Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with Nintendo, I have no claim to any of the characters in the story below (except for the name Zartaris, the Goddess Darlen, the God Julios, and the Goddess Laura). Shigeru Miyamoto and Nintendo own the Legend of Zelda series, not me.

…all will be as it was here, for Zartaris has returned to make my world the paradise it was. All will be as it was in the heavens, for I feel that they truly have changed, I will be forgiven, and my intuition is rarely wrong. All will be as it was in my family, for Vulcan will return. I will resume my place as a protector of the people, of all mortals; I can only hope my family will swallow their pride and see the truth. Once again, paradise will return.

My priorities were clear. To accomplish my goals, step one was to regain my powers as a god. Step two was equally obvious; I had to resurrect Vulcan, and then last but definitely not least, step three was to protect the poor, abused mortals, those people I still loved. This time though, I would use diplomacy on my fellow gods instead of mind control or military might to ensure their proper treatment. My goals were simple and well planned, so my goals would be an easy matter to accomplish.

Yeah, right!

Obviously being trapped in a mask for a few thousand years had made me overly optimistic about my release. As I strode into Clock Town, I had expected a warm 'welcome home.' At least one person would say that, I thought. Why not be happy that the benevolent Zartaris had returned to his beloved Termina? Simple reason: all the people I had known had been dead the past few thousand years.

So when I strode into Clock Town, I can say with certainty that my welcome was a complete disaster. The sight of a giant warrior god walking into the marketplace, cloaked with the Black Armor and armed with the Legend's Flame, made most people run. Those who were left ran when I walked up to one of them and asked, "What century is this?" I must have resembled a lunatic to them.

Then the guards came. Normally, I could have used my power as a god to escape the predicament, but I had used up nearly every ounce of power I had had within me to break free of the Fierce Deity Mask; I was still an immortal, but I was at their mercy. I went with them to the prison, and soon I found myself alone in a cell. I felt betrayed, but fortunately, I have always had a very patient personality, and instead of having a fit (and appearing even more insane to my jailers), I sat and decided I couldn't blame them for their sacrilegious act.

I rethought my plans. Before I reassumed my position as god of Termina, I would have to find a quick way to regenerate my powers. Once that was done, I would ascend to the heavens and (hopefully) regain my old place with my family. Then I could resurrect Vulcan and become the loving god I had been to my people.

Unfortunately, it could take months to regain my old strength; in fact, without aid it was very possible I would never be as strong as I had been. I did not want to risk that, so I decided on a course of action that could fix many of my problems. Though I knew my family definitely had some anger against me, I waited for the jailers to leave for the night, and then I kneeled and prayed for aid.

I waited for hours after my prayer ended. Though I was drained of power, I could still feel what was going on in the heavens; they were having a big argument, wondering whether or not to even bother to answer my plea.

I had started losing hope, but then in front of me, I saw an image. It was a familiar face, but I had lost so much power that I couldn't even peer into my past to remember who it was. "Who are you?" I said.

The face turned away for a moment, and I could hear laughing. "See, I was right! We should help him; after all, he is harmless now. Not only does he have no power, he doesn't remember a thing of the past." She turned back towards me.

"My name is not the issue. Your prayer is. What do you want?"

I saw that maintaining the illusion was a good idea if I wanted to become what I had been. "I don't know. I woke, but I don't remember sleeping. Please, answer my question, what should I do?"

Whoever it was laughed. "Relax. We'll help you."

As the day dawned, I found myself surrounded by a bluish beam. Just as I teleported to the heavens, the jailer entered. I wish I could have seen the look on his face, but before I could, I was beamed home.

The instant I could see again, I was in a garden, surrounded by several gods. I looked around with feigned bewilderment (thankfully, a god can't read the mind of another god), and managed to recognize Julios, my father, and my sister Darlen. I tried to remember the others, but their names were lost to eternity.

The gods circled around me, as if I was livestock at an auction and they were prospective buyers. "He has the Legend's Flame," said one of them.

"Indeed he does, and he wears the Black Armor," my father said, still examining me.

"If he wants to restart the conflict, he's perfectly equipped," remarked Darlen. "I say we put him back in a mask before he causes trouble."

Without a flinch I continued my seeming stunned bewilderment.

"I say we keep him in the dark and just keep him around the place," the goddess next to my father said, "I couldn't bear turning out our son again."

"Very well. We'll keep him up here for a while. But only for your sake, Laura."

Now I remembered who the woman next to my father was. She was my mother, and while I wanted to display my joy at seeing her again, I kept under control.

My father turned to the three goddesses who were standing at his side. "Din, Nayru, Farore, he was your favorite cousin. He is your responsibility."

Most of the gods turned and left. I watched as my cousins walked to me, somewhat disdainfully. Farore looked at me and simply said, "Come."

So I followed my cousins mindlessly. I walked, making sure to simulate amazement as I walked the heavenly palaces. I grabbed an object from the ground and ogled. "What's this? It is surely a beautiful rarity!"

"Darlen was right; his mind has gone," Farore giggled with Din. Nayru actually bothered to answer, "That is a floor tile."

Indeed it was. It was solid gold and I had lifted it from the ground. "It is surely heavenly!" I bubbled like a little child. "May I keep it? Like a teddy bear?"

I watched as my cousins lost control and cracked up. I dropped the tile and followed them.

"I suppose the first priority is to get him to bed," Nayru said. "After all, he probably hasn't slept since he escaped that mask."

Din and Farore quickly agreed, and I was led to their palace, then to a guest bedroom. After they left, I got into the bed and began plotting how to get my power back. Fortunately, I have never run out of creative ideas yet (I consider creative ideas and creative inspirations two different things), and I realized a marvelous plan.

When I had surrendered to the other gods, they had taken most of my power. The solution was simple: take it back! I would simply pay each a visit while that god slept. Then, I would extract my power from them; each god's power is different, so I would be able to recognize my own from theirs. So as darkness fell, I got up.

"So you aren't as senile as you act, are you, Zartaris?" Farore stepped out of the shadows of my darkened room.

I saw that the gig was up. "No, I'm not. I remember it all now, Farore."

"You're fortunate that I'm the only one who has realized the truth," she said, "You're even more fortunate in that I'm Hyrule's goddess of Courage. Courage and Nobility often go hand in hand."

"So what does that mean for me?" I sat on the bed. "Are you going to turn me in?"

"It means that I'm not going to turn you in," she paused. "It also means that I'm going to help you secretly regain your powers."

I could not hide an ear to ear grin as I heard the last statement. "You are? How?"

"By giving you the powers I took from you on that fateful day, not so long ago." She took my hand gently. "Concentrate. I trust you."

I could feel my power within her. The amount was small, but it was something; as I concentrated, I felt it return to me in a rush of bright light. I released her hand.

"You have no idea how much your help means to me, Farore. You single-handedly help restore my faith in my fellow immortals."

Farore nodded sympathetically. "I understand." Once again she paused. "Actually, after we sent you away, most of us gods developed a certain sneaking admiration for you. I admire you for your courage, Nayru admires you for the wisdom in what you did, and Din admires the power you exercised. I doubt if your path back to what you were will be as difficult as it looks. Just be careful."

"How are the gods treating their creations? The mortals?"

Farore groaned. "Not that again. Didn't you learn anything from being imprisoned in that mask? Do you still pursue that vain goal? Do you ask to be imprisoned again?"

"I want the mortals treated well. We created them; we owe them an obligation to treat them well. Is it not so?"

"You're right. Absolutely correct. I take care of my children now, and so does Din and Nayru. However," she said sadly, "some of our fellow gods feel that mortals are playthings. They use and abuse them for entertainment. But if you rekindle that old war, it will lead to disaster."

"I understand. I have no intentions of repeating my mistake."

Her relief was obvious. "That's good. Now I must go; as for you, do what you must."

I certainly intended to follow that statement to the letter. I would not fail in my goals again.