Chapter 11

"I don't understand. We should stay here?"

Sheik was glaring at him, despite the calm, patient tone in her voice. Link turned away, not really wanting to wilt under her gaze.

"I think it would be wiser if we regrouped here and reconsidered our options," he said, looking up. Bannock, now safely back in his Glimmer capsule, had dropped them off in this clearing in the middle of a nearby forest, all tall tress sprinkled with frost. The Glimmer Bird had been both cryptic and eccentric in his reasoning - he said he had curiously 'sensed' that the area was important.

"What options?" she replied. He felt her eyes follow his every movement. "I can only see two. Either we all willingly go back, find your friend and therefore, find the Princess - or I make you do it."

Link decided to take a sudden interest in the trees clawing out of the ground all around them. He looked up to see a canopy of branches, all entwined as though the trees were huddled together, cutting out all sunlight from above. The ground under his feet was soft and soggy, but he couldn't see what he was stepping on because of the thin layer of mist that clung to their ankles. Owls, or some sort of similar creature, hooted in the distance, sounding forlorn and ghostly. What a strange place for Bannock to have left them.

"We stay right here," he said, snapping a twig off a sapling and spraying fresh snow into the air. "We've had an exhausting time and we need to rest before we move on."

There was silence for a moment, before Sheik said softly: "You don't know, do you? You don't know how to find them!"

Link kicked at something in the mist. A hollow thud followed. "Of course I know. It's all a matter of tracking, patience and..." He caught a glimpse of Sheik's glinting eyes. "...well no, I don't really know."

The girl threw back her head and clenched her teeth, hissing. "I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere with no idea where I am and what I'm supposed to do next."

Link shrugged. "Welcome to my world, dear."

Sheik's head snapped back towards him, her eyes bright with a spark of warning. "'Dear?'"

Glancing left and right, Link decided to step back to a safe distance. "Strumpet?"

A flash of metal and, in an instant, the girl was holding a dagger. Pulling back her arm, her eyes narrowed to slits, she prepared to aim it at the young Hylian. Her lips tugged, teasing a smile. Snow fell silently, merging into the mist.

"Wait, wait," Link said, letting his fury bubble once more and striding forward. "Don't point that thing at me. This is all your fault."

"Oh? How so?" Their voices sounded garbled as though something was sucking the air out of the area.

"Whoever this Princess is has cost me my friends and my chance to find my sister. You obviously know her since you're looking for her as well, though you won't tell me exactly why. If it weren't for you and your idiotic Princess, I would be..." He paused, considering his options. "...I would be much better off." He kicked at something again, and a small rock tore through the mist before being swallowed by the darkness.

Link frowned. Doubt trickled in his heart. He could have sworn that there was a tree behind Sheik a moment ago. Now, there was nothing but inky blackness. An icy chill breathed on his neck.

Sheik, not noticing anything out of the ordinary, held his gaze. "Why are you so angry?" she said, her voice still soft. "You weren't like this the last time I met you."

He turned away, forgetting all about the tree. "You don't know what I've been through." He was caught by a sudden surge from within, an ache that begged him to release all his pain to this girl. Deep inside, some childlike part of him hoped that she had the warmth that could ease the painful frost over his soul.

Her scornful snort wasn't what he was expecting. "You think you're the only one who suffers?" she said. A pause, and she took in a deep breath. Link closed his eyes, knowing recognising the gesture from both his sister and Fran - a sermon was coming. "You have to bear with whatever befalls you and make the best of it. You don't give in to your lower ...urges...that makes you no different from the animals. That's not being free, that's being weak. You have to rise above that."

Link blinked. The trees seemed to be have become more closely packed together, like fingers closing into a fist. It was as though they had all taken a step inward. "You're starting to sound like Fran." He felt an itch of irritation - who was she to lecture him?

"Well whoever this 'Fran' is," she replied quickly. "He must be a wise man." She paused as a bird fluttered overhead, disturbing the branches with a rustle. "The Elders in my family." She paused again, and Link caught the strain in her voice, as though she were in pain. He flicked a glance at her, but didn't let it linger. "The Elders...they once told me about a group of warriors - the Boneyard Warriors. They struggled against their own passions, fighting their anger, their greed, their lusts...until their souls were finally set free, reborn, luminous, what all of us were meant to be if we hadn't let ourselves be corrupted and twisted with petty things." Link stared at her, speechless, but impressed by the practised eloquence in her words. "They were unbeatable in battle...do you know why?"

"Go on," Link said, interested despite himself.

"Because they knew that once they had conquered themselves, nobody else could conquer them." Awe crept into her voice, and Link's heart couldn't help but respond to it. "They knew they had already defeated their worst enemies - their own egos. All that was left were true humans, selfless and holy - heroes."

The word set off a spring of conflicting feelings in Link's soul. Temptation taunted him - the very idea that he could be far beyond what he was now made his heart ache. It was only then that he realised how much he despised himself. Assassin. Murderer. He closed his eyes. "It sounds difficult."

"It is," she said. What was that - had he caught a hint of hope in her voice? Or was it passion? "But not impossible. You have to have faith and fight; purify your heart like iron scorched of impurities by a blacksmith."

"Is that so?" Link said, something cold and dead creeping into his voice. "Didn't I catch you stealing when we first met?"

Anger laced both her eyes and her words. "You don't know me."

Their gazes locked for an instant and, for one bizarre pair of heartbeats, the world slowed, their eyes flashing. He felt something...something invisible, like the tightening of a chain. A sense of familiarity pricked at his thoughts, and something bubbled within him, burning the coldness away. It was an idea, a thought wrapped in hope - the idea that this girl before him mattered in a way that he didn't yet understand. For another heartbeat, he felt whole, complete, like he truly belonged, as though the One, Unseen had guided him to complete serenity. The feeling was exhilarating, almost intoxicating. And then it was gone, and he was shaking his head.

He gave a short laugh. "Make yourself useful," he said. "And try and find something we can use for shelter." He thought back to the horses and supplies Fran and the others had left back at the village. "We'll be needing food, too."

A gasp made him spin around. He caught a glimpse of Sheik's panic coated eyes. "What is-"

He saw it. The mist was rising, forming into misshapen fingers with wispy claws. All of a sudden Link and Sheik were face to face, the trees, black and gouged with deep, wrinkled grooves, pushing them violently together. Voices flittered from one side to another - gasps and sighs, a weeping woman; a man, howling with fear, his voice heavy with insanity. Link tried to look at his friend, tried to catch a sight of her wide, blue eyes, but in a blur she was gone.

Panic clouded his mind, spiking into his heart. The world turned upside down, everything moving ever so slowly. Colour vanished with a dull flash, leaving behind a burnt grey landscape. A statue stood, rock still, red eyes watching impassively. The mist parted, then reformed into another, more familiar shape. Link tried to open his mouth to scream in horror, but he felt smothered, as though in a dream. The shape hovering in front of him was his own head, grinning menacingly and dripping droplets of mist that flashed crimson, then went black.

The apparition of his head opened its mouth, and the voice that emerged was like the anguished screams of a thousand tortured souls speaking all at once. "...Heart of darkness...one of you holds the heart of darkness..."

Sheik appeared in front of him, her image fractured into a hundred parts. Voices spoke again; shouts, laughs, idle conversation - different facets from different times. The image of Sheik turned, her neck creaking as though unused for aeons, and faced him, a line of needle thin teeth arranged in a gruesome mockery of a smile. It spoke, a childlike voice that gradually became deeper and deeper. "...a mountain of melancholy...The Sword of Velvet Night...shattered knight...shattered soul..."

The world righted itself, save for the statue, and the real Sheik was beside him once more. One quick glance at her face told Link that she felt the same fear that he did. Her features - what he could see of them, anyway - had softened to an almost innocent visage. Instinctively his heart lurched, wanting to protect her. His fingers brushed against hers, but she pulled away, confused. He couldn't tell what had restrained her - modesty or fear? Still. He knew that perhaps he had taken too bold a step. There were still some lines that he was not allowed to cross, and the fact that he felt shame made him realise that he hadn't rid himself of his past as deeply as he had thought.

The statue made a noise, an echoing whisper of a sigh that faded into silence. A low growl rumbled from deep inside the effigy, then it's mouth split open in an evil grin. Blue sparks ignited, before an incandescent green halo appeared in the air, crackling from above and bathing them all in an emerald glow.

"Come with us," the statue said. "The Master wishes to speak with thee. Sacred Land, you step upon."

Link flipped his crossbow into his hand, Sheik doing the same with her weapons.

"Who are you?" the girl said, strength flooding into her voice. Link was impressed with her once again, this time at how quickly she had regained her composure. "What do you want with us?"

The statue disappeared. Link felt cold droplets of sweat trickle down his forehead. The two friends looked at each other warily, silent except for the mournful hooting of a distant owl.

Link jumped as he felt a presence by his shoulder, cold breath sighing against his face. "Your parents," the statue said. "They would have wished this."

The young Hylian spun around angrily. "What do you know of my -" But the strange creature had gone.

"Your parents, your ancestors...the Master will tell thee." The voice was coming from below them now, as though the mist itself could talk. Come with us, we shall show you the way."

Link flexed his fingers around the trigger of his crossbow, his gloves crackling from the movement. Curiosity wanted him to plunge onward, to see what this creature knew and wanted. Caution held him back, however. Still. If it had wanted them harmed, it could have done so by now.

He looked at Sheik. "What do you think?"

The girl folded her arms across her chest, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I say we stay right here."

Link grinned. "Exactly."

...

Sparkling sunlight washed the streets as they made their way down the cobbled, dusty pathways, their boots tapping against stone, their shoulders hunched against the cold. Hushed conversations and the charred, mouth-watering smell of roasted meat hung in the air all around them, warm reminders of a close-knit community. The people paid no attention to them, busy with their daily duties, laughing, scowling, or just cocooned in self-absorption as they weaved in and out of the small, grey structures that passed for buildings in this town. Stonewall Village, Fran realised, reminded him a lot of his old hometown of Lon Lon.

They were all dressed in cloaks and hoods now, hoping to stay hidden, though Eagle, because of his size, did attract a few curious glances. The big man had been instrumental in their escape. Like a battering ram of muscle, he had ploughed through the guards and prisoners, while the rest of them had followed in his wake. Cracking heads like they were Deku Nuts, he had worked the portcullis, opening it so that they could flee, before he himself had scattered the incoming guards that stood between them and the open air.

Fran still felt a touch of awe at the memory. He wondered what they would have done if the Bounty Hunter had not been there. How lucky for them, but Fran had long since given up believing in 'luck'. Whatever it was that guided their movements, it always seemed to cast a somewhat protective eye over them and had been very generous in its aid. He hoped it would last.

The Princess stood apart from them, head bowed and arms folded. "This is troubling," she said, her voice weighty with sadness.

"An understatement, Your Highness," Fran replied. Despite the colour of her eyes and hair she looked little like the Princess Zelda that he had known. And yet, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of warmth towards her. She was a familiar anchor in what was still, for him, an unfamiliar world.

"Sahasrahla's message mentions that the Cycle has begun," she continued, raising a finger to her lips thoughtfully. "My family had prepared me for this moment since the day I was born." She shivered, and Fran knew it was not from the cold. "But I didn't expect things to take so drastic a..." She shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts. "My family are now..." Her voice broke, and she was unable to finish.

Fran pursed his lips, resisting the urge to cradle her as though she were his daughter. He looked ahead and decided that it would be better if he could keep them all focused. "We'll take the long way round to Sahasrahla," he said, his tone businesslike. "I'm sure he will know what to do next."

"It is not good..." Eagle rumbled from behind them

"...to place so much trust in one person," Rya finished.

The Princess shifted her face under her hood so that she could address them. Her eyes glistened from within. "Why are you two still with us?" she said, without malice. "Fran led me to believe that all you want is payment."

Eagle grunted. "He hired us to rescue you...

"...and keep you safe," his sister said.

Fran cocked an eyebrow. There was a hint of stiff pride in their voices.

"It would not be honourable to desert you..." Eagle said.

"...when your safety has not yet been ensured."

The Princess turned away, dodging little children that scampered into her path, oblivious to all around them. Her face hardened into something indecipherable when she saw them, though her mouth did stretch into a tight smile. "If we can find a local Treasury," she said. "I'm sure I can supply some funds to compensate you for your troubles." This time her voice was hard. She swallowed, before continuing, "It isn't much, let me warn you now. It was meant to be a reserve for my relatives." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Little good that will do now."

"We understand, Mistress," Eagle said.

"We thank you," Rya added.

Nodding slightly, the Princess leaned closer to Fran, trying to make herself heard in amongst the laughing and the shouts of the traders as they let everyone know of their prices in booming voices. "So, who is the enemy?" she said. "The Gerudo King?"

Fran twitched, licking his lips. The Princess' voice was becoming increasingly bitter, as though all sense of warmth were being torn from it. She was sounding less and less like 'his' Zelda by the minute. "I don't think so," he said. "I believe our enemy is Hylian."

Her eyes widened for a heartbeat, froze, then reverted back to a passive calm almost instantly. She offered no comments.

Not sure how to phrase his thoughts, Fran bit the inside of his cheek. "Did anyone survive?" he asked, the awkwardness in his voice making him blush. He hissed inwardly. An old man, he was, and he should be beyond the point where anyone or anything could embarrass him.

The Princess closed her eyes. "No, I don't think so," she said. "There were two of us. One escaped, but I watched them shoot her in her tracks." Her cheeks clenched, and her skin took on a tint of rose. "What happened to your friend?"

The old man blinked, caught off by the sudden change of subject. Fear stroked his heart as he thought about Link. "He's a resourceful young lad," he said slowly. "I'm sure he escaped. He must have escaped."

The Princess raised an eyebrow, walked on in silence for a moment, then spoke in a careful tone: "Is he the one?"

"We believe so," Fran answered, without hesitating.

"Interesting," she replied. Another heartbeat of silence, the hustle and bustle of the town melting into the background. "His weapon. The way he reacted to me. He seems to be one of the King's assassins."

Fran opened his mouth, but he couldn't find the appropriate words. His heart drummed in his chest, though he was mildly impressed by her perceptiveness.

She raised a hand. "No, no explanations," she said with a sigh. The Princess looked at the three of them, and finally a genuine smile spread across her face. "Let's find Sahasrahla. And let's hope he has the answers I seek."

...

Sheik awoke, her heart pounding. She glanced around their small campsite, noticing the last glowing embers of their fire floating away into darkness. Somewhere nearby, she could hear Link snoring softly. She smiled, not really knowing why that comforted her heart. The trees had - somehow - parted, revealing a pathway, at the head of which stood the statue, silent, cold, and waiting for their decision. They were in no hurry to find one.

She stood, instinctively hugging herself from the chill. What had woken her?

Taking a few steps in the darkness, she could faintly see the mist swirling around her ankles. She let her gaze wander, letting it rest upon Link for a moment, before looking away. A whirl of emotions buffeted her mind. Who was this young man? Why was she compelled to stay with him?

She recalled their conversation earlier on, remembered the hollow pain she saw in his eyes - eyes that looked empty and pinched, as though they were black coals being forced to stay in place. Her instincts flooded back to her, the desire to ease another's hurt, though she bitterly wished she wouldn't be distracted by it. There were more important things for her to worry about than a young man's turmoil. She glanced at him one last time, saw him shift wordlessly on the ground, and sucked on her teeth. A thought soared in her heart that made her fell both strangely giddy and elated. He was important. She didn't know why, but something told her he was.

Shaking her head, she let out a tired breath. Such silly thoughts. She felt the crunch of seeds under her boots, leftovers from their only meal.

They had found the berries earlier on in the evening, enough to still the clawing pangs of hunger, but not enough to completely remove them. She was used to be being hungry, though. Still. She felt like something to eat now, if only to have something to do. Scanning the area with squinted eyes, she seaaaaaakkkg lhlhlhll..vggghhhhhh kkjjllglggggggggggggggggggggg...

...

...and he awoke, a Conquerer. Flames burned in all around him, curling into the sky and illuminating his face. Victory was in his grasp, sweet like honey and fresh milk, and he would not let it go. They chanted his name - he couldn't tell whether it was out of fear or love. He didn't care. The land was his, and power pulsed in veins, making him restless. He had to use it. Display it for all to see. All who had opposed him had now been crushed, ground under his foot into dust.

Except for small pathetic pockets of resistance. One such rebel leader was brought forward now, cowering in fear. Good. That was the way it should be. The people watched, waiting expectantly. He would not let them down. The rebel looked up at him, straightening his shoulders in one final act of defiance. The fool.

Slowly he drew his sword, letting the metallic slither ring out in the chamber. He waited for one heartbeat, teasing the crowd. Then he swung, a neat slice straight through the rebel's head. Blood gushed into the hair like a fountain, coating his cloak and face in sticky, crimson fluid. Some of the onlookers fainted. Others gagged. All of them were wide eyed with shock.

Throwing back his head, he laughed and laughed and laughed. It shook his massive frame, and he could feel the Power surge up from within. The onlookers scattered, screaming. But all this did was to make him bellow even harder, a louuuuughh heeeeegghhjj lllgggzz...

...

...Sheik fell to her knees, gasping for air. She scrabbled about, desperately searching for something to hold onto, her pain-wracked mind begging to know that she had returned to reality. She glanced down at herself, half dreading the image that she thought she would see - an image of her covered in blood. But there was nothing there, except her own body.

The world spun. The vision had been so vivid, so real. Head lowered, fists clenched, and gritting her teeth, she fought against the hot stab of pain beating against her head. Her body shook, wanting to retch, but she held it in. She would not be weakened by the apparition, she would not. Before it had been nothing more than a disembodied voice, but this - she had no words for it.

Hot tears stung her eyes, and she began shuddering, a slow tremble that grew into violent convulsions. As the sweet release of sleep swallowed her once more, only one thought followed her down into the darkness: what was happening to her?