That night they would sleep under the stars. Two teepee style tents had been graciously gifted by the Desert Sheikah; they were small, only housing three people each, but were light enough to be hauled on the horses, and easy enough to assemble and bring down. They were camped on a rocky bluff overlooking the vast sea of sand; in the distance stood the Sheikah outpost, nothing more than a small line along the horizon, and in the other direction stood the now abandoned village, which was yet to be visible to the travelers.
The Twili would see them to the village and then depart.
"There is another," here Z'a'atar made a small gesture with his hand as he explained, "realm, if you would. There are Twili there, a different tribe from ours, but still our kin. We can only hope they will accept us. If not, then, well, I am unsure what we will do."
Link stared at the fire that had been built out of the minimal firewood they could carry, "You will always have a place in Castle Town."
Z'a'atar shook his head, a sad expression on his face, "You know we would never truly be welcome in your city. We are too foreign; the best we could hope for was to establish a niche shop, and even then we would not be fully accepted. No, Castle Town is a lovely city, but it is not for us."
They stayed silent, everyone present knew that Z'a'atar spoke the truth.
"Anyway," he continued, "We can contact our relatives and perhaps persuade them to take up the sword against Ganondorf. Who knows what they will decide? They have been secluded for ages and may not know, or even understand, Hyrule's politics."
"So, how do you go about contacting this tribe?"
Z'dlam answered Sheik's question, the fire casting shadows against is grey skin, "There is a rumor of a mirror into their world, a bit like an entrance into the realm. The mirror is hidden deep within an ancient desert structure, built by your people many ages ago, somewhere in this desert. We will find it and, hopefully, activate the mirror into their world."
"Do you know where this structure is? Or maybe what it is?"
Z'dlam's voice was soft, "We have a general idea from stories passed down through our generations, but nothing specific. It acted as a prison at one point, but has altered uses since then."
Wren ran her right hand through her windblown and knotted hair, "We can help you know. Go with you and try to find this place."
Z'a'atar held up his hand, "No. You three must get back to your home. Your hand needs proper medication, not just healing potion and Twili salves, and all six of us will exhaust our supplies. We will find the mirror and go to our people. We know the direction and how far into the desert, roughly, this building is. We just don't know if it has been lost to the desert sand."
Wren sighed, "I know you're right, I just really don't want to admit it. Let me do a blessing at least."
Z'a'atar smiled while Z're barely managed to keep her excitement in check, "Thank you Wren. I believe we would all be honored."
"Then please kneel before me." Once all three of them were before her she began, the blessing came almost instinctually, "I, Goddess Hylia's Holy Vessel, bless the three Twili before me. May Z'a'atar be able to lead Z'dlam and Z're to the mirror and their distant kin. May their travels be swift and safe and may their kin accept them. Let all danger stay in the shadows and provide them strength in the event of attack. Let their hardships end once they find safety. Please rise."
They stood, the golden glow around them fading, and Z're was the first to move. She embraced Wren in one of the tightest, friendliest, longest hugs Wren had ever experienced. When she let go, a mixture of sadness and relief played across her features.
"I am going to miss you Wren. You're people have been so kind and accommodating to us. I hope we will see each other again."
Wren smiled, "I am no good at goodbyes and will probably be a wreck when we depart tomorrow. But understand that without you, we would have never been able to even access the temple. You have sacrificed so much to ensure Hyrule stays safe, even when you lost everything." She faced the others, "You have given almost everything to help a kingdom that you lost contact with. And for that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart."
The desert sands gradually changed to grass and the breeze became far less arid. The Twili were long gone, the goodbyes said early in the morning after a restful night at the abandoned village, a trying time for all six of the travelers. The Twili had departed to the east, in search of a place that might be lost to time, while the Royals continued their journey towards Castle Town.
They arrived at the city's walls late into the night. The moon was high and they wanted nothing more than to rest; unfortunately, but understandably, Zelda wanted to be totally filled in on their journey. She fussed over Wren's hand, asked all sorts of questions about how she summoned Din's Fire as well as how Wren managed in the temple, examined the Triforce on Sheik's hand, and managed to find a spare breath to ask how they would handle the influx of refugees Rusl brought into the city.
All this chatter was nothing more than fluff in Wren's ears; she wanted nothing more than to sneak away and collapse into bed. She was saddle swore, her hand hurt, and she stank of dust and horse. Rest now, bath later, and talk later still, maybe over a nice breakfast. After all, they had survived on road rations for the last few days, the village had some food left over that they could pillage, but it was not enough to stave off her constant hunger due to her body's attempt at healing her hand. She felt they deserved a good rest and a good meal.
She glanced at Sheik, "Would it be in bad form for me to sneak off?"
"No. Go rest, Zelda will understand. She is just eager to have us home and in one piece. Naturally she wants to know of everything going on her in kingdom."
"What about you?"
Sheik very subtly shook his head, "I will be fine. I can rest later after we talk."
"Don't wake me up then. I will be in your room tonight. Not really feeling the whole sleepwalking thing after I haven't done it for so long."
It was true. The last time Wren's sleep was interrupted was when Ganondorf's mage took over her body. Granted, she hadn't had a deep sleep since that night since they were on the road and sleeping on thin mats.
"You have my word."
Wren barely managed to hide a yawn as she snuck away to Sheik's bedroom. She was at the door when a familiar voice interrupted her sleepy reverie.
"I hear you battled Ganondorf's mage."
It was Fyn, his white swirling eyes seeming to glow in the candlelit hallway.
Wren was slightly taken aback and it took her a moment to respond, "I, uh, yes. No. I mean no. I didn't fight him personally. Z'dlam and Sheik faced him. I just saw him."
Fyn smiled, "I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you. I was just curious. I have heard rumors about his powers and was just wondering what we were really up against."
"Well," Wren sat on the padded bench near Sheik's door and motioned for Fyn to sit, "He is strong. He arrived in a dark cloud and produced enough lightening to make glass out of the desert sand. He was able to knock Z'dlam back without even touching him, and he could stop me from making a blessing. It was as though I was choking on the words.
"He's old too, at least as old as The War of Time. Alessio told me that he was being kept alive, kept youthful, by him. I didn't know mage's could do that, especially for so long. I knew magic prolonged your life, but I didn't know you could use it to prolong others'."
Fyn considered her, his long ear almost grazing the wall behind them and his eyes staring deep into hers.
"Please don't read my mind. If you want in there, all you have to do is ask, I will make a connection. I am just too tired to have my mind read tonight."
"I am not reading your mind. I am just thinking. This mage is powerful, and it is strange that he has not made an appearance up until now, especially if he was present during the War of Time. There would be history books about him, a mention, a footnote at the very least. The sort of magic you describe takes years of training. Training we would know about. Did you get a good look at his face?"
Wren shook her head, "Not really, he attacked at night. His ears were stretched like yours and his eyes were white. They weren't all swirly like yours though, they were more stagnant. Dark hair and dark clothing. His skin wasn't dark like that of Link's copy, more of a traditional Hylian tone. He also carried a broadsword, a monster of a thing that would take both hands to wield."
Fyn's brows met above his nose, "He carried a weapon?"
"Yes. Is that strange?"
"Most mages chose not to arm themselves with swords. They prefer to fight using only their magic. I have been trained in swordplay, but I would much rather use my spells and curses. Hand to hand combat, at least with weapons, is rare amongst mages. It is almost an unspoken rule, something seen as cheap and classless when we have mastered magic."
Wren snorted, "I don't think this mage is really going to give a damn about the unwritten rules of mage duels."
"No, probably not. I just do not like the idea of him being armed while I am fairly unskilled in swordsmanship."
The gears were slowly turning in Wren's head. It took her longer than she would have liked for them to click into place, "You think you will have to face him."
"Yes. If not me, who else?"
"I—"
"No. You will be skilled in magic, but not a master of it. Besides, you will be occupied with other factors on the battlefield. I will handle the mage."
"We have time, you can polish up your sword skills. Maybe learn some new spells or tricks."
Fyn smiled, "Time is on our side for now. But who knows how long we have before that runs out? I will work on my sword skills as well as new spells, but I may not have time to master anything."
An uneasy silence fell between them as they dwelled on Fyn's words. Wren's brain was foggy, she knew time would eventually run out, but she just didn't care at the moment. She didn't know if she could beat Ganondorf or if Hyrule would be strong enough to beat his army, and she just wanted to go to bed; let the training and talk happen another day.
Fyn rose, "You are exhausted, and I have kept you up. Please forgive me, I just needed to know what we were up against. Go rest. We can talk more later."
"'Later' sounds far better than now. Night Fyn, try not to worry too much about this mage. I have full confidence in you, and can bet that I will give everyone a blessing before we enter battle."
She shuffled into Sheik's chambers, barely managing to shuck off her dirty clothes and replace them with one of Sheik's larger tunic tops, before collapsing into the bed. Fyn stood in the hallway, numerous thoughts going through his head.
He was joined by Sheik a few minutes later. They exchanged knowing, almost sad, glances, but no words. Sheik entered his chambers and, with a sigh, Fyn turned towards his tower.
Wren did not dream of darkness and despair that night; rather, she was visited by Din.
The redheaded woman stood before her as she knelt on one knee, "Rise Wren, my mother's Holy Vessel." They were on a white plain, a place completely devoid of life but not unpleasant. It was otherworldly and filled only with whiteness and holy power.
Din continued, "I understand you managed to cast my fire, however, it ruined your hand. Weren't you ever told not to play with fire?"
The joke forced a smile out of her, "Probably. I don't really know why I did it. I didn't really think I could. It just happened."
"My mother's magic runs deep in your blood. You are strong, but also impulsive. You act on instinct, sometimes without thinking. This is both a good" here she held out her left hand as though she were a scale, "and a bad" and her right hand imitated the action, "thing."
Wren stayed silent and Din continued on, "You must learn how to control your impulses. This fire is not something to be trifled with. It is not like my sister's Love, which will heal quickly when mismanaged because it is meant to protect; my Fire is meant as a weapon. Weapons are designed to do damage to an opponent. It is not a more powerful magic that that of my sisters, but it is of a different nature.
"Do not toy with this flame. Do not use it unless necessary. But trust it. Understand it. Master it. You must harness this power and learn how to make it work for you. Otherwise, the flame will take over and will consume you. You saw what did when you acted with rage and impulse. Now imagine what it could do when you harnessed it."
It was almost as though a bell had chimed in her head; Alessio was Wren's first kill. He was dead by her hand and no one else's. He was dead because she acted without thinking, without mercy. Guilt suddenly overwhelmed her and she cast her gaze downward.
"I told him I would give him to his people. I—I thought they would just disgrace him."
Din gave Wren a sad smile, "Do not feel guilty for ending Alessio's life. He was traitor and a dark mage. For him to have harnessed power to keep him alive for so many years would have taken a strong toll on his soul. He was corrupt before he ever decided to dabble in dark magic, a magic that only tainted his heart more.
"The magic you possess is pure and powerful. Something that must be used wisely and not just because you have it. Do you understand my words?"
Wren nodded, and Din snapped her fingers. The same pillar of flame as before overtook her and she was gone. The dream faded as quick as it came, and for the first time in several days, Wren woke refreshed.
