IN MY HANDS
By Phantwo J Fou the Infamous

Author's Note: Link's conversation with the Sage of Shadow bears absolutely no resemblance to the conversation in the game. Oh well. In other news, I do have intentions to explain Navi's absence from earlier in the story. However, that—and Link's dream—are going to be tied in later. This fic, I've decided, is going to cover the rest of the game, because I realised I'd enjoy that. Can't you just imagine the fun we'll have in Spirit Temple?

Special thanks to everyone who has reviewed this fic! I'm glad that most of you have enjoyed the ride. Hopefully this chapter won't disappoint you as much as it disappointed me.

Chapter Nine
The Sage of Shadow

The sound of a mysterious portal being opened to my right would have startled me, if it had happened before this experience in this temple. But after frights of a much different nature, the unexpected appearance of a portal leading to something on the side of the righteous was hardly unwelcome. I glanced to Navi, still chuckling to myself, and then took a weary step forward. The Chamber of Sages beckoned.

I paused before stepping through, however, to look around. So many things to tuck away into the darkest depths of my memory . . . one last look at them, I reasoned, to fully appreciate the horror I had defeated. To fully appreciate what I was escaping.

Navi fluttered by my shoulder, staring at the portal with disbelief. I heard her very faintly draw in a breath.

"Link," she said, barely above a whisper, "do I ever tell you how amazing you are?"

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "You don't."

She released a sigh. "Perhaps I should."

"Yes," I agreed with a little hesitation and obvious arrogance. "Perhaps you should."

Then, without further ado, I held my breath and took a step forward, into the lighted portal. As the light enveloped me, I glanced through the haze at the walls composed of misery itself—and, releasing my breath slowly, closed this door of my life forever.

"Hero of Time . . . Hero of Time. . . ."

I knew that voice.

The blinding light that surrounded me effectively disabled me from seeing the source, but I knew that somewhere, in the furthest corner of my mind, I held a memory of hearing that voice. A powerful voice it was, indeed, menacing and dangerous, but with a gentleness about it—and so dignified. Where had I heard that voice before?

Sheik had told me who the Shadow Sage was . . . and yet I could not for the life of me remember.

"Open your eyes, Hero of Time, and look upon the Sage of Shadow!"

I dared not disobey so commanding a voice, and so, tentatively, despite an inclination that doing so would be fatal to my vision, I opened my eyes.

Impa—of course. I had really seen her only once, but once was quite enough. This tall, proud Sheikah, guardian of the Princess of Hyrule herself, was unforgettable. Her very countenance could frighten and discourage a majority of the temple monsters . . . little wonder she was the Shadow Sage. Feeling her red eyes boring into me and penetrating my soul (and feeling decidedly uneasy under her gaze), I opened my mouth to acknowledge her, but she gave me no chance to speak.

"Link," she said, her tone suddenly becoming tender—almost affectionate. It gave me a fright. "How nice to see you once more . . . and in such splendour."

Splendour? I raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, thinking that perhaps the bloodstains on my tunic were less visible in blinding light.

Impa smiled at me—which certainly made her less forbidding. "You certainly look the part of hero more now than you did seven years ago, hmm?" She chuckled to herself, quietly. "Of course, Zelda would never hear of that, since you've always been her hero, regardless of your stature. But then, Zelda has always been determined to believe what she will."

Zelda. It had been a while since I'd heard of her. I hadn't really thought of her overmuch, but somehow, hearing Impa say that I was the princess's hero made me feel victorious. I wondered about her. Princess Zelda. The most well-known name in Hyrule—or at least, it had been, before Ganondorf's revolution. Where had she been, in these perilous years? Had she even survived?

Suddenly overtaken by panic, I stammered, "Zelda—her—her highness is . . . alive . . . is she not?"

Impa was caught off guard by the question, but after a moment of looking stunned, she laughed again. "Oh, of course, lad! Why would we even bother fighting now if she had been among the thousands of casualties in this war?"

"Perhaps to save the other thousands of people that haven't yet died under Ganondorf's oppressive hand?" I replied casually. Impa narrowed her eyes. I apologised.

"Link . . ." Impa began, after a moderate silence. "Terrible things have happened to Hyrule."

I nodded. "Very perceptive."

She gave a grim smile and continued without acknowledging me further. "Zelda and her family had to flee the palace, of course. Her father and his entourage ran away to one of Hyrule's distant allies, but Zelda refused to go with them. King Harkinian wasn't pleased to leave her behind, but threats to his own safety forced him to run before he could convince her to flee with him. And so Zelda has remained here."

"In Hyrule?" Oh, that was profound.

"The one and only."

"How?" The word was not intended only to question how Zelda had managed to survive seven years eluding Ganondorf. It was also questioning how she had managed to elude me.

Impa drew a breath. "She . . . she went into hiding not long after the king's departure. She would have been taken by Ganondorf's minions, otherwise, most certainly. I doubt he would have killed her—the princess figures too prominently in his game of Destiny—but we could not risk her in such a manner. And so—"

"—she hid," I finished the sentence for her, slowly. There was no need for her to answer. I processed the information for a moment and followed up with: "Where?"

"Oh, Link!" said Impa, a mite exasperated with my curiosity. "I can't tell you where! Not until—not until we can be certain that he is not watching. And don't look so ashen, boy! She'll be safe . . . and she'll reveal herself when the time is right."

I nodded wordlessly, then wondered why I was merely accepting that explanation. What happened to Link the Defiant? "And when shall that be?"

She laughed bitterly. "You ask a lot of questions, don't you? It shall be when Ganondorf no longer has control of Hyrule, I suppose. Then Zelda can reclaim what's hers without fear."

"Had she any intentions of showing herself to me, for encouragement if nothing else, before I win this war for her single-handed, Impa?" I folded my hands behind my back and met her eyes casually. "I'm merely curious."

Impa's lips started to curl up in what appeared to be a smile, but she, with visible effort, repressed it. She opened her mouth to speak and had to pause to avoid laughing openly. "Link . . . she had every intention. . . . Every intention of seeing you." Evidently the smile won the battle, and she broke into a wide grin. "I don't suppose it worked out quite the way she planned . . . but believe me, Link, she has every intention of seeing you . . . and it may be sooner than you realise."

I could sense that her story had been deliberately clipped. There were details that I, apparently, was not of high enough status to know. Of course, I reasoned with myself, I wasn't of high enough status. I was just the single-handed saviour of Hyrule.

Just the lone man who was to save the people of Hyrule from lonely, agonising deaths at the hands of an evil Gerudo king who possessed the Triforce.

Nothing of true importance.

But I didn't bother prying. I believed her—even if I knew she was as yet hiding something. How could I help but believe her? Whether secretive and forbidding or motherly and affectionate, Impa was a figure of command and authority. She was not the kind of person to doubt. She did not lie; she merely told only what truths were necessary to share. Impa knew the ropes.

Impa had made the ropes.

"Link," said Impa without warning.

"Hmm?"

"She'll be glad to see you," she told me quickly. A wee bit too quickly. "She speaks of you often."

"Does she now." She hasn't seen me in seven years. I hardly remember what she looks like. I can't imagine she remembers my appearance, either. And yet she speaks of me often . . . ? By Din's divine fire—why would she speak of me at all?

"Indeed. And Link, I want you to promise me that when you do see her, you'll keep a steady head."

"I can't imagine that I wouldn't," I said cautiously.

Again, I noticed Impa's lips twitch a bit as she fought a smile. "Oh, Link, you're so confident! You'd be surprised how much things change over seven short years."

Seven short years. . . .

At that moment, without any warning, an insanely bright light filled the room, and I closed my eyes and raised my arm to shield myself from the brightness. For a moment there was utter silence—and then I heard a quiet sound . . . a sound that no words can truly describe. A second later the sound was drowned out by Impa's voice.

"Open your eyes, Hero of Time," she said softly, but with the same aura of dignity and power that I had sensed the first time she'd requested that of me that forced me to comply.

Slowly I opened my eyes, seeing the light fade, and raised my eyes to meet Impa's . . .

And there, floating right before my face, was a purple medallion.

It startled me. I suppose Impa heard my quick intake of breath, for she gave a quiet laugh as I stared at the medallion with intense confusion. I managed to look directly at Impa for a moment, and she smiled at me. Din! Even with that affectionate smile on her face she looked fierce and forbidding . . . as only the Sage of Shadow and leader of the Sheikah could.

I remember, as a child, she had frightened me. . . .

But nothing after the Temple of Shadow would ever frighten me again. Much less Zelda's nanny.

"Take the medallion, Hero of Time," Impa bellowed, the tenderness in her voice suddenly fading into unquestionable authority, "and let my power as the Sage of Shadow aid you. Let our powers be as one!"

I recalled this part of the ceremony from my encounters with every other sage, and this time I hoped I was prepared to accept the merging of our energies into one collective power as I gripped the medallion steadily. I wondered, however, if I would be capable of receiving Impa's strength. My vision began to fade as I accepted her offering to me.

An intense moment passed, during which all I remember was mind-numbing agony—then it abruptly gave way to a few seconds of absolute euphoria.

For that moment I was not of this earth. . . .

And then it was over, just as quickly as it had begun, and I became aware of the Chamber of Sages once more.

I was almost chagrined at the familiar setting, until I laid eyes on Impa and understood the depth of the power I had just inherited.

Immediately I averted my gaze from the Sage and looked at the floor. I croaked, "Thank you," in a voice that would have put me to shame at any other moment. But right then, it didn't matter.

"Oh, Link," she replied brightly, "you've no need to thank me. Trust me . . . you've earned it, ten times over." I was about to respond, but she cut me off. "Link, what more is there to discuss? You have your answers. And now you've your responsibility. You have Hyrule to save, and it's time to resume your duties as Hyrule's hero. . . .

"The Hero of Time!"

A droplet of rain on my face—and someone vigorously shaking me—awoke me from my sleep in the Kakariko graveyard.

I didn't remember coming back to the graveyard.

Somewhere, in the deep corners of my memory, I had a vague recollection of a bright light . . . and then I came here. I blinked in confusion. Just where had I been—and how, from there, did I get here?

Suddenly I remembered it all. I sat up with a start, gasping and clutching at my chest as if the mere memory of the Shadow Temple had robbed me of my breath.

"Link! Oh, thank Farore, you're awake," said an oh-so-familiar voice to my right. The shaking ceased.

My body was still screaming out in pain, just as it had been while I fought the Shadow Beast Bongo Bongo. (I swear, by Nayru herself I shall never get over that name!) I ignored the physical agony as best I could and turned to Sheik calmly.

"I suppose I am," I agreed, wishing him to the depths of hell . . . easily attainable, as we both sat upon the pedestal before the entrance to the Shadow Temple. "Although to be honest, Sheik, I can't quite say I'm enjoying it."

I can't swear to it, since the wrappings around his face prevented me from seeing for sure, but I do believe he grinned.

"No worries, Link," he replied, patting my shoulder gently. "You've plenty of time to sleep—but when you came crashing down from the sky and landed on this pedestal, I . . . just panicked."

I couldn't help but smile myself at the image of my bruised and battered body falling from the sky and landing in the graveyard. No wonder I ached. "I came crashing down? My apologies. Blame Impa."

"Very well, then," said Sheik. "I'll do that."

I yawned absently. "Glad to hear it. May I sleep now?"

He nodded.

I smiled at him gratefully, closed my eyes and leaned down, only too thankful for a safe sleeping surface. I deserved it. I had walked into Hell in Hyrule and spent hours—no, days!—defeating the evils that awaited me there. And I had indeed defeated them! I was entitled to my sleep. I had earned it. I had won it. It was mine. My battle.

My victory.

Ah. . . . Blessed Nayru, I liked the taste of victory.

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My apologies for the less-than-adequate length of this chapter. However, this chapter could not possibly be prolonged, and so all I can do is apologise for the long wait without a long chapter to justify it. It took me forever due to two weeks on holiday and a week doing charity work, a week of little to no writing and a week of writing and rewriting. But here it is. As I said before, I hope you're happier with it than I was.

And remember, this story ain't over yet! I'm going to the end of the game, as mentioned before. The Spirit Temple was beckoning me. The chance to reintroduce Link and Zelda was beckoning me and I just had to follow. The chance to reveal Sheik's secrets was begging to be written. So I decided to finish the game. *grin* I'm mentioning this again here, in boldface, so no one reviews me telling me I had a good ending (or a bad ending) or anything about the ending. The ending is not here yet.

Last but not least, to anyone who hasn't read Lady Rose's Legend of Zelda: The Return, leave right now and read that story. Right now. As in, if you've not read that fic and you're still reading this note, you're disobeying me. Don't bother reviewing this story; go read that story, which is vying to claim Darkness Rising's title as my favourite fic ever. Heck—read both of those if you haven't already. Right now. Now, anyone who didn't leave, please go ahead and leave a review. Comments, criticism and compliments are welcome. And don't forget—read The Return as soon as you're done! It's worth the time!