Note to self: Never have so many important events occuring simultaneously again. It's a pain to keep track of.

Chapter 37: The Afternoon of the Day Everything Changed

They'd walked right into the trap. It had been so easy, Tharkus mused. The group stumbled into the clearing, weapons drawn, their attention on the tree branches above them. Exactly why that was, he wasn't sure, but it made things all the easier.

He gave the signal, and the ninja leaped from their hiding places, some as simple as behind trees or bushes, others appearing from beneath the earth itself, buried by their comrades beneath blankets and dirt and leaves. And the net worked beautifully, latching onto the Twili and binding itself with the force of the magic that empowered it. And the Twili screamed that she was blind. An unexpected side-effect, but worth noting.

Zivlyn just had to announce herself. She'd always had a flair for the dramatic. Then Link moved and started killing the ninja, one by one. He'd killed four of them in just as many seconds. Not bad at all. The princess put an arrow in the throat of another, and an unseen ally of theirs had killed another with an arrow to the base of one's neck.

Rather than waste more time and lives, Tharkus released a small spell from his fingertips to the earth just in front of Link. The concussive force threw sand into the air, and Link as well, to land hard on his back a few feet back.

Then Tharkus had stepped in to retrieve the Twili. As he did so, however, Link found his feet.

"Get away from her," he said, then leaped at the wizard, "Get away!"

The sword cleaved into Tharkus' right shoulder, and through his torso, nearly to his hip. He grunted at the stinging sensation the sword's magic left on his body. Then he saw the shock on Link's face at the realization that Tharkus had no blood, bones, or vital innards. The "injury" closed up nearly as fast as it had opened.

Tharkus smiled at Link, then struck him on the chest with his free hand. The boy kept his grip on the sword, wrenching it from Tharkus' body as he flew backward to land in the river and be swept downstream.

He turned to the princess and the elf, too late seeing the globe of light between the elf's hands. "Pyre Bolt!" Sheila completed her spell and a red bolt of lightning struck from on hand to strike Tharkus squarely in the chest.

Or at least it would have, had his reflexes in raising his barrier been any slower. The bolt of lightning glanced off the invisible barrier about him to strike a tree at the edge of the clearing, snapping the truck in two and sending it falling away from the clearing.

Tharkus turned his free hand to have his palm up, fingers half-curled, then flicked his wrist upward. The magical energies he controlled responded, without any incantation, and a small explosion similar to the one that tossed Link into the air now tossed Sheila back into the river. She was swept swiftly downstream by the rushing water.

The princess loosed an arrow that struck him in the left side of the chest. He felt little more than the thud as it impacted his flesh. In what seemed a fit of desperation, she drew her sword and charged him. He lifted his free hand to defend himself, and the blade struck his hand, directly between his middle and ring fingers, cutting nearly to the center of his wrist. The cut closed quickly, his flesh holding the blade in place and preventing her from drawing it back out.

Nearly face to face, she whispered to him. "What manner of unholy demon are you?"

"Now, now, that would be telling," Tharkus said, "You warrant no villain's exposition from me. You want to know what I am, figure it out yourself."

He wrenched his arm to the side, twisting his wrist to pull the sword pommel from her hands, then twisted back and struck her on the side of the head with the hilt. Zelda staggered sideways, but managed to keep her feet. She noted that the ninja and the sadistic woman were keeping their distance from the wizard.

He flicked his wrist toward the ground, and the sword dislodged from his hand and stabbed its point into the ground. Zelda turned back toward him, pulling her bow from her shoulders and drawing an Arrow of Light from her quiver as she did so. As she faced him, she nocked the arrow and drew it back, gold light flaring along the length of the shaft as she did so.

"Let's see how you like this one," she said, and loosed the arrow.

It struck him in the right shoulder. With a shout of pain, he dropped Midna from his left hand as his right shoulder exploded. Charred chunks pattered the ground as a six inch diameter hole appeared between his arm and neck, his arm only remaining attacked by a thin strip of flesh. He fell to his knee, gripping his right arm with his left hand.

"Grab her!" Tharkus shouted to the ninja, "Bring her with us! Alive!"

The ninja moved forward. Something else moved faster. It zipped from the upper branches of the trees behind them, shrouded in an orange cloak that had helped blend it in with the autumn leaves. Two foot-long blades of steel flashed in the sunlight, and two ninja it zipped between clutched the arms it had passed by, blood pouring from the slit arteries in their biceps.

It ran by Tharkus, striking him quickly and deliberately with both blades, the first finishing the job of severing his right arm, the second across his throat, nearly decapitating him in the process.

Then it turned to Zelda, the blades tucked away under the cloak, and tackled her in the stomach, lifting her up on one shoulder with ease and darting from the clearing into the forest, moving with incredible swiftness over the uneven and unknown terrain, and at one point leaping across a six foot gorge without missing a step.

Tharkus watched them go, then rose to his feet. His neck sealed up quickly, and his shoulder was beginning to reform. He stooped to pick up his severed arm and held it against his shoulder as the flesh knitted itself back together. Then he pulled the remaining arrow from his chest and tossed it aside.

His robe and shirt were ruined, from when Link cleaved the sword into him. He saw Zivlyn pulling the princess' sword from the ground. "I like this one," she muttered, running her fingers along the blade.

Then he glanced down to see that the Twili remained, and smiled. A near disaster averted by their ally evidently not knowing what she was. "Looks like you're all we have left, little one," he said and reached down to pick her up by the net.

The Twili couldn't see, but she caught onto the movement and snapped her teeth down on his fingers. He barely felt it, and she almost immediately pulled back and spat out the chunk she'd bitten off. "I'm afraid that won't help you," he said.

"Why the hell do you taste like corn?!" she demanded.

"Do I?" he asked, "I didn't know. Let's go," he added to his allies, "We have what we were after. Time for phase two."

"That I will tell you," Tharkus said, "Link is bound to come rescue you. And when he does, he'll be at the mercy of Zivlyn over there. Even I think she's a psychotic, vile creature. But she's the best at what she does. And if by some miracle he gets by her, he'll have to deal with me. You will be able to save him by simply giving up the piece of the Twilight Mirror you possess. In fact, I'll let you go right now if you just hand it over, and the entire thing will be averted."

She couldn't see him right then, but the glare in her visible eye right then looked like it could boil water, so to speak. "Link is going to kill every last one of you."

"I'd have to be able to die before someone can kill me," Tharkus said, "But I look forward to seeing him try."

The sun had sunk about halfway down the sky before the molten streets of the eastern Whitos-Neiki streets were safe to walk on. The autumn chill helped the cooling, and the warmth could still be felt through your boots, but just as Arthur expected, squads of men began moving from the west city into the east, and combed what remained of the buildings, street by street.

They were looking for survivors, and occasionally a distant scream would be heard, to suddenly cut off.

Arthur had seen the king off, and they'd managed to find ten men, and eight women, and twelve children, all of whom had had their lives and loved ones stripped from them in but a moment. One thing Arthur was glad of was that the way the spell had worked, there were no remains of the victims left, because he doubted his stomach could take it to see the results of death on such a large scale.

The city was simply empty. It was eerie, the way the wind whispered through the remains of the buildings. All the sounds of people going about there lives that he was used to were simply and completely gone.

Now, he crouched in a dark corner that was all that remained of one side of what used to be a tavern he had enjoyed visiting. From here, he could see the gate connecting the two halves of the city. He knew that woman had to come here herself eventually, and he would be ready when she did.

He'd waited until the squad that checked this street had cleared this area before taking up the position, and now he kept his ears tuned for the sound of footsteps of anyone deciding to give the area a second look.

His patience was rewarded as the object of his vengeance came into the eastern city at last, and she came alone. She walked down the street slowly, her gaze drifting over the remains of the buildings on either side of the street. She was the one who had done it. Maybe she was admiring her handiwork.

Arthur rose into a half-crouched position, careful not to make a sound and stay within the shadow of the wall. He had to wait until she was within reach, then strike quickly and soundly. He severely doubted his chances in direct combat with the woman. He settled on the fact that he would pay her back through the medium of premeditated murder.

As she drew closer, he could more clearly see the armor she wore. Her right arm, which was her sword arm, he noted was completely bare except for a leather wristband, but the shoulder was topped with that spiked shoulder-plate. The rest of her was heavily armored, particularly that left arm. Those thick heavy plates had to have the same function as a shield, he thought.

Her breastplate, he realized, was form-fitting. It had to have been specially made for her. Her neck and head were completely exposed above it, though, as the plates only covered up to her collarbones, and she wore no helmet.

That was it. Attack from the right side, go for the neck, and take her head off quickly, or at least slash open the artery in her throat. And the timing had to be perfect. If he struck too soon or late, she would be too far out of reach, and likely be able to fight back. Then he would be dead.

As she drew closer, he realized she was talking to herself. Had the city been and populated and noisy as it usually was, he wouldn't have been able to hear her. But now, in the stillness that had taken over, he could hear it quite well.

"…no one who could have stopped me," she said, then sighed, "Such a waste. Maybe this world isn't ready for beings of real power like myself or Khall. Even father had to use that Triforce to wield power like I have, whatever it is."

She glanced at the building Arthur was in. He ducked out of sight quickly. Apparently she didn't notice him. It was strange. Her tone of voice as she spoke was sad…

"I don't even see why these people have to be wiped out," she said, "They'd hardly be difficult to suppress, and then they could be integrated with ours."

Wait for it. Let her get a little bit closer.

"That was one thing father taught me quite well. People resent oppression, and while they will resent any conqueror, at least for a time, they practically flock to a strong leader who is fair to them. They eventually come around and want to be ruled by such a leader."

Come on, just a little closer…

"This wasteful destruction," she said, stopping and turning her back to Arthur, "Maybe Mur'neth was right. Maybe Khall is up to something he's not telling us. Telling me to do this… It's not like him. And Tharkus is probably at the center of it."

Just a few more steps…

She turned and started walking again. "I can't turn back now, though. I can, however, change the plan. I'll capture Nigel my way. With minimum casualties on both sides. Then I'll find out what Khall is up to. Depending on how that goes…"

She paused and glanced at her hand. "Well, maybe I can get him to see reason."

Now!

Arthur leaped, drawing his sword quickly, and swung as hard as he could at her head. His blade stopped with a clash of steel on steel. It took him a second to grasp the situation. She had spun about and stopped his swing with that armored left arm of hers. How could she move so fast, and wearing all that heavy armor? Arthur had worn armor once. It had felt like he had two great sacks of stones hanging over his shoulders when he tried to move. It didn't even seem to slow this woman down.

With her armored fist up the air, his blade stopped against her wrist, about four inches from her face, she was glaring right at him through bangs of red hair that her spin had caused to drift down in front of her face.

"What do we have here?" she asked, her previous soft tone gone, replaced with a voice of steel, "Some fool trying to play hero?"

She shoved his sword away with a jerk of her arm, and Arthur was forced back several steps. The sword was heavy, too, he realized. He really wasn't in any kind of shape for this.

The woman drew her sword, the pulsating light on its blade drawing his eyes to it immediately, almost mesmerizing the way it danced across the blade and dripped onto the stone beneath their feet to evaporate immediately. Then she set her feet wide, turning so that her left side was more toward him, that armored arm half-bent before her like a shield, her sword held behind her.

"Well, come on, hero," she said, "Don't turn coward on me now."

Gripping his sword with both hands, Arthur ran for her, raising the blade above his head and swinging downward with all his strength. Her arm came up, caught the blade above her own head, then shoved it to the side, sending him stumbling past her. Adding insult to the move, she lifted up one foot and kicked him across the posterior, which turned his stumble into a stagger, and he fell on his face.

"Get up, hero," she said.

"Aren't you going to call for help?" he growled as he pushed himself up.

"For an amateur like you?" she asked, "You insult me."

Arthur spun as he rose, swinging quickly, hoping to catch her off guard. This time her sword came to block the stroke, the impact causing droplets of light to rain off the blade, then her left fist filled his vision, and sudden pain across his face made him retreat quickly. He put one hand to his face to find blood running from his right cheek. The cut wasn't deep.

He saw what had caused it. On the gauntlet over her left hand, between each of her knuckles, protruded a half-inch long blade. Three blades, each of the tips red with blood.

"We both know how this is going to go," she said, "Ready to quit, hero?"

Arthur looked at her, gripped his sword in both hands, and smiled. "Are you kidding? You haven't gotten my left cheek yet!"

She smiled, and laughed. "Okay, you've got some spine. But there's a difference between courage and foolishness, kid."

"If you want you're left cheek cut up so bad," came a voice from the side, "Then why not allow me?"

A man stepped out of a doorway of a relatively unscathed building across the street from where Arthur had been hiding. A black bladed sword clutched in his right hand, his silver hair hanging loosely around his shoulders.

"It can't be…" Arthur whispered, recognizing the face of the man before him, "You're…

"Zero!" the woman said, turning her attention from Arthur fully to the newcomer, "How the hell did you get out of that cell?"

"I was never held there to begin with," Zero said, "And the time has finally come to make my move."

"When Khall hears about this-" the woman started.

"He will do nothing," Zero said, "He can do nothing. You know that power he has to instantly end my life? It doesn't exist. Get it? I was faking it! He had no control over me, ever!"

He waved his free hand at her. "You see, while you 'Lords of Chaos,' as you call yourselves, were off doing your own thing, I have my own goals for this world. Directly from the goddess of destruction herself."

"From Shaklator?"

"That's right," Zero said, "You see, I am, in a way, her son, and in another, I'm not. She brought my mind and soul into existence, but my body was created by another. And while I'm so glad, Kilishandra, that you and Khall are convinced you're going to rule the world, I'm afraid I have other plans."

"And what would those be?" Arthur demanded, raising his sword.

Ah, how easy a common enemy unites a man with the person he was just trying to kill, Kilishandra thought.

Zero smiled, and suddenly slammed his free hand into the wall just behind him. Cracks appeared in the stone, spread quickly, then the wall fell over behind him, crumbling to pieces.

"See that?" Zero asked, "That's just one of the ways I'm superior to the entire pathetic human race."

"My father has that kind of strength," Kilishandra said, "He's quite human."

"Is he?" Zero asked, "I was under the impression most of his powers came quite unnaturally. Eternal youth, rapid healing, immense strength. He might have been human once, but I assure you, he is no longer."

"Daem!" Kilishandra suddenly shouted as she lashed out her left hand. A streak of lightning lanced from her fingertips to Zero's chest, throwing him backward, crashing through the back wall of the building he had emerged from. The wall collapsed, burying him beneath it.

Kilishandra felt a stab of pain in her hand, the blue fingernail on her index finger darkening a shade. No, she thought, taking a deep breath, Can't let my loyalties slip like that. He insulted Ganon, and for a moment I was my old self again.

She calmed herself and the pain vanished, the nail turning lighter blue again.

"But now he's dead," she said out loud.

The bricks stirred, then rolled down the pile and Zero rose from the wreckage. "Not bad," he said, "Caught me napping."

"That's not possible," she said.

"That's the difference between Ganon and myself," Zero said stepping out of the rubble and walking toward her, "I know I'm not human. I'm not trying to be. I am the first of the new dominant species of this world."

"We have a deal with Shaklator!" Kilishandra said, "We release her and allow her revenge on the civilization that imprisoned her, and we are allowed to rebuild on the remains. Are you saying she's been playing us for fools this entire time?"

Zero smiled. "Not all of you."

"Who else knows?!" Kilishandra demanded.

"Everyone knows exactly what they need to, and that includes you," Zero said, "You're not going to get more than that out of me. I would suggest you go question your 'friends' for more information, if you're so desperate to know everything."

I think this confirms it, Kilishandra thought, Mur'neth was right. Something is going on that we don't know about. Khall is going to have a lot of answering to do when I see him again. But first…

"I guess that leaves only one option," Kilishandra said, "I'm going to have to beat answers out of you."

"Now that's what I wanted to hear," Zero said with a smile, "Finally, a test of strength and skill against the daughter of the most feared man alive. I hope daddy taught you well."

"I suggest you run," Kilishandra said to Arthur, "You lucked out right now, but if you stick around, you'll get killed in the crossfire. If this guy is even worth a half-effort from me, there isn't going to be much left of this city when we're done."

Arthur was tempted to tell her right where she could stick her suggestion, then thought better of it. "We'll meet again," he said, "And then I will kill you."

He turned and ran for the east gate. If he hurried, he might catch up to the king's party in a day or two. Kilishandra watched him go out of the corner of her eye. He had potential, but the question was if he could realize it in time. He'd probably die before they met again.

Arthur made it out the gate, but had scarcely gone more than twenty feet along the road before another man stood before him. He lifted his sword, ready to defend himself, but the man lifted a pendant he wore from inside his blue cloak and spoke directly into the green stone attached to the silver chain. "This is Judge Anthony. Got one more survivor."

"Thank the gods, a judge!" Arthur said, "Listen, something is happening right now…"

An explosion from the city cut him off.

"Whatever it is, it will have to wait," the judge said, "I'm the only one here, and need to get going. You came out just in time."

A voice spoke from the stone in the judge's pendant. "Anthony, we're closing up shop there. Place the survivor in protective custody and escort him to Darimar immediately. If he's seen the enemy leaders, we'll get some men to make artist's rendering and send them to the other kingdoms."

"Did you see their leaders?" the judge asked Arthur.

"Well, one of them," Arthur said, "A woman…"

"Stop there," the judge said, then spoke into the pendant, "Get those artists ready. I'll let him use my pendant, and we can go straight through to them."

"There was another man who showed up," Arthur said, "He wasn't with them, but he's definitely not on our side either."

"We'll get a description, but I hardly think one man can make that much of a difference," the judge said.

"We'll have the artists in about an hour," the voice from the pendant said, "In the meantime, you'd best get moving."

"Wait," Arthur said, "The king and some other survivors came this way earlier. Did you see them?"

"Maylow no longer has a kingdom, therefore he is no longer a king," the judge said, "But we did find them, and they are being escorted to Darimar. Judge Ralthas wants to question them personally."

He tucked the pendant into his shirt. "Now come on. We need to go."

Another explosion sounded inside the city.

Arthur sheathed his sword and fell into step with the fast walking judge. "What is that pendant, by the way?" Arthur asked, "I've never seen something like that before."

"Instant communication across great distances," the judge said, "Every judge has one, but they're for emergency use only. Otherwise everyone would want one, and they're just too expensive and difficult to mass produce."

Aw, just a little too late, it seems, said the voice in Link's head.

Link pushed himself up from the floor of the clearing, growling under his breath. "I was wondering when you'd turn up again."

I can't exactly hold your hand all the time, Link, said the voice, Now tell me. What do you plan to do about your friends?

"I'm going to find them."

Even if it meant walking directly into a trap?

"I know it will be a trap. I'll turn it into my trap."

Sheila lay one hand on Link's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, then spoke to the voice again, "Where did they take them?"

Well, that's the catch, the voice said, The Princess Zelda was not abducted by your enemy. She is in no immediate danger. Midna, on the other hand, is being taken to the very location you were seeking: The temple about a mile south of the river. Your enemy knows your movements quite well, Link.

"We need to go," Link said to Sheila, "They'll take her to the temple."

Sheila nodded. "All right. Lead the way."

She knew he was speaking to someone she couldn't see. He had yet to tell her anything about this. After what she had seen since beginning this journey, however, she would accept almost anything at this point.

Link was also very good at taking charge in a situation like this. While he deferred to her judgment on the roads of the land and when speaking to important people, like King Maylow and even Riven and Geoff back in Tyr, she was coming to see him for what he was. Though he did not enjoy the responsibilities of leadership, in times like this when decisions and strong leadership were required, it was like he had been born for the task.

They crossed the river, Link assisting her through the water once more, then moved to another animal track leading roughly south. She now greatly regretted never taking the time to learn to swim. It would be a priority once this was over, that was certain.

"One other thing," Link growled at the voice in his head, "What was that thing that was at the battle? You know what I mean."

That, the voice said, was the remains of a broken man who has lost all sense of purpose in this world, save one. He has survived since the time of the ancient civilization solely to fulfill that purpose.

"And that is?"

Revenge. Revenge on every living thing in this world.

As the voice spoke those words, her tone darkened, becoming like a hard stone, hatred practically oozing from the words.

Link filed that observation away for now. Something told him that this goddess who had visited him in his dreams and now spoke directly to him had more of an agenda than she was letting on.

In his office in the castle of Darimar, Judge Ralthas sat at his desk, adding his signature to forms requisitioning stored supplies of food and medicine, to be ready for when the survivors from other kingdoms began arriving. The forms were already signed by King Rigdar, but the judge's signature would remove any and all room for argument.

A knock at his door made him look up. "Come in," he said.

"Judge Ralthas?" the young man said as he stepped into the room.

It was Prince Richard, Rigdar's son. "Yes, prince?" Ralthas asked, turning his attention back to the forms on his desk, "What do you need?"

"I know you've been keeping tabs on the High Elder and her companions since they arrived in Tyr," the prince said, "I want to talk to you about that."

"That's privileged information," Ralthas said without looking up, "You know it only because you either stole into my office and looked at my notes, which I'm sure you did, or if you spoke directly to the High Elder, which I'm also sure you did."

"Sheila is not a traitor," the prince said, "I don't care what you think. She has done nothing wrong."

"I'm not positive she has," Ralthas said, "That's why she and her friends have not been arrested yet."

"Yet you have judges stalking them," Richard said, "Yes, she told me what they are doing. I assure you, it's hardly a threat to the kingdoms."

"That is for me to decide, prince, not you," Ralthas said, "I don't hold this office for nothing. If anything, you should be more worried about whether or not I decide to arrest you for interfering."

The prince started to retort, but he was interrupted as another man burst into the office suddenly. "Judge Ralthas! The artists taking the Whitos-Neiki survivor's descriptions through the sound stone have finished, and the judge overseeing it wanted you to see this as soon as possible!"

He had a rolled up parchment in his hand. Ralthas took it and unrolled it. Richard heard the judge his with sudden intake of breath. "This man," Ralthas said, "He was the one the survivor saw in Whitos-Neiki? No doubts?"

"Well, he'd have to confirm the picture himself, judge," the man said, "But this was the result from his description."

Ralthas cursed under his breath, rolling up the parchment. "Have copies made and circulated among the judges. Also, post a notice that I need six men to accompany me, and send word for my horse to be readied. I'm leaving tonight."

"Yes, judge!" the man said, taking the parchment back and saluting before dashing out the door.

"What was that?" Richard asked.

Ralthas stood up, picking up his sword from where it leaned against the desk and buckled the belt around his waist. He looked at Richard as he spoke. "I'm going to arrest the High Elder and her companions. Now get out, prince," he said, pulling the sound stone he wore around his neck from his shirt, "I have a few things to take care of before I leave."

As Richard turned to leave, biting back his temper and his tongue, Ralthas added, "If you want to help them now, I suggest you get ready to defend them when their trial begins."

"Put me down!" Zelda commanded the figure who had carried her some distance from the battle site.

She was dumped rather unceremoniously onto the grass.

"All right," Zelda said, getting to her feet and taking a few steps back from her rescuer, "Who are you?"

"Not someone you know," came a woman's voice from the hood of the cloak. She turned her attention to the way they had come, apparently checking for pursuers.

"That's not what I asked," Zelda said, "Maybe I should ask, why did you help me?"

"That's my job."

"Job?"

"Job: noun. An activity such as a trade or profession that somebody does regularly. The role that somebody or something fulfills. A duty that…"

"All right, all right," Zelda said, cutting the woman off, "That's enough."

"I'm what you would call a forest ranger," the woman said, "My job is to protect this forest from travelers that pass through it, and protect them from it. It's actually somewhat rare that I protect them from each other."

"I need to find the others I was with," Zelda said.

"Don't worry," the ranger said, "They won't get far before I can track them down. I can move much faster than most through the forest."

"Can we go now?"

"Yes, but we'll need to be careful so we don't stumble upon the others who were after you."

"Before we go," Zelda said, "Can you tell me your name a least? Mine is Zelda."

The woman turned back to look at her. She looked up enough that for the first time Zelda saw the face under the orange hood. The coal black skin and snow white hair that Zelda had come to recognize in the ninja during their brief encounters looked out at her. "My name is Silviana."