Legend of Zelda: Reconciliation

by Rose Zemlya

Sequel to The Legend of Zelda: The Return. Based loosely on A Link to the Past.

15. Chapter 15 and Interludes

The Legend of Zelda: Reconciliation

Hey all;

Gasps for breath So many … characters … drowning in … subplots … can't … breathe …!

Sorry for the massive interludes in this chapter. :-P Trying to keep everything straight and on time. This chapter drove me insane trying to keep all the subplots straight long enough to get them down on paper and I still haven't hit half of them. :-P Meh, I'll live.

Also sorry for the wait. The semester from Hell is officially over! Exams went swimmingly once I was actually in the exam rooms (for once in my life. I wish I knew what I'd done differently this semester to make it go so much better than usual) and I've once again brought my marks up to where they should be from my "slacking year" last year which saw them plummet. Nothing quite like having to come up with creative solutions to keep your mother from finding out about all the C's decorating your report card to give you a kick in the pants and get your grades back on track. Thanks for all the support!

And, I've now got a degree under my belt and a full-time job. :-) I'll be finished up my honours part-time starting the fall, but until then I've got my evenings back, which is good, because it means what free-time used to go to studying can now maybe go to writing. Hopefully. Cross your fingers.

At any rate, sorry again for the wait!

I hope you enjoy the read and it was worth the wait!

Rose Zemlya

P.S. I have inserted the asterisks by hand in this chapter in the stupid little quick edit thing ... in the preview window they are showing up ... this will be a very confusing chapter without them ... please oh please oh please let this work ...

P.P.S. No. No it did not. When I hit save they got stripped again. Dammit. Here's hoping I've managed to catch all the places where the HRs go ...

"A politician is a fellow who will lay down your life for his country."
Texas Guinan

"The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together."
Erma Bombeck

xxx

A Brief Interlude

"Oh yes, of course!" Said the woman brightly. "Just give me a minute and I'll fetch him. You have a seat dear, I shan't be a moment." And as easily as that she bustled off. Brayden felt a brief sting of helpless irritation at how easy this was. The boy was in trouble and his family wasn't even bothering to hide him from strangers. Two queries in town as to whether anyone knew of a thirteen year old boy from Castletown come to stay with his relatives, and a short little walk, and he was on top of the kid.

What if he had been the Hylian guard? His sister was still considered wanted on one trumped up charge or another. The call for her arrest had gone out the instant Agahnim realized she'd gone missing. And Brayden knew for a fact that Agahnim wouldn't have spared her brother if he couldn't find her.

He sighed and let his irritation go. It didn't matter. He had found the boy before the guard could and that was what counted. He didn't even think the guard was actively looking for him. His family probably didn't even fully understand the danger he was in anyway. He wasn't sure how much Marni had told her aunt in the letter she had sent with her brother.

He sighed again and settled himself into a simple wooden chair at the kitchen table, loosening his scarf. It had been freezing outside, but between the stove in the corner and the light shining in through the window, the little kitchen was almost uncomfortably warm. He cast a casual glance around the room and tried his best not to be jealous of all the little hints of family in the room. There were baby toys in the corner, scattered on the floor; a man's coat, two women's coats, and a child's coat hung near the stove; lunch was simmering over the fire, a pot too large to have been intended for one person only; and a million other little hints and clues that a family lived here.

And each and every one of them only served to drive the icy knife of grief and fear even deeper than it had been into Brayden's heart. His brother was dead, and all three of the people he considered his children were gone. Missing in action. Two of them, he knew, were alive. Din only knew in what kind of dire straits, but alive. They had to be. If nothing else, the ever-growing horde of moblins gave him that much hope at least. But the third…his son…no one knew. No one knew if he was alive, or dead, or dying somewhere. No one even knew if he was on this plane. No one knew anything about where he was.

Brayden didn't let himself dwell on it too long, however. He'd learned his lesson regarding that the hard way. If he focused on it he'd just drive himself into a helpless panic, which was no good at all. There was work that needed to be done here, and every last able-bodied man, woman and child was required to do it. He couldn't help Link. He didn't even know where Link was. Didn't even know if Link was alive.

He could help the people here. Had to help the people here.

He couldn't do anything for Link, but pray and trust in his abilities to get himself through this crisis like he had all the others. He had worked miracles before, even in the short three years since Brayden had been reunited with him. He had to believe that Link could work them again.

Luck ran in his family. It was in his blood.

He just hoped it would be enough.

xxx

"Hey, Timo." Thomas sighed heavily and forced his irritation back.

"With all due respect, Lady Nabooru," he said, turning around and meeting her gaze with a trace of his old nervousness. No matter what he'd been through, Nabooru still had an innate ability to scare him. "My name is Thomas."

"Whatever, kid," she said waving it off as unimportant, prompting him to briefly wonder if she was forgetting his name on purpose, and what, exactly, her point was in doing so. "And don't call me 'lady.' I haven't got a title. I don't want a title. Call me Nabooru and let me hear whatever respect you feel I'm due in your voice, not in your useless additions to my name. Now, listen, I've got a proposition for you." Thomas straightened. Second time he'd heard that phrase today, and he couldn't help but wonder if this proposition would be as shocking as the last has been.

On the other hand, when a Gerudo offered a Sheikah a proposition it was bound to be shocking – and quite possibly life-threatening.

"Um," he said, "all right. What is it?"

"You've heard the announcement?" She asked. "The one your Mum just made?" Thomas raised an eyebrow and felt depressed all over again.

"You mean the one about how Neesha and Link are missing and an army of first generation Moblins are plotting our doom as we speak?" He asked.

"That's the one," Nabooru said almost cheerily. Thomas couldn't help staring at her incredulously. "So here's the deal: how close were you to what Agahnim was doing to the Maidens?" Thomas felt his gut clench and he frowned.

"Nabooru, I've told you all I know already," he said quietly. "I'd really, rather not relive it all over again."

"Sorry, worded my question wrong," Nabooru returned. "I meant it literally. Physically how closer were you when the spell was cast?" Thomas blinked in surprise.

"Well, I was … I was there."

"How close?"

"Very close," Thomas answered, irritated with her. "Right beside the damn altar. What does this have to do with—"

"Perfect!" Nabooru said, smirking at nothing in particular. "We'll find him yet." She turned the smirk on Thomas and the Sheikah suddenly felt very, very afraid.

"What are you—"

"Come on, Terrance," she said without a hint of any doubt he would immediately follow her, "it's back to the desert for you!"

xxx

Chapter 15

"I give up!" I cry, throwing my hands into the air. "We've tried everything. We beat the monsters; door didn't open. We found the switch, pushed it; door didn't open. We grabbed a statue and pushed that onto the switch; door didn't open. I've smashed the switch, both doors, and half the walls with every last implement in my pouch and still the door won't open! What more can we do! The room is empty!"

It's true. Except for the ugly gargoyle statue I grunted and shoved and heaved over and onto the switch that I had hoped would open the door, there's nothing in here but me, Anduriel and Kiki. Normally at this point, I'd suggest turning around and just going back the way we came to find another way, or some other piece of the puzzle we're obviously missing, but that door is shut too and we can't open it.

"Link, remember what I said about serenity?" Anduriel inquires calmly. "Now would be a good time to apply it."

I mutter something impolite under my breath and storm off to a corner to cool down.

I can't help being frustrated at this delay. I'm more impatient than ever to just get to Laruto and get her out. Especially given that I've got a limited amount of time … if we don't find her before night falls…

You know, I don't really remember being three years old. I mean, I remember being 17 years old and going back in time and meeting myself when I was three years old, but that doesn't count. I don't have that memory from the other angle. I suppose it's for the best – three wasn't really a good year for me (neither was 17 come to think of it, but just as many good things came out of it as bad, so I suppose I can't complain). Between the war I wasn't old enough to understand, the mad run for the Lost Woods and the loss of both my parents … some things are best left forgotten. I can only imagine how a three-year-old would have felt about all those things. I can't imagine how you'd deal with it. You've barely got the cognitive ability to differentiate between boys and girls at that age, or circles and squares, never mind contemplating death and war and a million other things.

But even then I had an advantage over Laruto. I may have been three, but I was born in the middle of a war, and even at that age I suspect I was no stranger to running. Not many three year olds understand the concept of enemies, but I did. Had to, I had so damn many of them.

But Laruto…Laruto was born during a stretch of peace (or hatched, or whatever. Forgive me if I'm neither knowledgeable nor interested in the birthing process of Zoras. It's right up there on my list of things-I-don't-want-to-think-about with the Goron reproductive cycles. They both have babies. Don't know how. Don't care how. Don't want to know how. The kids are cute that's all that matters. Some things you just aren't meant to know). Laruto's never had any enemies. Laruto's never even had to deal with discomfort in her short little life. She's spoiled rotten, just like her mother (though Acqul does his best to temper this as well as he can. The two women in Acqul's life, however, his wife and his daughter, both have him wrapped around their little fingers. It'll be one battle the General never wins…). She's the sweetest, happiest, cutest little Zora you've ever met in your entire life and I love her to pieces.

And right now she's trapped in the Dark World, under some kind of black magic spell, and in the hands (pincers?) of a giant, evil Maeasm. It's been months since she's last seen her parents, and in fact the last she saw of her parents was her father being attacked and having his arm broken.

All I want right now is to rescue her. To get her out of here. I know I can't get her out of the Dark World yet, not until I find a portal of some kind, but if I could just get her away from here.

But first I need to find a way out of this room.

I throw another, frustrated look around the room. There's no way out. Two doors and they're both locked and barred and apparently unbreakable. The switch is pressed and they won't open. We're trapped in here. Trapped like rats.

Or monkeys.

I blink. Where is the little monkey, anyway?

As though summoned by my thoughts I feel a thunk on my head that causes me to give a startled yelp and jump away from the wall, twisting around and looking up. The little monkey blinks down at me with his too-large eyes from a crevice in the ceiling and looks suspiciously as though he is smirking.

"I is being finding something," he says. "There is being a tunnel in the ceiling."

"Where does it lead, Kiki?" Anduriel inquires calmly before I can respond.

"It is being leading to another room, Ki. Like this one, Ki."

"Does the other room have a switch?" I ask, brightening.

"Ki, Kiki thinks so, yes."

"It's a double switch," I mutter. "Farore, I hate these things." Anduriel turns to me expectantly.

"You seem to have experience with this sort of thing. What would you recommend?" I scratch my head. There's really only one thing to do, and that's push the other switch. Once both are pushed the door should open. But the question remains…

"Kiki, how far is it from here to the other room?" I ask. Kiki's nose twitches.

"Far," he says. "Kiki runs down long tunnel."

"So if I walked through that door, it probably won't open up onto the room you saw?"

"Kiki is thinking nos."

"Great I mutter," rubbing my face wearily. "Just great."

"What?" Anduriel asks. I sigh.

"We're probably going to have to fight our way through a couple rooms in order to get to the one that Kiki saw. When he presses the switch the doors will unlock, likely for as long as he sits on the switch, but in the meantime, we're going to have to fight our way through to him."

"You're sure?"

"I've made something of a career as a dungeon crawler," I tell her simply. "If this place works at all like the Temples in the Light World – and it has so far – then I'm sure." I look back up at Kiki. "Anything dangerous in the room with the switch?" Kiki frowns.

"Nos," he says. "There is just being the switch. It is being like this rooms."

"Good," I say. "Kiki, we need you to go sit on that switch. And don't move until we get there."

"Ki, alones!" Kiki demands. "You is wantings Kiki to being sitting alones!"

"Uh, yeah," I say, frowning at him. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's what I just said." Kiki's nose twitches.

"Kiki is being charging—"

"Kiki is being charging nothing!" I snarl, cutting him off and pointing an accusatory finger at him. "We had a deal, you little rat! Ten rupees now, ninety later, and you do what I say without charging me anything else from now on." Kiki glares at me.

"Kiki was not knowing you is being wanting him to sits alones!" He complains. "Ki, you is not being fair."

"A deal's a deal," I say flatly, crossing my arms. "And I'm not paying you the ninety rupees if you break the deal." Kiki sniffs, offended.

"Then Kiki just leaves you here," he says. "Kiki can be finding his own ways out."

"Kiki can go ahead and leave," I respond, turning around and leaning up against the wall, "but if Kiki leaves me here, he's not going to get paid the ninety rupees. Can't very well get it for him if I die in here, now can I?" Kiki pauses, hesitates. His nose twitches. At last he makes a frustrated noise.

"Fines!" He cries, then turns and scampers into the hole in the wall, muttering to himself. I roll my eyes and push off the wall, reaching over my shoulder and loosening my sword in its sheath as I do so.

"Any idea what we're looking at beyond this door?" I ask Anduriel. She cocks her head to one side.

"I can hear…mechanical rumblings. I really can't tell you more than that, unfortunately." She looks genuinely apologetic. "I could expand my senses, but that would alert the monster to our presence and I don't think that would be wise." I nod fervently.

"I'm with you on that one," I say. "Last time I messed with a Maeasm I was unconscious for two weeks. And that was just a little one." I shake my head and give an involuntary shudder. The venom from the cat-sized scorpion had made me as sick as I've ever been. Gerudo blood, or not, I'm still pretty sure I'm lucky I survived it. Not to mention the subsequent capture by the Witches and near brush with brainwashing.

As always when I remember that … adventure, my mind flashes back to an image of myself in black leather, with frightening blue eyes. The version of me Koume and Kotake showed to me when they tried to convert me. It had frightened me then, the possibility that I could become that, but I've got a whole new context now to be scared of it in.

That version of me is one who lost himself to the Beast, and it makes the threat of this thing inside me that much more real. The thought puts a cold chill into my bones and something of it must show on my face because Anduriel gives me a concerned look.

"What's wrong?" She asks. I shake my head and draw the Master Sword, clutching its hilt and taking comfort in its familiar weight.

"Nothing," I say. "I'm all right. Just … unhappy train of thought, that's all." Anduriel watches me for a moment more and looks as though she's going to say something, but the next instant there's a mechanical grinding and the door finally wrenches itself open. We turn as one and tense, peering into the next room to see what we're up against. I wince and grind my teeth together.

"Ah for Din's sake…"

The room is a long and narrow one. Up the middle of it run a series of treadmills, most of which appear to be running in random directions, and every now and then switching up, just for fun. Between us and the other end are a series of rather deadly looking spike-ball-things that sweep back and forth across the ground, the tips of their points scraping against the floor and the treadmills as they go. Floating idly above the treadmills and between the spiked-balls-of-death are a few of the weird little jelly-fish type things that randomly float around this place. They have nothing to do with anything as far as I can see, but they're annoying none-the-less.

On the other end of the room, Kiki is perched in the middle of a second room visible through the door.

"Goddess I hate rooms like this."

"I do wish you would use something besides the Goddesses to swear," Anduriel notes calmly as she moves for the door. "Just be careful, that's all. Take it slowly."

"The treadmills are going to make taking it anywhere difficult," I mutter, then draw in my breath. "All right, let's do this thing." I tense myself and wait 'till the first ball has swung out of my trajectory before pushing myself into the room and onto one of the treadmills heading towards Kiki. Thanks to its speed I'm well past the first ball long before it swings my way again.

Unfortunately, I'm now on a floor consisting entirely of treadmills, all going in any direction they feel like, and little things like timing my rushes are suddenly a lot more complicated.

For example:

I'm bracing myself on a treadmill heading towards Kiki and the end of the room, getting ready to leap past the next spiky ball when it passes, but just as I bend my legs to spring past it, the treadmill abruptly changes direction, causing me to stumble forward a step and fall on my face. The treadmill carries me back just in time to keep my head from being impaled on a long spike, but now I haven't got my feet, and it's carrying me back towards the first ball, which looks like it's going to be timed exactly to when I arrive, which is very not good.

I snarl an oath – Goddess free, I might add – and roll to the side, onto a treadmill heading back towards Kiki's room. I manage to make it past the second spiky ball on my hands and knees, but the treadmill after the first one is going in the opposite direction, so I'm not really making any progress once I'm past the ball, just sort of crawling in place. Frantically, I might add. Once the ball I've just passed (which is immediately behind me and too close for comfort) has passed, I take the chance to throw myself to my feet, only to have the treadmill abruptly change direction, heading now for Kiki's room, and throwing me forward once more…

… and right into one of the jellyfish. It doesn't hurt at first, of course. At first it's actually kind of soft and billowy, like a pillow. A pillow with tentacles that gently wrap around you as you struggle to free yourself from it, as though it's trying to hug you goodnight. And then, quite abruptly, it tucks you in with a violent shock of electricity that makes your legs stiffen and your vision go black and no matter how hard you try you can't let go because your body has mysteriously stopped listening to you. The best part, though, is that you're standing on a treadmill and you know that you're heading for a spiky ball of death. Your only real comfort, of course, is that the thing is attached to you at the moment, and so will likely suffer the same sticky fate, pillow-like-texture or not.

They should put a label on these things: Store at room temperature in a dark dungeon. Keep out of reach of children, animals, and wayward heroes. Not a lifesaving device.

On the upside, I just happen to have a real lifesaving device with me. Its name is Anduriel.

A flash of light penetrates the black ring around my sight and the tentacles loosen their grip. The next instant something is ripping the thing off of me and I can feel my legs going limp at last. Before I can hit the floor (treadmill…whatever), however, Anduriel grabs me and hauls me to my feet, stepping back onto a treadmill heading away from Kiki (and the spiked-ball-of-death nearly on top of us) and pulling me with her.

"Snap out of it, Link," she says. "You need your wits about you."

"You know," I manage thickly, shaking my head in a desperate attempt at clearing it. "I could have sworn you said that all the defences would be inanimate." I pull free of her grasp and miraculously manage to keep my balance as the treadmill changes direction again. "My shocking little friend over there would beg to differ."

"I didn't know about these," she responds calmly, turning around and leaping past the spiky-ball-of-death. I follow suite with decidedly less grace. "They're new."

"Ah," I say, bracing myself for a sudden shift in direction of the treadmill I'm on. We continue our slow, awkward way across the floor. "And this crazy treadmill-death-ball room? This new too?"

"The spikes are new," she admits. "It was originally designed merely to test anyone seeking entrance. Not to kill them. It's new … occupants must have felt my puzzles too mild and have decided to take them up a level."

"On what, the death scale?" I demand caustically, just barely dodging another floating jellyfish.

"Should such a scale actually exist," Anduriel says, "then yes. I expect it would be on the death scale." I stumble but keep my balance as the treadmill under my feet jerks back towards the room Kiki is in and the last spiky ball between me and it. It'll be close, but if I run I should make it.

And once I do I'm one step closer to rescuing Laruto and getting her out of this hell hole.

I'll deal with what comes after that when I get to it.

xxx

A Brief Interlude

There were three essential weapons in any half-decent politician's arsenal. Each of them was simple in their own right, but when used properly could grant a man access to power beyond his dreams. Cities, kingdoms, worlds could be toppled through subtle manipulation of these three tools. Agahnim had used them to their full extent and in doing so had brought Hyrule to her knees – but Agahnim wasn't the only one skilled with their use.

As the youngest son of the House of Eldrick, a distant cousin of the King himself, Dorian Eldrick had basted in politics for the entirety of his eighteen years. There wasn't a thing in his house that didn't have something to do with the "family business" and he had learned those lessons well – studied under the masters. He knew most of the nobles at court (had been "close" for brief periods of time with most of their daughters, and one or two of their wives) and had learned from them as well.

This, he knew, was his test. His Quisros as the Sheikah would have called it. This was his chance to prove to himself and to the world that he was a man, and a man of Hyrule no less.

The mangy dogs were gnawing away at Hyrule – it was time to teach them their proper place in the world.

It was time to unsheathe the politician's weapons.

"People of Hyrule!" He cried, raising his hands and quelling the rumbling crowd in front of him. He attempted a mental head count but lost track halfway through the crowd. It looked like all of Castletown was out – maybe even half of Kakariko. "I bring before you today a young man that most of you know by face, if not by name! He's worked to protect and defend you from your enemies since he was a boy, and he continues to do so today! Others have attempted to keep him from speaking to you – from telling you the truth! – but you have a right to know!" He paused for effect and let his words sink in. A nervous rumble ran through the crowd. "He brings dire news, but I ask you to listen to what he has to say before passing any judgement."

The first of the politician's arsenal was the dramatis personae. The people who would make up your case – because everyone knew that an argument wasn't won with logic and rationality. People didn't vote for options, they voted for other people. Everything was personal in politics, and you had to make it personal. To do that, you needed three different figureheads, each with their own, unique purpose.

The first, was the hero – a figure that people knew, respected, and could love. Someone from among the common ranks, plain, but not too plain. Easy on the eyes and ears, but not strikingly so. Someone simple, trustworthy, and sincere – even if you weren't.

"I give you Liam, Captain of the Guard of Castletown!"

The young man limped forward almost shyly, uncertain of himself and the crowd perhaps, but not of his purpose. Eldrick squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, mindful of the many bandages that still covered the young man's burns and wounds – made sure the people in the crowd could see him do it – and stepped back, offering him an encouraging smile. As Liam turned his face back towards the gathered people, Eldrick could feel their trust. He could feel their readiness to believe him – this young man who looked so much like them, who came from them. He was theirs and this gave him a credibility Eldrick could never hope to have.

"I have … I have grim news," Liam said, nervous in front of the crowd, which frantically shushed itself so they could hear him better. "Agahnim is dead. He—" But he couldn't finish. The crowd reacted with an angry outcry at this simple phrase and Eldrick resisted the urge to smirk. Liam turned a desperate look back on him and he obliged it by stepping forward and raising his hands.

"People! People!" He shouted until the tumult had died down. "There is more! This is not as simple a matter as it first appears! Please hear him out!" The shouts began to die down, but here and there Eldrick could hear the sounds of crying and it took little effort to let his face twist into a sneer. "Don't waste your grief on the Wizard," he called. "Don't weep for him. Weep for the Hyrule he's attempted to steal from you!" Several people called out angrily, defending the old wizard, but Eldrick would have none of it. "You have been fooled!" He cried. "We have all been fooled! We trusted him, we believed in him, we even loved him and he betrayed us! If you will not listen to me, then listen to the Captain! Let him tell you of what Agahnim has done to him!"

The second member required of the dramatis personae was that of the villain. A person who was easy to hate; who could incite raging desires of violence and vengeance in a people; who had wronged the people greatly – whether the wrong is perceived or real. And an advantage for Eldrick was that Agahnim's wrongs were very, very real.

Liam stepped forward again.

"It's true!" He shouted over the tumult. The crowd settled down immediately and turned as one to face him. He held his ground under their stares, finding strength at last in his purpose. Each of his bandages stood out as confirmation of his words. "Agahnim has had … he put me under a spell and has made me help him with his schemes. He's been lying to us since the day he came! He poisoned the King—" a gasp "—kidnapped those girls—" an outraged cry "—and has cast a spell on the Princess, sending her away somewhere!"

An outright riot.

People screamed that Liam was right, that Liam was wrong, that Agahnim was a rat, or else a hero, that the princess was dead, that there was yet hope for her.

Someone, somewhere screamed something about Link and Eldrick seized his chance.

The third, and perhaps most important, of a the dramatis personae is the martyr. Someone who's suffered, or preferably died for the cause. A person whom the people will love in death as they never did in life. A shining symbol of whatever cause you care to ascribe to them, that not even the most silver-tongued politician can take away from the people.

Eldrick wished with all his heart that it could have been someone – anyone – else, but even he had to admit that it was almost too good to be true. He doubted he'd ever find a more perfect martyr, save the Princess herself.

"The Hero of Time has been framed!" He shouted, coming up to stand beside Liam, who had blanched at the sight of the furious crowd. "Agahnim would have you believe that he's turned on us! That our once-saviour has fallen harder than any before him, but it's not true!" The tumult grew louder and Eldrick gave up any hope of being heard.

Not that it mattered.

The second weapon in a politician's arsenal was that of passion. Of fanaticism and love and hate and base lusts. People were creatures of passion; enslaved to it in ways most of them never fully understood. It didn't matter what you made them feel – anger, love, hate, despair, hope – so long as they felt it passionately. Once you had that you were one step away from the politician's strongest, and most dangerous weapon.

"Think about it!" Eldrick cried once he was sure he could be heard again. "Just think about it! How long has the King been sick!" He pause as the crowd murmured uneasily. "Since Agahnim appeared! And who was named Regent in the King's absence? Was it Zelda? The woman who's been trained for that precise position since the day she was born? No! It was Agahnim! When, in the history of Hyrule have we ever allowed an outsider to sit on our throne! Even by proxy! Agahnim has accused Link of kidnapping the princess and the other maidens, but I ask you this: how could Link have done that? He was off with our neighbours on a diplomatic mission at the time, and the witnesses for this are more than you can count. What happened as soon as he left? People starting going missing, because he wasn't here to prevent it. And why wasn't he here? Who sent him off? Agahnim! And why?" He paused and surveyed the crowd who were staring back at him; a sea of narrowed and widened eyes. "Because Link knew the truth about Agahnim. He's known it all along!"

Someone at the back screamed something about treason.

"The only treason that's been committed," Eldrick spat contemptuously, "is that we have sat back for so long and allowed an outsider to infiltrate our government and usurp our throne from it's rightful owners! We've allowed an outsider to poison our minds against those who would seek to save us! We've allowed him to poison us, period! How many of you fought in the Battle of Castletown just three scant years ago! How many of you were freed in the Battle of Castletown? Who led that battle? Who helped the leaders of Hyrule win back our city and our kingdom and our freedom! It wasn't Agahnim. It was Sir Link, a Knight of Hyrule! And Sir Hunter of the Sheikah and Lady Neesha of the Gerudo! Both Knights in their own right! And Agahnim convinced us that they were the enemy. I don't know how he did it, I don't know what black magic he used, but we believed him, didn't we?" The crowd murmured an assent. "When he told us that he would lead us to a new age of peace and prosperity we believed him didn't we!" Again, assent, louder. "And now that he's dead and his shadow has been lifted from eyes, do we have it! Do we have the peace we've longed for?"

"NO!" Shouted the crowd. This much, at least, was obvious to them. For the last few months there had been little resembling peace in the Kingdom. Eldrick pressed home his points on things he knew they would agree on. The seeds of doubt had been planted on the controversial issues. It was time to unite this rabble into a force to be reckoned with.

"And now his supporters seek to fill the void he's left on the throne of Hyrule! These treasonous dogs would rule Hyrule themselves! Will we allow it!"

"NO!"

Arguably the most powerful, and obviously the most dangerous, tool of any politicians arsenal, however, is the mob. A mass of individuals formed by base passion into a single entity, with the force of will and of arms to at the very least shake the throne of even the greatest tyrants, if not topple it completely.

Or, in this case, preserve it against all who would claim it as their own.

"Princess Zelda is alive!" He shouted, gesturing angrily. "She's been stolen from us, from right under our noses, and they think that we'll just let them get away with this! Will we ever allow anyone but a Hyrule on our throne! Will we recognize anyone but the Princess Zelda Hyrule as our lawful and rightful leader!"

"NO!" Shouted the crowd, in a frenzy now.

It only required one last thing to fan the flames into an inferno. One last piece to unite the divided people into a unified force no matter what controversies may lay between them. They needed a battle-cry, and Eldrick knew just the one.

"The King is dead!" Eldrick shouted, loosing all the passion and righteous anger he could muster into his shout. "Long live Queen Zelda!"

The crowd answered him as one, and the youngest son of the House of Eldrick at last allowed himself to smirk.

xxx

"Absolutely not," he said, glaring flatly at Darunia. "With all due respect, Big Brother, you're overstepping your bounds here."

"Daddy!" Bel hissed. "You're being unreasonable!"

"Unreasonable!" He cried. "Is it unreasonable to prefer my only children alive and safe in Summerfell as opposed to running around on the front lines?"

"We're not children!" Mel cried. "We've passed our Quisros—"

"With flying colours," Bel added.

"—and we have just as much right to fight in this war as you do!"

"No, as a matter of fact you do not," he growled. "Perhaps you weren't paying attention during your trial, but you two are no longer considered Sheikah. You have no more right to participate in this war than—"

"Fine," Bel growled, "so we're not Sheikah."

"Doesn't matter," Mel said, "because that just means we don't have to fight for you."

"We're free agents," Bel clarified.

"You're rebels," their father countered. "Exiles. You're not even supposed to be in Hyrule."

"Well we can't leave Hyrule because of the Moblins."

"Yeah, we're just going to … maybe speed things up a bit. The more Moblins we kill, the easier for us to actually fulfill the terms of our Exile and leave."

"Cut the sophistry, girls. I said no and I meant—"

"You're not listening!" Mel exploded. "We don't care if you say no!"

"Daddy, we love you, but you can't boss us around anymore. We've passed our Quisros, we're not kids anymore."

"We're exiled, so we're not Sheikah anymore."

"You can't stop us from joining whoever we want to anymore than you could stop a Hylian. You haven't got any power over us."

"I love you," he responded flatly. "And I'm still your father. That's power enough. I thought you two wanted to go visit your mother. Din knows she's been nagging me since she heard you were back to send you down to see her."

"This isn't about you and Mum," Bel said flatly.

"This is about Bel and me," said Mel.

"And Mel and me are going to be fighting for Hyrule until they can send us away."

"If the Sheikah won't have us, we'll fight with whoever will."

"Hyrule's not about race, anyway. Isn't that what the last war was about?"

"Isn't that what we were supposed to learn?"

"This is a serious breach of protocol!" Their father exploded. "This is illegal! You can't—"

"Daddy, we're going!" Bel shouted.

"If you won't let us we'll leave anyway! You can't stop us!" Their father ground his teeth for a long moment.

"Listen to me, girls," he said in a dangerously quiet voice, "the Council went easy on you, do you understand that? They could have had you killed – you have no idea … you can't possibly understand how lucky you are. Maybe, in a few years, if you just behave yourselves we can bring the issue up again. Maybe we'll be able to convince them too—"

"Daddy, we kidnapped a Princess of Hyrule and handed her over to her enemies," Bel said flatly.

"Yes we were lucky," Mel said, "but you know as well as we do that there will be no second chances unless we do something equally as drastic as what got us into this mess in the first place."

"I'll tell Impa," he said flatly.

"Tattle-tale," Bel accused.

"Go ahead," Mel said. "She'll know soon enough anyway, but she can't stop us either."

"You know you don't want to give us up to Mum," Bel said slyly. "We have a hard enough time talking you into giving us up long enough to visit her."

"You must be livid at the thought of having to switch places with her."

"I thought this wasn't about your mother and I," he said wryly. "And your mother has just as much right to you two as I do."

"If you can use her against us, we can use her against you."

"Your mother would not approve of this course of action," he said flatly. "We may not agree on much, but I know we'd agree on that."

"All the arguments we've used against you apply to her as well," Bel said in a bored tone.

"Do we really have to go over them again?"

Their father slouched forward in his seat and buried his face in his hands for a long moment. Bel and Mel said nothing, sensing that he was finally making his decision. Whatever came out of this would be his final position on the issue – it always was.

Please say yes, Bel thought to herself. Don't make us defy you …

Everyone else already hates us, Mel though. Don't make us drive you that far too …

"You've got two hours," he said at last, his voice thick and dead. "Two hours to get the Hell out of here to wherever it is you're going. Then I'm going to Impa." He looked up at Darunia, who had wisely decided to remain silent the entire time and narrowed his eyes. "She'll come looking for you."

"I can handle the Sage of Shadow," Darunia said. He met their father's eyes with his own and hoped the man could see the sympathy there.

It was hard letting your kids get themselves into dangerous situations …

It was hard not knowing what would happen to them, or if you'd ever see them again …

But it was hardest of all knowing that you can't stop them, and you can't help them, and no matter how much you love them, push come to shove, they're on their own, just like everyone else.

All you can do, is let them go, and pray with every fibre of your being that you've somehow managed to teach them what they need to know, not only to survive, but to triumph in the end.

xxx

"You've got ten seconds to tell me you can do this, old man, or I'm loading up the Elite and there are going to be a lot of dead Hylians in Castletown."

"Nabooru," Impa said disapprovingly, but Nabooru ignored her and kept her attention fixed on Sahasrahla. The old man remained unruffled.

"Magic like this isn't a simple matter," he responded calmly. "Given world enough and time, I could do it for sure."

"Given Rue, Thomas, and 24 hours?" Nabooru demanded. Sahasrahla raised an eyebrow.

"A combat-mage, an untested apprentice and a day?" He asked. "Do you have any idea the kind of power that would require? I would need runes, material components, divine intervention …"

"Fine. Follow me." She got up and left the room without waiting for a response. Sahasrahla muttered to himself as he got to his feet and he, Impa and Thomas followed Nabooru out the door. His complaints died on his lips, however, when the finally got to where they were going and Nabooru shoved the huge door open.

"Oh my," he said. "So this is where it's been coming from." Thomas shifted his weight nervously.

"This looks like Agahnim's study," he whispered. "Only … worse, somehow."

"It's Ganondorf's," Nabooru said, an odd, dark note in her voice. "It's forbidden to everyone in the fortress but myself, Rue, and Link. Link wants nothing to do with the place. He won't even come down this corridor unless he has to. Rue and I have tried to … to cleanse it I guess, but it's just no good. If you want power, old man, this is where you'll find it."

He stepped cautiously into the room, but held up a hand when the others tried to follow him.

"No," he said. " "Just in case. You are right to forbid access to this room. There is … danger in here. Powerful black magic has been preformed in this room. It has left its mark." He took a moment to peer around, taking a mental inventory of the things he could see, his face as hard as stone. "Has Rue ever gone through these things?"

"Most of them are the tools of black magic and Rue refuses to deal in that," Nabooru said, sounding as though he had offended her with the suggestion that Rue would do otherwise. "And he may be king no longer, but Ganondorf was a Gerudo thing. You do not go through a Gerudo King's personal belongings. Especially not Ganondorf's," she added, quieter.

"Not all of it is black," he murmured, closing his eyes. "Most of it is, of course … or is at the least tainted by his magic … but some of it … perhaps I could …" He chanted a short phrase and raised his hand, leaving his eyes shut. He held his hand close to the shelves and slowly began to walk around the room, pausing every now and then to hover with his hand over something before moving on.

"Impa?" Thomas said quietly, pulling his eyes from the old mage. The Sage of Shadow turned to face him and looked at him expectantly. Thomas hesitated briefly. "Um … what are we doing? Why am I here?"

"Nabooru didn't tell you?" Impa asked, shifting her eyes over to the Sage of Spirit, who was watching Sahasrahla like a hawk.

"Uh … no," Thomas said. "She just kind of … appropriated me." Impa sighed.

"I'm sorry, Thomas. Her mind is elsewhere. She is … we are concerned about Link," Impa explained. "And, perhaps more importantly, about what is going to happen if we do not find out what happened to Link."

"You mean what the Gerudo are going to do if we don't find out what happened."

"Precisely," Impa said. "Their King is missing. For all intents and purposes, it sounds as though he is dead. It sounds as though Agahnim simply knew he was dying and so disintegrated them both through magic. Such things are possible, if unlikely. I'm sure you understand enough of their people and their culture to realize the logical reaction they will have to this." Thomas winced.

"Uh, yeah," he said. "yeah, I'm pretty sure I do. You don't think he's actually dead, though, do you?" He looked concerned and Impa laid a hand on his shoulder.

"No, Thomas, I do not," she said. "If he was dead I would know. He is far too connected to the Sacred Realm and the Sages and the Triforce for his death to pass unnoticed by us. And this gives us hope."

"So … we're hoping that Sahasrahla will be able to find him for us?"

"We're hoping that Sahasrahla, Rue, and yourself will be able to not only find, but speak with him, wherever he is. It will take a direct order from Link to completely appease the Gerudo. Until we can get it, Nabooru can do little but stall, and her people are not a patient people."

"What do I have to do with it?" Thomas asked, looking surprised.

"You," said Sahasrahla from behind them, coming back out of the room at last, "are an essential ingredient in the locator spell I would like to try." Thomas and Impa turned to face the old Wiseman. In a crinkled hand he clutched a small, perfectly smooth green stone, shot through with flecks of gold. "Because of the complications involved in contacting someone in a world sealed off from our own, it will require three mages, in addition to requiring something close to the caster of the original sending, something close to the thing you are trying to locate, and something close to the place you suspect they were sent. Sometimes you can get away with only some of these requirements, but as I've said, what we are talking about is a complicated thing and I wouldn't risk going any less." Thomas' face took on the grey tinge it usually did when thinking about his time under Agahnim.

"I wasn't there when Link fought Agahnim," he said. "I—"

"Ah, ah, ah, my dear boy," said Sahasrahla. "I said someone close to the original caster. You spent more than enough time as Agahnim's right-hand-man to suffice for this purpose."

"Will Rue be the one close to Link?" Nabooru asked. Sahasrahla shook his head sadly.

"No," he said, "if Link is in fact trapped in the Dark World, then I fear we will not be able to locate him through this type of spell. Not yet, at any rate. Link – like almost everyone in the Dark World – is under far greater magical duress than you realize, and I would never be able to pierce that shell." Nabooru's face darkened.

"What are you talking about?" She demanded. "You told me you could find Link! What's this load of bull about not being able to—"

"He's right, Nabooru," Impa said softly, almost sadly. Nabooru stopped mid-rant and turned to look at her. The Sage of Shadow had a rare, far-away look in her eyes. "We've … I've tried it before. There's no … you can't pinpoint anything in there. There's so much magical energy … even if you could get through the Seals we've put up …" She closed her eyes and shook her head suddenly and came back to herself, immediately putting her Sheikah face back up.

"The, uh … the Sage of Shadow is correct," Sahasrahla said, drawing the confused gazes away from Impa, "except that she said 'anything' when she should have said 'any one.' Any person who goes in there is immediately put under the plane's spell – a spell on which my own knowledge is woefully ignorant, unfortunately – and it becomes impossible to make them the target of other spells. However certain items could perhaps be tracked. If they had certain qualities…"

"What qualities?" Nabooru demanded impatiently "We haven't time for your dithering, old man. If you can do something for us then spit it out. We have a war to wage."

"If the item was a sacred thing – if it had something to do with the old Sacred Realm, or even the new Dark World. Then, perhaps, it would be immune to the magical effects of the Dark World and we could locate it."

"Well what good is—"

"And item, for example, like my magic mirror."

"But you gave that to—" Thomas' voice trailed off and he blinked in realization. "Oh," he said. "Oh, I get it."

"Get what?" Nabooru growled.

"I gave my mirror to Link," Sahasrahla explained. "I asked him to carry it with him. Once upon a time it would have been extraordinarily useful to someone in his position, before I unfortunately misplaced the Moon Pearl once set in it. It has very strong ties to the Sacred Realm, it was created in and of that place and it's powers are related – or were. It's essentially not much more useful than a very perceptive, brutally honest mirror right now but I thought, perhaps, he might find a use for it. And I believe we now have."

"You can track the mirror," Impa said, nodding slowly.

"Precisely."

"What if Link doesn't have it anymore?" Thomas asked.

"Oh he'll have it," Nabooru said, a crafty look in her eyes as she considered this. "He's a damn packrat. Never throws anything away, and with that blasted bottomless pouch of his he never really has to. The worst he'd do is shove it in there and forget he ever owned it." Sahasrahla looked momentarily scandalized.

"It's an artefact of immense power. You don't just forget—"

"Sahasrahla," Impa interrupted wearily, "we're talking about a boy who doesn't own much except artefacts of immense power. For Link, rare, impressive, awe-inspiring magic items are a mundane thing with which he interacts on a daily basis. He is far more impressed with simple things than with the impressive. I assure you, he is quite capable of forgetting he owns an artefact of immense power." Sahasrahla rubbed his head ruefully.

"He is certainly an … interesting Hero," he murmured. "But come, time is wasting. Let's find Rue and get down to some magic. The spell will take an hour or two to prepare."

"Um," Thomas piped up, "you all know I'm not really a mage, right?" He winced when they all turned to look at him. "I mean, I wasn't really Agahnim's apprentice. He was just kind of … well, he was using me, remember? And all the other stuff I did … it wasn't really me, it was him."

"Agahnim would have had a much harder time using you as he did without some kind of talent running in you," Sahasrahla said kindly. "You've got the ability to work with magic, Thomas, and that's all we need for this. Just the talent. Rue and I have more than enough skill and experience to compensate." Thomas gave an uncertain nod and prayed the old man knew what he was talking about.

He wasn't quite sure he wanted to be anywhere near Nabooru if this didn't work …

"Then get on with it," Nabooru said impatiently. "I'll find Rue. Impa can take you to the room you asked for. We're running out of time." And she was gone as fast as that.

"You know," Sahasrahla observed, "I've lived more than my fair share of lifetimes, and it never ceases to amaze me how much things change. But the Gerudo … the Gerudo never really do."

"That," Impa said with a mild smile, "was before Link. The changes are subtle, but they are there." Sahasrahla raised an eyebrow. "For example," Impa said, "two Sheikah and a much disliked old man are wandering freely through Gerudo halls without an escort."

"And very much alive," Thomas added with a fervent nod. "Don't forget that." Sahasrahla blinked and laughed.

"I suppose it's true at that," he said. "But come, show me this room. I'd like to continue being very much alive if you take my meaning…."

The room itself was a simple thing. It was just a square shape and had been cleared out of all furniture and anything else that may have once been in there. No windows were visible on the walls. Sahasrahla hummed and hawed over it for a minute then sighed and started to roll up his sleeves.

"It'll have to do," he said. "Come on, son, let's get to work. How much did that old fogey teach you about runes?"

"Rune are symbols of power, drawn for the sake of guiding the magic along the channels required for the spell to work," Thomas said in a tone of voice that suggested he was quoting. "Different shapes can produce different effects, and some have more power than others."

"Good," said Sahasrahla. "Do you know much about the symbols available? The major ones, at any rate, as there are many." Thomas hesitated. "Come on, lad, spit it out," said Sahasrahla.

"I know a few of the shapes," Thomas said. "None of the complicated ones, just some of the basic ones. I know that the pentangle is one of the most powerful."

"Now that," said Sahasrahla, "is where he began to mislead you." Thomas fell silent and watched the old man expectantly. "A pentacle is a powerful symbol, he did not lie to you there. It's a symbol of infinity, among other things, and using it you can weave very powerful spells. But its weakness lies in its connection to the arcane instead of the divine. Some people don't see this as a weakness, of course, and it's not any kind of tangible weakness, merely a philosophical one. However sometimes a philosophical weakness is the most vulnerable of all."

"But … if not the pentangle …"

"Think, lad," Sahasrahla said. "What is the one symbol that could possible grant you greater power than the pentangle? The one Agahnim never taught you because he can't use it for his black magic." Thomas frowned in frustration.

"But if he never taught it to me, how am I supposed to…," he blinked. "You don't mean … it's not the triangle, is it?" Sahasrahla beamed at him.

"Good show, lad!" He said. "That's correct! All of the most powerful things in our world come in threes – three goddess, three Triforce pieces, three Sacred Jewels. The triangle represents this, consisting, as it does, of three threes – three lines, three angles, three points. Even the Triforce itself is three triangles united to form a larger triangle. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"Sort of," Thomas said.

"Look at it this way: in the triangle, there is no room for anything but threes. It remains the perfect union of three threes. The pentangle, however, lacks this perfection. In adding to the three threes, it has managed to get itself, at most, four fives – five points, five angles, five lines, five intersections. It's unbalanced because it has taken into account elements besides the divine. The addition of two points into the symbol – points which can represent things that are earthly instead of divine, such as the self, or the caster's personal power – ruins the perfection of the whole symbol."

"You're saying it's bad to rely on your own power?" Thomas asked, eyebrows drawn down in a frown as he attempted to follow the complicated lesson.

"No," Sahasrahla said simply. "A part of magic is the fact that it comes from within, not from without. Whatever power a mage is granted is his and his alone. He is not tapping into some larger force as some have hypothesized. He is merely using what power exists within himself, and that is perfectly acceptable, and even admirable – but that power did not get there by itself. Magic is a gift from the Goddesses, after all. Sometimes it helps to tap directly into that in your spell weaving. If your magic came from the Goddesses, you may be better off allowing yourself to act as a conduit for their will, and this is where the triangle comes in."

"But … the Goddesses are gone. They've left the world, haven't they? That's what the Triforce is about."

"Perhaps," said Sahasrahla with a twinkle in his eye, "or perhaps that's just what they want you to think."

"What nonsense are you feeding the boy now?" Demanded a sour voice from behind them.

"My darling Rue, how pleasant it is to see you again!" Sahasrahla said, turning around. "You're just in time. Tell me, what do you feel is the most powerful of the magical runes?"

"The pentangle for raw power," Rue answered without hesitation. "Unless you are attempting something beyond your own power. Then you have no choice but to call on the Goddesses and should use the Triangle. Which, for the record, I believe this situation would fall under. I sincerely hope you weren't planning on a pentangle spell weave." She crossed her arms. "Also, I would like to state here and now that short of divine intervention what you are proposing is impossible." Her wrinkled face was not unlike a thunder cloud when you got right down to it, and Thomas was floored by Sahasrahla's ability to remain unfazed under her dark glower. She lowered her voice so that only Sahasrahla could hear it, but Thomas was close enough to pick up most of it. "And you'd better pray for divine intervention, old man, because I won't be the one to explain to Nabooru that what you've promised her can't be done."

"And that, m'dear, is why we're using the triangle," Sahasrahla said smoothly. "No better plea for divine intervention unless its prayer. Now, quickly, the sooner we get this done the better. Thomas will be acting as a conduit only, unfortunately. We haven't time to teach him the spell." He held out the little green rock he'd taken from Ganondorf's room. "You'll be our connection to the place. I am reasonably certain this little stone comes from there originally. It is, at least, the least tainted of the things I am reasonably certain came from there." Rue took the stone distrustfully, almost superstitiously. Thomas supposed he couldn't blame her. "You know the process involved in a locator spell, correct?" Rue gave him a scathing glance that said all it needed to. He took this in stride, as he did everything else, and moved over to one corner of the room.

"All right then," he said, "let's begin…"

xxx

Chapter 15 (cont.)

There used to be, deep down inside me, a place where I could go when things seemed hopeless and I would find strength there. A place right at the centre of me where the will to keep going came from. My heart of hearts you could say. I went there in a very real sense, once … seems like forever ago now. Sometimes I wonder if it was a dream, or if it was as real as it felt, or if it matters.

Sometimes, like now, it seems so far away I can barely remember it.

I can't even access it.

That deep-down part of me has disappeared. I can't find it. I can't draw off of it.

For the first time in my life, there is nothing inside me that's keeping me from turning tail and running hell-for-leather away from this place and this monster and this fight.

Nothing, of course, except the despairing thought that it's no better back where I came from. I'll just be running from one monster's gut, straight into another's maw.

There's no escaping it. There's no escaping this place. You don't have a choice between life and death, here. You're dead the instant you cross over. All you get to choose is where and when – if you're lucky.

If you're lucky.

And I have this sneaking suspicion that my luck comes from that part of me I can't access anymore.

We've been standing here for the last five minutes while I tremble and panic and try to get my head together. We're huddled behind a large chunk of wall that's still mostly intact – the rest of the structure of this part of the building haven't been torn down by the violent thing contained within it long ago. The Maeasm – with a capital "M" because anything that big deserves a capital – is asleep in the area behind our little wall. Anduriel assures me that it won't stay asleep for long, however, and I'm willing to bet any money that the damn thing's a light sleeper.

Anduriel is quiet, but she's giving me that look – that it's-not-you-it's-this-place-you-have-to-fight-it look, but it's not that easy.

Whether what I'm feeling is real, or just a figment manufactured by this goddess forsaken Hell doesn't matter. The fact remains I'm feeling it.

There's this solid, unbending certainty that I'm about to die banging around inside my brain. I'm intuitive enough to know that Anduriel is right – that this feeling isn't mine – but I can't escape it anyway. I'm going to die, it tells me, unless I run away right now and never come back. Maybe I can eek out an existence somehow. I can't be the only person here, I know I'm not. Maybe others have tried to live here, knowing they can't go back. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

There's a stirring in the room behind me – a massive rumbling as the monster rolls over and sighs in its sleep. My heart skips a beat in a sudden panic at the motion and the noise and I close my eyes tightly.

I haven't been this scared since I had to stand in line with the Moblins and watch Dark Link murder all those people in front of Zelda at Lon Lon Ranch years ago. I didn't even have my memories back then, how was I supposed to stand up under that? I was just a nobody-17-year-old-kid who'd gotten in over his head and once again overestimated his own abilities. And now who am I? I'm a somebody-21-year-old-man-who-wishes-he-was-a-nobody-17-year-old-kid-facing-down-Moblins-instead-of-giant-Maeasms.

I don't like this, I decide vehemently. I don't like this feeling. I don't like being afraid. I'm not used to it. Not like this.

This isn't fear, it's cowardice.

I'm being a coward.

This place is turning me into the one thing I thought I'd never be.

I'm the bearer of the Triforce of Courage, for Nayru's sake, it's not supposed to be like this!

I flex my hand, acutely aware of the glittering golden mark beneath my glove.

Come on, I snarl at it. Come on, you bastard. Work for me. I've carried you this long, prove to me it was worth it. It's your fault I'm here. It's your fault this place is such a mess. It's your fault that Anduriel's blind, and Kiki's a monkey, and I'm a goddess-damned monster. Make up for it. Call off your thrice damned Dark World and let me be me again. Or at least take the choice away. Don't let me run. Don't let me give into this. I need to rescue Laruto, I need to fight that monster, but I can't. I can't make myself do it. Make me do it. Force my hand.

Make me be the Hero of Time again …

And suddenly, my hand burns…

xxx

A Brief Interlude

Nabooru chewed absently at her lower lip as she stared at the three people sitting in a triangle on the floor, legs folded beneath them, ostensibly staring out at nothing. They'd been like this for the last hour. Every so often they'd gasp and come out of it, Rue would mutter an oath and they'd begin the spell again.

Nabooru knew she should just leave them to it, but she hadn't been able to make herself leave. This was important. They had to know where Link was. If he was even okay. If they could confirm he was alive, it would keep the Elite sane for now. They'd know he'd disapprove of attacking Castletown and it might buy them some time to fend off the Moblins …

Impa was right about one thing; they couldn't afford a war on two fronts.

And Nabooru didn't want the Gerudo getting blamed for another Great War.

So instead she'd switched the hall outside the room to a temporary command centre. When the Elite had reports or needed orders, they came to her here as they organized the defences. They were rapidly running out of time before the Moblins began their assaults. Scouting parties had reported the Moblin forces growing steadily still, and they had enough gathered now to begin organizing themselves. It wouldn't be long …

She shook her head and forced herself to look away from the mages (and one apprentice, she added to herself). She was going to chew her lip right off at this rate and that was the last thing she needed. She'd need her mouth intact to scream at Link if they actually managed to make contact. She opened her mouth to say something to Impa, but whatever it had been flew from her brain and she blinked instead. The Sage of Shadow had that far-away look again as she watched the spell going on in front of them. Nabooru raised an eyebrow then turned back to the spell, recalling what Impa had said the last time she'd had that look in her eyes …

She knew what Impa would think of her curiosity. Impa would tell her it was none of her business, that's what Impa would say.

But then … she was a thief … and she had a particular affinity for things that weren't hers.

"So," she said nonchalantly – too nonchalantly. Impa immediately straightened and looked over at her, fixing her trademark piercing gaze on the younger woman. Nabooru remained undaunted and refused to return the gaze. "I suppose then the reason why you're so familiar with the ins and outs of contacting someone in the Dark World has to do with why it was Hunter who was captured and not you, hmm?" There was a pause that, though it only lasted a split second, was far too long for an Impa-pause.

"It was a long time ago," she replied crisply, in the it's-none-of-your-business tone that dominated about a quarter of all conversations between the two Sages, "and I do not consider it an issue today. Perhaps you should keep your mind on the situation at hand."

"If you've tried this before," Nabooru said, her eyes glinting craftily, "this has to do with the situation at hand. If you know someone in the Dark World, this has to do with the situation at hand. Maybe Link could get in touch with them – if he's got an ally in there already, he deserves to know." Impa was unconvinced.

"Nabooru," Impa said softly, "you've felt the Dark World, hovering on the edges of your awareness, pressing in on all sides when we're in the Sacred Realm. You tell me if anything in there will be an ally for Link." Nabooru decided she didn't really want to think about that at the moment, and changed tactics.

"This is hardly the time for secrets, Impa. The Moblins are beating down the door, and our Hero is trapped in a literally goddess-forsaken plane. If you know anything about the Dark World, we should hear it."

"All I know is what you know," Impa returned, her voice colder than ever. "Once upon a time it was the Sacred Realm. It was where your soul went to await reincarnation after you died. It was a golden realm and a wonderful place. Then Ganondorf happened, and suddenly it wasn't so golden. What goes in, doesn't come out again. I know you lost Sisters to the damnable place on the quest for the Triforce, I know Ganondorf dragged even more in there against their will. Suffice it to say that the Sheikah lost people too. We did what we could to contact them, but it was as Sahasrahla has said. We tried, we grieved, we moved on."

"You lost someone, you tried to contact him, you grieved his loss, and you moved on," Nabooru said simply, raising an eyebrow. "Don't tell me it was the Sheikah in general. It's written on your spirit." She gave the older woman a significant look. "And I am the Sage of Spirit."

"It's none of your business, Nabooru," Impa said flatly. "It's an old wound, nothing more."

"Hmm," Nabooru said, "but sometimes they hurt the worst, don't they?"

"Is there a reason you won't let this drop?" Impa demanded, her irritation showing through on her face at last. Nabooru gave her a look that was part-sulky-part-annoyed.

"I can't help it," she grumbled. "Ever since all this talk of the Dark World started up it's revived whatever this 'old wound' of yours is and it's a strong one. Every time I'm near you I can taste it. Sage of Shadow, you may be, Impa, but there are some things even you can't hide. Not from me." She met the older woman's gaze without flinching until at last Impa shook her head and turned her face back to the spell casters.

"Fine," she said simply. "His name was … Dashil. He was a Chosen Sheikah, like me. We joined at the same time – met when we were taking the tests required before you can join as a Chosen. We were both very young at the time, and we found a connection, I suppose you could call it, in our newness. The Sheikah care little for the differences between a Blood and a Chosen, except in certain circumstances, but we were still new and we found strength in each other. We trained together and were often sent on missions together. Our specialties complemented each other quite nicely. I've always had a knack for invisibility, but where I could blend into the shadows, Dashil could blend into the crowd. He was the best disguise artist I've ever seen, in all my years training Sheikah. Half the time I couldn't even recognize him and he and I were … well, we were very close."

"You were lovers," Nabooru said bluntly, never one for beating around the bush. There was a pause.

"Eventually," Impa admitted.

"What happened?" Impa sighed heavily.

"We got wind finally that what Ganondorf was after was the Triforce. Dashil started obsessing over finding it first. Lost himself in his research, reading the prophecies and old texts. He eventually located one of the portals and found the way to activate it. He wanted me to go with him, but I had been offered the leadership of the Sheikah by that point, and I knew where my duties lay."

"And Dashil didn't," Nabooru finished.

"Dashil always worked off of his own definition of duty," Impa said, her lips turned down at the corners into the barest of frowns. "His methods were often … questionable. I didn't care at the time because I was young and in love, but …" She left the sentence hanging.

"So what happened then?" Nabooru asked. Impa gave a small shrug.

"Who knows?" She said. "He left for the portal. Activated it, entered it, and that was the last we heard of him. It wasn't long after that Ganondorf found his own way in, and, well … we all know who got to the Triforce first." There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the sound of Rue's soft oath as they came out of the spell again and once more immediately set to recasting it.

"When you started this story," Nabooru said quietly, "when you told me his name, you hesitated. Why?"

"Must you pick at everything?" Impa demanded. Nabooru made a face at her.

"If I am going to be tasting this wound of yours for the rest of our lives, I would at least like to know what I am eating." Impa made a disgruntled noise.

"Fine," she said tersely. "I hesitated because Dashil is his name, but I never called him that. I'm so used to his other name, that it took me a moment to remember his real name."

"What was his other name?" Nabooru asked. Impa hesitated for so long that Nabooru wondered if she was even going to answer, but finally she turned to the Sage of Spirit with a determined look on her face.

"I called him Bli—" But whatever the rest of his name was, Nabooru wasn't given the chance to find out. Before Impa could finish pronouncing it, something in the room exploded … without any sound. Impa and Nabooru were thrown backwards by an unseen force. Nabooru just managed to keep her head from bouncing off the wall (though the same couldn't be said of the rest of her), and didn't take the time to see how Impa had fared. Instead, she ripped herself in a circle to stare at the centre of the room, feet already spread in a battle stance, just in case.

But there was no enemy in the middle of the room. Instead there hovered a hazy, gold-tinged transparent vision of a small hand mirror.

"That's it!" Said Thomas excitedly. "I recognize it!"

"Careful, boy, don't lose your concentration," Rue said tensely. "I have no idea why it worked this time and I don't want to lose it now…"

"Why is it black?" Nabooru asked. "The glass is black."

"What we're seeing is a weak image of the mirror itself," Sahasrahla said, his eyes trained on the image. "Including its reflection. If it's black, it may mean that it is still in Link's pouch."

"Will we be able to speak with Link if he takes it out?" Impa asked, relieved more than she cared to admit that this latest development had finally gotten Nabooru off of her back.

"I doubt it," Sahasrahla said tersely. "I'm more than impressed we're getting as much as we are. Without the Moon Pearl we should technically only be getting a vague impression of location, little else … something is tapping into the Mirror's other powers … at least partially…"

"But what if—" Nabooru cut herself off as the image in the mirror's surface suddenly and violently shifted fast enough to give her a headache trying to keep up with it. She clenched her fists at the sight of a flash of green and a familiar pouch, but the next instant she was staring at an unfamiliar, and wholly alien face. Sahasrahla, on the other hand, appeared to recognize it.

"Anduriel," he gasped. "Is he the one…?"

"That's a he?" Thomas demanded. Whatever it was, it was making frantic negating gestures at the mirror.

"What does it want?" Impa murmured. "Should we cut off the spell?" But the next instant the scene shifted dizzyingly again as dust and rubble exploded into the scene and the angle tilted violently as the creature apparently dropped the mirror. They were looking up at a high stone ceiling for about two seconds before something huge and black blocked their site for a moment as it passed above the reflection.

"Cut off the spell," Nabooru hissed. "We're putting them in danger! Cut off the spell!"

"We have," Rue said with a dark frown as she pushed herself to her knees. "It wasn't our spell apparently."

"Then whose—" Again Nabooru cut herself off. The black thing had passed over the mirror and had been replaced with a frightened, bestial face that looked vaguely simian.

"What the Hell…"

The little monkey-like thing snatched up the mirror, causing the reflection shift again as the creature holding it scampered frantically over to a pile of rubble. For a moment all they could see was the piece of stone.

"Lift it higher," Thomas breathed. "We can't see…" The reflection didn't move higher, but it did shift to the side a bit, giving over three quarters of the surface to the battle taking place beyond the monkey's hiding place.

"Nayru, Farore and Din," Nabooru swore, staring in horror at the scene playing out in the reflection, "whoever they are, they're dead…"

"A maeasm," Impa breathed, her eyes wide. "They're supposed to be extinct!"

"Don't look at me!" Nabooru cried. "It's not like we stashed it in the Dark World! And besides, that thing's the size of a house! Maeasm don't get that big!"

"Tell that to him," Thomas murmured. "What's on its face? Is that … a mask?" It was. A large blue mask, with slits for it's beady red eyes was perched on the monster's face.

"Where's Link?" Rue demanded. "I thought I saw… there!" The Hero of Time darted between the things legs, clutching what looked suspiciously like a bomb with a lit fuse. He twisted at the last possible second, screamed something they couldn't hear, and threw the bomb towards the Maeasm's head.

"He's alive," Nabooru breathed.

"Not for long," Impa said darkly. The bomb did nothing more than chip the mask decorating the Maeasm's head, and the thing turned on Link with a speed that belied its size. Link turned tail and bolted towards the mirror's location. He threw himself forward just as the Maeasm's tail slammed down into the ground where he had been. He hit the ground hard right in front of the mirror and covered his head with his hands, as though the futile gesture could somehow protect him from the stinger, already being raised once again to strike him down, but the next minute the creature they had first seen in the mirror had thrown itself at the thing's mask, leaping the impossible distance from the ground, fists ablaze in light.

"Oh Nayru," Sahasrahla said in a torn voice, "your wings … oh Anduriel, what's happened to you?"

"What is it?" Thomas asked. "Who is it?"

"It's a Makani," Sahasrahla said. Impa blinked.

"A Sentinel?" She asked, but any answer was lost as Link finally turned to face the mirror fully on his way back up to his feet. More than one person gave a sharp intake of breath.

The Hero of Time looked positively ragged. He was dangerously pale and his normally bright blue eyes has a dull, miserable quality to them. His tunic was scorched in some places and torn in others, and in more than one spot they could see bandages peeking through. Lines had appeared under his eyes, complete with dark circles and he looked as though he hadn't slept in weeks. Where once the lines of his body had radiated defiant enthusiasm, now he looked like he was just barely hanging on.

"He's not even been gone two days yet," Nabooru whispered. "How could—"

"Two days in Hell," Rue said darkly, "is long enough."

xxx

Chapter 15 (cont.)

I suppose I should take some level of comfort in the fact that even if I can't access my heart of hearts any more, and even if I'm trapped in Hell with a purple monkey for a best friend, and even if I'm once again fighting for my life against a beast right out of my nightmares, the Goddesses still love me as much as they always have.

Even if everything else changes, that never will.

I like how they think they're funny.

I'm busting a gut, here, girls. Really I am.

One minute, I'm lost in an internal monologue that's starting to make suicide look more and more like a viable option, and the next Anduriel is having a panic attack and violently relieving me of my mirror as though she's gone insane and starts hissing and shaking her head at it in some desperate attempt to do I-don't-know-what, but I bet you any money the burning in my hand had something to do with it.

Next thing I know the wall I'm hiding behind is no longer a wall so much as it's a pile of rubble, and I'm no longer trying to work myself up to fighting the giant, crazy Maeasm so much as I am fighting the giant, crazy Maeasm, and Anduriel is still screaming at Kiki something about the mirror, as though it matters at this point more than the thing that is currently trying to murder us.

Something happened there, I still don't know what, but I know – I just know – the goddesses are yukking it up over it right now.

Well I hope they like gratuitous violence because I'm about to be splattered all over the wall.

"Goddess dammit," I hiss, throwing myself to the side to dodge yet another slam of the giant stinger. I pull a bomb out of my pouch as I go and light the fuse.

Gotta get that mask off.

"Anduriel! Look sharp!" I call as I throw the bomb as hard as I can. She's balanced up on top of the thing's neck, occasionally trying to beat the living daylights out of the mask with her fists (which are, for some reason, glowing) when she's not trying to keep her balance. She reaches up and snatches the bomb out of the air, wedging it behind its mask and leaping off. "The stinger! Watch out!" I cry. It's no good … not even she's fast enough to avoid it …

But my worry proves unnecessary. Before the stinger even gets close the bomb goes off, sending a chunk of mask flying through the air and crashing somewhere behind me. The explosion sets the Maeasm off balance and it's stinger slams into the ground far wide of its intended target. I breath a sigh of relief and throw myself towards it, hoping to duck and weave my way under its legs before it recovers its stinger.

It gives an angry, insectile screech that staggers me with its volume for a moment when it realizes that its targets have disappeared on it: Anduriel's once again perched on it's mask, above its eyes, and I'm dancing the tango of death with its legs as it skitters back and forth trying to find one of us. I pull another bomb out of my pouch as I dodge and twist and scramble to keep myself beneath it without getting stepped on. I briefly consider trying to hack at it with my sword, but Anduriel's right …

… from what I can see there's no way I'd get through the carapace on the damn thing. Even it's legs are covered in armour.

Din, I hate bug monsters.

Why couldn't it have been like … a giant leever, you know? At least that way, if I actually managed to kill it (a laughable prospect as I will be the first to admit I am the single, worst leever hunter at the fortress) the girls back home would have to love me, since I'd essentially have brought them enough damn plant to keep them fed for a year.

On the upside, I'm too busy fighting for my life to run for it. Or even fear for it. The complicated process of digging out/lighting/chucking bombs and dodging/tumbling/running from the legs of the monster is keeping me kind of preoccupied.

I wince as the thing screams again, but force myself into a dead run straight ahead. Can't chuck the bomb from under here. Have to get back out in the open.

The thing screams triumphantly when it sees me and I can already see its tail whipping down at me at lightning speed. I jump to the side and throw the bomb as hard as I can as I go. Anduriel's too far to catch it, but it doesn't matter. I've held on to it for long enough that its fuse is almost up and it explodes right in front of the damn thing's face. It screams, in pain this time, and flails wildly with its pincers.

Now … maybe I can dodge the stinger (though just barely), even though it's my size. It's still the smallest thing on there.

Trying to dodge the pincer coming at my right now, though … it's kinda like trying to dodge a barn that someone's picked up and thrown at you. It doesn't matter how fast, or how much warning you've had, you're not getting away from that.

So I just brace myself for the impact and remain relatively unsurprised to find myself seeing stars and in mid-air …

… and then abruptly not so in mid air. I grind to a halt against a large chunk of the thing's mask and just gasp frantically for air for a moment. When the black circle threatening my vision finally abates somewhat, I realize with a sudden, sick feeling that the Maeasm – half of its mask missing now, revealing an ugly, half-formed mass of black flesh beneath it and around the burning eyes – is headed straight for me, screaming it's insectile scream of rage as it comes. Anduriel is no longer riding it. I can see her, rushing beneath the Maeasm's legs, trying to get to me before it does.

Something inside me – I've no doubt as to what – responds to the Maeasm's furious scream with one of its own and I'm pushing myself to my feet without fully realizing it, and faster than I would have thought possible, but not even the Beast will be strong enough to save me now.

I can see the tail snapping down at me, and I'm hemmed in with rubble. I can't dodge it this time. The Beast snarls with my mouth at this unexpected end and tenses as though it means to try anyway, but I push it to the back of my mind with a snarl of my own.

If I'm going to die, I'll be damned if I do it with that thing in charge.

I clench my fists and force myself to look my death straight in the face …

… and find that death looks a lot like the back of Anduriel's head.

She's darted between me and the stinger and is glowing golden as she raises her hands and catches the stinger. Her arms tremble and she gasps in pain at the impact, but it only pushes her back a little ways.

"Go, Link!" She gasps, her voice laced with a sudden, tense pain. "Up the tail. Aim for the crystal … I can't hold it … much longer…"

I don't need to be told twice. I've just spotted the crystal she's talking about – a little white speck, barely visible in the center of the ugly flesh – and immediately recognized it as a weak point with a professional dungeon crawler's eye.

I move past Anduriel and leap up onto the stinger, scrambling on all fours up the segmented tail, using it's own armour for hand and footholds. I can feel it shudder beneath me and the Maeasm is screaming in rage at its inability to free itself. I can feel it strain to pull its tail free of whatever hold the rapidly weakening makanihas on it. Something gives, and time slows down.

I throw myself off of it and into a leap just in time.

The Maeasm rips its tail free and it whips back over its head. It plunges back down at Anduriel almost before it's even fully returned to its starting point.

I draw the Master Sword, mid-leap, and blue fire immediately erupts from the blade as I reverse my grip, blade-pointed down.

Anduriel's glow fades and her knees buckle as she starts to fall to the ground. The Maeasm moves in for the kill.

I get there first.

I only just tap the crystal, the point of my sword barely touching it, but the effect is instantaneous.

Blue fire explodes from the crystal, ripping over and through the Maeasm, burning through unformed flesh and carapace alike.

It screams an inhuman scream of pain and desperation and fear, and the beast within me sings at the sound of it.

For half an instant I hang where the Maeasm used to be, staring at the gleaming white crystal – which is no longer a crystal but is in fact a little girl – then she, what's left of the mask, and I all fall to the ground and Time speeds back up.

I hit the ground hard, just barely managing to keep my feet, but it doesn't matter because I caught her before she hit, her impact knocking me backwards onto my backside near the fallen makaniwho is struggling into a seated position.

Laruto throws her little arms around my neck shakes and trembles, but I've got her now, and suddenly nothing else matters because she's crying and clutching me in a three-year-old death-grip, and I can't breathe but I don't care.

This must be what a parent feels like when their kid is finally born. The thing is screaming blue murder, it's terrified, probably in pain, lost and confused, and in just about the most wretched state any being could ever be in, and for you it's the most beautiful sound in the world.

Why? Because it means they're alive, that's why. Whatever state they're in, however miserable, however hurt … they're alive, and that's what counts.

I clutch her back, just as tightly, and let her cry.

I did it.

She's safe.

She's all right.

Everything is all right.

Anduriel squeezes my shoulder weakly and offers me a happy smile. Kiki pulls on her tunic and looks at her in concern, still clutching my mirror. I blink down at it, having forgotten about it in the heat of the battle. I look back up at Anduriel.

"Once she calms down," I say, nodding my head at the sobbing girl in my arms, "you're going to have to tell me exactly what happened there." Anduriel raises an eyebrow.

"You don't know?" She asks. "You didn't feel it?"

"All I felt," I tell her, "was a wall coming down on my head."

"Hmm," she says. "That's very … interesting."

I consider commenting, but Laruto's making doing anything very difficult so instead I just lean back against the rubble and wait for her to cry herself out.

xxx

"So … I'm going to assume, here, that the maidens are immune to the Dark World?"

The questions not so much whether or not they are. Obviously they are. Laruto is chasing Kiki around the cave with that stumbling walk all three year olds have. If she can get close enough when he's not watching, she'll pull his tail and go into a giggle fit when he screeches and scampers away from her again. She's obviously not feeling the negativity of this place pressing in on her from all angles.

No, the question was more of a why.

Anduriel nods. "Because of their unique situations – particularly the blood of the Sages – they are immune for the most part from this place. The more levels on which they are pure, of course, the better off they'll be. Laruto here is just about as pure as they come – most children are. So long as she doesn't see anything that will make her unhappy, this place can't really touch her." I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Good," I say. Partly because I'd hate for Laruto to have to deal with that, and partly because I've already started to plan out my next steps. If I can get to Hunter or Neesha or Zelda this will be a lot easier if they aren't subjected to the same kind of change that I am, and the same kind of moods. I make a face. They're likely going to have to free the rest without a lot of help from me since I'm out of commission every night …

But at least there's hope.

The fact that Laruto is running around this cave, giggling and playing happily attests to that. She still wants her mum and dad, but for now she's content with a familiar face.

"Unk-ink! Unk-ink!" She says, using the name she's been using for me since she was old enough to talk. She's quite capable now of saying "Uncle Link" if she really wants to, but she rarely wants to. She toddles over to me and drapes herself over my knee, holding up a little blue hand. In it she's got a little tuft of blue fur. "Blue!" She says, and giggles.

"Purples!" Kiki cries from the back, sounding as wounded and offended as I've ever heard him sound. "Kiki is being purples!"

"Blue!" She insists. I grin at her and pull her up into my lap.

"Whatever you want it to be, kiddo, that's what it is," I tell her. Anduriel clears her throat. I look up and meet her gaze and resist the urge to wince.

Oh. Yeah. Right.

I sigh heavily and turn back down to Laruto. She's picked up on the sudden change in my mood and is peering up at me intently. Her eyes are shaped like Ruto's, but their colour is all Acqul's … constantly shifting from blue to green and back again depending on the light.

"All right, kiddo, I've got to get going," I say. Her mouth turns down into a frown and I can see the temper tantrum forming behind her eyes. "Hey, now," I say sternly, "none of that. I'm not your papa, kid, I'm not falling for that kind of stuff and you know it." She thinks about it for a moment, and opts instead for sticking her lower lip out in a pout and sniffling. "You're going to stay with Anduriel, okay? With Anduriel and Kiki."

"Why can't you stay?" She demands, pouting further.

"I … have something to do," I sort-of-lie. "Besides, I need to find the … hmm … the road back to your mum and dad. You do want to go home don't you?" She sniffles again, but this time it's for real.

"Yes," she says.

"Well, then I need you stay here, while I go find the way home." I poke her nose and she scrunches it in surprise. "I'll come back for you once I've found it, all right? Be good, because if you're not I'll hear about it, and I'll tell your papa, and you know he doesn't like it when you misbehave." She scrunches her nose further.

"Tattle-tale!" She accuses me, crossing her arms in a huff.

"You bet your boots, I am," I say. "I mean it, Laruto. Be good. Promise me."

She sulks.

"Laruto…"

"Fine," she grumbles. "I promise."

"Good," I say. "Listen to Anduriel. She'll keep you safe for me, all right?" She nods and her lower lip trembles. "Hey, come on," I say, "don't cry."

"I can't … help it," she hiccups. "I want … to go … home." Tears start to spill down her cheeks. "I want my … my mama … and … and …"

"Your papa, I know," I said with a sigh, getting to my feet and taking her with me. "I'll get you home, kid. I promise, all right? Have I ever let you down before?" I hand her off with some reluctance to Anduriel, and feel a brief stab of paranoia.

Can I really trust Anduriel?

I've only known her for what … two days?

But before the thought has even fully processed I know the answer: what other choice do I have?

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" I ask her, eyeing her closely. "You're not … well … to be blunt, you look worse than ever." She does. She's paler than before and when she picked herself up off the ground back at the fortress there was more than one feather left on the ground behind her. She's walking with a tired, weary effort.

"Now that that monster is gone?" She asks. "I'll be fine. I just … I overextended myself back there. Used up too much energy. I need to rest and I'll be fine." I narrow my eyes at her.

"I don't believe you." She meets my gaze and shrugs.

"Then you don't believe me," she says. "What will come will come, but now you need to go. If, in the morning, you are still close, then return here. If, however, you're too far, do not waste time in tracking back. You'll only have to cover the same ground over again, and your time is limited to the days." Her face takes on a concerned look. "I do wish you would wait before beginning this mission." I frown and look away.

"I can't," I say. "Not with Laruto here. I can't … if I hurt her …"

"I cannot dissuade you," Anduriel says. "Be careful, and be wary of the Beast in the day. Do not let it take you or all is lost."

"Believe me, I know," I say. I lean down so my forehead is near Laruto. "Give me a kiss for good luck," I tell her. "I'll take it respectfully and everything." My grin fools Laruto at least, and she giggles and kisses my forehead. I poke her nose again and turn towards the cave entrance.

"See you in a few days, hopefully. Be good, squirt."

"I'm not a squirt!"

"Link, there is something else," Anduriel says. I pause at the cave mouth and turn to face her, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes have that this-is-important look. "Be mindful of the Triforce. When the Maeasm came after us … it was the Triforce that woke it. It took advantage of the fact that someone was trying to contact the mirror and forged a connection where their magic could not. That's what woke up the monster and brought it down on top of us." I blink in surprise and look down at my hand.

So when it burned …

"But … it's never … well, just that once, back when I first met my parents, but …"

"That was there, Link," Anduriel says. "This is its home. It has more power here than you're aware of, but it's power is unbalanced. It's missing it's compatriot parts. Be wary of it. Be careful in your handling of it." I pull my eyes up from my hand and nod.

"All right," I say. "Thanks for the tip." I turn around and walk out of the cave mouth. Behind me I can hear Laruto start to cry. I force myself to ignore it and keep putting one foot in front of the other.

I can't see the sun for the clouds that are permanently roiling in the sky, but somehow, I know … it's starting to set.

I pick up my pace. I need to get as far away from here as possible before it goes down, and the Beast gets loose. Far enough away that it won't double back.

Anduriel's hiding just how much pain I know she's in. She's hurt herself badly helping me against the Maeasm and I feel guilty about it. At least she'll be free of me for a while. I'm not there to keep making things worse for her.

I want to plan out my next move, maybe figure out which direction to head, but it doesn't matter. The Beast will go where it wants and there's no telling where I'm going to wake up tomorrow morning.

There will be water if the Goddess wills it, or so the Gerudo say.

Nothing to do now, but keep pushing ahead…

… and hope that nothing pushes back.

xxx

A Brief Interlude

"Leave me be!" He snarled. "Haunt someone else!" The transparent face remained angry and undaunted. She walked over in front of him and glared silently, damning him with her accusing gaze. There had once been a time – before he'd been given the damn crystal – when he'd pitied her in a way he hadn't in a long, long time. It had taken him a while to recognize her – the last he'd seen her she'd been a bright-eyed teenager with gorgeous wavy ebony locks. Her ghost was an adult, though still young … painfully young to have died. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five at the most. Her transparent face was gaunt and the ghost of her eyes was bright with what had evidently been a fever. Or a poison. It was hard to tell which. Not all of the casualties of the Great War had died on the battlefield. Her hair was thin, now, and had lost its shine and most of its wave, plastered to her face, instead, as it must have been when she'd died.

So yes, he had pitied her. The calm, clever girl he'd known by face and name, if not on a personal level from the Sheikah Caverns. He thought he might have attended her Quisros, though there was no way to know for sure. His memories of that time grew further and further away from him every day.

She moved again, lifting a thin, pale hand and pointing at the center of his chest, where the crystal hung suspended from a chain. Her lips twisted into a scowl when he didn't move.

"This isn't my fault," he snarled at her. "Why must you insist on following me like this? Leave before he gets back and makes you leave." But still she pointed and glared and damned him. She didn't care, that was the problem with ghosts. Most of the time they were nothing more than a nuisance for those who could see them. They weren't even aware of you, too busy reliving their deaths as they had since the moment they'd died. But every now and then you'd get one with a purpose, or you would unwittingly snap one out of its unwitting stupor, and he'd had the unfortunate luck to do just that with this one.

And she was stubborn.

"And don't look at me like that. I said it's not my fault. It has to be done, and that's all there is to it." Angry tears began to fall down her cheeks, just as transparent as the rest of her. She pointed again, practically begging him now, and still damning him with her eyes. "Dammit, Aeria! Go away!"

And as though his words had been a command, she did. She disappeared with a violent twist of her form and an agonized wail at last piercing through the silence she'd maintained. He hissed and whirled around, meeting the red-eyed gaze of the creature behind him almost guiltily.

"Why did you not merely dismiss her?" It demanded in a voice as cold as steel. "I've given you the power to do so."

"She wasn't … she wasn't bothering me that much," he lied.

"I have tasked you with protecting that crystal," it said flatly. "She is a distraction from that. Do not suffer her pleas."

"Y-yes, of course Master," he said with a slight bow. "I … will be harsher with her in the future."

"Good," it said, it's tone never changing. "Now ready the people. The Triforce of Courage works its way here and I would be ready for it. Ganon will be displeased to learn that we have lost the first maiden. We will not lose another." He winced.

"M-master … the sun is still out. I can't … you know I…" But the creature was already gone in a rustle of leather wings and black armour. He hesitated, but knew that if he had an order he was best to fulfill it. Maybe he could rouse them from his balcony … stay in the shadows…

He'd find a way. He didn't have much other choice.

The Triforce of Courage, he mused to himself as he walked towards the room's door. That means the Hero of Time is coming …. He picked up his pace a bit, a small, sickly bloom of hope suddenly surfacing valiantly in his heart.

Perhaps I may yet find an end …

He thought briefly of Aeria, forced to live the circumstances of her death for the rest of eternity in this Hell, but fastidiously put the thought out of his mind.

Anything was better than this… anything. Why?

Because it had to be.