AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm back. Sorry, July gets out of my hands every year.

They have been on the road for two days, and there's another two, at least to go. A couple advance riders have been sent ahead to prepare for the royal party, but otherwise it's the same frustrating slow going for Link.

He and Zelda have managed to carve out some time, here and there. They had dinner in private one night, and that was nice. Roast cucco with potatoes, white wine from Kakariko - maybe, he didn't recall. It had been nice to have what was on the surface such a completely normal experience; even if he hadn't done the cooking this time and he was opposite the queen of Hyrule, instead of a reference librarian or a shopkeeper. Afterward they had gone and made rounds on the camp, her arm on his and if Impa had raised her eyebrow at him that was the only comment she made. He takes care to be formal in the open. Maybe more formal than before.

He seeks Impa out for sparring in the mornings and she has left further questioning on what his relationship with Zelda might be doing alone. He makes sure to stay focused during these sessions with her, so he cannot be called out for being distracted. He can do more than one thing at a time, he reminds himself. He has gotten better at setting her back, though she still sometimes surprises him.

Most of the day is in the saddle, and he mostly keeps to the back half, where he has been the entire ride. Sometimes Impa joins him and sometimes she rides with Zelda. On this particular day, though, they are riding together and swapping stories about horses.

"I tried to get my pony to swim when I was a kid. I didn't want to ruin leather tack in the water, because of my dad, so I spent so much time trying to get a bit on a rope halter. And then she just dumped me as soon as it got deep and ran back to the barn anyway." He shakes his head. "Fancy was a humbling experience at times."

"It must have been humbling to have a pony named Fancy."

"What!? It suited her. She was fancy. Her coloring was outrageous. Roan on bay with appaloosa spots on her bum. I have no idea where she came from to look like that. Oh, she was a good pony."

Impa laughs. "I didn't learn riding until I was in the service of the Royal family, I cannot say I have had the relationships with horses you seem to enjoy."

"Horses are great," he says, scanning the road. "They take you all sorts of places you don't expect, literally and figuratively."

Epona turns her head to the left suddenly and her ears flick forward. Reflexively, his gaze follows whatever has drawn hers. He studies the area and sees nothing, but he can feel the mare tense and drift to the right a little. She quickens her pace to a jog and Impa's horse follows.

"What's that about?" Asks Impa. "Horses certainly are great."

"Something scary I can't see." Epona seems to relax again. "I'm going to circle back and see if I can't find what was bothering her, I'd like to make sure it was nothing."

"I'll join you, then."

They wheel the horses around and head back down the road for a few minutes. Everything seems fine in that direction. When they turn back, Impa's horse stops and raises its head off to the left with a snort. Epona seems more relaxed, but focuses on the same far off point.

"Easy, easy," mutters Link. This feels like trouble. He stands in his stirrups to try and get a better vantage. There is still nothing...no, wait, motion, just a little. Dust or something picked up by the wind, maybe. It's been cold and dry in the north western section of Hyrule, it's common for the wind to pick up loose top soil and spin it a bit.

It occurs to him that the air has been still this morning, and the dust cloud seems to be moving toward them. He keeps on eye on the motion and stretches back into his head, but there's nothing.

And then there's a faint hum and a vibration along his spine as the sword takes notice.

"Impa. Maybe that is nothing, but maybe it's not. Hang on, we are going back. Fast." He clicks to Epona and reins her head back toward the main party before pressing her with his heels. She launches forward at a gallop, Impa close behind. They catch the back of the party quickly and Link rides up on the rear guard, breathlessly explains there's trouble and they should move, fast, now.

The guard opens his mouth to reply and then his eyes flick over Link's shoulder. Link cocks his head as the guard's expression changes, eyes widening and mouth dropping open, color draining from his face. He twists in his saddle to look behind him and galloping up the trail is someone on horseback, but they are straight of a nightmare.

The horse is coal black, and sparks strike up as its hooves hit the ground. The rider seems human, with red hair and what he had thought was dust is some purple black aura, and there's the smell of twisted magic in the air.

He turns Epona on her haunches to face this, aware that he and Impa stand alone between whatever this is and his party. The black horse slides to a stop.

Where's your dance partner, chosen of Farore? Don't tell me you brought this other one again?

Link sees Impa shift in the saddle from the corner of his vision. "Impa, go to Zelda and keep her safe." He takes his reins in his left hand and reaches over his right shoulder to take the sword's hilt as she turns her horse and gallops up the road.

He hasn't fought on horse before, not really, it wasn't a skill he had ever needed to hone. He wasn't built to joust, and there were only so many things one could learn to do well. He hopes he will be ok. He puts his heels to Epona and she half rears and bounces forward to engage. She covers the distance to the black horse in four or five strides and Link pulls her to a stop.

Oh, he is as big as dad. Maybe bigger.

He definitely seemed human, at least. Or maybe he started out that way. He is taller and broader than Link. And younger. Maybe mid twenties. Link thought he remembered what twenty five felt like, thought he could recall the fire he'd felt then. He could certainly see it in his opposition's dark eyes. The twisted sweetness of dark magic roils off him, and the temperature has dropped a few degrees. The horse is hard to look at, its not right in ways he doesn't quite grasp. And there's the sword. Blackened steel folded with magic, blade a series of zig zags instead of a beveled edge, same oddly slipped crossguard. He bets the sword is trouble.

"Are you Ganondorf?"

"Not exactly." it's the voice he's been hearing. Smoke and silk. The horse that's not a horse shifts.

"Are you Demise?"

"I struck a deal with Demise, Hylian Hero, you can call me Damian"

The sword in his right hand is nearly vibrating. The back of his hand burns. He tightens his grip on the hilt and clenches his teeth. His enemy has named himself at least. Epona stirs under him, but holds her ground. Link keeps eye contact.

"I don't need you, Hero. I am here to claim that crone currently embodying the goddess. I will need her when I claim her throne and take my rule over these lands. Part of her, at least."

Link feels something small and cold in his gut. He rolls the shoulder of his sword arm back.

"You can step aside or I can go through you. I've been watching you and you don't seem like much, old man. Though I think that blade is pretty, I'll take that as a souvenir."

Link barks out a laugh. It comes out of the depths in the back of his head. It's someone else laughing.

"Well, then, youngster, come take it." Oh, how he had hated being called a youngster when he was training. Hated it. He raises the sword and puts his heels to Epona. She surges forward.

The black horse surges too, maybe partially dissolving into smears of purple black. Link's swing is blocked by the obsidian blade. He feels clumsy with a sword on horse back. Something to stab with would be better. He adjusts his grip and tries jabbing forward instead of a swing. He manages to get under Damian's weapon and feels flesh give at the point, but his moment of satisfaction breaks when the other man's sword comes down on the master sword, close to the hilt. Damian meets his eyes, pushes him back, and then quickly takes another swing and lays a strike across Link's right thigh.

He is reminded of the drool on the big spider in the Forest Temple. He is momentarily blind with pain and manages to get Epona to move away while he regroups. He takes a look and its as bad as he fears, blood, and ...smoke? He wonders if he is smelling himself cooking.

There's no time to deal with this. That black horse is moving forward, are its eyes red? He swings wildly and manages to connect, this time the blade gives the thrum he knows means a hit.

They back off and circle each other. His right thigh is on fire and he struggles to stay on top of it, forcing his focus to ride the pain.

"You don't need to be part of this, Hero. You can go. I just need her."

"You're going to need to go through me for that." Just push through, keep pushing.

"As you wish, Hero."

The black horse leaps forward in a rush. Link spins Epona on her hindquarter, dodging the black sword. He hears it swing past his ear, but it strikes nothing. Link twists in his saddle, and takes a swing at Damian back. It's a good, solid hit, one he feels all the way up his arm. The sword sends a vibration through him, as well. He pushes Epona forward and swings again, landing another blow. Three quick strides and he puts Epona in front of the black horse and squares off again.

Link is panting as he stares his opponent down. He is hot and tired already. There's a throb in his thigh, and he can feel the blood soaking his trousers. He still smells the burn. He digs in for the next round. Just push through. Damian snarls and then gasps and pulls back and there's an arrow shaft in his right pectoral. It's not made of anything Link has ever seen before. No, he has seen something like this before.

It's a light arrow, it has to be.

Damian puts a hand over the arrow. It seems that was a worse injury than anything he'd managed to do.

"This is not over, chosen of Farore," and the purple black smoke swirls and he's gone, leaving the reek of twisted magic behind.

Link turns in his saddle and spots her, bow still drawn. He thinks maybe she's met his eyes, but the wound on his thigh flares, making him grit his teeth. He turns Epona back up the road and clucks go, grabbing mane as she bolts back toward the group.

Camp was a turmoil that night. He got a dose of red potion on the run when the medic decided the wound he had was partially infused with dark magic so there is a new, wide scar across his thigh. He is still drained when they stop to set up a modified camp with a tighter footprint and guards around the entire perimeter. The medic insists he spend the night in the infirmary tent and as he is settling down, Zelda enters.

"I heard you were hurt,"

"Magic sword." he replies.

She takes a seat on the cot next to his, and takes his hand. "You were right to make me practice. I was much more confident about taking that shot without putting it in your back." She smiles.

He returns it. "You're welcome."

"I'm going to stay here tonight. The guard captain wants to leave a decoy my tent, so Impa will be there."

"I think its going to be quiet tonight."

"I agree. Precautions."

They sit quietly, hand in hand.

"We did run him off," she finally says.

"That was just a test, I think. He's feeling us out."

Silence. He idly runs his thumb across hers. "He doesn't know everything. I fight better on the ground, swords are clumsy on horses.

"Plus, we were not really a team today. He will face us together when it's time." He brings her hand up and presses his lips to it. "Together."

She smiles and he returns it. "Thank you for staying, Zelda."

"Go to sleep, Link."