"H-How much longer…?" Young Link bent over with his hands in his knees, panting loudly.

"We've only been walking for six hours," Hylia's Hero replied dryly. "Honestly, if you have the strength to complain, you can walk."

"But there's no water," Young Link coughed hoarsely. "And it's so hot. We're not even out of Death Mountain yet."

"It's just a little farther. Look on the horizon. If you can see through the heatwave, there's a few buildings. We must be approaching a town. I think it'll only be another three hours at the pace we're going."

Young Link continued dragging his feet along with a loud groan. "Only three hours? Easy for you to say. You're not the one doing the work!"

"Look, I'd carry you if I could, but I don't have a physical body," the Hero said, a hint of empathy in his tone. "You have to do this on your own. But I'll tell you if I see anyone who can help."

Young Link rolled his eyes in response, saving his breath. He only took another two lagging steps before he fell forward and hit the rocky ground. He let out a small moan of pain and propped himself up on his elbows.

"You know, gods don't need food or water," a gentle voice said suddenly. "And they don't get tired."

Young Link grimaced at the words. "Hero, get rid of this jackass for me, would you?"

"Just because we're both inside your mind doesn't mean he can hurt me," the person chuckled. "In fact, I think that 'hero' you were talking to is sleeping peacefully right now. So don't even think about asking him for help."

"Damn." The Hero of Time let his elbows give way, his forehead hitting the hard ground. "I really freaking hate you."

"But I care deeply about you," the person replied softly.

"Yeah, 'cause I have your stupid mask," Young Link huffed, his voice muffled. "Just piss off."

"You'll die without me."

"So? I'm sure the Goddesses have lots of water for me." He peeked up, as if glaring at someone in anger. "And I'll leave you for some other dumbass to pick up." He reached behind him and unhooked the Fierce Deity's Mask from his belt. He propped his head up on his free hand and stared it in its blank eyes. "I should've left you in Termina."

"You thought about it," the Mask's voice replied. "But you were too scared. You knew someone else would be burdened with the darkness, so you took it yourself. You know, if you put that mask on, I'll let you take it off when you leave. You won't be stuck in that form forever."

"You're just gonna feed my heart darkness and make me suffer," Young Link scoffed. "How stupid do you think I am?"

"Oh, I don't think you're stupid. You must be smart enough to know that if you die here, I'll be free to find that precious little grandson of yours."

Young Link's eyes widened in fear. However, his expression quickly turned to one of rage. "Fine. You can make me look any way you want, but I'm not letting you take over my mind. Got it?"

"We'll see about that," the voice replied gently. "But not now. I want to play with you a little longer."

"Meaning you want to see me break slowly," Young Link translated, quirking an eyebrow. "Subtle."

"Why, thank you," the voice from the mask laughed, seemingly in good spirits.

Young Link was becoming annoyed with the sickly sweet tone of the voice. He could really tell what gender it was – either an adult woman or a young boy like himself – but he did know it wanted to consume his soul and break his "unbreakable" soul. It was a game to it. Not wanting to give the mask – even if it was the mask – another chance to speak, he shoved the mask on his face.

He had transformed into the Fierce Deity quite a few times when he didn't know the effects it had on him, but now that the effects were showing, the state of his mind was wearing away faster than ever. Even a few minutes in the Deity's form was dangerous. However, now he had no choice.

The transformation began like it always did: with a false sense of peace. Everything was quiet. Everything was relaxing. Young Link always did his best not to fall into the feeling, but he couldn't help it. Even a few seconds of peace was precious.

His temporary paradise was suddenly shattered by a sharp feeling piercing through his heart, feeling as if someone struck him in the chest with a sword. The agonizing pain grew from the area until it took over his entire body. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming, tasting blood as he did so. His bones began to crack and reform gruesomely. However, the darkness that began to fill his heart was ten times more painful. Scenes of the slaughter of people he knew and cared about flashed before his eyes. He did his best not to react, but seeing a bloodied Zelda at his feet didn't do much for his mental health.

"It's just an illusion," he told himself, his voice deepening. "It's not real." He shut his eyes tightly, but the images still remained. He laid in the same position, his fingernails scraping the ground, until the pain and hallucinations finally faded.

"Hey, kid," someone called groggily. "What just happened? I blacked out for a second." He gasped quietly when he noticed Young Link's current condition. "What the hell happened to you? Are you okay?"

Young Link –or the Fierce Deity, rather – sat up into a kneeling position. His blank, vacant stare surveyed the area in search of enemies. Luckily, there was no one around except this stupid voice in his head.

"Kid! Snap out of it, would you? We have to hurry back."

Oh, right. Hylia's Hero. Whenever Young Link became the Fierce Deity, his memories and thoughts became muddled. Good thing he had the Hero to remind his what he needed to do. He slowly got to his feet, not finding a need to be hasty, and continued his trek.

"Did someone force you into this form?" Hylia's Hero asked firmly. "Or did you do this on purpose? Tell me. I know you can talk."

The Fierce Deity's frown deepened slightly in irritation. "…To survive," he answered hesitantly.

"So you aren't thirsty anymore?" The Fierce Deity shook his head. Hylia's Hero sighed in relief. "Good. Make sure you take off the mask before you reach the town."

The Hero smartly decided to stay silent for the next few minutes of the walk. The Fierce Deity himself didn't think about much as he continued towards the town he saw in the distance. The travel was not only easier, but faster as his towering figure did not get tired and slow. It only took him about another hour to reach the small community on the outskirts of the mountain. He placed his hands on the side of his face to remove the mask.

"Hold it," Hylia's Hero stopped him. "Look over there. Someone's terrorizing the village."

The Fierce Deity focused his gaze on a small figure on a pedestal speaking to the frightened citizens. It appeared to be a floating cloak. There were no feet to support it, but long spindly arms were poking out of it. The Fierce Deity approached the village slowly, making a weak attempt to not appear menacing. However, he knew his neutral expression and blank eyes wouldn't give him a good impression. As he got closer to the cloak, he heard its words.

"If you don't want to have this village burned to cinders, tell me where the sorceress Lana is," he cackled in a raspy voice. "Do you all have a death wish?! Tell me before I get bored."

The people inched back from it hesitantly. A few mothers hugged their frightened children close while men stood defensively in front of their wives.

"We told you we don't know any Lana!" one husband shouted.

"Can't you at least spare our children?" his wife pleaded, cradling her crying infant.

"Why should I?" the cloak asked in annoyance. "They're just as worthless as you are. This is your last chance." A resounding silence was his response. "Fine! Be that way. Summon the Ki-"

"Stop."

The cloak blinked the huge eye in its hood, perplexed by the act of defiance. He turned to the man who denied him. "Eh?"

The Fierce Deity stood in the middle of the crowd. The people all parted for him, likely out of fear. His gaze was cast vacantly at the ground.

"I said stop," he repeated.

"Huh. It appears we have a demon among us," the cloak cackled.

"Not a demon," the Fierce Deity corrected. "A god."

The cloak stared for a moment along with the crowd. He blinked his eye, turning into a mouth, and laughed loudly at his claim. "A god!" he repeated with a cackle. "He says he's a god! Keep dreaming. You're fun, though, so I'll be your opponent. Call me Wizzro." He levitated from his pedestal closer to his adversary. "Now show me what a 'god' can do!" He held out his thin arms, purple spheres of fog appearing in his palms. He sent them flying towards the Fierce Deity at impossible speed. The Deity simply summoned his double-helix blade and hit the magic back towards Wizzro. The wizard wasn't quick enough to dodge and was sent flying back, crashing into a wall violently.

The throng of people let out a cheer, finding the new man was not an enemy, but rather a savior.

"Yeah!" one little boy shouted enthusiastically. "Kick his ass!"

His mother instantly pulled him back, embarrassed, though the Fierce Deity barely noticed him. "That sounds familiar," he heard Hylia's Hero mutter. "To your right."

The Fierce Deity quickly threw his right arm outward without looking and hit another sphere of dark magic away. People leapt out of the way as the ball of energy was flung towards them and slammed into a home. Another inspiriting shout rippled through the throng. Wizzro balled his fists in frustration.

"Damn you!" he hissed. "I'll send you to hell where demons belong!"

He raised his hand, sending a momentary blank beam of light into the air. A swarm of Stalchildren teleported in a pixelated red cloud. The crowed began to panic slightly once more, backing up so the Fierce Deity could do the dirty work. As he swung his heavy sword wildly, he failed to notice Wizzro beginning to teleport away with a triumphant cackle.

"Kid!" Hylia's Hero alerted him. "Wizzro's getting away. If you don't hurry he'll escape."

At his command, the Fierce Deity sprinted towards the wizard at inhuman speed, but even he wasn't fast enough. Just as he thrust his blade towards his enemy, Wizzro disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke. The Fierce Deity lowered his sword, seeing how it was useless, and went back to destroying the Stalchildren. The citizens, now reinvigorated, let out a battle cry and began to battle the monsters using nothing but the objects around them. One brave old woman even knocked a Stalchild's head off with her cane. With the help of the villagers, the Stalchildren took no more than a half-hour to wipe out. They were so weak it became like a game. Eventually everyone was laughing and seeing who could defeat the most monsters. Soon it came time when only one trembling Stalchild remained.

"Do you want to get it, Michael?" a young mother asked her young child. The raven-haired boy nodded eagerly. She put her hands under his arms and lifted him up to the eyelevel of the Stalchild. Michael held up a frying pan he grabbed from the house and knocked the monster's head clean off. The Stalchild stumbled around aimlessly.

"Hey, mister!" Michael called to the Fierce Deity. "You wanna finish this one off?"

The Deity wordlessly approached the headless Stalchild and raised his sword over its head. He brought it down heavily, smashing the monster to bits. The crowd let out yet another victorious cheer, though some were worried about cleaning up the scattered bones around the town. They shouted their thanks over one another to their savior. The Fierce Deity could tell Hylia's Hero was smiling contently in his mind.

"How can we ever thank you?" a woman asked with a grin.

"…I just need water for my journey," he answered in his usual monotone.

"Of course!" A housewife sent her little girl into the family store to grab a few canteens full of fresh water. The wife held them out to the Deity, who took them with little hesitation. "Don't worry about the canteens. We have plenty of them. A whole store full, in fact."

"Do you need anything else?" her older teenage daughter asked. "You saved our lives. It's the least we can do."

"Some food," the Fierce Deity answered. The younger girl immediately rushed into the store once more, coming out with plenty of bags, presumably filled with food. She handed it to him timidly, a shy smile crossing her lips. The Deity nodded his thanks and walked out of the village, followed by thankful cheers. He waited until he was a considerable distance away from the town, which he judged by the ceasing of the joyful shouts, and placed his supplies on the ground. He reached for the mask and slipped it off his face. His body was consumed by a warm, comforting feeling as he smoothly transformed back into a child.

He blinked his eyes at the sun, a dazed expression on his face. The image of Hylia's Hero appeared before him, wearing a sly smile and crossing his arms. Young Link stared blankly at him for a minute before letting out a short, breathy giggle. It escalated quickly until he was outright laughing so hard he had to hold his stomach. Hylia's Hero was laughing right along with him, a rare glimpse at a side of him beyond his laid back demeanor.

"Did you see that old lady with the cane?!" Young Link bent over, his laughter getting louder at the thought. "Man, she was more of a badass than I was!"

"The toddlers were better than you," the Hero teased playfully. "Hell, they were better than me!"

Their laughing fit continued for what seemed like an eternity. It echoed in the empty space of the featureless land. Young Link looked up once it finally died down to see that the Hero was gone once more.

"You did good, kid," he heard his counterpart say. "You don't mind me saying that, do you?"

Young Link allowed himself a small smile. "No. You're the only exception for that." He gathered the supplies the villagers gave him in his arms, which was much more difficult now given his small size, and began to start once more towards Cia's temple.

*Fierce Deity for the WIN! I love that guy! Amazing, isn't he? ^^ I don't really have a lot to say. 0_0' Oh, well. We got to see Wizzro, who I honestly don't like very much. :/ But that's only because he's my least favorite warrior to play as. I'm a Link/Young Link person. :3 Uh…stay tuned for the next chapter! Review and, uh, you'll get a cookie that Volga baked.

K bye.*