Chapter Four

Meetings with Mystical People

They didn't travel like normal people. But then, Zayna thought, her captors were far from normal. She was breathing deeply, her heart skipping. Enveloped in sweat, she kept herself from whimpering. Usually she would have flared against herself for the weakness, but not this time. Being tied up she could tolerate, shimmering bands of energy locking her wrists and ankles together. Bonds were bonds. She'd been held captive before; she was used to it. She'd just exchanged iron chains for magical ones. But the travelling. Oh, how she loathed the travelling.

She spied the two Riders raising their arms with a hiss, and she almost wept from the dread. It was time to go. Why they kept stopping, she couldn't quite tell. They travelled to many places, but only stopped for a few hours or so in each. A lush, humid jungle where exotic, brightly coloured animals eyed her with curiosity. A cold desolate land where the ground seemed to be made from marble, and the night appeared to be etched permanently to the vault of the sky. None of the places were the final destination, and Zayna guessed that perhaps the effort of travelling exhausted them as much as it drained her. They obviously couldn't travel in public. And now it was time to leave again. Her breathing started coming heavier and her heart roared with thuds. Eyes scrunched shut and teeth gritted, she braced herself.

Then it happened. She felt every inch of her body, every muscle, sinew, organ, bone and vein rip apart as it was literally removed from reality. Her mouth opened and she tried to scream, but nothing came out save blood. She could see colours - red, yellow, green, even those with no names. She saw nothing. She saw herself as a child, energetic, grinning. Happy. She saw nothing. Then, she saw herself as an awkward and sullen adolescent, grief and confusion lining her face. Loneliness and isolation her only companions. She saw nothing.

She felt herself be slowly and painfully rearranged as she shifted back to reality. Cold air gusted upon her sweat-soaked skin and she gulped for breaths as her body kicked back into functioning normally. Real air had never tasted so sweet. She fell to her knees and wept.

2

Zelda breathed deeply, letting the wind play with her hair. She stood atop the newly built Tower of Hyrule with the Morolak Duchess. The Tower was another of her husband's extravagances. Built of reflective marble that made it glow in daylight, it soared above the castle as if it could pierce the sky. She had to admit, though. It did have a great view.

She let her gaze wander over Hyrule. In the distance she saw Lake Hylia glistening, and beyond that she knew lay the Winding Sea. Columns of white smoke drifted from cooking fires from Kakariko and similar villages. Death Mountain, high and proud, still managed to dwarf the Tower. Nothing Cyle could build would challenge the Mountain's supremacy.

The Queen peered downward. She felt slightly dizzy from the height, and she could see hundreds of tiny people scurrying this way and that. For a moment she felt she could lift them all in her hand and cradle them lovingly. So many lives. So much responsibility. Her responsibility.

With a conscious effort of will, she kept her gaze away from Lon Lon Ranch and its village and peered over towards where the desert lay. Link was coming. How Tyron had known that, she didn't know, but then, she thought wryly, Tyron knew many things. Link may already be in Hyrule Field, for all she knew. What was he doing here? Would he come and see her? She couldn't decide how she felt about that, and decided she did not even want to think about it now.

Zelda looked towards the Duchess. Toriya, her name was, Zelda remembered. "What do you think?" she asked with a smile.

Toriya responded in kind. "It's beautiful…but," and here her smile grew a little wider. "Not as beautiful as my home."

They were alone up here atop the gently swaying tower. Their personal guards had wanted to join them, but Zelda had scolded them in mock anger. Who would come and attack them up there? Still. The guards were worried that one of them may slip or catch on a railing and fall. The Queen had shooed them away, but she knew they waited on the dust-covered, stone stairs that led up here. She had no problem with that. On the stairs, they could hear next to nothing of their conversation.

Zelda took in a deep breath, before saying with some warmth, "I really appreciated our little discussions."

"I, too," Toriya replied, still smiling. After the official negotiations, Toriya had visited Zelda almost every evening, chatting into the night. In hushed whispers, the servants were now gossiping that the Duchess saw more of Zelda than the King did. Cyle hadn't liked that one bit. He still had not spoken to her more than a few, polite sentences ever since she had shown him up at the feast.

Toriya had seemingly unearthed a new-found respect for Zelda after the negotiations. Zelda was shocked at the terms of the treaty. Somehow, Cyle had managed to charm the Duke into opening trade routes that would result in the majority of wealth landing in the laps of Hylian traders. He had also – and this bothered her the most – got the Duke to agree to letting Hyrule control fifty percent of the Morolak army in the case of 'grave emergency'.

Pushing and prodding and putting Cyle into situations that would embarrass him if he disagreed, Zelda had managed to get the terms renegotiated so that the Morolak Kingdoms would be an equal ally to Hyrule.

Toriya had appreciated this greatly and she turned to Zelda now with a serious look. "Zelda," she said. "If you ever need anything. Ever. Come to me and I will be more than willing to move mountains to aid you."

Zelda blushed slightly at the intensity of the words. "Thank you. Thank you so very much. And I hope I can offer you the same in return."

"You have already done enough. My husband is a fool and I grow weary of him." It was then that Zelda realised who the power was in that marriage. Toriya unclipped a golden star-shaped pendant from her gown and pressed it into Zelda's hands. "This will give you safe passage in my Kingdoms. I'm sure my King and Queen would be more than happy to meet you."

Zelda frowned. Why would she ever need safe passage? Still. She realised the significance of the act. "I am grateful."

"Now I'm afraid I must depart. I think the dumpling Duke is ready to seek out new lands for new culinary adventures," she said sourly.

Zelda laughed, before being surprised by a vice-like hug. The Queen hugged her back, eyes closed. It had been a long while since she had had the simple pleasure of genuine companionship.

"Take good care of yourself, Your Majesty," Toriya whispered. With that, the Duchess turned and made for the stairs.

The Queen's heart blossomed into happiness. There were six other nations surrounding Hyrule. Cyle had gained the friendship of four of them. But the Morolak Kingdoms were her ally now. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. All that was left was Prince Chizan of the Freelander Emirate. He was due this very night, and Zelda needed to talk to Tyron to prepare.

3

The floor was cold and grey. Zayna could hear faint musical humming from all around her. Her memories struggled to reorder themselves and for a faint moment, she thought she was back home as a child by a crackling fire with her mother's soft voice singing to her. Her heart tugged at the memory, but it melted when her mind righted itself. She knew exactly where she was and it dismayed her. The Temple of Time.

Her bonds were gone. She looked up just as her mind acknowledged the fact in surprise. Further down the hall she saw the two Riders standing there, statue like. Watching.

Strength flooded back into her limbs and she slowly got to her feet. Screaming with indignation, she flung herself forward. They were too far ahead of her, so when she landed, she rolled and sprang forward again. She landed with a slight slip in front of the duo. She knew this was insane. They had bested her before and more than likely had killed Link. The last thought ignited her anger once more, mildly surprising though it was.

Swinging one leg around in a fluid arc, she kicked one Rider in the face with a crack that resounded through the Temple. It had barely flinched. She thrust her hand forward to strike its chest. Again, just the hint, barely noticeable, of a flinch.

"Stop it." For a moment, she thought one of the Riders had spoken, before she realised that she recognised the voice. She felt nauseous and unconsciously took a step back.

"Chalance Vance." Even saying his name made her mouth taste bad. She had known all along of course. No one else but the King's newest Advisor would have summoned such monstrosities as the Demon Riders just to hunt her down.

The small, thin sorcerer stepped out from behind the Riders. "You remember me," he said, his voice barely a hoarse whisper. Zayna had to strain to listen. "I'm touched."

Zayna reached out to grab him, but the crimson-clad arm of a Rider shot out, like lightening, to block.

"What's the matter, Vance?" she said, some of her confidence returning. It was fuelled by fury. How dare this pitiful little dishonourable man hound her life? "Too scared to fight me without your poodles?"

Vance scowled.

"They were just like puppy dogs," she cooed. "Had you both eating out of my hands, didn't I boys? In fact," she added, with a wink, "I asked for them to bring me here."

The Riders did not react at all, but Vance had turned as red as their clothes, and was seething furiously. "I hardly think so." He said, spitting out each word. "You are here, because I wanted you here."

His expression softened and he gently lifted the arm of the Rider so he could slip past. He slowly walked up to Zayna until they were face to face. She held his gaze with a hot, unblinking stare. He shifted his weight onto his toes and leaned forward so closely she could feel his breath on her face. Zayna stiffened, disgusted. "And because," he said, reaching a hand up to stroke her hair. "I have power over you."

Zayna pushed him backwards with such force that the Riders had to catch him. As he scrambled back up with the Riders moving slowly to help him, she stretched into a fighting stance and waited. He struggled, cursing. His cloak had gotten tangled with his face and he fought to regain his composure, while Zayna narrowed her eyes, watching. His face appeared. There. Zayna lashed out with a liquid-quick kick. Crunch. Vance howled in pain, clutching his nose as the blood started to fly.

In an instant, the Riders moved. Two impossibly hot hands grabbed her arms and lifted her up. Zayna moaned in pain as despair filled her whole being. It radiated out from the Riders and penetrated to the marrow of her bones. She slumped to the ground, defeated.

"What now?" she choked. "You take me to the King?"

Vance nursed his nose with a silk handkerchief. A woman's handkerchief, Zayna noted. She felt a small thrill of satisfaction as she saw how stained the cloth with the deep scarlet tint of his blood.

"No, not yet," he said, his voice now nasal sounding. He looked up at the Riders. "Take her to my private dungeons."

4

"What happened to your nose?" Cyle asked curiously.

Vance grimaced as he peered at the King through a face cast. "It was nothing. I was a little drunk and walked into a door."

Cyle raised an eyebrow. Chalance Vance had never drunk anything stronger than water for all the time he had known him. He decided not to pursue the matter.

"The Prince is due soon. And … Zelda is becoming a nuisance. I cannot let her interfere like she did the last time." Cyle still burned with anger over his defeat in the Morolak negotiations.

"She will be dealt with," Vance said.

Cyle pondered. "It will be difficult. The people love her …"

"Do not worry, I have a plan."

Cyle looked uncomfortable. He didn't like the sound of any plan from Chalance Vance. No doubt his Advisor would not be willing to fill him in on the details "And." Cyle's voice faltered. He swallowed hard before he continued. "She is not to come to any harm, you understand?"

Vance sneered. "Spare me. Are you getting all sappy now?"

Cyle sprang up, hot rage bubbling in his heart, and grabbed the Advisor in a tight vice. " I said … do … you … under … stand?"

Chalance Vance glowered back. For a moment, Cyle felt a little dizzy. Perhaps it had been a mistake to touch his Advisor. He swore he heard faint crackles of energy hissing in the air. Tiny sparkles of blue light popped in front of his eyes. Then he felt Vance relax in his grip, and give him a smile that was almost as chilling as his usual stone like expression.

"Yes, Your Highness," he said.

Cyle waved away what he had just experienced a moment ago. Just his imagination, surely.

"But." Cyle froze as Vance continued. "You have to consider the possibility that you may never see her again." Cyle bristled and Vance held up a hand. "Ah. Ah. Hear me out. She will be alive … but perhaps out of reach."

The King slumped in his chair and rubbed his temples. Why did you have to be so difficult about everything, Zelda? he mused. He was just trying to do the best for Hyrule. For her people.

Cyle felt sick. "Do whatever needs to be done," he said, the distasteful clear in his tone. He turned away before he could see Vance smile. "What of the other … girl?"

"Ah." Cyle noticed out of the corner of his eye that Vance had shifted uncomfortably. "My agents are still chasing her. Do not fear, my liege, I will punish them for their slackness. Still," and here his voice suddenly became deeper, making Cyle want to rest his eyes for some reason. "It is of no consequence."

This felt, at that moment in time, like the most correct thing in the world to Cyle. He had been certain about nothing before in his life except this. "Yes," he said, his voice sleepy. "No consequence."

Suddenly the door to Royal Chamber rang with thuds. Cyle snapped awake. What was he just discussing?

"Your Highness!" came the voice from outside. "Prince Chizan has arrived."

5

King Cyle had never seen a Freelander. He had been briefed, of course. Cyle would never begin negotiations without being fully prepared. He walked with his Royal Guard to the castle gate, while torches flickered, elongating their shadows. Cyle had given strict orders that the Queen was not to be notified about the Prince's arrival. He had also commanded Vance not to join him. Especially not while he looked so ridiculous with his facecast.

Apparently the Freelanders were a noble, warrior race much like the ancient and long extinct Sheikah of Hyrule. They were skilled in weaponry and the art of war. Cyle's mouth watered at this. Skilled warriors were a great asset. Especially if Vance could get the girl and begin the final stage of the plan.

There was another thing, too. Freelanders were Hylian in appearance but they … looked slightly different. It had something to do with their skin.

Cyle pondered over this as they walked into the cool, night air. Their boots thudded on the wood, making the drawbridge vibrate. He could see the Freelander party in the distance, illuminated by torch light. They were all hooded and he could make out no distinct features.

His Guards marched to a stop in front of a rider whose horse was waiting a little bit ahead of the group. The horse shook its head and snorted. He guessed that the rider must be the Prince. Cyle stepped forward and gave a short bow.

Smiling, he said, "The Kingdom of Hyrule welcomes you, Prince Chizan and your fellow Freelanders!" His voice rang out and echoed through the night.

With a flick of his wrist, Chizan dropped his hood. Cyle heard one or two of his guards gasp, but he himself managed to maintain his composure, despite being clearly taken aback. The man was gold! Not golden looking or having golden skin. He literally shone like gold.

The Prince's large, oval purple eyes looked over the King. "I accept your welcome," he said, in a confident, yet measured voice. "And I greet you, Link, Hero of Time."