Chapter 20

Dreams of War

The sun set completely and ebony blackness cloaked the watery tunnels of the Tower of Gods. Squinting at the map thrust beneath his square chin, the King of Red Lions silently studied the parchment for a few seconds before carefully turning to the clueless child next to him.

"We are here," he nodded to a giant, irregular open space. "The circles are the statues, meaning, the gold faces gushing water," Daphnes pointed to the humanoid masks. "You can use this open stretch of sea to navigate from one room to the other." He gestured to the different landing spaces, decorated by Doric pillars. "You visited this place, this one and now we are here," he repeated for Link's benefit and the boy nodded, clarity pervading his coal black irises. "Now we go to the next platform situated right over there." The King of Red Lions moved, prow shearing through the denim blue sea, they stopped at a huge landing of stone and Link's gaze immediately veered to the door, steel bars sealing the entrance. Gut churning, he sought guidance from the boat and traced its line of vision to two colorful, round indents in the ground. "There is a statue on one," Daphnes noted, "and the light changed color...they are switches."

"Very colorful," Link agreed and hopped of the boat, nearly missing the raised platform and plunging into the freezing sea. He scrutinized the statue in one indent and grinned when he saw another one. Dragging the stone sentinel on the adjacent indent, he jumped when the bars sealing the door shifted apart with an ear shattering noise.

The door opened to a wide podium and dropped to a giant, rectangular pit lined with boxes. Noting the platform on the other side, Link climbed down and arranged the erratic containers into a straight, evenly paced line. He climbed back up, at a loss for what to do and fisted the pirate's charm before seeing a lighted torch. A similar wire bracket remained dead on the opposite side. Dropping the cyan stone back into his pocket, he gingerly lifted a burning branch, the heat searing his face. Racing to the other side, the lighted the torch, grinning victoriously when a click resounded in the vast room along with a gushing torrent of water.

In minutes, the water drew level with the podium and the wooden boxes he arranged previously, stretched like a bopping pier to the opposite end. It led him to a chest.

The small chest awarded him with a key.

Confidence swelling in his chest, Link proudly returned to the King of Red Lions, showing off the silver key he attained without anyone's help. The boat praised him warmly and pointed to a series of tunnels on the map. Grabbing the oar, Link guided the lacquered watercraft through the catacombs filled with inky black sea and raised his lantern, observing smooth earthen walls interspersed by craggy patches. Nudging the boat closer, he brazenly lit a bomb in his hand and tossed the flashing explosion at the sealed tunnels.

The bomb exploded. Wild waves rocked the boat to the other side of the tunnel walls and both human and boat heard the unmistakable crunch of splintering wood. Immediately, Link crouched, sweeping his hands over the deck, searching for a breach. Sturgeon said that breaches were a small watercraft's greatest enemy. Finding none, he looked up and grinned triumphantly. Standing, he brushed rock dust off his cap and leaned, inspecting the new hole.

"That was dangerous," Daphnes chided, eyeing the child disapprovingly. "You cannot light a bomb in your hand and throw it; you could have blasted your arm off."

Smile dropping, Link protested, "But I didn't." He pointed to his intact arm. "And we have a new tunnel to explore."

"Yes," the boat acknowledged, "but it was dangerous, no doubt about that. The next time you want to crack open a tunnel, use the cannon, it's much safer. Not to mention you should keep well out of the blast radius, if I have a hole in my deck-"

"Which you don't," the child interrupted.

"...We will both drown." The King of Red Lions sighed. "I understand you are a better sailor, but it does not hurt to be extra careful."

Link, lips pressed into a thin, displeased line, reluctantly turned the boat into the newly opened tunnel. A ridge of rock barred entrance and relinquishing the oar, Link stripped, leaving only his tights on. He dived inside the tunnel and swam to a landing with a locked door.

Roughly drying himself, he jammed his cap back on and marveled at the staircase weaving out of thin air. Fumbling with the Pirate's charm, he spoke into the lit stone. "It's a staircase of rainbow lights," he breathlessly reported. "I wish you were here to see it Boaty." The King of Red Lions chuckled softly and praised him on a job well done. "Ahahaha," Link modestly laughed, scratching the back of his head embarrassedly, "but I only defeated four chuchu, that's easy, anyone could do it." At the top of the shimmering staircase of candy cotton pink and white, a pillar glowed. "There is another statue I must carry over," he informed, "it goes in the colorful tile place like before."

Letting the stone drop, Link hesitantly put his foot on the first stair of light, expecting it not to hold his weight, to his delight, the ethereal structure held. Excitement mounting, he raced up and down the staircase for a while, wondering what Midna would have said at such a breath taking structure. Once the initial enthusiasm dampened, he sobered and carried the pillar all the way down, dazzled when the stairs changed color and faded out of existence. Planting the statue in its place, he stood back to observe his handiwork and a quietude settled on his ears.

The gold plated statue faces stopped vomiting water.

Curious, he hopped back on the boat and rowed it closer; lantern light illuminated a lowering water level. The sea descended below the statue's open mouth and after a moment's contemplation, he grabbed his backpack and entered the tunnel mouth.

Water slicked stone proved a treacherous surface to traverse on and bracing himself against the damp and slimy wall, Link inched forward. The mossy tunnel ended with a flight of stairs and a metallic door.

The sheet of metal swung inward at his touch and he emerged into a humid, palatial hall. Platforms, edges lined in gold and silver, bit into the cement wall and went up and up. Blinking at the dizzying height, Link squared his shoulders and studied the room, eyes stopping at the beamos statues. He remembered the Temple of Time.

The Temple of Time.

Before he blacked out, he recalled a darkened room. And Midna goading him about something...she talked about the Darknut and how fearsome it was. Link remembered a circular chamber swathed in shadows and an armored thing with a spade-flat blade. He remembered the edge biting into his neck, into his nape. Crushing bone, pain.

Pain.

Excruciating pain before he blacked out and woke in the glorious realm of the Great Seas.

In Ordona Village, he relied on the villagers, but here, he was an adult. Grandma and Aryll depended on him.

Taking a deep breath, he dove for a statue near the corner. Ferrying statues to respective places in order to prove himself?

I got this.


Ascending the platforms gave him a nauseous headache. Still, Link persisted. He found a coil of rope with a metallic claw attached at the end and he examined the...Device? (weapon?). The hook dug into stone crevices and he used it to steady himself. Each time he hopped across a chasm, his heart leapt to his mouth.

Blood roaring in his ears, he barely registered the intricate runes running along the platform's edges and instead, concentrated on hauling himself upward. The gold gilded stages eventually boosted him to an upper platform and wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow, Link flopped to the stage and tugged a bottle of water out of his sack. Drinking several gulps, he winced at the burn streaking his upper back, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and checked the area.

A yellow stone door, its center motif a pleasant shade of mauve, stood aside and when no enemies popped from the corners, Link dashed through the door and stumbled into the next room.

Clutching his throbbing toe, why did this Tower of Gods have to be so fancy with their pillar bases covered in gold? Link scrutinized the circular chamber. Stairs, leafed in bronze, led to an elevated stage and he grinned warily, it missed a statue. Starting from the…he checked his compass, south; he stalked clockwise and knocked the doors, sometimes poking his head in the ornamental vases wreathing each doorway. The glazed blue and white pottery often offered him arrows. Frowning, Link tossed the arrows in his bag, he did not have a bow...yet.

Nearing the eastern door, the boy crossed his fingers; hopefully he did not walk into a dead end room. To his utter delight, the door ground open, leaving a fine layer of orange sandstone.

A staircase of light shimmered into view and he held his breath, admiring the ribbons of lilac and fuchsia lighting up the corridor. Head held high, Link ascended the stairs, testing each step before hopping on the next one. At the top, a thick platform of light awaited for him and feeling rather gratified, he gingerly stepped on the solid colors. Meters beneath him, a concrete walkway snaked to a lower door and his stomach dropped at the pockets of black hole darkness peppering the floor. If, for some bizarre reason the light platform disappeared, he would never make it home again.

Worse still, no companion will be able to save him. Boaty did not have a handy hand hair like Midna.

A squat little statue needed ferrying. Grabbing the charcoal stone idol, he held hit above his head and listened as the King of Red Lions dictated the next destination. Boaty sounded a bit impatient and Link's confidence deflated. Maybe the boat secretly missed the other Link? A bubble or resentment forced unhappy tears to surface at the corner of Link's eyes.

Brave Link, he recalled the Light Spirit in Faron Woods saying. And everyone in Ordona too, expected great things from the adult Link.

While he carried the statue, upper arm muscles burning, he envisioned the man, ice blue eyes and a body that withstood great injuries. Panting, Link placed the statue on the ground and stared at his tanned hands. He did not like this color, it reminded him too much of the perfect Link. Gritting teeth, he hefted the statue above his head and pounded down the corridor, searching for the subtle landmarks Daphnes so graciously referred to.

Link tried not to think about how light the statue will weigh in adult arms.

Sniffing, he tottered to the edge of the corridor and stopped short at a chasm separating him from a moving platform. The inky stretch of space prompted bile to rise in his mouth. More importantly, moving platforms? Cool! Momentarily forgetting about the other Link, the boy leaned into the drop and watched the platform whizz back and forth, its pitted surface reflecting lantern flame. When the slab of stone refused to come any closer, Link despaired.

Fisting the Pirate's charm, he complained, "Daphnes, there is a moving platform in front of me that's not stopping next to where I stand. And I've got a statue, it's heavy," his voice wavered, "what should I do?"

"Jump?" the boat rhetorically replied. "What else can you do my boy? The Tower of Gods may be lacking in monsters because it is a sacred place, but by no means will it be an easy gauntlet to pass." Staring at the glowing stone in disbelief, Link opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Jump? "I'm not crazy," the King of Red Lions answered the boy's unasked question. "Trust me, you will not fail. Place your belief in the Gods and complete the Tower. I have full faith in you."

Right, Link poisonously thought, you have full faith in that other Link; he probably wouldn't even ask you about these silly things.

Wrapping his arms around the statue, Link lifted it and waddled to the edge of long and perilous fall.

In fact, Link probably did everything by himself.

A capable hero, experienced in several types of combat. He could fight without weapons.

A tear stubbornly spilled over Link's lower eyelid.

What was he compared to him?

Screwing his eyes shut, he leapt when the platform stopped in midair. For a few seconds he hung, between the delicate balance of life and death. Breath stuck in his chest, his feet collided forcefully with the stage, knocking the air out of him.

Gulping, he shivered and moved to the middle, too rattled to enjoy the ride. He primly hopped off the next landing and re-entered the central, circular room. As his boot crossed the threshold, the statue suddenly pulsed with purple lines (maybe purple was evil after all) and wriggled out of his arms. It hopped up the steps, base thudding loudly.

Alarmed, Link quickly snatched the stone hanging around his neck and his voice pitched. "Boaty, the statue is moving on its own, should I smash it?" As he asked, Link thought of how to break the stone idol without the use of a hammer or his silver ball and chain.

"Are you in trouble?" the King of Red Lion's asked, worry bleeding into his voice.

"No...um, never mind, it planted itself in a hole and I think something is happening," Link explained.

Recovering from his initial shock, he curiously followed the path taken by the statue.

"There's a stone tablet coming out of the ground!" the boy yelled over the din of granite slabs scraping against each other. "There's something written on here...I can read it," Link informed and brushing pewter dust off the rock, he read, "The Hero of Winds, the chosen conductor of the WindWaker," he paused as the words sunk in, "weave thy baton to the scales impressed below..." Forehead scrunching and oily with perspiration, the child repeated the words. "The Hero of Winds, the chosen conductor of the WindWaker; weave thy baton to the scales impressed below." He silently contemplated the figures carved on the stone. Four diamonds strung in a row, their insides etched in nonsense symbols. "There is drawing here...I don't know what to do." Link's tone trembled. "I have the WindWaker with me," he extracted the slim, ivory baton from the mess inside his bag and ran his fingers across is smooth, cool surface. "It says I should weave...I don't know how to weave," Link lamely confided. "Grandma is an expert at weaving and knitting...come to think of it," he babbled, "she's teaching Aryll too."

The boat's lack of a response worried the boy and he held the stone tighter, its cerulean glow washing over his hands.

At long last, the nobleman's voice leaked through the charm. "Can you describe what's carved into those triangles?" Link attempted to fill Daphnes in on the details and the boat listened without a single interruption. "Well, I think that is enough, pull yourself together child, you are doing well." Voice cracking, Link quieted and wearily waited for further instructions; he worried his lower lip, wondering if he managed to convey the full details. "Hold the WindWaker-" Link gripped the stick, "-and follow my lead," the King of Red Lions commanded softly and the boy tensed, shoulders drawing inwards. "Move your baton to the left, bring it to the center, then to the right and back center again. Do it slowly, it should hum."

Knuckles and fingers white, Link thrust the baton to the left and it emitted a barely perceptible, sharp hum.

"No, not so fast, do it slowly, gently," Daphnes corrected. The blonde boy tried again, body relaxing when a smooth hum flowed. "Yes, remember the directions, they are important. Left, center, right and center." Grinning like he was presented with an extra-large bottle of Elixir soup, Link weaved a melody in the air, eyes closing at the melodious whistles. "Do you notice anything?" the boat prompted.

Link scowled thoughtfully. "No," he responded. This time, Daphnes directed him through the Wind's Requiem and became silent. Peeking at the still glowing stone, the child pressed, "What's going on? Can't I learn the Command Melody? Why isn't it working?" The Wind song was supposed to shift the air currents but the steady breeze inside the Tower of Gods did not change direction. "I'm...not the proper person for the WindWaker am I?" Link stared at the foreign stick in his hand. He played the command melody again, but nothing happened. The stone idols were supposed to come alive, but their eyes remained dormant.

Pitch black wells accusing. Judging.

And Link crumpled to the floor, the WindWaker dropping uselessly from his limp fingers.


XXXXX


Photine

Link slapped Renado's letter in front of Telma and studied the woman; several studs glinted in her pointy ears and a hair band pulled her thick hair into a ponytail. Behind her, in a niche, candle light flickered off labels in crisp, fancy lettering. Tinted wine bottles guarded their secrets zealously.

"Renado says you found Ilia after the monsters attacked her," Link stated.

Telma refused to comment and ripped the cream colored envelop, scanning the words impressed on the parchment. Metal loops swung on her fringe, glinting and impatiently bunching his fingers into fists, Link waited for a response from the woman. While she contemplated, Link scanned the rest of the tavern, vigorously waving away a cloud of smoke puffed in his face. A helmed castle guard, sitting at one of the round tables and drowning shots, laughed raucously with an unkempt man. Glaring at the inept guard, Link whirled around, disgusted at the lack of discipline. Focusing his laser intense glare on the platter of meat displayed at the counter, he toyed with an apple from the basket and replaced it when Telma waved the letter.

The barwoman excused herself and disappeared through a double doors leading to the back room. A lonely melody screeched from the gramophone spinning in the corner. Slouching at the bar, Link wrinkled his nose at the string of herbs drying inside the room. He sneezed, fished a handkerchief from his back pocket and blew his nose vigorously. The smoky atmosphere, coupled with the stench of strong spirits and the aromatic undertone of wood, proved too much for him and he doubled over in a fit of sneezes, cursing under his breath. What happened to his sense of smell anyway?

It was too sharp.

She came back, a slip of paper folded between her ringed fingers. "Take this to the clinic next door," she instructed and handed the slip over. Eyebrows widening at the astronomical sum written at the bottom of the paper, Link turned to leave. "And tell the good doctor to pay up his dues or else," Telma threatened, cracking her knuckles and rapping them sharply on the wooden counter.

Half smiling, Link exited the establishment and the door banged shut behind him, muffling the soulless melody and drunken chatter. Neatly trimmed shrubs lined the back streets, flowers neglected and speckled with dust. Crates, planks rotted, piled on the sidewalks and bred vermin. Cats prowled these places, hissing and spitting, they regarded the human cautiously as Link skirted the bar and peered through several side roads before pinpointing the clinic.

Wedged next to the grimy storefront of a pawn shop, Link did a double take at the lacquered boat carving sitting against the glass. Lingering a second longer, he pushed aside the clinic doors, nose wrinkling at the oppressive smell of clove oil. Sniffing, he located a nurse and asked for the doctor.

The overworked girl directed him through a long wooden hall, her shoes clicking an odd rhythm. Link passed curtained rooms, ears pricking at the groans of misery. A shrill cry, coming from a child with dusky red cheeks, clawed his head and patting the baby on her russet head, he continued deeper into the labyrinthine layout of the clinic. Near the back, the sounds quieted and paintings of bygone physicians, hung on the walls. Sparing the oil paintings a glance, Link pulled a faded white curtain aside and a room unfolded before him.

A study containing a teakwood table, shelves and rows and rows of books.

A gnarled old man, round glasses sliding down a hooked nose, squinted at the new comer. Holding up the slip of paper, Link enquired if he was the doctor. "Why yes," the medical man hobbled off an oversized chair and pushed his glass up with a stained finger. "And that is..." He trailed off. "Do you need something?" the doctor asked.

The cloying smell of antiseptic and peppermint oil perfused the room and Link coughed into a fist. "There is a girl that came by the clinic, you treated her for a while," he rubbed his nose, "she suffers from memory loss, can you tell me how to get her memory back?"

Feathery strands of hair waving with each movement, the doctor laced his rheumatic fingers together and straightened. "I understand you have a problem, but this is beyond my..." Link raised the bar tab meaningfully and fluttered the paper. Lantern light illuminated the sum signed at the bottom and the old man paled, face assuming the same ashen quality as his hair. "L-look, I know Telma hired you to persuade me, but she will have to wait. As for the young lady..." He tottered off to his bookshelf and the adolescent followed, eyes fixed on the doctor's bent body. "Oh yes, she had a statue," the medical man whipped around and stepped back to see Link towering over and reaching for a leather bound tome. "Lad, what are you doing? I doubt you will understand those medical texts." Link froze and the doctor opened his book on the table. "Let's see, yes she had a statue, I spilled some medicine on it and left it out to dry, next thing I know, it's been stolen!" The old man threw his hands up in despair.

"What?" Link barked and the doctor stiffened, hands in the air. "How could you...be so irresponsible..." mumbling, Link ran his hand through is hair and massaged his temples. "Fine, can you tell me anything else?"

Recovering from his near heart attack when the young man glared at him, the doctor nervously adjusted his glasses and hobbled to a pile of boxes, he retrieved a brown glass bottle. "I spilled camphor oil, it has a very strong scent. He rotated and stopped speaking when no audience graced his study chamber. "..." Grumbling under his breath, he placed the oil at the very edge of a shelf and tottered back to his books.

Outside, Link breathed deeply and scowled. No good. He eyed the weeds choking between the cobblestones paving the road. Clenching his teeth, he prowled in front of the pawn shop, stopping every few minutes to stare at the boat carving behind the soiled shop window.

"Why do always do that?" the imp, trailing in his shadow, demanded. Stopping, Link raised a questioning eyebrow at her. "You rock on your heels, like you are trying to retain your balance." The human stopped wriggling his toes and planted both boots firmly on the ground. "Now that's better," the Twilli remarked and the adolescent stalked towards a tiny kitten sitting in the shade of a box. Squatting, he scooped the feline in his palm and after an initial squeak of protest; it snuggled. "What are you doing?" Midna asked, hovering confusedly above the human's head.

Marble blue eyes half lidded at Link's ministrations, the kitten purred contentedly. "Cats and dogs have an acute sense of smell," he responded, tickling the kitten under its triangular chin and lips breaking into small smile. "I wonder if I can train this little one to..."

Midna floated higher, arms crossed incredulously over her chest. "Not going to happen," she pointed to the kitten. "That thing demands luxury, and the how are going to train it? The medicine smell trail is growing cold; you need to make it snappy. Don't forget we must gather the Twilight mirror shards."

Jaw clenched, Link slid the kitten off his palm. The feline stared at him accusingly, large blue eyes full of hurt. Mewling, it plopped right on top of Link's boot and purred. "I know I can't train it," he retorted sullenly and gently shook the kitten off. "What do you propose I do?"

"Turn into a wolf." Midna tossed the shadow crystal in her palm. "You will have a superb sense of smell, useful for tracking, oh I don't know," she snarked, "the camphor oil scent?"

Pain. Grimy Cobblestone. Skin tearing. Bone crackling...

Pain.

Breath rattling in his chest, Link hoarsely stated, "No." Giving the kitten one last scratch behind its pink ears, he stalked towards the pawnbroker's shop.

Hands clenching over the shadow crystal, Midna waited for the human to pause at the entrance and when he did, she threw the shadow crystal. The black spike cut through the air and the human's head whipped around, eyes narrowing at the pointy projectile. He jerked and the crystal clipped him across the temple, drawing a thin line of scarlet.

Link growled and picked the shadow crystal, mouth curled in distaste. "I said I won't turn into a..." Cutting him off in midsentence, the Twilli blitzed forward and rammed his hand against his head.

The shadow crystal sank and his pupils dilated.

Near the wooden box, the kitten mewed piteously and circled, drawing other cats into the alley. Unlike the younger boy, Link did not howl in pain when he transformed. Floating to the floor, Midna observed the transformation, apprehensive at the elongated sequence.

The human fought for control, low growls flaring from his mouth. Fingers scrabbled on the pavement, his skin ripped on the soiled stone. Fur sprouted and his nails lengthened into wicked claws. Lying tiredly on the floor, Link glared at Midna and for once, she did not smile. The glower promised a pain far beyond the realms of death and she shivered, cautiously moving away when he stood on all fours and shook his body. Ears flicking, he sniffed the air for strange smells.

Barking, Link tore down the sidewalk and crashed into a pile of boxes heaped at the street corner. The crates cracked, showering him with rubbish. Coffee grounds landed on his head. Stale pieces of bed fell on his back and rotten produce pooled around his paws. Stepping into a pulpy pumpkin, Link backtracked, lips pulled into a disgusted snarl. He redirected himself, sniffing the air for the camphor oil scent and tracked it, nose low to the ground or hungrily breathing the air.

He followed the invisible trail to Telma's bar. Nose stinging at the overpowering stench of alcohol and ammonia in the bushes, he traced the smell to the entrance and veered off course. The scent stopped at a white, plump cat eyeing him haughtily.

Louise?

"How are you doing Link?" the bar cat queried and the human morphed wolf gawped. He could understand cat.

Expression brightening, he asked, "I'm looking for a statue that stinks of camphor oil." Link howled softly. "Do you know anything about it?"

The snow white cat's whiskers and tail twitched. "Yes...I'm the one who took it. I wanted a new toy to play with."

"I'll buy you one when I turn back into a human," Link offered when Louise pawed the ground, digging the dirt packed between stones.

Sitting back pompously on her haunches, she regarded the human suspiciously. "The only thing you do is give me dry treats and sit at the bar, listening to drunken talk." Louise licked her chest fur. "Sometimes…I see you at the back." The cat drew to her full height. "But whatever, I'll remember your offer." She yawned. "I had the statue but those dogs took it." Her fur fluffed and Link wondered why cats and dogs fought with each other.

Come to think of it, humans were the worst of the lot.

"You will find the dogs near the southern gate; they pop up by the Goron hot spring water stall every night." Louise's whiskers quivered in rage. "I can't hunt properly because of them," her eyes turned into angry slits, "Make sure they don't come near my territory again and I'll get Telma to give you a discount the next time you visit."

Chuckling at the cat's offer, Link gazed at the sky where the sun slowly travelled overhead. Drained by the day's events, he slunk to the southern gate of Castle Town and the sun contorted his shadow into long, capering streams. Keeping to the back streets, he garnered a loyal following of cats, led by the blue eyed kitten he picked up earlier. The cats hardly talked, preferring to communicate in scathing one lines.

Ears flat on his head after hearing a particularly pelt peeling comment from a one-eyed cat; he squeezed through a small tunnel of mossy, damp bricks and bid farewell to the little kitten.

"Will you come back?" It mewed, high pitched voice echoing in the tunnel and pupils widening for maximum persuasiveness.

I'll come back and make you mine, Link silently vowed. He dropped to an unfrequented street. The stench of a nearby cesspool assaulted nose and eyes watering, he crawled to the southern gate, lying underneath the Goron's hot spring water stall.

Market street bustled, full of shoppers and hawkers, shouting and screaming. Freshly baked bread and toasted sesame seeds wafted from a brown paper bag. The aroma of bruised petals fused with the expensive, sandalwood tones of noblewoman's perfume. Head resting on forepaws, Link shut his eyes, resolving to get some rest.

The fragrance of sandalwood lingered in his nostrils, painting a picture of a floor carpeted in sheep wool. He stood in the doorway, left hand covered by a velvet glove and neck suffocated by his school shirt. Mother combed her hair and smiled.

And smiled.

And smiled while the sages tore his parents apart from him.

Beams of orange light washed the market place. As the sun set, the streets quieted. Shopkeepers accounted their sales and losses, quills and ink flashing over parchment. Stale food and bread were dropped in a rubbish cart and hauled away by uniformed porters. Boots and slippers thudded on the ground, each vibration chilling Link's spine. The market, no more a gaudy affair, stood stark naked, a skeleton of wooden stalls and colorful awnings desperately catching the dying sunlight. Stretching underneath the raised platform, Link crawled out, searched for any onlookers and trotted to the edge of the gate.

Paw pads rubbed raw by gravel, Link's shadow left him, swallowed the darkness. An irritating weight settled on his back and he recalled the first time he ventured into Ordona village as a wolf, Midna wore the Ordona shield as a mask. From there, he tumbled into the world of the Great Sea, learnt how to sail, taught himself how to read an entirely new language and experienced true freedom.

A silver half-moon drew dappled patches underneath trees and he waited, pupils alternately widening and shrinking. From the field beyond Castle Town's gates, a low howl resounded, raising the fur lying flat across Link's nape. Another howl joined, the sounds blending into a melodious tune. Ears cocked, Link listened, fur fluffing with each bark accompanying the original howl.

One, three, five...Six.

Six dogs, eyes glimmering in moonlight, emerged from the long grasses bordering the field, their nails scraped wood and the scratching gnawed on Link's bones. Red pupils materialized from deep black and the leading dog paused, lifting a wet nose and sniffing the air. Shoulders tensed, Link stepped forward to meet them and ivory canines flashed. Thunder in a black cave. The dogs regarded the newcomer suspiciously and fanned out on all sides, formation distorted due to the bridge railings. Covetous pinpricks snapped constantly to the cyan ring threaded through Link's ear and the dogs waited for a signal from their leader.

Attack.

Link read their intention in their faces and bodies. Stiffening, they attacked. The one to the back jumped a little too early and swiping to the side, he knocked into one, squashing the hound into the railing.

A piercing pain flared from Link's hind leg and turned to see the leader sinking its fangs, malicious delight conveyed in the drawn back lips. Following its lead, the rest of the dog scrambled for his back legs and Link snapped at them, snarling and howling as blood matted his long, blue-grey fur.

He sunk his teeth into a dog's nape and instantly pulled away when blood sprayed the roof of his mouth. Disgusting.

Midna, floating above the frothing mass, simply crossed her arms and watched the spectacle with a blank face. She seemed to suck the light from the moon. Tearing an ear off, Link pushed a hound off his head and pounced, ripping himself out from the claws and teeth pinning his back. Blood speckled the streets, shining cherry red.

Three dogs remained in the fray.

One died, bleeding out on the bridge, crimson seeping through the wooden boards and stiffening fur into spikes. Another two licked their wounds, urging the attacking comrades with vindictive barks. Muzzle scarred, Link lunged, jaws closing over the jugular. As he ripped the vein apart, the Twilli looked away, sniffing at the copper stench in the air.

The leader of the pack, a calculative beast by all standards, circled the fresh corpse and tackled the sacred wolf to the ground, pinning the great beast between thin forelegs. The two tussled, snapping and barking and ripping mouthfuls of fur.

Kicking the hound away, Link rose, only to be bowled back to the ground when the dog descended on him, clamping jaws over the wolf's throat. Gurgling loudly, Link struggled and Midna whipped her hair, tossing the dog away.

"We have to work together," she implored and he nodded after a second's hesitation. "Hmph, I'm happy to see you worked on your prudish attitude at least." She crash landed on his back and he glared angrily at her. "Some things don't change." She grinned. "Remember how we worked together to defeat those shadow creatures near the Forest Temple?" He growled in agreement. "It's the same setup; I used a bit of Twilight magic to get rid of them quickly."

Magic...The Twilight race dabbled in it, why didn't he notice it earlier?

Exhausted, he kept his eyes on the leader and the wounded dogs circled him like hungry sharks. On his back, Midna concentrated and he barked at her to hurry up. She patted his forehead firmly and her hand hair rose from her head, glowing orange.

"It seems like we have a problem," Midna confessed after he dodged a death lunge from a dog. "You can't use magic anymore."


Her confession threw him off guard and he barely registered the pain in his ribs when the leader barreled into him. What do you mean? He hissed. I can use magic; I used it across the Great Sea! The WindWaker... Distraught, he suffered a slash across his cheek and doubled back, shaking blood from his eyes. The WindWaker is a baton relying on magic, I can change air currents for Din's sake, what the heck is this nonsense?' He whirled around, teeth catching the edge of a torn ear and yanking it off the skull. The dog fell off the edge, pathetic yowls echoing across stone. The first time...I...Forget it. Link roughly shook the imp off his back and she retreated, glowering at him aggressively like it was somehow his fault.

Channeling his anger, he worked it off the lead dog, taking his time to strip the creature off its fur before finishing it off by snapping its spine. Shell shocked, he pawed the corpse, ears twisting at a dull clink on the bridge. Mechanically, he rolled the statue and studied the varnished carving. The little owl gleamed in bone white light and he remembered the spark in Shad's eyes.

The scholar mentioned something about the Hero of Time being associated with these statues? And a City in the sky? Long ago, when Shad visited Rusl's house, the he spoke about a city in the sky and a race of bird humans utilizing light magic, young Shad was promptly shut down by Rusl and warned not to talk freely about such matters.

Rolling the statue across a pool of dried dog blood, Link picked it between his teeth and crept towards Castle Town's gates, collapsing near the heavy doors.

Turn me back into a human, he scowled at Midna. The demon floated, inspecting him critically from all angles. Don't just stare at me demon, do something! He seethed, alarmed at her guarded expression.

She reached for his snout and quickly withdrew her hand when he snapped his jaws. "Easy there Doggy," she taunted and perched on his head. "Just wish to be human and the crystal will osmose out of your body." Link lifted a disbelieving eyebrow. Wish? "The Master Sword allows you to turn back into a human, good thing you stole it." She laughed when Link lunged for her, blood encrusted claws slicing through the air. "But really," she stood on the ground, a good few meters away from the smoldering wolf, "you should be able to turn back, however, I sense this problem also concern's why you cannot use my magic any longer and why you and the child traded places."

The sacred wolf did not want to hear her conjecture; his brain bounced, throwing a million possibilities at once. All of them unpleasant. Why did he and the child swap? Why did the young boy see him as a reflection?

Why did he enjoy his stay in the Great Sea so much?

Don't think about it!

Why was he so reluctant to return to Hyrule?

"You are not the Hero of Twilight," Midna said, her words raking through him like a rusted saw. Blood roared in his ears. A tidal wave. A storm. Drowning him in a sea of misery and disbelief. "As crazy as it sounds, the Triforce at the back of your paw," she prodded his bleeding foot with a stick, "does not belong to you."

It's the child's.

Her unspoken words danced in the upward tilt of her lips.

And Link knew what it felt like to hate.


A/N: The fight between the dogs and the wolf was inspired by the Warriors Series by Erin Hunter. I love it, feral cats fighting for territory, for honor, for their tribe.

WW Link feeling awfully inadequate against TP Link, this is a reminder not to compare yourself with anyone. We are all unique and such comparison only brings unhappiness.

Anyway, please read and review, constructive criticism is appreciated. I hope everyone enjoys this story, have a happy, chocolate filled day.

At Novirp13: Unfortunately, it seems despite coming back home, the poor Links find themselves in greater trouble than before. At James Birdsong: Thanks for your comment. At : I'm in the firm belief that a peaceful life can be led by liberal consumption of dark chocolate, the 70% cocoa kind.