Legend of Zelda: Reconciliation

by Rose Zemlya

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

21. An updated Interlude

The Legend of Zelda: Reconciliation

UPDATE: The chapter is now finished – I left the "to be continued" in at the end for those who want to pick up where they left off. Chapter 22 will be posted as soon as ff dot net and I finish our usual hate-filled dance of it-hates-my-formating.

Oh ff dot net. How I have missed you.

Rose Zemlya

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An Interlude

"This is not fun," noted Bel, huddling as close to the fire as she could get without physically merging with it. "Why didn't we bring a tent?"

"Because we're stupid," Mel grumbled back. "Because we're stupid and Dune was three steps behind us and if we're ever going to pull this off it's absolutely vital that Dune doesn't catch us and flay us and feed us to Impa."

"Right," said Bel, holding her hands as close to the fire as she dared. "Impa. Right."

"What do you figure the odds of it being any warmer at Lake Hylia?" Mel asked, tucking her hands under her arms and getting as low to the ground as she could behind the makeshift wall they'd built out of the snow; it kept most of the wind out, but not nearly enough for her liking. She leaned back against her horse and attempted to suck the warmth out of it through sheer force of will.

"About as good as the odds of us actually getting to Lake Hylia tomorrow in this abysmal weather," Bel responded crankily. "Assuming our horses don't freeze to death."

"Assuming we don't freeze to death," Mel corrected her, equally crankily. "Urgh. Remind me to kill myself next Darunia offers me a way out of trouble. Who knew it'd be this much work."

"Stop talking," Bel hissed. "You're letting out valuable warmth."

"You know," said Mel, "I don't think it—." She cut herself off, as both horses straightened suddenly out of their drowsing and pricked their ears towards something outside the little snow walls. Bel and Mel exchanged a glance, then moved for their weapons.

"Should I douse the fire?" Bel asked in a whisper, though it looked physically painful to even make the offer. Mel shook her head.

"Too late. Whatever they are, they've probably seen it already. We'll just tip our hand."

"Please let it be a Moblin," Bel breathed as they crept silently over to the wall the horses were staring at. "Please let it be a Moblin. Don't let it be Dune. Please let it be a Moblin." They pressed their backs up against the barrier and exchanged another glance, then slowly pushed themselves up to peer cautiously over the top of the wall.

It took a moment for their eyes to pick out the dark shape through the swirling snow. From their angle it didn't look like much more than a lump in the white, being quickly covered by the blowing flurries.

"Trap?" Mel asked.

"Don't know," said Bel, "but it's way too small for a Moblin. Maybe an animal?"

"One way to find out," said Mel tensely, and turned to climb out of the shelter. Bel followed suit. They approached the dark lump cautiously.

"Din's blood!" Bel gasped once they were close enough to make out a few more details. "It's a person!"

"It's a kid!" Mel exclaimed, and immediately pushed her weapon back into its sheath and stumbled through the snow to where the little boy was being slowly buried by the wind. Bel turned around and scrambled back to the shelter, popping up a moment later with a thick blanket in her hands. Mel dropped to her knees beside the boy's still form and hastily pulled him out of the snow. She blinked in surprise at the boy's clothes: he was dressed as though it was summer, not the dead of winter, and all in green, besides.

"A Kokiri," she breathed. She pulled the boy close and looked up to the east. They weren't that far off the Lost Woods – maybe an hour, two if you were a little boy not prepared for the weather. But what was he doing out of the Lost Woods? The Kokiri couldn't leave…

She was jostled back to the current situation when Bel arrived and pulled the boy from her arms, wrapping him tightly, head and all, in the thick woollen blanket.

"Come on," she said. "We need to get him back into the shelter." They got to their feet and moved back behind the relative safety of their snow walls. The horses flicked their ears curiously as they climbed back into the shelter with their perplexing bundle.

"Stoke the fire," said Mel, taking the little boy back from Bel. She set him gently on the ground and pulled the blanket back to check if he was breathing. Though his lips were blue, and his freckles stood out starkly against the grey tint of his face, he was still alive. He trembled and whimpered, but didn't open his eyes. Mel frowned and wrapped him back up again.

"We should put him between the horses," she said. Bel looked up with a frown.

"If they roll over they'll kill him," she pointed out.

"If we don't get him warmed up, the cold will," Mel countered. "And the horses we can control."

"All right," said Bel. They spent the next few minutes doing everything they could to start warming the boy up despite the weather's efforts to the contrary. Once they were done, and there was nothing left to do but wait, they sat back down and did just that.

"What's a Kokiri doing out of the Lost Woods?" Bel said with a frown.

"I don't know," said Mel unhappily. "But once this storm clears up we have to put him back. The Kokiri can't survive outside of the woods."

"Urgh," said Bel. "Acqul's going to kill us. He's already reluctant enough about helping us. I can't help but think showing up late isn't going to help our case."

"Well we can't leave him to die," Mel pointed out. "I don't think Acqul would want that either."

"I know, I know," Bel said, waving her off. "I'm just saying." She offered her twin a wry smile. "Maybe we can ask the kid to write us a letter so Acqul believes us. He'd technically owe us, right? Saving his life and all. Might make life at Lake Hylia a bit easier for us." Mel returned her smile and curled up around herself.

"Look on the bright side," she said, "we could be Thomas. He must be bored out of his skull out there at the Desert. I can't imagine being meek little Thomas in a fortress full of warring Gerudo. They've probably locked him up in the dungeons 'for his own protection.'" Bel giggled.

"Poor guy," she said. "He just can't catch a break, can he?"

xxx

"What do you think?" said Rue, her weariness evident in the lack of irritation in her voice at having to discuss anything with Sahasrahla. "Will it hold?"

"Of course it will hold," returned Sahasrahla, his own weariness evident in his lack of patience with the Gerudo. "I made it. Shield runes are my specialty."

"And you are old and tired," returned Rue flatly. "How long?"

"The night," said Sahasrahla, after a moment of consideration. "Unless they have spontaneously sprouted mages. The magic cannot be unwoven by physical might, merely by time." Rue gave a curt nod and turned to peer down over the edge of the wall.

"Nabooru!" She called. The young Gerudo leader looked up. "The shield will hold for now." Nabooru nodded and turned to her people.

"Regroup!" She shouted. "Purple, get the wounded out of here. Anybody still one hundred percent get up on the walls – I don't care what colour you are. Watch that shield and sound the alarm if it shows even the slightest sign of breaking."

"Your faith is inspiring," muttered Sahasrahla. Rue offered him a cool look.

"When fighting beasts born of black magic," she said, "one is best to be ready for anything."

"Any Elite who can still walk, to me!" Nabooru continued, then turned and jogged toward the ladder leading up to where Rue, Sahasrahla and Thomas were standing, surveying the carnage just beyond the shimmering white shield extending through the air between the Moblins and the Gerudo gate.

Thomas could still see them, just beyond the haze of the shield: a massive, roiling crowd of brutality and viciousness and violence. They'd gotten too close – that was why Sahasrahla had thrown up the shield. But even then it had taken him the better part of an hour to weave one strong enough to stem the tide. A group of Gerudo had left the relative safety of the walls to meet the Moblins halfway and hold them back in the meantime – none of them had come back. Thomas suspected that they knew they wouldn't be when they left, and yet still they had gone. None of them even questioned it. Some of them had looked eager.

They were an odd people, the Gerudo. Odd, and frightening.

Down below, the Elite separated themselves from the rest of the Gerudo and moved for the ladder Nabooru was scaling. The Sage of Spirit offered Thomas a feral grin as she hit the top of the ladder – it was almost frightening, really, the sudden flash of white in a bloodstained face. He didn't know how Nabooru could be smiling at a time like this – she, in fact, didn't seem tired at all; unlike everyone around her – but he decided that perhaps it was because she was crazy.

"Not bad, Terry," she said. "You don't look too worse for the wear. Did you throw up yet?" Thomas gave her an affronted look.

"No," he said, struggling to maintain a polite tone through his tiredness and wounded pride. Nabooru barked a short laugh and turned to the ladder as another white-clad Gerudo climbed up to join them on the tower. She put a hand on her hip.

"You owe me ten rupees, Amplissa," she said. "He hasn't thrown up yet." Amplissa snorted.

"Probably lying," she said. Thomas frowned at her and opened his mouth to defend himself – foreign allies or not, he'd been dealing with this type of thing since Rue had dragged him out there, long before the sun had set, and he was really starting to get sick of it – but Rue cut him off before he could.

"His performance has been satisfactory," she said, cutting the two younger Gerudo off. "For a boy. He is his mother's son after all, apparently." Nabooru and Amplissa exchanged a glance, then sighed and gave up their teasing. Thomas stood there and tried to decide whether that was a compliment or not, but in the end settled for being happy it seemed to have diverted Nabooru and Amplissa's attention away from him.

"So," said Nabooru as a few other Elite came up the ladder. "Not bad for a day's worth of fighting, eh?" Thomas briefly considered pointing out that it had actually been a day and half of a night, but decided the distinction wasn't worth risking his current amnesty over.

"You are overconfident, young one," Rue said sternly. This seemed to break through Nabooru's buoyant mood somewhat.

"What is it?" She asked, frowning suddenly, picking up on some note in Rue's voice that had escaped Thomas' notice.

"I don't know," Rue answered, her own frown deepening in her face. "But there is something we aren't seeing. Something…shimmers in the air when I cast my spells. Something…aches in my bones, and that's never a good sign." Sahasrahla gave a cough that sounded vaguely like 'arthritis', or perhaps, 'senile', but Thomas was apparently the only one who heard or cared. Nabooru shook her head.

"Rue, if something was up, I would have sensed it," she said.

"As I've said," Rue responded, "you're overconfident. And you're drunk on the spirit of your sisters. Your senses are blinded." She sighed then. "Never mind," she said. "Just…keep a stiff watch up while we tend our wounded and regroup. The old man is passing with shields and it should hold long enough. But just in case."

"All right," said Nabooru unquestioningly.

"Now," said Rue, "I am old. And I am tired. I need rest if I am to be ready to start again come the morning. You too, boy," she said as she brushed past Thomas. "I'll not have you passing out tomorrow at a critical point." Thomas threw an uncertain look at Sahasrahla, who winked at him and nodded.

"Best do as she says, boy," he said. "No offence, but you look like you could use the rest." Thomas nodded and turned to follow Rue.

"What's our next step?" Amplissa asked Nabooru as Thomas walked between them. Nabooru frowned.

"We do as Rue says. We beef up the watch. And then we wait for the greens to tally our losses and let us know who can and who can't fight any longer. Get rest where we can grab it. This time belongs to the Moblins as much as to us, and we aren't the only ones regrouping. I need to jump to the Sacred Realm to update and be updated with the other Sages. I won't be long. Amplissa, you're in charge 'till I get back." She continued to hand out orders and assignments until Thomas was too far down the ladder to hear her. He was surprised when he realized that Rue was waiting for him at the bottom of the ladder. She gestured impatiently at him, and he picked up his pace.

"You have done well for your first battle," she said, turning to walk back towards the fortress.

"I didn't really do much," Thomas noted, unsure of what to do with her apparent praise. "Just held spells for you and Sahasrahla." Rue arched an eyebrow at him.

"What do you they teach you in the Sheikah Caverns?" She demanded. "Even the smallest contributions matter in war. Do you think the twelve-year-olds, stuck in the nursery sewing bandages are any happier with their position than you with yours? But they do not whine. They know their job is just as important as even Nabooru's, commanding from the front lines." Thomas shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to suggest that I was unhappy, I don't—"

"Bah," said Rue. "Do not lie to me, young one. You want glory and power as much as anyone your age does. You may have it yet, before this war is over, but in the meantime content yourself with your role. You may only be holding spells for myself and the wizard, but doing so leaves us valuable time and concentration and energy to craft more complex spells than we would otherwise be able. Do you think Sahasrahla could have woven that shield had you not maintained his other spells for him? No. He could not." Thomas furrowed his brow. She sighed at him. "I am neither praising you, nor being critical. I am merely making an observation that perhaps you had not. Pay attention, boy, as the old man and I cast our spells and weave our magic. Though we haven't the time to teach you, you may learn more by watching than you think."

"I…thank you," said Thomas, because he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. It seemed to satisfy Rue, though.

"Retire to your quarters," she said. "I will fetch you when I have need of you again." And with that, she was gone. Thomas watched her go, then sighed and headed towards his room. He was tired – more tired than he'd realized in the heat of things – and was suddenly immensely grateful for the chance to rest.

War, he thought to himself as he tumbled into bed without even taking off his boots, was nothing like what he'd expected it to be.

xxx

"You're right," said Brayden tensely as he and Renaud surveyed the pending conflict from their rooftop vantage point. "Something's not right. Those aren't the Hylian guard."

"But what are they?" Renaud asked, narrowing his eyes as he studied the two rough groups gathering on either side of the market. It was hard to see them through the swirling snow. On the one side were Eldrick's followers: a hodgepodge of soldiers, civilians, and probably just about any non-Hylian currently in Castletown. Eldrick Sr. had wasted no time in sending out word that reinforcements were needed at the Market, and the response was resolute. They definitely outnumbered Durnam's force, but Brayden didn't think that was going to count for much.

Durnam's force was lined up in a neat and orderly fashion on the other side of the market. They all wore dark cloaks that offered no clue as to the wearer, but there was something about them that smacked of combat experience, and something else entirely that smacked of something not-quite-right – even through the sheet of white. There was a smell in the air that was familiar, somehow, but every time Brayden thought he placed it, it slipped out of his mind and was gone again. He suspected everyone else was having the same problem, and that didn't make him feel any better.

"You don't think they've got a mage, do you?" he asked. Renaud didn't answer, but his frown darkened exponentially.

"This isn't going to go well," he said. "We need a contingency plan."

"What we need is a way to escape – to get everyone out – when this all starts going wrong – however it starts going wrong. Any chance you can get Eldrick out of here? If something happens to him…"

"No," Renaud responded. "I could perhaps talk him into removing his son from the fray, but at this point? It's likely too late for that. Dorian will resist, as always, and by the time we've convinced him the fight will have begun."

"This situation is a goddess damned powder keg," Brayden hissed. "We absolutely need at least one of the Eldricks to maintain support, and we can't afford to give Durnam any more ground. A stalemate would suit me just fine, right now, until we can deal with the Moblins and actually have resources to dedicate to Castletown, but something tells me that's not going to be possible after tonight…"

"Brayden!" Renaud gasped suddenly. "What about the sewers?" Brayden blinked.

"Come again?" He said.

"The sewers," Renaud repeated. "You asked how we could get everyone out. What about the sewers? There are at least four entrances nearby. If this goes horribly we can pull everyone down into the sewers and regroup elsewhere." Brayden thought about it.

"What if they chase us?" He asked. "They could surround us easily down there, and they have access to the maps." Renaud offered him a grin.

"Aye," he said, "the Hylian maps. The ones in the palace don't include the Sheikah additions." Brayden blinked again.

"Oh," he said. "Oh. You're right." He paused. "But where are we going to get a Sheikan map on such short—the Archery Shop!" They turned as one to peer at the Archery shop – it's door locked up and its windows dark since Bruiser died. "Bruiser was our man on the ground here," Brayden said. "He'd have a map, for sure."

"All right," said Renaud, with a quick nod. "You grab the map, I'll let the Eldricks know. We'll meet back up here in ten minutes."

"Make it fifteen," said Brayden with a wry smile.

"Why fifteen?" Renaud asked, surprised. Brayden shook his head.

"Because when my brother meant to hide something well," he said, "even he would be hard pressed to find it again…"

xxx

The first thing Mido was aware of was the not-exactly-pleasant smell of having been too close to an animal for too long. The second was that he was cold – not as cold as he had been, of course, but what warmth he had now was still only in his extremities; the inside of him was still cold – and he had a headache and was very, very dizzy. The third thing he became aware of was that he wasn't alone.

He attempted to call out a threat; to make sure that whoever they were knew exactly who they were dealing with, but what came out was more of a moan, or maybe a honk, and wasn't very threatening at all. Mido spontaneously decided he missed his fairy partner.

"He's awake!" Said a voice near him.

"Tough little bugger!" Said the same voice, but from somewhere else entirely. And then someone was picking him up, pulling him out from between what turned out to be two large animals Mido had never seen before, who offered him a mild, tame look before he found himself staring at two, identical faces.

"Wow," said one, with a bright smile, "are you ever cute."

"How do you feel?" said the other. Mido tried to respond that he was fine and shove them away, but it didn't work out like that. Instead he whimpered and curled up tighter in his blankets. "Poor kid," said one.

"Hey," said the other, "I know you're not feeling well, but can you tell us why you've left the Kokiri Woods?" Mido cracked open one eye again and stared at them. They didn't look like anybody the Great Deku Tree had described, so he closed his eye again and shook his head.

"All right," said the one. "Then as soon as this storm lets up—"

"—We'll take you back," finished the other. This penetrated through the cotton blanket wrapped around Mido's brain and he opened both his eyes and stared at them. He tried to tell them no, but couldn't remember for a moment how to move his mouth. He frowned and focused on it, forcing his mouth to work.

"N-n-n-n-no," he said finally, unable to control his chattering. "I n-n-n-n-n-need….I n-n-n-n-need…g-g-go…" The two identical girls exchanged a glance that was lost on Mido.

"Sweetie," said the one in a kind voice, "you need to go home."

"You'll die if you stay out here," added the other. "We have to take you back."

"N-n-n-n-o!" Mido said again, clearer this time. He started to struggle against the blanket wrapped tightly around him. "N-n-n-n-no! I'm-m-m-m on a m-m-m-m-ission. G-g-great D-d-d-ek-ku…"

"A mission!" Exclaimed the one as the other attempted to tighten the blanket around him.

"Stop struggling," she said firmly. "You need to stay in the blanket to stay warm. You've been in the cold too long."

"What mission?" Asked the first, but Mido refused to answer her, merely shaking his head. He was only supposed to tell certain people. The girl tried a different track. "Where?" She asked. "Where do you have to go for it?" Mido considered the question. The Deku Tree had told him to be quick; he suspected the two animals might actually be horses, and hadn't Link told him that riding a horse was like riding the wind? And he didn't know how far he'd already made it, but he knew he couldn't continue in the cold and the strength-sucking whiteness that blanketed the ground out here. And the two girls did seem very nice. And the Great Deku Tree hadn't said he couldn't say where he was going…

"C-c-c-c-castlet-t-town," he finally chattered out. "O-or K-k-kakarik-k-ko." The two girls exchanged another, longer look, and Mido was given the impression that they were having some kind of silent conversation he couldn't hear.

"Castletown's closer than the Lost Woods," pointed out the one.

"But in the opposite direction of where we're headed," pointed out the other, then added in a hiss, "and Brayden's there. What if he catches us?" Mido blinked at the name. Brayden. That was one of the people he could tell his message to.

"Brayden's busy with the civil war," said the one. "He—" but Mido interrupted her by taking one hand out of his blankets to grip her sleeve.

"B-b-brayden," he gasped. "M-m-m-mission." The two girls' eyes widened in surprise.

"You have to talk to Brayden?" asked the one.

"That's your mission?" said the other. Mido nodded and gave them a pleading expression.

"P-p-please," he said. "P-p-p-please." They exchanged yet another look.

"The storm isn't over yet," said the one.

"Castletown isn't that far," countered the other.

"The gates will be up."

"They'll let us in with a sick little kid. Not even Durnam's that heartless." There was a pause. "Look at him, Bel. He's really sick. We need to get him inside somewhere or he'll never warm up." The other still looked doubtful. "We can hand him over to Brayden and let Brayden figure out how to get him home. In again out again, that's all. We can't just—"

"All right," said the other. "All right. Let's suit up, then. I'll take the boy."

"Put him inside your coat."

Mido tried to respond, to say thank you, since that was polite, but they moved him and his dizziness grew exponentially worse so he didn't say anything, just let them bundle him up and put him on the horse.

One of them – the one that wasn't holding him – doused the fire, and the light died out with a hiss and sputter, and for some reason, it was the saddest thing Mido had ever seen.

xxx

"Goddess dammit, Bruiser!" Brayden snarled, tearing the sheets off of Bruiser's bed and shoving the mattress off the box spring. It felt more than sacrilegious to be destroying his brother's room like this – it was always the most meticulously kept part of the whole building – but he had to find that map, and he was sure Bruiser would have forgiven him if he'd been alive, and besides, it wouldn't be the first time Brayden had made a mess of Bruiser's things, now would it? It was kind of appropriate, in an ironic sort of way.

So he kept his brain focussed on his task, instead of on the memories that lived in the walls of the Castletown Archery Shop.

There was nothing in, under, or around the box spring.

"Map," Brayden said. "Map, map, map. If I was a map, where would I be?" His eyes fell on the framed map of Hyrule hung on the bedroom wall – it was an old map, and someone had 'amended' it by sticking an extra sheet of paper with the phrase "Gerudo Fortress" in the approximate location of the desert, just outside the frame. Someone else had evidently then amended that by drawing an angry face in the "o" in Gerudo. He frowned. "Wrong map. If I was a super secret map of the Castletown sewers I wouldn't be on the wall." He started to move towards the door – the only place left to search was the kids' room – but paused. "Unless…"

He turned back around and moved over to the map of Hyrule. "Unless I was on the back of a not-so-secret map hung on a wall." He pulled the frame off the wall and slid the back off. There, crinkling behind the visible map, was a second piece of parchment. "Bruiser you bastard," Brayden muttered, peeling it out and verifying it was the one he needed. "If you wouldn't put this stuff in places like this I wouldn't have to tear your room apart every time I want to steal something that belongs to you." He slid the backing back into the frame, and hung it back up on the wall, taking a moment to straighten out the Gerudo's Fortress, then turning and bolting out into the hallway and down the stairs.

He slipped out the back door and moved his way around to the front again. He could see Renaud splitting off from the Eldricks at the front of the massive crowd and moving back towards their agreed to rendezvous point and he doubled his pace to meet him back up on the rooftops.

"Did you find it?" Renaud asked.

"Yes," replied Brayden, pulling himself up onto the snow covered roof. He pulled it out of his coat and they immediately bent over it, scanning the detailed plans for a feasible regrouping point.

"What about here?" Renaud asked, pointing at a section of the map, but Brayden shook his head.

"Too close. We won't be able to put any distance between them and us. Here?"

"Too far, now," Renaud replied. "We'll lose too many people on the way." He chewed absently on his lip as he surveyed the map. "The only other place I can see would be here, but that's right under the palace, and I'm sure—"

"Oh!" Brayden interrupted, pointing. "Renaud, what about here?" Renaud cocked his head to the side and studied the map.

"I…suppose," he said slowly, considering it. Brayden cast a glance at him.

"We're desperate," he said, "and out of time. And if we're going to get a breather anywhere in this city, it's going to be here." Renaud rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Well," he said, "I suppose it's not that far from the Noble's quarter, which is neutral territory still. And there are connecting tunnels to just about everywhere, actually, now that I look closer." Brayden raised a questioning eyebrow at him, and finally Renaud gave a curt nod. "All right," he said. "We'll regroup there. I'll take the top half of the crowd, you take the back half. We'll spread the word."

"We should split them up," Brayden said. "Take half of them one way, and the other half the other."

"I'll go north, you go south."

"Good," he said. "You see the way?"

"Yes, I have it." Brayden offered him a grin as he pulled the map back and rolled it up.

"Excellent," he said. "Then we'll meet up beneath the Temple of Time."

xxx

Acqul cast a slow look around the circle of officers gathered around the table.

I don't understand, he said. Why haven't they attempted to pass the barrier by land? They just keep throwing themselves at it in the water. Zikole and Eckari exchanged a hesitant look before the former turned to the General.

We…well, Eckari and I are wondering if perhaps they can't pass the barrier by land. That is, that they can't operate out of the water.

It could be a trick, suggested Aktan. Meant to lure us into a false sense of security and loosen our defences on land. Acqul considered it.

Have we ever seen any of them cross over?

No, sir, responded Eckari. They stay in the water at all times. They've fired from the water on our land troops, but that's as much as they've done. It's…highly unusual.

To say the least, added Zikole. Acqul felt his frown darken.

If it's true, he said, this is an unexpected advantage, but one we cannot exploit until we are absolutely certain. I will not risk our soldiers on assumptions. For a moment they were silent, each contemplating the best way of proceeding.

We could capture some of them, suggested Aktan hesitantly. Drag them kicking and screaming up into the air. See how they react.

Capture?! Zikole responded, startled. Aktan, we're having a hard enough time killing them, how do you expect us to—

Acqul! All those gathered at the table twisted around as Ruto cut through the water at an alarming pace and skidded to a stop before them. The lieutenants hastily bowed before her, but she didn't appear to notice or care. The scouts have just reported in. The enemy's gathering to launch an attack at us.

What?! When!? Acqul cried, standing abruptly.

Now!

Dammit! He whirled around to his lieutenants, face hardening. Battle stations! He snapped. We'll finish this discussion later. Prepare the men to stand their ground. Aktan! The tall lieutenant stopped short and turned to face him.

Yes sir? Acqul hesitated, for just a moment.

If you get the chance to take one alive, he said, do it. But go to no extra lengths. Act only if an opportunity presents itself.

Yes sir! Said Aktan, saluting smartly. He turned and sped off after the others to alert the men and prepare for the incoming assault.

Ruto, said Acqul turning towards her, but she cut him off.

No, Acqul, she said, sounding irritated. Stop trying. I'm not staying behind. Acqul huffed and crossed his arms.

If something happens to you—

It won't, Ruto said. I'm the Sage of Water. I'm in my element. Nothing is going to happen to me. Besides, she added, I've got you to protect me, don't I? It was an attempt to placate him and Acqul knew it. She didn't need his protection. If anything, he could use hers. He sighed.

Fine, he grumbled. You win.

Of course, Ruto replied. Now let's go. The men need you.

xxx

"I don't like it," Impa murmured, staring at the maps in front of her without really seeing them. "I don't like it one bit."

"It is certainly…odd," Karun rumbled, rubbing his bad leg absently. "Unlike the moblins to give us a break. Especially when it seriously appears as though they outnumber us."

"It could be a good sign," suggested Dune. "Maybe…well, maybe Link has been making headway in the Dark World. Perhaps he's managed to do something about the portals and the seals. Maybe even—"

"With all due respect, Dune," Darunia interrupted, his voice gentle and sad, "before you get my hopes up any higher than they already are, I'd appreciate it if you don't finish that sentence."

"Hmm," said Dune. "Sorry. But it is a possibility."

"True enough," said Impa, "but we can't afford to make our plans based on hopes and possibilities. We need to look at the reality—such as it is." She pointed at the map. "The Moblins have fallen back to here—without reason. Instead of pushing the advantage they sacrificed so many to obtain, they retreated. Why? We should have lost the west pass this morning, and yet here it is, in blue and red, and we hold it still. We are good, my friends, but not that good. Are they regrouping?"

"Something has changed," Karun noted. "Some element of this fight that we are unaware of has changed. I don't think they're regrouping. Our scouts have not reported any of the usual activity that would accompany that."

"Then what?" Darunia rumbled. "Karun, if you have an idea then let's have it." Karun frowned darkly as he studied the map.

"They're waiting for something," he said. "It's the only thing that makes any sense. Even had the portals been closed completely, they still have had the advantage. They would be even more foolish to have thrown it away in that case. So regardless of whether or not the portals are available to them, something outside of that is prompting their decision to hold. We need to know what it is."

"But how?" Dune demanded. "It's not like we can ask them. It's not even like we could send in a covert spy. And we don't speak their language besides. Any intercepted messages would be useless to us."

"Assuming they can read," Darunia remarked with a slight grin.

"It is unlikely we will be able to discern what they're waiting for through anything but the Goddesses' will," Impa noted. "As such, we need to focus on what we do in the meantime. How do we fortify our position against an unknown threat?"

"Double the guards," Karun suggested, "increase patrols, keep up morale, prepare contingency plans for every possibility we can think of…"

"And pray," Darunia added.

xxx

"Is this how the Would-Be-King of Hyrule demonstrates that he is fit for the throne?!" Eldrick Senior's sonorous baritone was audible all over the market, even if his form was hard to pick out through the growing whiteness. "By sending a battalion of soldiers against the farmers and merchants that he would have as loyal subjects?" There came no response from the figures aligned on the other end of the market. This only served to incense Eldrick further. "Well!" He cried. "We will show you what merchants and farmers can do! And when we are done you can take our message back to that fool on his stolen throne! The only ruler of Hyrule is a Hyrule!"

"Why don't they attack?" Eldrick Junior demanded impatiently. "Forget that. Why don't we attack?! They're just standing there!"

"Patience, young master," said Renaud. "Your father knows what he's doing."

"We don't want to throw the first punch, so to speak," Brayden added. "Hard to portray yourself as a reluctant hero if you go around instigating things."

"This isn't instigation?" Dorian demanded as his father continued his monologue. "I thought we were trying to instigate something!"

"We're trying to provoke them into instigating something," Renaud said. "It's different. The moral high ground is an exceptionally important position to hold in any conflict with even slight philosophical or political implications."

"Doesn't matter," Brayden noted darkly. "It's not working." It was true. Eldrick Sr. had been going at it for some time now, but the strange figures on the other end hadn't so much as twitched. Meanwhile, their own forces were growing increasingly jittery. Dorian rattled his sword in its sheath and scowled.

"Why don't you just throw a stone again?" He demanded. "It worked last time." He bent over and pulled a chunk of ice off of the ground. "Like this." He reared back to heave the ice, but suddenly found his wrist in a vice-like grip. He gave a start and twisted around.

"What are you doing?!" He demanded, narrowing his eyes and glaring at Brayden. "Unhand me!"

"I hope you weren't planning to throw that," the Sheikah responded flatly, "because then I'd have to break your wrist." Dorian stared at him incredulously.

"What?" He said. "You can't threaten me! Renaud!" He turned to face Renaud without relinquishing his grip on the ice, but Renaud only frowned.

"This isn't the time, Dorian," he advised, impervious to the youth's offended noise. "I know you want to fight, but that's not necessarily in our best interests at this point. Brayden is right."

"I mean it," Brayden said, and tightened his grip. "We don't know what's going on yet, and until we do we're at a distinct disadvantage. Your impatience is going to get us all killed."

"You," Dorian said in a poisonous voice as he redirected his gaze, "are not my father – and even if you were I wouldn't care what you said. You don't exactly have a sterling track record, now do you?" He attempted to wrench his arm free, but, if anything, Brayden's grip only tightened. "Let go of my arm or I'll have you hanged!" Brayden did nothing but narrow his eyes further. Dorian huffed impatiently. "I'm not going to throw the blasted thing. Take your filthy hands off me." Brayden gave his wrist one last squeeze – suppressing the urge to break it only with a super-human effort – then did as the boy demanded.

"Fine," he said. "But I mean it. Settle down before you—Dorian!" The last was a joint cry on the part of both Brayden and Renaud as the dark-haired youth pulled his arm back again and hurled the chunk of ice with all of his strength. It whistled through the air, carried even further than they'd expected by a sudden gust of wind.

"Idiot!" Brayden snarled, and turned as though to make good on his promise to break the young man's wrist. As he did so, however, Dorian's target moved at last, snapping a gloved hand out from under his cloak to catch the chunk in mid-flight. The thunk of the ice hitting his palm was carried to them on the wind and for a second, everything but the snow fell still. Eldrick senior fell silent. Though he didn't turn to look at his son, even Brayden could sense his rage. Dorian quailed beside him.

Before anyone could react beyond that, however, there was a rustle from the force allayed against them as those in the front of the group threw back their cloaks and raised nasty looking longbows of a make Brayden didn't recognize.

"Get down," Renaud said.

"What?!" Dorian demanded.

"Get down!" Brayden snarled, grabbing him by the neck and dragging him down into the snow. The unmistakable sound of a dozen longbows being fired at the same time snapped across the night; barbed arrows whistled through the air, somehow unaffected by the wind, and over the heads of those quick enough to have followed Renaud's lead. Those who didn't did not remain up for long.

"Father!" Dorian cried, trying to shake free of Brayden to scramble to his feet. Eldrick Sr. was a vague lump in the snow ahead of them, but Brayden couldn't tell if it was because he'd ducked, or he'd been hit. "Let me go!"

"Dorian." Renaud's voice carried a level of command Brayden hadn't heard him use on either of the Eldricks yet. The passive Sheikah stood in front of them and offered the junior Eldrick a hand to his feet. "We need to leave. Now."

"What?" Dorian snapped, shoving Brayden roughly and climbing to his feet without taking Renaud's hand. "No! I'm not leaving! My father—"

"Does not need you distracting him," Renaud interrupted. "This fight, as we have said from the beginning, has its purpose hidden from us. Those men aren't members of the Hylian guard, and those aren't Hylian bows. Your father can handle himself but if you are here he won't be able to focus as he needs to. We leave."

"I'm not—!"

"Dorian, look around you!" Renaud snarled, gesturing. Behind them and beside them several people had dropped to their knees beside those hit by the barbed arrows. The snow was dark with their blood. Across from them their enemies had put away their bows while the Eldricks' forces were still trying to collect themselves amidst the shock at the suddenness of the attack. Now the enemy drew wickedly curved blades – Those blades, though Brayden to himself, I've seen them before…haven't I? He wasn't sure. The thought was slippery and wouldn't stick in his mind – and prepared to advance. "Something is wrong here, Dorian, and the only thing you'll accomplish by staying is needlessly endangering yourself, and your father."

"Well if something is wrong," Dorian snarled back, "then it's all the more reason for me to stay! I'll not leave him now!" And before Renaud could move close enough to stop him, the boy had bolted forward through the storm, drawing his sword as he went.

"Dorian!" Renaud cried. "Dorian! You damn fool boy!" He actually threw a little temper tantrum in the snow, swore violently to himself, and then tore off after the younger Eldrick. Brayden almost laughed. The scene was so unbelievably familiar, that to see it played out by other people was almost heartening.

His joviality didn't last long, however. Before Eldrick Jr. had reached his father the figure who'd caught the ice chunk gestured, and his companions charged forward without warning, unexpectedly swift given the snow and wind. Brayden barely had time to throw himself to one side as one of them barged straight for him.

He was suddenly glad he and Renaud had come up with a contingency plan; he had a feeling they were going to need it.

xxx

"Hurry up," Bel said with a grunt, attempting to shift the little boy's weight without undoing the blankets wrapped tightly around him. "He's heavy."

"Nobody's in there," said Mel, returning. Bel could sense more than see the frown on her face. "Where are the guards? It doesn't even look like anyone's up on the walls."

"What the Hell?" Hissed Bel. "That doesn't make any sense. Farore, we're in the middle of wartime, there should be double the number of guards."

"Whatever," Mel hissed back with an irritated sigh. "We'll have to take one of the back doors."

"What?!" Bel demanded. "And get caught?" Mel rolled her eyes.

"There's no one here to catch us, dummy. Remember? All the Sheikah have been recalled. Brayden's the only one stationed at Castletown right now. And besides, we need to get inside or he won't be the only one suffering exposure." She gestured at the bundle in Bel's arms.

"All right, fine. Lead the way."

They moved slowly through the growing storm towards the east side of the wall and one of the few secret entrances into Castletown from Hyrule Field.

"You know," Bel said darkly as Mel poked and prodded various bricks in an attempt to remember which one actually concealed the trigger, "the first thing I'm going to do if I ever see Link again is beat him up and take his Ocarina. Never have to worry about travelling in the freezing cold ever again."

"There!" Mel said, finding the right brick at last. She struggled with it for a moment, her mittens impeding her ability to pull the brick loose, but was at last able to remove it from the wall. She reached into the gap it left and fiddled with something on the inside, until at last a portion of the wall slid back, revealing a passage to its left.

"Finally," Bel breathed. "Hang on little guy! Warmth is just a few steps away!" Mel hastily shoved the brick back into place as Bel stumbled into the passageway, out of the snow. She followed her sister in and hit the switch to close the door once they were both safely inside. They exchanged a glance, a curt nod, and then turned and continued to move through the short hallway. The hall dipped steeply a few metres in, and took a sharp turn, coming to a stop at a ladder. Mel scrambled up the ladder and pushed open the trap door. The smell of hay and horses billowed down in a blissfully warm, if malodorous cloud and Mel felt her face break into a smile for the first time in what felt like days. She pulled herself up into the stable, ignored the startled look from the single, agitated horse occupying the building, and reached down to grab the little Kokiri and lift him up so her sister could climb the ladder. She peeled back the blanket and peeked in.

"How is he?" Bel asked as she ascended and turned her attention to refastening the trap door.

"Alive," said Mel grimly. "But that's about it."

"Hmmm," said Bel. "I'm going to have a look around and see if I can't find him a dryer blanket. Then we need to go find Brayden."

"Bel, what's wrong with that horse?" Mel asked, frowning at the nervous animal. It pranced unhappily in its cell, shifting its weight and making dissatisfied noises.

"Probably just the storm," said Bel with a shrug. "Malon said horses are sensitive to the weather."

"Hmm," said Mel. The storm was certainly a bad one; even in the enclosed stable they had to speak up to hear each other over the sound of the wind tearing around outside. "Do we even know where Brayden is?"

"No," said Bel, "but he won't be far. I may not be fully up to speed on the situation in Castletown, but I'd say it's a safe bet he's not at the palace." She produced a thick blanket from a trunk at the back of the stable with a triumphant flourish, and moved back over to Mel. "He's either at the Archery Shop – which would be so fantastic he's probably not, what with it being right across the square – or else he's at the Temple of Time, or maybe with—," she paused to wrap the blanket around the already heavily blanketed little boy, "or maybe with the Eldricks." They turned and moved toward the stable doors. "I mean, come on. He's the only Sheikah in Castletown right now. How hard could it be to find him?"

Mel pushed open the door with her shoulder, and started out into the snow, but stopped dead, unexpectedly. Bel walked into her, and stumbled back a step. "Mel! What are you—." Her voice died off as she peered over her sister's shoulder and took in what looked like an extremely one-sided battle going on in the square.

"Found him," said Mel grimly.

xxx

"…and that's pretty much it on our front," Nabooru finished.

"You're sure you're not being over confident?" Rauru asked, raising an eyebrow. Nabooru made a derisive noise.

"You sound like Rue," she said flatly. "This is the same war we've been fighting since the end of the Great War. It's the same damn war we've been fighting since there were Gerudo to fight it. The Moblins have been trying for years to break our walls and get at our fortress and we've never let them before."

"These are bigger Moblins," Rauru noted. "Far more dangerous."

"You think I don't know that?" Nabooru snapped, a sudden hint of edge in her voice. "You think we don't know that?" She waved in an irritated fashion. "It doesn't matter. So they're better organized, so what? They're still stupid brutes, and I'm not being petty, I mean that literally. All they've managed to do is execute their same old tactics more efficiently, and with more power than before, but it still won't be enough to break our line. Not what they've shown us so far. We've held that pass for centuries. We've held it against Moblins for decades. They can't get into Hyrule if they can't get through the pass, and they can't get through the pass because Gerudo guard it, and unless things change drastically for them some time soon, they can continue to shatter themselves against our walls, but it will do them no good." Rauru finally nodded, but Nabooru frowned.

"You're still worried," she noted.

"I am," he admitted. "And so are you, I think, if the ferocity of that last rant was any indication. Something is not right here. Things are going too well. You've managed to hold them back in the desert. The Moblins have inexplicably retreated from Kakariko, however temporarily. The Dark Zora are pinned behind Acqul's wall and can't seem to pass it. It's too…easy." Nabooru considered that.

"Well," she said, "maybe…Hyrule's just seen so much war it's finally gotten good at it."

"That," Rauru sighed, "is no more comforting a thought than the alternative, I'm afraid."

"Well, if they've got something up their sleeve, we'll know soon enough," she said. "No point in driving ourselves to drink over it now." She sighed. "Anyway, I've got to get back. With Link out of reach morale is not as good as it could be, and I'm not helping it by being absent. I don't suppose any of the others—"

"You know they haven't, Nabooru," Rauru interrupted her. "I would have told you the instant they let me know. You would have known if he was back, anyway."

"Hmm," said Nabooru with a sigh. "I know. Figured it couldn't hurt to ask."

"I'll update the others on your situation when they come, as per usual," Rauru said. "Keep me abreast as things develop."

"Will do," said Nabooru, and willed herself back to the Fortress.

As her command centre materialized around her, the Elite in the room spared no more than a passing glance before returning to their tasks. Amplissa offered her a curt nod.

"The Moblins have been quiet," she reported immediately. "A few small parties ventured near the shield, but not close enough that we could permanently discourage their curiosity. Otherwise nothing's happened."

"Good," Nabooru said. "Do we have the tally yet?"

"No, but it's looking fairly standard for this type of battle. Maybe even a little on the good side. I don't think we lost as many as we expected to."

"Any purple perform well enough today for a field promotion to red?"

"Not yet. It's still too early in the conflict, I think. But there's three or four that will for sure if they survive long enough, and at least a dozen more that are likely to if the combat carries on long enough." Nabooru gave a curt nod. "Any news on the King?" Amplissa asked.

"Not yet," Nabooru said, forcing a grin. "He's still hiding in the Dark World while we do all the work." Amplissa forced a laugh.

"Typical male," she said. She opened her mouth to say more, but the sound of shouting from the courtyard outside drifted in through the open window. The Elite in the room all froze, straining their ears to determine the source and reason for the sudden noise. The next instant, however, the sharp, clear ringing of the alarm bells cut through the air, and the command centre instantly dissolved into a flurry of activity.

"Nabooru!" A breathless Elite skidded to a stop in the door of the command centre, her cheeks still flushed from the cool night air. "The shield! It's coming apart!"

"Nayru," Nabooru swore viciously. "Trust the old man to screw it up. Amplissa! The mages!"

"On it!" Amplissa bolted out of the room and darted left, heading for Rue's room.

"Everyone else, to your stations!" The order was unnecessary. The Elite were already bolting from the room and out into the night. The rest of the fortress, alerted by the alarm bell, was doing the same. By the time Nabooru was clambering up to her observational post, Sahasrahla was already there, staring in consternation at the smooth white shield shimmering in the air; it was undulating wildly as they watched, wavering and writhing in front of the gates. Through the cloudy surface of it they could see a mass of black on the other side – Moblins without a doubt, waiting for the shield to come down.

"You!" Nabooru snarled, pointing at the old Wiseman. "You said it would hold. What's happened to it?"

"I don't know," said Sahasrahla grimly, unfazed by Nabooru's ire. "It was sound, I know it was. I didn't leave anything out. The runes were correct."

"What's happening to it?" Nabooru demanded. "Why is it doing that? What are we looking at?"

"It's self-destructing," said a tense voice from behind them. They both turned to look as Rue and Thomas ascended the ladder. "Its time has run out. It will shatter shortly and our brief respite will be at its end." She turned a condescending gaze on Sahasrahla.

"I thought shields were your speciality," she said.

"They are," he returned stiffly. "I'm telling you, this makes no sense. You were there when I cast the bloody thing. You know this doesn't make any sense."

"Then why is it—" But Nabooru never got the chance to finish her question. There was a deafening sound, like cracking glass, and the next instant the shield splintered, and then shattered, the pieces winking out of sight before they fell to the ground. The Moblins beyond moved immediately, charging forward, into the gate and the startled Gerudo, and Nabooru suddenly had her hands full screaming orders at her sisters as they scrambled to fend off the sudden attack.

"But," said Thomas quietly, "I thought only another mage could have undone the shield before the morning."

"So did I, Thomas," said Sahasrahla with a frown. He exchanged a glance with Rue and they both shook their heads grimly. "So did I."

xxx

It was hard to see through the bubbles and blood. The water roiled, whipped into currents and eddies by the ferocity of the battle on the other side of the wall. This was the closest the dark zora had gotten to date. They'd actually managed to get past the bend in the river this time, and for the first time since the start of the conflict, Acqul had a front-row seat.

Aktan! Up! Zikole! Down! Flank them!

He shouted a constant string of commands from behind the barrier and his troops responded like the well-oiled machine they were, but the Dark Zora didn't care. They clawed and bit like animals, rending flesh and seemingly immune to pain. They were furious, frantic abominations and that held an advantage all its own.

Ratu! To the left! Fan out and rake their side!

It was hard to tell who was dead and who was alive. The bodies floated where they died, but were tossed and turned by the force of the underwater battle, giving them the illusion of life. It made it hard to tell how the battle was going.

Take another pass!

Ruto helped where she could – a lucky current here, fortuitous ebb there – but the battle was too close, the Zora too tightly interwoven with the Dark Zora for her to risk any large displays. The Dark Zora, for all their animal instinct, were intelligent enough, at least, to have realized early on that it wasn't wise to allow Ruto the opportunity to use her abilities.

Aktan! Form up on the gate! Sweep them out!

Aktan and what was left of his group disengaged from the main combat and cut a path back towards the gate, but the Dark Zora they had been engaging followed them out.

Hecra! Acqul shouted. To Aktan! Guard his flanks! Zikole! Bakaro! Prepare for sweep manoeuvre down the east side! Eckari! Ratu! Shore up the west side and hold!

The water swirled wildly as his troops reformed at his command, leaving the Dark Zora scrambling to compensate. Hecra and her group slammed into the Dark Zora screaming at Aktan's flanks, allowing the latter to lead his group at full speed toward the gate. Without slowing a notch, they made a graceful arc as they arrived and pointed themselves back towards the combat, focussed on the east side.

Incoming! Aktan shouted as they shot out again, weapons at the ready.

Aktan! Hecra shouted. Above! But the warning came too late. A small party of Dark Zora slammed into the centre of Aktan's sweep, driving a hole into the line. Acqul's face twisted into a snarl and it was only through a supreme effort on his part that he managed to keep from swearing.

Bakaro! Fill in the gap! Aktan, pull them back to the gate! He turned to his left. Secki! Over the wall! Back him up! Beside him, Ruto's eyes flashed brightly in the now murky water, and Aktan and those soldiers that had been knocked out of the sweep with him, were swept back to the barrier, along with their aggressors. Secki issued several tight orders to his group, and they shot for the surface as a unit, arcing over the barrier and cutting back into the water on the other side. They fell hard on the Dark Zora, momentarily blocking Acqul's view of the sweep, still proceeding in the water beyond. Sekti and his men drove the Dark Zora engaging Aktan's men even deeper into the water, and Acqul was content that they wouldn't be long at dispatching them. Sekti had been held as backup the entire encounter – his men were fresh and ready, whereas the Dark Zora they fought were wounded and tired.

He turned to continue directing the sweep when he caught sight of Aktan, engaged in fierce one-on-one combat with a Dark Zora, separated from the rest of his group and Seki's. He hadn't followed them down.

Secki! Acqul shouted. Finish them off and prepare for a sweep down the west side! Aktan! Kill that thing and get back to your troops! What are you doing?

Taking the opportunity, sir! Aktan responded, twisting roughly to avoid a slash from the badly wounded Dark Zora. As ordered! Acqul cut himself off before ordering Aktan back to his troops, understanding at last. He was trying to capture the Dark Zora alive. But Aktan was wounded too, and flagging rapidly. The Zoran General hesitated, moved to order him back, then paused again.

The revelation that the Dark Zora hadn't yet tried to pass the barrier by land – the most logical means of surpassing this particular obstacle – was a cause of both concern and hope. If, in fact, they couldn't leave the water, then all the Zora had to do was hold the river. They would have an unbelievable advantage. They could lessen the guard on land, dedicate more resources to defending the wall itself, maybe even launch land-based attacks and counter-attacks, safe from Dark Zora retribution.

But there was always the possibility that that was exactly what the Dark Zora wanted. That the instant they lessened the guard on land, their enemy would pounce, taking advantage of the weakened defences and pouring past the barrier and into Hyrule proper. The Zora casualties would be immense.

And besides that, they guarded the primary source of water for the entirety of Hyrule. If they lost control of it…if the Dark Zora blocked it somehow, or ruined it entirely….

The risk was too great. Too much was at stake. They couldn't act without proof.

They had to be sure.

Eckari! Ratu! Prepare for sweep! Bakaro! Zikole! Consolidate the east side! Secki! Execute sweep! He turned to his wife. Ruto, he said, concentrate on the sweep, I'm going for Aktan. Her eyes flashed and he made a beeline for the surface, breaking into the air just as Secki began his sweep below. He hung for a moment, in the air above the barrier, registering the startled looks on his land-troops' faces at seeing their general throwing himself over the wall, before slicing into the water on the other side.

[…to be continued…]

Aktan was below him, locked in a clumsy grapple with the thrashing Dark Zora, and the General bore down on them. He snapped out his fin blades and slashed deep into the creature's back as he tore by. It gave a warbling, underwater howl and Aktan dragged his own fin blade across its face. It cried out again and raised its hand to clutch at its face in shock. Aktan took the opportunity to disengage from the creature and bolt down through the water toward his general.

One run, we drag it up, Acqul said. Go! The were off like a shot, leaving a streak of bubles in their wake as they sliced through the water, back towards the snarling Dark Zora. They each grabbed an arm as they tore by it, clenching their hands around it as it thrashed, refusing to let it get loose. Their faces hardened in determination as they drove for the surface. Realizing at the last minute what was happening, it began to struggle harder, sinking its teeth into Acqual's arm and clawing at Aktan with its feet. But its efforts came too late.

The two Zora burst into the air above, their captive still clenched between them, and landed clumsily on the shore. Immediately several soldiers came to their aid. Two dragged the screaming Dark Zora further back from the water and two others helped the general and his lieutenant to their feet.

"What the devil is wrong with it?!" Aktan said, panting heavily. Acqul turned to look. The Dark Zora was flailing and screeching – it sounded worse above the water than it had below. The sunlight glittered for a moment on its green scales, but abruptly they began to darken and turn black. Its eyes bulged and it scraped at its throat with its claws, tearing its own scales off in its fit. It's tooth-filled mouth opened and it belched a burst of fire, causing a startled gasp from the gathered soldiers, who promptly moved further back – not fast enough for some. The next instant it went rigid as the edges of its scales went red, and it burst into flames with explosive force. Several soldiers standing nearby were caught in the blast.

The unscathed soldiers moved forward to their fallen comrades hurriedly as the burned, shrivelled husk of the Dark Zora fell, still smoking, and was still. Those not currently occupied stared uncomprehendingly at the scene, the battle below almost forgotten in their shock.

"What…does that mean?" Aktan managed.

Acqul had no answer to give.

xxx

The Sage of Shadow stood deep in the heart of the Sheiakan Caverns, breathing in the perfect dark. No light reached these ancient halls and catacombs; an endless labyrinth of earth and shadow extended around her, and she lost herself within it, loosing herself within its boundless expanse. Power flowed in these places; power as old as the world itself, flowing like a black current all around her. She let herself flow with it, breathing in and out with the shadow's tide.

She was looking for something. All day she had been aware of it, fraying the edges of her non-physical senses. That she had not discovered prior to coming to the dark places was significant in and of itself. She was the Sage of Shadow, and nothing could stay hidden from her for long. But whatever this was, was well hidden indeed. She had debated the wisdom of coming here - there was so much still to do, and she was needed in Kakariko if morale was to stay high while waiting for the moblin attack - but in the end there was already too much they didn't know. They couldn't afford what was possibly yet another unidentified threat lurking around them. And this one she knew she could find.

Nothing escaped her in the dark.

She tested the black waters around her. Here the current was strong, the undertow dangerous for any but herself. Here she was the black waters. She selected a current and let her senses flow down it, drifting along the shadows of the Caverns, searching for the thing at the edges of her awareness. She flowed through the darkness under Marni's bed, observed the young woman bickering with her brother over nothing of consequence - a defence mechanism, she knew, to keep him distracted from the more terrible things to come; she passed through Darunia's shadow and the Sage of Fire fell silent, mid-sentence, and nodded to acknowledge her presence. Karin asked him what was wrong, but she didn't hear the answer, already moving on along the river's flow. She saw Dune, alone and grey-faced and thinking, no doubt, of her children and how they were both beyond her ability to help right now. She continued on in this fashion, observing the Goron and Sheikah inhabiting the Caverns, pausing now and then to listen to a conversation, or note a peculiarity, but saw no evidence of the thing she was actually looking for.

Not in the Caverns, then, she thought to herself with some satisfaction. So on to Kakariko. She pulled her senses back to herself and chose another current.

In Kakariko things were much the same. Impa's awareness slipped and rushed through the town's wide streets and narrow alleys, and she observed its inhabitants, continuing about their daily business as though nothing was wrong with the world, but every now and then looking over their shoulder or supressing a shudder. Small gestures, insignificant in the moment, but perhaps not so overall. Impa noted them. If nothing else, it leant strength to the suspcion that the source of the problem was in the town. People were creatures of light - born of it, created by it, living in it - and by definition they cast a long shadow. If there was something wrong in the black current, it was not unusual that even your average person could sense it.

And then, without warning, she found it. A dam in the black river, diverting some of its flow to some other purpose than its own will, while letting the rest flow on. It was a subtle construction, small and unobtrusive She felt her physical form scowl. Whoever had placed it had been aware of her abilities. They had designed it to draw only a little from the endless flow of shadow, no doubt hoping to avoid her notice. And if they were smart enough to do that, they may be smart enough to realize that it would be impossible to hide even a the slightest trickle diverted from her. People, perhaps, were born of light, but Impa had been forged in their shadow, born of the dark places. She was the river as much as its rider.

She followed the artificial current. It lead to a house supposedly abandoned, higher up in town near the moutains. In the house a group of men had gathered, their forms shrouded beneath their literal and figurative cloaks they had drawn around themselves. She saw them both as they were and as the cloak made them appear and she was staggered by the simplicity of the spell. It wasn't a true cloak - that's how they could get away with such a small diversion of power to fuel it. They had not actually disguised themselves, simply prevented the knowledge from registering in anyone's mind. It wasn't a cloak, it was a secret. Unless the secret was shared verbally, those meeting the hooded men would not recognize them, not know who or what they were. They might seem familiar, might even tickle your brain the way they'd tickled Impa's senses, but you would not know them.

Secret Spells like this one had many valid uses, but she doubted that was the case here. She slipped through the shadows of the room to get a better look at the men, trying to find an angle that would afford her a glance beneath their cowls. The men were speaking one of the languages of magic, chanting rhythmically as they wove another spell. She slipped from the dark beneath the window to the shadow of one of the casters, and as she did she realized two things, neither of which was good.

First, the casters were not men. They were moblins. Slight of build, intelligent eyes, but still undeniably moblins. The thought made her ill. There were moblins in Kakariko - moblins capable of wielding magic! - and they had been unaware. This, then, was why the other moblins had pulled back. This is why they were waiting. These hidden moblins would attack from the inside. Would hit at their unprotected flanks and leave them unprepared for am assault on the pass. It was a brilliant plan. Flawless, except that they had been caught.

But then she realized the second thing: the moons weren't the only ones who had been caught. The caster standing over her turned his face down as he finished his chant and grinned an ugly grin at his shadow. Impa realized with a sickening certainty that he knew she was there. She hastily tried to pull back, to remove herself from the black river and return to her body, but she wasn't fast enough. The moblin held out a beaker in one hand and spoke a sharp word. Impa recognized the spell now. It was an ancient thing, used a log time ago to capture and imprison shades that had escaped from the Sacred Realm.

The beaker in the moblin's hand suddenly, explosively radiated light, and Impa felt herself and the black current she rode being sucked up into it, like a vortex, or a whirlpool.

The bastard had cast the spell on his own shadow, trapping it - and Impa - as one would a shade.

She felt her body go slack and fall dully onto the floor in the dark places of the Sheikan Caverns, and then she felt nothing but the searing heat of the bottle of light.

xxx

The market had become a warzone for the third time in Brayden's life. He ducked one jagged blade - the make was so familiar, but he couldn't remember where he'd seen it before - only to leap over another. He countered a third blow, slashing his sword across his oppoenents face, and threw a fistful of knives at the first two. One went down screaming and clutching it's eye, and the other staggered drukenly, at least three simple hilts jutting from it's body in various places.

Whoever these strangers were, they were better than the city guard, but not as good as he'd feared. The downside was that they appeared to have a ready-made strategy in place. After the initil attack - designed, Brayden was now sure, to filter the skilled combatants from the rabble - the enemy had begun to focus fire, ganging up on those loyalists who appeared to represent the greatest threat.

He twisted to dodge a vicious attack and saw, between the chaotic melée, a dark figure through the snow, whirling around a large lump and fending off the attackers closing in on it. It had to be Renaud. No one but a Sheikah could move that smoothly in this blizzard. Which meant the lump was probably one of the Eldricks, which meant it was time to go.

He finished his turn and lifted his sword to dispatch his attacker but realized with a sudden jolt that there was not one, but two of them, and the blow he'd dodged had in fact been a feint. He swore violently and attempted to correct his trajectory, already knowing he was too late.

"Brayden!"

His attacker screamed an inhuman cry of pain and lurched awkwardly forward, it's blade missing the mark as it stumbled, and Brayden took the opportunity to drive his own into it's stomach, letting the man's weight drive it deep. He tore it out and whirled around to deal with the other one, only to find it bleeding to death on the ground. A young Sheikan woman was pulling her sword from it's back.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, forcing himself to be a Sheikah first and a grateful damsel-no-longer-in-distress later. "All Sheikah were recalled! You should be in Kakariko!"

"We're not Sheikah," said the woman, just a little sadly.

"Not any more," said an identical voice from behind him. He turned around and saw a second young woman, this one carefully carrying a large bundle. Brayden blinked in surprise and opened his mouth to exclaim - what In Nayru's name were Bel and Mel doing in castletown at a time like this - but the first one cut him off.

"Later, Brayden. What do you need?"

Brayden nodded, deciding not to question it. "I need you to spread the word to regroup. Tell everyone to fall back as planned, into the sewers. Then meet me over there." He gestured at where Renaud was still duelling in the snow. "And we'll get the Hell out of here."

The twins nodded and darted off into the storm, still carrying their bundle. Brayden shook his head and turned toward Renaud, racing through the blood drenched snow. He leapt at the back of the nearest attacker as he arrived, driving his sword deep into the unprotected back of it's neck.

"Renaud!" he cried, "we need to fall back! I've sent the message around. Renaud!"

But the ex-Sheikah didn't appear to hear him and Brayden straightened over his kill to squint at him through the snow. He realized with a violent start that the other man was crying silently, tears tracing cold trails through the blood on his face. He wasn't fighting defensively at all. At least seven corpses lay around him, and realizing that there were now two sheikah to contend with the attackers were backig off to regroup or find an easier target. Remaud's face twisted with rage and he moved as though to chase them down, but Brayden leapt forward, grabbing him arm and hauling him back. He tensed and prepared to duck if Renaud tried to take a swing at him, but at his touch all the rage seemed to bleed out of the man and he sagged.

"Renaud?" Brayden said cautiously. "What--"

Renaud cut him off with a gesture, pointing behind at the lump Brayden had noticed before. "Stupid boy," he said angrily, voice little more than a whisper. "I told him to leave."

"Dorian's fine, Renaud," Brayden said, squinting at the lump. It was hard to make out the details, but he could see the younger Eldrick kneeling in the snow and holding his bleeding side, and shouting something Brayden couldn't make ot over the wind. "He's bloodied but fine." And then he realized what the lump was.

"The boy is fine," said Renaud, grief-struck eyes painful to meet, "because his father loved him as all fathers love their sons, and did for him what you would have done for yours, given the chance."

Brayden felt his stomach drop and along with it all his hopes for salvaging something more than their lives out of the whole mess. Eldrick senior's limp form lay half-buried in the snow, his face covered with blood from an ugly, deep gash in the back of his skull where he'd taken a direct hit from a blade. Brayden didn't have to ask if he was dead.

"Renaud," Brayden said urgently, gripping the other man's arms tightly, "Renaud we need to get out of here. We need to get Dorian out of here or this will have been for nothing. Do you understand? Renaud, please. I need you. I can't do this alone, okay?"

Renaud shook his off and said nothing, but turned and jogged through the snow toward Dorian. He grabbed Dorian unsympathetically by the scruff of his cloak and hauled him to his feet. The boy struggled, but Renaud forced him to stare straight into his face, and the son of Eldrick fell still, face twisting with grief and guilt and rage. Brayden turned away, uncomfortably aware of the intensely private moment.

As he did he saw Bel and Mel approaching him through the snow.

"We told everyone we could find who wasn't already dead," one of them said.

"Hope you know what you're doing, Brayden," the other added. "'Cause we're pretty dead if they follow us down into the sewers."

"I'm aware, thanks," he responded. "I need you two to go with Renaud and Dorian, okay?" he pointed over at them. "They're not...in great mental shape. Your job is to make sure Dorian makes it to the rendevous in one piece. We can't afford to lose him. Protect him as though he were Zelda, you understand? We're done if he dies. Renaud knows the way to the rendezvous. Make sure he stays on it. Don't let him engage the enemy uneccesarily. This is a retreat and nothing else. I'll meet you there with my group by a different route."

"Got it," they both said.

Brayden pointed at the bundle. "Do I need to know about that?"

"Yes, but it'll have to wait."

"Good, now go."

They moved immediately towards Renaud and Dorian, and Brayden wasted no more time. He turned and bolted back toward the regrouping point for his group and gathered up whatever stragglers he could find on the way, killing their enemy on the way. He and those following him ducked into the alleyway behind the archery shop and he did a quick headcount of those hiding there. All of twenty people.

We're so doomed.

"Let's go," he said, gesturing to the hole one of them had dug in the snow, per his instructions. The sewer grate beneath had been lifted and people beganto drop down into it. Those moving too slowly got a less-than-gentle push from those behind, with Brayden's blessings. "Quickly!" he hissed. Out in the market their strange enemies had begun to regroup as well, realizing most of their prey had slipped away. It would take them point two seconds to follow, and as though the thought was prophecy, a group of them broke off and started to run toward the alley. "GO!". Brayden shouted, shoving the last person in himself and leaping down after them. He landed gracefully on the frozen water that ran beneath the city and broke into a run along his plotted route. "Keep up or be left behind!" he shouted. As one, the group exchanged a paniced glance, then abruptly started running after him.

The cold stone of the sewers seemed eerily reminiscent of a tomb, and Brayden hoped that thought wasn't also prophecy.

xxx

When Mido came to he was sure he was upside down. For one thing, he was dizzy - far to dizzy to be anything even remotely close to right-side-up. For another he was staring straight up, but he was seeing the ground. Slick, moss-covered stones were set in lines above him, curving uniformly overhead. It was a weird floor, he reflected. How was anyone supposed to walk on it when it was all curvy like that.

But then someone slipped an arm under his head and tipped him up until he was sitting instead of laying down, and he realized he hadn't been upside down and the stones weren't a floor, they were a roof, and he tried to tell the lady tipping him that stones didn't go on roofs they went on floors but he couldn't because he was suddenly too busy trying to not be sick.

"Hey sweetie," said the lady, smiling kindly though her face was drawn and tired in a way only an adult's could be. "Glad you could join us. Thought we were going to lose you there for a while." Her eyes crinkled at the corners. "How you feeling?"

"Blurgh," Mido managed. His throat hurt enough to sting his eyes. "Where's the sky?"

"We're underground," the lady said. "We, um...we had to hide. I don't think...it might be a while before we can get you home again. How...how long can you survive away from the Lost Woods?"

Mido would have sagged back against her had he been sitting under his own power. His mission and everything since came rushig back in. The seriousness of the Great Deku Tree Sprout, the biting, lashig cold, the heaviness of the snow...the ladies and their horses...something else...he remembered screaming and...running through dark places... "I don't know," he croaked at last. "I don't know how long I'll survive. But I can't...I have to...my mission."

"Shhhhhh, I know," she said, pressing a bandaged finger to his lips to shush him. "Brayden's here. Are you up to speaking? I can go get him."

Mido nodded. He didn't really feel up to speaking, but the weight of his mission was worse than even the burning in his throat or the unpleasantness in his stomach. He wanted to transfer the burden of knowledge so he could focus on being sick.

The lady set him down gently and got to her feet. Mido weakly turned his head to survey the room and try to guess which one was Brayden. There were a lot of people there and as Mido looked at them he felt a sickness that had nothing to do with the cold from before. They were all ragged and torn, like leaves that fell off the trees and got all dried and crunchy and when you stepped on them they broke into pieces and you could never put them back together again. There was...blood. A lot of it. On them, on the floor, everywhere. They sat in huddles and moaned and cried, or just sat there and stared out at nothing. They clutched their wounds and their wounded and looked shocked and tired and just...broken. Mido's breath left him in a rush.

Link had left the Lost Woods for this?

The lady was coming back toward him - only now there was two of her and they had a man with them. Mido stared at the man, sizing him up. Blonde hair turning grey; dark, secret green eyes, haunted by ghosts Mido couldn't identify; Sheikah uniform like Link had shown him once; lines around his mouth and eyes, deeper than he'd expected, the memory of a lifetime's laughs and sobs engraved into his face. This, then, was Brayden.

"You look," he said hoarsely as they approached, "like Link."

The man came to a stop and studied him closely. "Know-it-all Brother?" he guessed.

The little boy struggled to push himself into a sitting position, offended for a moment beyond words. "Mido!" he said indignantly. "I'm Mido! Sheesh!"

The man's eyebrow shot up. "Mido!" he said. "My mistake. Link's told me about you. I'm Brayden, Link's father. I understand you have a message for me?"

Mido coughed weakly and one of the twins helped him to finish sitting up. "The Great Deku Tree Sprout sent me," he said. He raised a hand to wipe his forehead and was surprised by how warm he was. "I have a message for you or the Sages or a bunch of other people he said were generals but I don't know who they are. I know the Sages because they would visit Saria, but not the rest of you. It doesn't matter because I got lost. I don't...I didn't know...it doesn't do that in the Lost Woods. It doesn't snow."

"It's okay, Mido," said Brayden, dropping into a crouch beside him and meeting his eyes. He looked as tired and worn as everyone else; his eyes were like the leaves, just waiting to dry up and crinkle, but they were friendly and warm and Mido felt reassured. "Give me your message and then you can rest. You spent too long in the cold and you need to recuperate."

Mido took a deep breath. "There are Moblins in the Lost Woods," he said, and felt relieved when the three adults around him hissed sharply in surprise. "The Great Deku Tree Sprout says not to worry about the Kokori or the Woods. He is protecting them and no harm will come to either. But he sent me to warn you - I mean, all of you in Hyrule - that they're not normal moblins. They're new."

"First generation," Brayden said grimly. "We know."

"He said you'd think that," Mido said. "He said they're not first generation. They're new and you've never seen them before. They're little and they're smart and they can do magic. That's what I had to--are you okay?"

The man was very obviously not okay. He had gone as pale as a sheet. "Moblins," he repeated. "With magic...shit."

"Brayden, you don't think..."

"That was moblins who just handed us our ass?"

"Shit," Brayden said again. "Shit shit shit. We have to get the word out. Where's Renaud?!" And then he was gone, hurrying off through the people and calling for someone Mido didn't know.

"Was that everything, sweetie?" asked one of the ladies. Mido nodded weakly and she lowered him back down.

"You did good, kid," said the other. "Rest up and get better. We'll find a way to get you home, don't worry.". She didn't sound particularly convinced but Mido was too tired to doubt her.

He laid down and watched them bustle off after Brayden, speaking quickly and hurriedly between themselves, content for the moment that he had done his job and completed his mission and would soon be on his way home, the only real Kokiri to ever leave the Lost Woods and live.

He sensed again, as he fell asleep, that sinuous, whispering thing that had surrounded he moblins in the Lost Woods, and hummed along the edges of Link's sword. It was all around him now. It twisted around these people, some worse than others. It lived on them and in them and with them but he didnt think knew it was there. It frightened him, so he curled up tighter in his blankets and let sleep take him.

He dreamed of leaves under his feet, brittle and crunchy, cracking and breaking into a million little pieces, never to be whole again.