Link slowly roused from his uncomfortable sleep. All night images of Zelda's death plagued his mind, keeping him at a miserable unrest. Images from that night, and images contorted and manipulated by his own imagination relentlessly tormented his mind. Images of her face, shocked, horrified, cruelly happy, a different face each time took its turn replaying a death it seemed fit for its seer. One such face had the audacity to twist Zelda's last words to those of "I hate you", causing more anguish and pain than all the other dreams together. With the horrible lack of sleep Link couldn't tell what parts of what scenes were real or imagined, nor did he try.

Despite the weights on his eyes, Link took note of his surroundings. He was in a large skin tent that climbed up and up to end in a point, like a cone. The base was wide, for four sleeping bags littered the ground. Three were empty. Dark, thin shadows vertically lined the curved walls where wooden supports rested on the outside. An orange glow painted one side of the tent, and the soft sound of wood crackling in a fire drifted through the thick hide walls. Every now and then a shadow would move across the wall as someone outside kept moving here and there around the site. Link closed his eyes again and listened to the conversation taking place around the fire.

"Here, lass, take some more soup," a heavily accented voice offered. "You look hungry tonight."

"Thanks," came Jesika's soprano voice. Link sighed in relief: at least she hadn't died. "I know this is rude to ask, but are you two...? You seem to always be together, no matter where you are."

There was a pause, and then mirthful laughter filled the silence. "No, no, lass. Alamatar and I are just traveling companions. Nothing more than good friends. But if anyone were to ask that question, it should be me. I've never seen two people huddled that close together like you and the general except two lovers."

"We are *not* in love!" Jesika protested as she understood what his words were implying. "It was cold; I needed a body to lay against. My small body won't keep me warm. Not in cold weather like that."

"Alright, lass, I believe you," he said, a hint of mock-disbelief in his voice. A large figure stood up and walked in front of the light, all but blocking the glow of the fire from view. Link assumed this was the man conversing with Jesika. He walked with a pot-like shadow in his hand to the edge of the light, and a splash as the contents fell upon the ground. "Can't keep recin herbs cooking too long before they go bad," was his excuse. "We better make our way to the tent; it's getting late. Tomorrow, we'll wake up your friend before we leave, so no one has to carry him. He's not the lightest of fellows."

A hiss outside as the fire cursed the water for putting it out, and the shuffling of feet got louder and louder until it stopped just outside the tent. Link saw three figures enter through the flap: one a bulking form, much taller and more muscular than Link and the other two around the same size. With the darkness the smaller shadows looked so much alike that Link couldn't tell Jesika from the other.

Link closed his eyes but promptly opened them when he felt a hand placed on his forehead. It was a warm, womanly touch, soft and gentle. He felt the hand brush aside a stray strand of his hair and trail down his face. The thin fingers carefully caressed his cheek for a minute before they finally disappeared. His face felt cold as the warmth from her hand slowly dissipated, leaving only the chills of the night. Link turned on his side to face the skin wall and silently drifted off to sleep.

The soft chirps of birds stirred Link from his restful sleep, his best sleep since the Battle of Bolragade. Light flooded through the open flap and shone on the leather walls. The tent was completely empty except for him and his sleeping bag.

A surge of pain shot through his head as he sat up. Clutching his hand to the side of his head, Link got out of the bag and made his way into the daylight. The bright light made him squint, and the cool morning air felt cold against his bare chest.

"Link?" someone asked. Walking towards him was Jesika, a relieved and concerned look on her face. "Link, are you okay?" She guided him around the tent to where four logs had been arranged and circled a fire pit. Low flames flickered up and down the black wood; obviously this wood had been burning for quite some time.

He sat down on the log nearest him and accepted a bowl of stew. Looking at the charred, dead grass under his bare feet brought back everything that happened in its entirety. The screams from the Malchadites as they were incinerated, and, even more painful, the death of his beloved. Nothing will ever cause him to forget that. "How long have I been sleeping?" he wearily asked.

Jesika sat herself down beside him and gazed at his face. "About three days straight. We tried many times to rouse before, but you wouldn't wake up. Just this morning when we tried again and you still wouldn't wake, we were getting worried."

Silence reined upon the two for a while, before Link finally asked, "Who were those people you were talking to last night?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, you don't know anything that's happened since...that night." She filled her own bowl of stew and began to eat it. "They're two travelers," she said between spoonfuls. "One is a very skilled swords fighter--like you--named Belgard, and the other...well, I'm not sure what she is, except she knows a great many things about Malchadia. Her name is Alamatar.

"If it weren't for them passing through this area that night, we would have found ourselves in a Malchadite prison camp. The day after they found us, a small fight between Belgard and five soldiers happened right over there." She pointed to the other side of the clearing where much of the grass was pushed flat by heavy, booted feet. "I'm surprised you didn't hear that and wake up."

"Where are they?"

"Uh..." Jesika look baffled by the question. "Well, I'm not really sure. They said they were going to check ahead for trouble and that they would still be in hearing distance, but other than that, I don't know."

Link resumed his silence and swam his fork through the broth, pushing aside the vegetables and noodles. "What's wrong? Aren't you hungry?" Jesika placed a concerned hand on his shoulder.

"No, not right now." Setting the bowl on the ground, Link stood up. "Where's Zelda? Where is she buried?"

About to protest, but decided stifling her words would be better, Jesika stood up, and, taking Link by the hand, she led him through a self-made path that ended at a blue lake. On the shore of the lake a mound of rocks stood and a small, yellow Triforce was painted on the largest of the rocks; the grave of the Princess of Hyrule. Link made his way down the cold sand and past many wilting plants to the pyramid of stones and stood, taking in the pile as a whole and down to the smallest of pebbles.

"Would you like to be left alone?" Jesika asked, still standing on the path. When Link nodded his head she turned around, a slight shake in her shoulders. He didn't know if she was crying, but right now he didn't care.

Once again the rocks received his full attention as he carefully lifted each one off its resting place and set it aside. Each stone felt slick and smooth to the touch yet didn't slip from its place at rest. Amidst all the stones rested Zelda's quiescent body. Her dress was clean of blood and smooth of wrinkle. The only dirt on her face was that dropped by the rocks. Even her hair had been combed and gleamed majestically in the sun.

Link knelt by her side and took her hand in his. It was cold to the touch, but he didn't know if that was caused by the weather or death. Nonetheless he gripped her hand firmly. For a while he sat there, gazing at her pallid face before finally speaking. "You know, Zel, throughout all my years of fighting I have seen many people lose their loved ones. Husbands lose wives, mothers their daughters, and friends each other, and each time I tell them it's not the end, they will somehow get through this. I tell them to forget about the past and the pain and concentrate on the future; they were meant to live for a reason, and mourning day after day will not help them discover what that reason is. But you know, I just can't take my own advice." He gave a small, sad laugh. "I never really knew how it felt to lose a loved one myself until now. Now I realize what suffering those people went through and can appreciate their pain. I feel it myself.

"I feel it my fault," Link confessed, "for what happened that night. If it weren't for my idiocy you might still be alive. I hope, wherever you are, you can forgive me of my actions." He fell silent again and stared at her beautiful face. In the depths of all his turmoil and sorrow a little glimmer of emotion flared. It wasn't very large, but large enough that Link could feel the cold grasp of guilty despair slightly loosen its hold on his heart. Link didn't know if it were Zelda's forgiveness--he hoped, really hoped it was--or him relieving his burden, but the feeling was there, prying guilt's fingers away from his desolate body.

Taking the wedding ring off his finger, a gold band worked with silver with three glittering triangle diamonds touching at their points, he placed it in her white-gloved hand. "I'm not breaking our marriage; I want you to have this as a remembrance," he said as he took her other hand and clasped the two together, resting them on her breast. Deftly, he untied the scarlet ribbon around her waist and brushed the dirt off. Then he tied it to his left arm, his sword arm.

As he began to replace the gray stones over his wife, he instead threw them to the side. I can't bury her under rocks. It just doesn't seem right. Placing an arm beneath her knees and back, Link picked her up and waded through the small lake. Tiny ripples coursed over the surface as Link broke the tranquility of the water. The cold water stung like daggers on his legs and feet, but he barely noticed.

Link continued into the middle of the pool even though his feet couldn't touch ground. The bottom of the lake seemed so far down where he tread, but the water didn't hinder Link's view of the floor, not down to even the grains of sand. "Well, Zelda, I guess this is goodbye." Link slowly lowered his head to hers and gave her a light kiss. A sensation of warmth flowed through his body, and Link pressed harder, wanting to stay in his place of bliss, dreading returning to the world of destruction and despair. The world he experienced all too well.

But Link knew he had to return, knew he had to do something, anything, to win back his riven kingdom. Maybe even take Hyrule as his responsibility if a living member of the Royal Family could not be found. As he broke the kiss four words crossed into his mind: It's not your fault. How they came to his mind he knew not--they sounded as if they were spoken by the trees--and he almost laughed; the memories of what happened were all too fresh in his thoughts, still picking at him in the dark recesses of his mind. There was no way he could forget what happened so early, so soon. And those memories were caused by him and him alone. It *is* my fault.

Bringing his attention back to what was in front of him, Link wanted to finish his business in the lake. "Goodbye, Zelda." Gently, ever so gently, he brought his arms out from under her legs and behind her back and watched as she slowly drifted to the floor of the lake. Golden hair fanned out to her sides, catching the bright rays of light, reflecting them in every direction. Fish, small and large, swam out of her way until she finally rested on the ground. Small waves of sand coursed across the bottom, losing their strength until they were no more.

Tears in his eyes, Link pulled out his blue ocarina, *the* Ocarina, and played a small tune, a tune he learned years ago when he first met the princess, before making his way to the shore. Despite the coldness of the water Link had no trouble moving his muscles to carry him across the quiet lake.

On the shore, a pure white dove bearing the symbol of the Triforce stood, gazing at the spot in the lake Link was just at, almost sadly. It was one of the many birds from Zelda's menagerie. In its yellow beak was a strand of vine from a plant Link did not know the name of, just the meaning: consolation. It was a gift given by a person to someone who mourned for a loved one.

Upon sight of Link the dove glided and perched itself on his shoulder. It craned its neck down, and he brought his hand up to receive the green vine. Before Link could do anything else the bird spread its wings and flew into the sky, leaving a single white feather fluttering through the air.

Stuffing both vine and feather into his pocket, Link made his way up the dirt path. At the top stood Jesika holding his black tunic in her slender arms. Resting against nearby trees were his weapons: sword, bow and quiver, and hookshot. Link didn't know how she carried them all the way to the lake, nor did he want to. "Are you okay?" she asked, handing him his clothes.

Nodding, Link shrugged into his tunic. The warmth felt good against his cold skin. "I'll be fine." He finished equipping his weapons and made his way down the dirt path, Jesika right behind him. He hoped she didn't see the mistiness of his eyes. As they walked birds chirped and insects buzzed; the only breaking of the silence besides an occasional twig snapping.

It was not an uncomfortable silence, but a silence because neither could think of anything to say. Any thought of friendly conversation was immediately squelched by the pressing quietness. Most of the trek was like that until a thought came to Jesika. "Link, why did Malchadia attack Hyrule?"

This simple, innocent question caused Link to pause in mid-stride. Moments he stood there, thinking, until he resumed his walking. "I don't know. I know nothing about Malchadia or their king." He sighed. "I don't even know his name; all that was Zelda's responsibility. All I can remember is that when he arrived at Hyrule to sign the Treaty of Nations he seemed like a nice, caring person. But that was two years ago. Who knows what changes a person goes through in that time." As Link finished his speaking they neared the edge of camp.

"Link? I have one more thing to say," she confessed. "When you were sleeping, I agreed with Alamatar and Belgard about staying with them and following them around the forests of Malchadia. Since we don't know our way around. They said we can stay with them as long as we like, so we don't have to stay with them if you don't want to. I hope you're not too mad?"

Link almost smiled. Almost. "Just like Zelda. Never tell me anything until just two minutes before it happens. No, I'm not mad; it saves me the trouble of having to ask to travel with them." Link walked into the camp. But I will not follow them around the woods forever. Once I figure out how to save Hyrule, I will do it with or without their help.

The first one to spot them was Belgard. He was a man even taller than Link first thought when he saw his shadowy figure, standing at just an inch or two below seven feet, and much more muscular. "Ah, General--"

"Link. Just Link."

"Link," he finished a bit awkwardly. "Good to see you up. Didn't know what we were going to do with you still asleep. You're a heavy one to carry."

Link was about to respond, but Jesika chimed in. "When are we leaving?" Belgard gave Jesika a quizzical look and nodded his head toward Link. "He knows I agreed to stay with you and he's fine with it."

Belgard stood to his full height, a large pack held in his hands. Supplies nearly overflowed from the opening at the top, and points of all sizes poked at the canvas, making it look more spiked rock than an actual pack. "Well, good. Being with us is the safest place for you guys to be. Hey, Alamatar, we're ready to leave."

A young, red-eyed girl who looked no older than twenty-one walked out from a copse of black and green trees. Brown hair flowed over her white gown and a midnight-black cloak the same shade as Belgard's hung loosely around her slim body. A wooden staff, smooth from use, was in her hands. "You must be Link," she said, approaching the black-clad general. Standing on tiptoe Alamatar gave him a kiss on his right cheek, and the next thing Link knew a large pack was shoved into his hands as the chestnut-brown walked over to join Jesika. Almost immediately the two women struck up a conversation and walked through the trees, leaving the men behind.

"Don't worry, lad," Belgard said, clapping a hand on Link's shoulder. "She does that to everyone." Whether he was talking about the kiss or the pack, Link didn't know, but he followed Belgard out of the clearing and back into the forest, almost stumbling over the weight of the large canvas bag; he still hadn't got all of his strength back from the previous night's fight. He was glad to get away from that awful clearing.

Over the following days Link stayed away from conversing with his fellow travelers. Instead, he wallowed in his own thoughts and ignored his surroundings. The only he thing he bothered to ask about was where they were going. "Melkaban," Alamatar answered the first day. "We have to buy some supplies, otherwise we won't get very far. Not in these Malchadite woodlands; no food and vicious beasts is a combination that will kill even the best of fighters."

Days passed and so did Link's guilt, slowly. The sadness was still there but it was bearable, and he knew it would go away with time. Once the memories of his wife were just memories and not what seemed to happen just the day before.

With each new morning a brighter mood enveloped him as he could finally put those four words to use. He knew that what happened wasn't his fault, that the Malchadites would have killed them anyway had it been in that clearing or in the Malchadite kingdom itself. He knew that Zelda died less painfully, both emotionally and physically, at the hands of the soldiers than she would have at the hands of the King. But he still couldn't get over the thought of maybe him being able to help his wife escape to freedom with her life if they had been thrown down in the depths of the dungeons in Malchadia. Even that thought became less and less as the days went on and the memories of his wife, smiling and happy, filled the space of his guilt and sorrow.





"That was close," Link muttered, narrowly avoiding a large, bear-like creature's broad paw. Five curved claws swung down on the spot he was just standing in. An angry snarl roared from its mouth when it realized it missed its target, then lunged again.

This time, before the paw came close to hitting, Link jumped out of the way and brought Galadhad down on its sinewy shoulder. Screams of pain rose through the forest, almost deafening, as the beast tried to stop the blood flowing from its wound, but in vain. Link didn't ease on the creature as he brought blow after swift blow down on its body. Blood erupted from each new wound and its moans didn't decrease in loudness.

With one last effort, the bear lunged at Link, sending him flying into the trunk of a tree, knocking the wind out of him. Link felt wet warmth on his fingers and saw his leg with five long cuts running from his thigh to his knee; the pain made his leg feel like it had been tossed around on sharp rocks. The animal lumbered clumsily over the sword lying far out of Link's reach and stared in the Hylian's face. Link could smell the horrid stench of its breath and gagged. The creature seemed to take pleasure in his discomfort and opened its mouth wide, revealing two rows of sharp, jagged teeth.

Closing his eyes, Link drew his hookshot from his waist and quickly placed the harpoon in its mouth. The beast slumped to the ground instantly as the shot pierced its brain, and, finding nothing to latch onto, the deadly metal spike retracted back to its base. Link tried to push the heavy creature off his legs, but the animal was too heavy to even budge.

"Link! Are you alright?" Jesika shouted, rushing up to where he lay under the monstrous bear. Running up behind her were Alamatar and Belgard, his sword drawn and in hand while Alamatar held her long staff. Jesika, too, pushed on the still form's body, and came up with the same results. "Help me get this thing off him."

The three got to one side of the animal, and Link wrapped his hands around the beast's shoulder stub, lips curling when his fingers touched wet tissue and blood, and heaved on the count of three, succeeding in throwing the corpse off Link. "You okay, lad?" Belgard asked, helping Link to his feet. "I've never seen anyone take on a thrakkan before and survive, except me and Alamatar. Not even the Rising Suns."

"Next time," Link wheezed, "tell me *before* I walk into one of their dens that a ten-foot bear lives in it." He took a step and nearly fell flat on his face if it weren't for the two women catching him before he landed. Link cut off a yelp of pain and clutched a gauntleted hand to his right leg, feeling even more blood than before.

"You're hurt!" Jesika exclaimed, glancing at his leg. "Did it bite you?"

"No. The thing clawed me." Link could have sworn he kept his distance well enough to avoid being hit by the beast's razor-sharp claws and silently berated himself for his wound. "Stupid bear must have tore clean through a muscle." Link allowed Alamatar and Jesika to guide him over to a fallen tree where he sat, rubbing his hurt leg, glad to get off his feet. "Stupid animal."

"Fortunately for you," Alamatar began, sitting down next to him, "we are only a day away from Melkaban. If you don't see a doctor soon, the poison will take effect, and you don't want to die of thrakkan poisoning." She took a moment to inspect Link's leg, poking it here and there, causing Link's face to twist in pain, before finally saying something. "Belgard, this is where we'll set up camp tonight. Go fill this basin with water."

Link placed two fingers in a hole in his pants made by the sharp talons and widened it. When he stopped tearing, thought it was wide enough, Alamatar finished it by yanking the entire leg off, throwing it down on logs strewn in a small pit; firewood. The wound was hideously ugly. Black blood dripped down his leg to soak into his leather boots and strands of skin rested raw against his leg, strands torn from the five deep gashes running down his thigh to rest above his knee. Jesika held a hand over her mouth and looked in a different direction, while Alamatar gently touched a wound and Link nearly doubled over; the pain was more intense than he thought from looking at the cuts.

"As I thought," Alamatar stated. "The poison has already settled in."

"What's *that* supposed to mean?" Jesika demanded, not at all happy with Alamatar's words.

"It means we have maybe have one day to get Link to a doctor. Maybe two. After that..." She shook her head. "No one's ever survived past two days of poisoning." Belgard came through the trees, interrupting Alamatar's next words. In his hands was the wooden basin, clear blue water sloshing over the brim. "Thank you." She set the bowl down on the floor and Belgard began setting up the tent and starting a small fire. "Link, hold onto something; that might ease the pain a little."

She dabbed a small cloth in the water and pressed it to a gash running down Link's leg. If he thought just her touching it was painful, this was excruciating. The cold water stung down to the marrow of his bones, feeling worse than having a dagger stabbed in his leg, leaving a prickle that tickled his entire body with pain. The only thing that took his mind off the hurting was punching a fist through the trunk of the tree he sat on. Splintered wood sprayed into the air, bouncing off his face to the ground.

But just as soon as the pain came, it went. Link looked at his wounds and saw the blood was gone, leaving only the black wound. The raw skin still throbbed painfully, but it was slowly subsiding to a moderate ache. The gash was clean of blood but it still welled up on the surface, glossing the black cut. Link didn't know if his eyes were tricking him, but his leg, too, looked a light shade of black.

"Jesika," Alamatar said, handing her the black-spotted cloth, "take care of Link and make sure his leg doesn't bleed too badly. I'm going to start dinner."

"Hey, I can take care of myself," protested Link, but Alamatar paid no attention and walked over to start burning the wood. It crackled and popped under the flame, and Link's pant leg charred and turned to ashes, blowing away in the wind.

An hour later Link still sat on the wooden log. His rear was starting to get sore from the hard wood, but his mind was taken from the discomfort by the bowl of stewed meat and herbs in his hand. Everyone else ate a large slab of meat; Alamatar insisted on him eating the herbs. She said it would help with the tiredness and lessen the effects of the poison.

"Link, you better get some sleep," Jesika said concernedly. "I don't want you getting sick because your body is too exhausted to fight off the poisons." She took his hand and helped him to his feet, although he didn't lean too much on her; she was trying to help but his weight was too heavy for her to be able to support herself. The two walked to the tent, and moments later he was asleep under blankets. Jesika didn't come out of the tent, either.

"Link, wake up." A voice cut into his head, racking his brain. "Wake up, we have to go," the voice pleaded, shaking him harder. Link opened his eyes, and the light, still not fully bright, made the ache in his head worse.

"Jesika, is that you?" He had to squint to be able to see anything. What he saw, though, swam under his eyes, distorting the colors while spots lined his vision, blocking out much of what he was able to see. Exhaustion lingered on his body, making it hard for him to remain sitting on his propped elbow. His wound still pricked with pain. "Help me up," he said when his eyes slightly focused on her worried face.

This time Link did not help her when she tried to pull him to his feet, and she toppled over on his chest, causing him to gasp for breath. "Belgard!" she called. "Help me get Link up; he's too heavy for me." Link felt another set of arms join those that were already on his body, and he was lurched to his feet.

"You don't look too good, lad," Belgard said, but Link barely noticed. The pain in his head was even more intense, and he used all his concentration on just trying to keep it from splitting his head in two. When the hands let go he stumbled, but they quickly grabbed on again. "Well, looks like you won't be walking anywhere." Belgard hoisted Link over a shoulder and walked out of the tent into the orange morning sun.

"How's Link?" another voice asked, this time Alamatar's, but she answered her own question when she placed a small hand to his forehead. "He's burning with fever! We must get him to Melkaban, and soon. Forget about the tent, we can get a new one." Alamatar and Jesika walked in front with Belgard struggling to keep Link over his shoulder in back.

Hours passed and Jesika became more and more worried. Link's fever ravaged his entire body, enervating him more than he was already till simply keeping his eyes open was too difficult. Sweat glistened on his face, but Jesika would wash it away only to rewash it minutes later. Belgard, too, was feeling the effects of carrying Link's body, for now he walked with a slump and wheezed every other step. His muscles were becoming very sore from lifting Link's weight.

By the time the sun hung golden, just barely over the horizon, Jesika was frantic with worry. "How long until Melkaban? You said it was only a day...away." As she finished her statement, the wooden and grass and rock rooftops came into view, towering over the green trees. Jesika almost wept with joy. "Come on. We're almost there. Oh, Link, please don't give up now."

"Jesika," Alamatar said coolly, a hint of relief in her red eyes, "run down to the city gates and get a few guards or merchants or whoever you find up here right away. Belgard can't carry Link any further. Now run." As Jesika took off down the dirt path, Belgard rested Link's body on the ground. "He's burning up," she said to Belgard after placing a hand on his hot face. She stripped Link of all his weapons, laying them in a neat pile next to his resting body.

"Alamatar," he said, all traces of mirth usually in his voice now gone. "Under normal circumstances I wouldn't ask this, but what if you...? Just a small boost would help greatly. Even small enough that the side effects would not be too severe."

"Do you think I haven't thought of that?" she demanded sharply, but immediately took back her words and lessened the sharpness of her voice. "I'm sorry. These hours have been as hard on me as on Jesika." She sat down next to Belgard. "Many times I've wondered if I should just give him a little help, but each time I thought better of it. He's a strong man, Link is, but in his weakened state I think even a small dose might kill him. My trying to Cure him would do more in aiding the toxins than in killing them. It's better just to let a doctor rid him of the poison than me."

Belgard sighed. "You're right, lass. Even the strongest bodies have been no match for the Taint. It's only a shame we have to rely on the help of villagers and doctors. Especially if Malchadia has posted wanted signs for him; he might be recognized, and that would not go well for us. Any of us." Alamatar nodded her agreement and rested her head on Belgard's arm, but bolted to her feet, white skirts flying under her black cloak, staff in hand. Belgard was at her side in an instant, hand on the hilt of his sword. The two remained ready to fight until the familiar face of Jesika and three men strode to join them. Each man wore the fire-hawk emblem of Shiall, a group of mercenaries who lent their services to other cities and nations for as much pay as they could get, never questioning an order given.

"I got as many men as I could," Jesika said breathlessly. "I hope it helps." She eyed Link, unconscious and being carried by two of the Shiall, grunting under the work, and went pale at his horrible condition. The other man picked up the sword and other weapons and headed down the street after the first two Shiall. "Will he be okay?"

"I'm not sure," Alamatar sighed and followed the mercenaries down the path. She felt it unnecessary to restate the fact that no one had ever survived past the second day of thrakkan poisoning. In her hand she brought out a brown leather sack, faded from age and wear, and fingered a few coins. Coins the Shiall would most likely demand once they got Link to a doctor.

The moon slightly peeked over the tops of the trees, bright white in the cloudless sky, serene, when the party reached the building with a red bird painted white on the sign. The doctor's house. Belgard pounded heavily on the wooden door, causing it to shake on its loose hinges. After a minute a man dressed in white opened the door a crack, saw Link, and threw it fully open.

"Come in, come in," he beckoned, leading the group down a twist of halls to a large room. Cots filled the center of the room while knives and scissors and other tools lines the walls. Jesika was amazed at how clean everything was especially since many people rested in beds and bloody sheets, wounded by things she would not like to know. "Set him down here."

After Link was put in a cot near a basin of water and the Shiall had been paid, the doctor and an assistant set to work at stripping Link's clothes off. "What happened to him?" the assistant asked, holding what remained of his pants but inspecting his wound. Blood seeped down his leg and stained the sheets black. "It almost looks like.... No. It's not thrakkan poison, is it?"

"Yes, it is," the doctor answered her, looking into Link's blue eyes. "And it looks like at least a full day since he was poisoned, right? That's what I thought." He removed the black cap from Link's head and rested his head against a small pillow. "I'm not sure what I can do about him, but come back tomorrow to see if he survived the night. There is an inn just down the street, The King's Blessing. You can stay there for the night. I trust you can leave by yourselves." The doctor turned his back to the three travelers and concentrated on his new patient.

"Let's go," Alamatar said. "We'll sleep at the inn tonight." She checked to make sure all of Link's weapons were resting under the small bed and left, walking toward the inn.

In her hotel room, Jesika sat uneasily in front of a mirror, brushing her blond hair. She wore a thin gown from Alamatar's small selection of nightclothes. The silk fabric felt smooth and cold against her soft skin. Despite the floor being laid with carpet, her bare feet numbed with cold, and she had to dance them under the desk to push some warmth in them.

Her thoughts drifted to Link, lying in a building not ten houses away; maybe dead, maybe alive. Hopefully alive. Even though she only knew him for not even a month she was as concerned for him as she was for her mother and father, sister and brothers, when she still had a family. Images of Link flashed through her mind, images of that night when Zelda died, and felt sick all over again; the screams of pain echoed in her mind like they happened minutes ago, and the sight of the fire consuming the three Malchadites caused vomit to rise in her throat. She pushed it down and gagged at the taste it left behind.

Not wanting to think about those anymore, Jesika busied herself with her combing. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. Link. Stroke. Stroke. Link. Stroke. Link. Link. She threw the comb against the desktop in frustration and walked to her bed. Removing her nightgown and folding it on the ground, she crawled under the thick blanket, accepting its warmth, and shut her eyes, trying to remove all thoughts from her mind. Sleep came hours later, but she embraced its presence warmly.





Light shone on her face, rousing her awake. Dressing quickly in her skirt and shirt, Jesika walked out onto the balcony hanging over the town square. Men and women alike hustled down the streets, entering stores or trying to keep their children out of trouble. Hawkers' carts lay wherever there was room, holding fruits and breads of all kinds; some Jesika had not seen before. An indiscernible din of shouts from merchants and buyers caused her head to spin. Might as well spend my day in the town. At least it will get my mind clear.

Jesika quickly walked out of her hotel room and entered into the morning life of Melkaban. The hustle was so much worse than she thought from the balcony; everyone seemed to be in such a hurry and she had been almost knocked over on more than one occasion. Not one person apologized.

As her gaze found the doctor's office, she tore her eyes away. Looking at that building and wondering if Link had survived was too painful for her to think about. Half of her wanted to go see Link, see if he survived while the other half didn't, afraid that he might not have made it, and that half was the one that moved her feet down the roads lined with merchants' carts in the opposite direction of the hospital.

She passed rows of wagons and stalls selling anything from fresh fish to golden jewelry studded with gems of multiple colors. Unlike Hyrule and Bolragade, the men and women crowding the streets in Melkaban were gruff and would rather ignore a person before having to speak to him; at least, that was Jesika's impression. Even stranger, though, was their dress. Instead of the stitched skirt and shirt Jesika wore, the villagers, men and women and children alike, wore one-piece attires with an opening for the head and arms, and a large opening for the legs. The hems of clothes hung just above the ground, and belts made of the same material clasped the thin fabric to their waists. Just the same, the colors, bright and joyful, contrasted with the mixture of houses and buildings.

"Ah, young lady!" A merchant stood behind his cart of necklaces of gold and opal and other jewels she didn't recognize. "How would a gold necklace do you today?" In his hands was an elegant necklace of such fine gold it seemed that it was many thin strands of gold woven together, instead of one thick strand. "Only three hundred gold pieces?" The merchant held the jewelry out in front of her.

"I'm sorry, I have no money." Jesika held up her hands to push the necklace away. She walked toward another cart, this one of freshly baked bread. The mixture of aromas from the bread smelled good to her and her stomach growled, protesting its lack of food.

"Hello, ma'am," the baker greeted warmly. "You look hungry. How about a fresh baked roll or maybe a loaf of honey bread? Nowhere in this town will you find a finer and tastier selection of bread." Again, Jesika explained her lack of money, and the large baker's face became thoughtful. "Well, I can't let a little lady walk away from my cart hungry, so take this." He tore off a large portion of what he called honey bread and handed it to her, which she quickly took and ate it in big bites, walking away after thanking the plump man. "Ah, how are you doing, my fine young sir? Could I interest you in..."

For the next few hours Jesika walked around the town, looking at the many articles of clothing and jewelry lying in carts and wagons, wishing she could buy just one ring or bracelet, but declining each generous offer. Alamatar and Belgard were nowhere to be seen; they might be at the hospital or around the town somewhere, but she was glad to be alone. It took her mind off the present situation. As she strolled down the brick-paved streets a large sign stopped her in her tracks. On it was a green book, open, with the word "LIBRARY" under it. Having nothing else to do, she walked in.

Books, small and large, rested on shelves all over the walls of the room and in the middle in neat rows. Two shelves held more books than any other library she had ever seen in her life. Many people, most looking like scholars or teachers, sat at tables, intently reading the tome resting before their eyes. None paid her any heed except for the librarian. "Can I help you?"

"What? Oh, no thanks. I'm fine. I'm just looking around; I've never seen this many books before in my life."

"Yes, Melkaban is famous for having the largest library in all Malchadia," the librarian said proudly, wrinkles forming a smile. "Students far and wide come here to study for their dissertations. If you need anything, just ask."

Jesika walked down one of the aisles, peering at the many books. Some were stories, some myths and folklore, while others were historical books on ancient kings. Jesika was surprised to find a book--quite a few books--about Hyrule resting on the shelves. Picking up a book titled *Myths and Legends*, she walked to a table and opened it. She was quickly lost in the fascinating stories it held.

"Like your book?" someone asked. Standing at her table was a young man a few years Link's junior, smiling. He had black hair combed flat on his head and green eyes glittering in the sunlight. "May I sit down? Thanks." For a while he sat there reading a book of his own, but Jesika had the feeling that what he was looking at was nowhere to be found on the pages. Finally he asked, "You're not from around here, are you?"

A little thrown off by his presence and question, Jesika stuttered, trying to find the right words. She quickly regained control of her voice. "No, I'm not. I'm from...far off." She knew it sounded stupid the moment the moment the words left her mouth, but she didn't want anyone knowing she was Hylian in case someone was looking for her. "My name's Jesika," she said, trying to get the conversation in a comfortable direction, away from the topic of Hyrule.

"I am Gywan." He gently shook her hand and leaned over the table so no one could hear his next words. "You're from Hyrule, aren't you?" The look of shock on Jesika's face answered his question better than any "yes" could do. He smiled.

"H-how did you know?" Suddenly she wished Link were sitting right next to her, or maybe Belgard. Her safeness in this town vanished as abruptly as a Poe moving about the many fields of Hyrule. She was ready to run at a moment's notice.

He brought his left hand up to the side of her head, ignoring her pulling back, and parted the hair, revealing a pointed ear. His other hand pulled back the hair on the right side of his head, revealing a rounded ear. "Only people of Hyrule have pointed ears. And, besides, the clothing you're wearing is only found in Hyrule; the stitching is not used in any other country."

"You know a lot about Hyrule," Jesika said, not sure whether to be impressed or suspicious. "Do you do a lot of reading?"

"To me, being a full person is to know about anything and everything around you." Once again, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "How did you survive the attack on Hyrule?" His voice was full of excitement and anticipation as he asked his question. "It was very brutal from what I heard, and the only people kept alive were those who surrendered immediately."

Before she knew it, Jesika found herself telling Gywan about everything. About the attack on Bolragade and then the second attack in Hyrule Field, and about Link's battling, and Alamatar and Belgard. She told everything about the battle and down to even Link's fight with the thrakkan and the poisoning. "And now I'm here."

Gywan whistled. "General Link, Hero of Time. No wonder you survived; if Link was fighting for you, there was no way any Malchadite could beat him." Then his face became almost totally serious as a thought came to his mind. "I have something you might want to see." He took a parchment out from a pocket and unrolled it on the table. Jesika gasped. The face on the poster was one she knew well. Link. "A few days ago these signs started showing up. I assume Malchadia wants Link badly, and it's probably best if you leave Melkaban. Now. And never go to any Malchadite town, ever."

Shaking hands took the poster, and unsteady knees lifted Jesika from her chair. "I-I have to go. It was nice meeting you, Gywan."

"Will I be able to talk to you again?" he asked.

"Yes. How about at the library tomorrow morning, four hours after sunrise?" Running out of the library and down the street, Jesika burst into the hotel, looking for Alamatar or Belgard. Preferably Alamatar.

Alamatar's room was empty except for her cloak and staff lying neatly on the floor. Jesika ran back through the common room, ignoring the stares from the men sitting on wooden benches, cups of frothing ale in their hands. Back in the street, the sun was setting, and shadows sprang up in every corner of every building. She ran on down the street, ignoring the sounds coming from houses and the shadows between the houses. All she wanted to do was find Alamatar or anyone else she knew so she could pass on the news.

Rushing into the waiting room, she walked up to the woman behind the desk. "Can you tell me if a woman with light brown hair and red eyes, a little taller than me, has come--" The lady, smiling, pointed to a hall at the side of the room. Two rows of doors stood neatly facing the hall, and candlelight glinted off the copper plaques adorning each.

"They are in room 113." Jesika thanked the lady and headed off into the hall. Room 113's door stood slightly ajar, and she walked in. Lying in his bed was Link, awake, and looking normal except for the dark circles under his eyes. Alamatar and Belgard sat in chairs, both facing Link's bed. The three were deep in conversation.

As the door creaked open the conversation stopped, and Link and Belgard's solemn face became grins. Only Alamatar kept her grave expression before slowly smiling, too. "Here you go lass, take my chair." Belgard left the chair he was sitting in and leaned himself against the wall.

"Well, I see you survived the night. You look better, too," Jesika stated. Link just smiled more, but his eyes seemed distant, as if they were desperately searching for something yet finding nothing.

"It seems this doctor is quite knowledgeable in the areas of poisons and cures. He said I was lucky--very lucky--to survive the night. Especially with the fever I had. No matter. I am alive, and I'm going to keep it that way." Link attempted to shift into a better sitting position, but failed miserably until Belgard pulled him up. "As you can see, my strength is not back yet."

"Link, you need to see this." Jesika handed the now crumpled piece of paper over to Link who unfolded it. "Someone showed this to me a little while ago."

"Yes, I've seen it already," he said as he recognized the crumpled face on the large paper. "What do you mean 'someone showed this to you already'?" he asked nonchalantly as he threw the poster on the floor. "You didn't tell anybody, did you?"

She bit her lip, not knowing how to respond. "Link, I'm really sorry. It's just that I had no one to talk to, and he was a good listener. He's very smart and I'm sure he would have found out at some point. He recognized me as Hylian right away. I'm sorry. I just couldn't resist telling him, with his smile...I'm sorry."

Link smiled. "It's okay. We'll be gone as soon as I can get out of bed. And you didn't tell him where we were going; we haven't settled on anything yet." He sunk back down in his bed. "Now let me get some rest." He turned his back and was soon asleep.

The other three headed off to their hotel rooms, too. Jesika couldn't wait for the next day. Maybe she could learn some more about Gywan or the world outside of Hyrule.





The next day Jesika sat in the library at the same table from the day before when she met Gywan. Alamatar sat at her side. "Alamatar, do you know when Link will be well enough to walk? I don't feel right staying here anymore. Not with Link and me wanted people."

Alamatar gave a short, almost melancholic laugh. "You're not the only wanted people. Belgard and I are wanted all over Malchadia. It's just a shame you guys won't have any freedom in this wretched country. Not with Link on priority bounty and signs everywhere with his face on them."

"What do you mean you are wanted all over Malchadia?" Jesika asked, interested in the mysterious woman's past. She had become friends with the brown-haired woman quickly, but there were many things Alamatar had not talked about. Before she could answer Gywan arrived at the table.

"Who's she?" he asked, sitting down in the chair opposite Alamatar's. The same smile from yesterday was on his face.

"Huh? Oh. This is Alamatar. I'm traveling with her. I told her all about you, and she wanted to meet you." Jesika turned her gaze away from looking into his sparkling green eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Setting Alamatar. Or do you prefer to be called just Alamatar?"

Suddenly, Alamatar's body went rigid and her voice turned dangerously hard while her hands gripped the table's edge severely. She half rose and grabbed the collar of his coat, bringing his face to hers. "Never call me by that title. *Ever*. Do you understand me?" She looked around to make sure no one had heard. No one did, or at least they weren't letting on that they had.

"As you wish," he said, a smile on his lips. "I guess it is dangerous to speak of who...what you really are, or were." Alamatar threw him back into his chair.

"What are you talking about?" Jesika asked. "What's so dangerous?" Jesika didn't know what they were referring to, and she never liked being left out of a conversation.

"You mean you don't know?" Gywan looked at Alamatar curiously. Before she could signal him to silence, he went on. "Your friend here was one of the most dangerous fighters in the entire country. I'm sure she still is."

"Alamatar, what is he talking about?" Jesika placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.

The look on Alamatar's face said she disliked speaking of that topic, and for a while she was silent before finally saying a word. "Talking about it brings up painful memories, but here goes. Three years ago, Belgard and I served as the King of Malchadia's...secret guards. We were the best of the best and took all our missions without one question as to who our target was, or why. But one time we received a mission about a renegade general who was causing trouble all over the country Siwann. The King wanted him taken out, and he wanted us to take his son so the boy could learn what exactly the Setting Suns do, and how they do it." Alamatar brought out a small red sigil looking like a crimson sun and showed Jesika.

"This little disk the King gave to me, and Belgard, granted us the power to do almost anything we pleased. I don't know why I keep it." The distaste in her voice was as burning as acid. "Well, we found the general, and once we had picked off his men and had him cornered, the King's son *had* to interfere. It turns out the son was once a friend of the general, and he stood in our way, keeping us from completing our job. He left us no choice; after many attempts to coax him out of the way, Belgard drove his sword through both son and general. When the King heard about what we did, he arrested us and almost killed us. Almost.

"In a last ditch effort to escape, Belgard cut through the ranks of the Malchadite soldiers, I right behind him killing those he missed. We were forced into Malchadia's wildlife, never being able to stay in any village too long; there was always somebody who recognized us. After that Belgard and I gave up that life and started anew. Anybody we came across who needed help we helped, instead of scoffing at them and marching on our way. Then we came across two people who needed our help most of all: you and Link. When we saw both of you sleeping in the grass, we promised each other we would help you with whatever you and Link wanted, for as long as it took." Her eyes and voice hinted there was something left unsaid, but Jesika didn't question Alamatar. She already had spoken of something that brought back upsetting memories. "I'm surprised you haven't called any of the guards," she said to Gywan. "You do know who we are."

"It's my job to know about these things," he replied modestly. "Not my job to have people thrown in jail. Besides, you don't learn anything if your only resource is dead."

The look Alamatar shot him was that of suspicion, and she stood, brown tresses resting on the shoulders of her white gown. "I don't know what you're hinting at, but I have business to take care of elsewhere," she said, "so I will get to the point. You know more than you should about my companions and me, therefore I leave you with two choices: come with my friends and me or I won't have to worry about you telling anyone anything. You choose."

Gywan smiled. "Well, there is no point in violence if it can be avoided. And I can learn a lot more outside of the confining walls of Melkaban, so I think I will come with you." His smile remained, but his eyes carried a look that said he was less than pleased with his options.

"Good. Jesika, take your friend and get to Link's room by nightfall. That's when we leave." She walked out of the library doors and headed down the street.





Link stretched his muscles. It feels good to be able to walk again. Even though he was bedridden for a short while his muscles felt as if he had been in bed for months. The medicine the doctor gave him brought back his energy and strength but didn't lessen the stiffness.

Link stood in the middle of the floor, wearing nothing but thin shorts. His blond hair lay matted against his muscular back, and a pair of slippers kept his feet from touching the cold floor. His clothes--tunic, boots, cap, and Zelda's ribbon--rested in the closet along with his weapons.

Belgard stood beside Link, ready to catch him should he fall. In Link's hand was Galadhad, blade swinging in blazing arcs as his arm danced through a series of slashes and thrusts. Link practiced his sword techniques, narrowly avoiding slicing the glass ewer and wooden dresser in two. "It feels good to get the kinks out," Link muttered to no one in particular, stretching his arms and legs before resuming his exercises. He stopped in mid-swing as the door clicked open and Jesika walked in. An unfamiliar boy entered behind her.

When she saw Link her cheeks flushed and she turned her gaze to the floor. "Link," Jesika said, brushing a stray strand of light hair out of her face. "This is Gywan. You know, the one I told you about last night."

"Hello," Link said, nodding to the black-haired boy, and scabbarded his sword. Belgard, too, introduced himself.

Gywan's eyes glittered when Belgard spoke, as if he knew Belgard from somewhere, but Link didn't ask about that. Instead, Belgard asked, "Have you seen Ala--"

Just as the words came out of his mouth the door opened again and Alamatar strode in, three cloaks in her arms and a pair of black pants. "Put these on," she commanded, handing a pitch-black cloak to Jesika and Gywan. She left Link's cloak and the black pants on the bed. "Come on, Jesika. We'll wait for the men in the waiting room."

"That might not be the wisest of decisions." Gywan was peering out the small window. "I think I see Malchadite troops walking up to the hospital."

Immediately Belgard was by his side, looking out the window, also. "I see at least thirteen soldiers. It's too dark to tell if they are anyone special, though, but they know we're here."

"Then let us get out of here," Link said, standing in front of the door. He was dressed in his new pair of black pants and his tunic adorned by the many medals of past victories. His sword was slung across his back with his bow and quiver, and his hookshot rested at his belt. The black cloak was clasped together by two golden buttons near the neck with a small gold chain connecting the two and hung almost to the floor despite Link's tall height.

The hallway was quiet. Nothing stirred in any of the rooms, and the creaks of the floorboards sounded as if they should have alerted every Malchadite within a mile of where they were. "Is there a back door?" Jesika asked, her voice squeaky with fear. Link moved and stood next to Jesika, guarding the rear of the group while Belgard took the lead.

"There they are!" a man shouted behind them. A man dressed in a blue cleaning uniform stood at the end of hall, pointing at them, and three Malchadite soldiers advanced toward Link and his party. Two men carried swords while the other held a spear that almost touched the ceiling.

Link placed a hand on Jesika's back and pushed her into Belgard's arms. "Get out of here!" Leaving the others behind, he shouldered the nearest soldier to the ground and punched the other two, one in the face, one in the chest. The man Link rammed to the ground squirmed and attempted to get up. He never got close to getting back on his feet, for Link pulled out the dagger at the enemy's belt and threw it into his stomach. The knife cleanly cut through the leather armor, and the Malchadite screamed in pain, squirming in his own blood around the blade that held him transfixed to the floor. Link smiled cruelly at the agonizing soldier and placed a foot on his face, smashing it inward.

The next Malchadite lunged at Link with his spear but it was easily dodged. A quick blow to the neck and he sagged to floor, dead. One more to go. This man eyed Link with fear in his eyes, but that didn't stop him from attacking. The enemy's sword swung faster than could be thought in the narrow halls and would have hit Link's shoulder had a wooden staff not deflected the blow and been slammed into the foe's stomach. Alamatar was at his side and brought her staff twirling around again, this time hitting his temple with the large knot. A sharp crack reverberated through the halls and he fell to the ground, on top of his dead companion.

"I told you to get going," Link said calmly, inspecting one of the dead bodies. They were no different from any of the other Malchadites he saw before he fled from Hyrule--same armor and weapons--except one wore a yellow sun insignia on his breast. Link took it and placed it in a pocket.

"We ran into a few more friends." Looking behind her, Link saw two dead bodies sprawled across the floor. Jesika stood by the wall looking paler than clean bed sheets. She had to place a hand on a doorknob to keep from falling, and her face looked sick.

"Let's leave," Alamatar suggested, and Jesika was all the happier to comply. Before they left, though, Gywan picked up the long spear and sawed the bottom off until it was as tall as himself, only an inch or two shorter than Link. "You know how to fight with one of those?" Alamatar raised an eyebrow curiously at him.

"I spent years as a child spearing fish and throwing javelins. This is no different than spear-fishing besides the fact that I'm not aiming for fish." He was the last one to leave the hospital behind and enter into the darkness.

Belgard was in the lead, taking them through the alleys and side roads. Jesika's trembling hands clasped firmly to Link's arm and he followed closely behind Belgard. Taking up the rear was Gywan, swinging his spear in small circles and arcs, and Alamatar, constantly looking over her shoulder for signs of someone following them. No one gave pursuit.

They passed through a labyrinth of side passages and alleyways, running from voices they heard drifting through the night air, despite most of them being from families eating their dinner who knew nothing of what was happening. The slightest of sounds caused the hair on the back of Link's neck to rise. Without having to ask--his friends' faces said it all--Link knew what everyone was thinking. How did they find us?

The alley ended right at the front gate. Link was surprised no guards were patrolling the area. "Where is everyone? I'd expect there to be at least one guard around here--"

"They don't need a guard," a voice, proud and arrogant, said from the shadows of a large tree. "Not right now at least." As the man emerged, the moonlight cast a faint glow on his face. A large scar, dark and red, ran down his eyeless socket and disappeared behind a black eye-patch with a red eye painted on it. "It's been a long time since a saw you last, Alamatar."

"Go away. I have nothing more to do with you," Alamatar said viciously. Her hands groped the hard wooden staff until her knuckles whitened. An angry glare pierced the man standing before them.

"Can't do that. Xeros wants you so very much, and will do anything, give anything for you." Silently, the long sword in the scabbard on Link's back came out of its resting-place, and laid firm in his hand. Link could here the chattering of Jesika's teeth even with her mouth closed tight. "You can put your sword away, general. It will be much easier on you if you and the girl surrender willingly."

Link kept his sword out and stood in front of Jesika who was more than happy to be behind him. His blood was boiling in his veins and his heart pulsed with anger. "None of us are surrendering at all. Especially not to the likes of you, Malchadite."

"Oho," the man laughed. "Is that the best you can do?" Link stood firm and gritted his teeth, contemplating on whether he should kill him or stay with his friends.

"Link, we have to get out of here," Jesika urged from behind him. "Look at the streets." Already, men covered in armor wielding swords were rushing toward them down the road. She placed a quivering hand on his arm, trying to get him to put his sword away, but in vain. All too soon the soldiers were upon them, forming a circle around the group with Link and the scarred man in the center.

"Why, general, you seem so unhappy to once again be able travel the world; I thought you would be glad to be free from your slut of a princess," he taunted and fell backwards as Link drove his fist into his chest. Had the man been wearing armor, the blow would still have been enough to knock the wind from his lungs.

"*Never* refer to Zelda like that." Link stood over the man, the tip of his sword against the fallen man's neck. "Or you will regret the day your mother and father laid eyes on each other. Do you understand me?"

He just laughed, and his scar pulled tight across his face. "You best rethink what you are doing." He gave a sigh. "I pity you. You escaped the weapons of Malchadia only to be delivered into the hands of another weapon. A weapon who appears to be helping you, but I wonder what she really has up her sleeves? Don't look so confused, Link"--his name was said with an ugly sneer--"you should no whom I'm talking about. Or has she not said who--what she is?"

"Shut up!" Alamatar shouted. Her staff had a dark glow around it. "Do not say a word!"

"What are you talking about?" Link asked, as confused as Jesika was. Regardless, Link brought Galadhad's tip down into the soldier's neck, producing a small trickle of blood.

"Oh, you don't know your new friend is a killer?" he rasped, struggling to speak around the sword tip. "My, my, Alamatar; do you not trust people--your own friends--that much to tell them a little secret?" He went right on speaking to Link, not giving her time to respond. "Had your friend not screwed up on a mission a while back she and Belgard would have led the attack on Hyrule, and I guarantee you: you would not have survived that attack. Isn't that right, Alamatar, Belgard?"

The glow around Alamatar's staff intensified. "I told you not to say a word, slime!" She held the staff so that had she been in Link's place she probably would have driven the sword into his neck.

"You always were a little short of temper," the Malchadite said. "It's only a shame you can't keep it under control. Although, I have to admit, you have the face of a thrakkan whose nest is being destroyed when you let your anger get the best of you." He turned his lone eye back to Link. "I'm surprised you still accompany such a battle-axe, but then you've never seen her ugly side. When she gets really angry sometimes she really shows the monster she--"

"SHUT UP!" Alamatar roared, and the nimbus glowing around her staff, and body, shot out from her in all directions. Belgard had barely enough time to tell his companions to make sure their cloak covered their bodies before he was thrown to the ground. The force of Alamatar's magic hurled Link away from the Malchadite, and Jesika and Gywan fell against a wall. Black lances of energy flew from her staff and outstretched arm, catching the standing soldiers in the chest, lifting them into the air before sending them plummeting to the grassy floor with gurgling gasps. "You will regret your words," Alamatar said dangerously to the man still on the ground, still alive. Spears of black lightning, blacker than pitch, rained from the sky and struck at the man's body, leaving nothing but black spots where they struck. After the first bolt the man was dead.

"Alamatar, *stop*!" Belgard shouted, getting up from where he lay face first in the grass. In another moment he had placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. All of a sudden she snapped as she was freed from her trance, and the deadliness of her eyes, the anger too, vanished as she took in what was around her. Her friends were lying on the ground--Link face-up many feet away; Jesika kneeling on the floor, emptying her stomach; Gywan gazing wide-eyed from the stone foundation of a nearby house. Dead bodies with swirling black pikes sticking from their chests littered the ground, and a body, almost unrecognizable, lay at her feet. The grass she stood on was withered like vines in a desert that had not had water in ages.

"What have I done?" she asked, dropping to her knees. Link could hear muttered curses from Alamatar, faint as they were. "Artaemia help me, what have I done?" She bolted to her feet, unconsciously throwing off Belgard's hand and ran. Ran to the exit and into the woods, face buried in her hands. Link thought he heard faint sobs, then he, too, was on his feet and running after her with Belgard in front. Gywan and Jesika were right on their heels. All were anxious and grateful to be away from Melkaban.





Soon the bodies lying around the entrance to Melkaban were forgotten by both Link and his company and the villagers; they let Malchadia tend to their own problems and their own dead. No one neared the pile of corpses, fearing something would jump from the shadows and attack. But one body was still among the living, still strongly holding on to the breath flowing through his lungs. The black charred spots on his arms and chest and stomach vanished as if they were mere illusions, and the man climbed to his feet. The wound made from the tip of that accursed sword was the only injury on his body. At least, it better be. The scar on his face pulled even tighter across his face as he looked frowningly into the shadows around a small house, now barely standing on its foundation. "Galvin, come out."

A small old man hobbled out of the darkest of the shadows, limping on his left leg. His graying hair laid unkempt on his head; snarls and snags collected in small lumps around his head. He had a gray beard that, more than once, almost got caught under his feet. "Yes, Setting Reggin, what may I do for you?" he asked, leaning heavily on a stick used as a cane. The words painfully came out of his mouth and his breathing was hard.

"Galvin, have the remaining Rising Suns bury the dead soldiers where they lay. Tell them to touch the bodies as little as possible." Reggin looked out towards the forest in which they escaped and fingered the red sun on his breast. "Find the doctor of the hospital they were staying at, and the innkeeper whose inn they slept at, and kill them. Cut off their heads and post them on stakes at the entrance to this town with a sign saying, 'All who help the enemies of Malchadia become enemies themselves, and this punishment will make yours seem like a blessing.' "

"And what of their bodies, Setting?" Galvin asked with anticipation, his breath back to normal, partly with the help of the white aura that flowed through and around his body. "What should we do about the already dead villagers, and the sick ones?"

"Chop the bodies up and place the pieces next to the sign. Post a guard if you have to, but I want those bodies to remain there until they rot beyond recognition. See to it personally, Mage Galvin. As for the sick and the dead, let them take care of themselves; it will teach them not to care for fugitives. You have your orders." The old man scurried away as best he could while Reggin cast his eyes back on the forest. I will have you, Alamatar. You and Link, and there is nothing you can do except run. I promise, next time we meet you *will* not leave until your wrists have been shackled and you have been beaten to nothing more than a bloody rag. Placing a hand to his neck and wiping the dried blood away, he stalked back through the city, wanting to return to Calystra, the capital city of Malchadia, where his manor is. There, at least, he could plan his next move.