HIYA! Sorry it's been so long, but this chapter is a bit longer and better written than the last one, I'm sure you'll find.
AN: I've been thinking about writing a little fiction about Aldrien. You know, giving his background, a bit more of his childhood, how he developed into what he is, family life, social life...The basics, up until he is introduced in this story. Let me know what you think, and R&R! ^_^ 3
Chapter Six: Death in the Castle
Epona flew the remaining distance to the castle, shoes clattering over the cobblestone pathways until she reached the town's drawbridge, where four human guards stood, spears poised to attack any intruders. The prince stopped abruptly, and Epona reared, and he stared down at the guards, absorbing their forlorn expressions as they returned his gaze.
"Master guard, what is the trouble here?"
"Death in the castle, My Lord, it would be best if you go quickly. They may need you."
Aldrien felt his stomach drop to his feet, and only after nodding his appreciation to the guard, did he set Epona off and into the marketplace.
The town usually bustled with activity, even so early in the morning, but that morning only the shopkeepers and merchants were there, tending their stores and stands, polishing their wares, none stopping to even regard the high prince as he rode past. And quickly he did ride, through the larger marketplace and through the main plaza, leading Epona quietly through the streets and to the newly paved pathway that led to the castle's courtyard.
Aldrien's dread gathered until it was nearly intolerable as he rounded the first turn in the path, coming to the palace gates. Why they had set the huge, towering gates so far back from the palace had always been a mystery, and this day, more surprisingly, there were no guards watching the gates.
"Damned guards," Aldrien cursed under his breath as he dismounted, patting Epona approvingly on the flank, "leaving the gate without lookout."
He shoved against the gate, but it would not give. And with a cry of frustration, Aldrien noted the huge locks along the center of the gates, where they came together, and whirled on his heel, pacing back to his horse. He tethered her gently to the tree near the bend he had just rounded, and turned to the wall, half dreading the climb that laid ahead of him.
Those vines were ancient, he knew. His mother had recounted many tales of her outside visitors climbing up the walls, sneaking past the guards and into her private courtyard, and at that time, he recalled every detail. Up the vines he climbed, cursing his bad luck all the way, but taking great care not to snag his royal blue tunic on the thorns, until finally he reached the top, twenty feet off of the ground. He pulled himself onto the plateau and rushed across to the gates, surveying from high the path that snaked northward to the castle. There were no guards in sight, not even guarding the main gates, and the prince could only guess that those were locked tight as well. But he jumped down anyway, and if the long fall caused him any pain he did not show it, for he continued to sprint around the path, up the hills outside of the castle, and through the outside gardens. The tiny grove outside of the main gates had not grown at all since he had been born, no new trees had grown, and through them, he could easily verify that no guards were at their posts that day.
On he ran, until he came to the main gates, locked tight, and thus he turned once again, making his way to the wall on his left, where more thorned vines grew. He climbed them with the same foul tempered attitude and jumped down onto the white stone pathway that led around the castle's moat, making his way around the back of the castle, figuring it to be the only way he would get inside.
He only could hope that he was small enough to fit through the hole that lead to the courtyard.
But to his relief, he was able to easily clear the short jump over the moat at that point, and through the small hole he crawled, emerging on the inside of the castle's main walls. He ran onward, through the gardens and around vine covered bends, not a single guard to be seen, until he reached the main courtyard, where his mother usually stayed.
It was at that point that the dread filled his heart the most.
How long had he been gone? Four weeks on his last mission, four weeks at the least. And in that span of two fortnights, the gardens had become unkept, dirty, overgrown with weeds and vines, as if no one had tended them for some time. His pace slowed then, and he looked up at the sun. Red it was, red it would remain for the remainder of the day, and judging by its position, that day had just begun. He strode cautiously over the vines, taking great care to avoid stepping on any of the few remaining flowers, until he reached the pedestal where his mother often sat when he was a child, holding him on her lap, telling him stories of his father, long since deceased, telling him of the many trials that they had endured, and ultimately of how her kingdom had come to be the way that it was.
But he knew well that there was no time for nostalgia, and he stared hard at the window before him, open as usual. The prince humbled himself for that slight moment, and squeezed himself into the window, falling gracelessly into the corridors between his quarters when he was home, and the rest of the guards' wing.
Aldrien brought himself to his feet and brushed the dirt from his cloak and tunic, and began off through the winding stone corridors of the castle, through the huge west wing, until he came to the main entryway of the castle, where he finally found the first life he'd seen since that morning at the gate.
Two guards stood, spears in hand, at the huge, oaken doors to the throne room, and apparently, they had been awaiting Aldrien's return. One of the two, the scrawnier, approached the Hylian with little more than a nod to acknowledge that he was in the presence of a higher power.
"Young Master Elf," he began, his customary greeting to the elven lord, "it is urgent. Lord Kimmendell has been awaiting your return with the palace messenger. Where, I pray, is he?"
"Messenger?" Aldrien inquired, voice stern, brow furrowed with a puzzled expression. "When was he sent?"
"A fortnight passed–we were worried that he would not make it to you in time, seeing as how you were in the southernmost parts of Kakariko. It is well known the great distances to be crossed from there to here..."
"I never saw your messenger. I came of my own accord, I have a ship leaving the port city at noon. What is the trouble?"
"Your mother..."
It was all that had to be said. Aldrien's bright blue eyes widened in uncharacteristic horror, and he shoved the guard away, storming through the great double doors, leaving barely enough time for the remaining guard to open them for him. But the prince cared nothing for ceremony at that point–he only wished to see his mother, and he passed through the heavily guarded outer hallway to the throne room with a mass of twelve guards at his heels, begging him to calm himself before he approached the human ruler of Hyrule.
Aldrien would hear none of it. The assassin had taken the cool-headed prince's place, and was bent on revenge for whatever had taken his mother. And in his rage, he approached the heavy double doors that led into the throne room, shoving them open with all of his strength, succeeding where two of the strongest guards would have failed, and barreled into the presence of his human king.
"What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded coldly, loudly, as he stepped right up to the golden, jeweled throne where Kimmendell, the human directly under Marik sat, tapping his fingernails impatiently on the arm of the great chair. "What demon has taken my mother from me?! What sort of..."
"Aldrien, my son, calm yourself," Kimmendell replied cooly, leaning forward to clasp his white gloved hands in his lap. "The Lady Zelda passed peacefully."
"You did it, didn't you, you filthy human! You took my mother's life! And without such a warning to me?! What makes you honestly trust that I will not come to kill you in your sleep for such a brash action against mine own blood?!"
"You have more tact than that. My personal assassin would not act against his master, his keeper, his king. Am I not correct in this observation?" the baritone replied, eyeing Aldrien's hands on the hilts of his twin weapons.
It took every ounce of restraint contained in the prince's fair frame to hold himself back. He knew well that the repercussions that the slaughter of a king, no matter how tyrannical, would be grave. He realized that it was no coincidence that Kimmendell had sent him away on a long winded mission, and for the time being, Aldrien would have to settle with speech.
"You will provide my mother with proper funeral services upon my return from this mission, and now you will provide me with the proper supplies for my departure, as well as a cleric to make my road back to the southern ports of Kakariko swift, since you have caused me such a painful inconvenience, will you not, Kimmendell?"
Aldrien eyed the well clothed, muscular king with a well restrained scorn, and Kimmendell knew well that any threat that passed the lips of Aldrien of the House of Royals was not idle. The king could only nod his head, his black locks falling over his robed shoulders.
"Where is my mother now?" the Hylian demanded.
Kimmendell shrugged and looked to the side, "She must by this time be wandering the valleys under the guidance of you damnable Hylians' goddesses. So much good they do you in the end."
Twin knives were snapped from their sheathes and were held at the king's unprotected throat, their wielder pressing hard enough for Kimmendell to realize the obvious danger he had put himself in. With a flick of Aldrien's well trained hands, he would meet his gruesome end by means of decapitation. But there was one idea left, the only concept that would hold the wild assassin in check.
"Treason," he whispered quietly, only loud enough for Aldrien to hear, "high treason is punishable by painful torture and death, and if that be the case, you will not be able to see to it that your mother receives the treatment in death that she deserves."
"Damn your words!" Aldrien spat, drawing thin lines of blood against the king's throat as he replaced the swords in their sheathes, storming from the room.
"Oh, and son!" Kimmendell laughed after him, "her body lies locked in the cellars, being tended to by the rats, and your supplies wait in the kitchens!"
"I am not your son!" the prince shouted in reply as he slammed the huge doors behind him, taking his leave from the throne room.
He damned himself, cursed himself to the deepest abysses imaginable for allowing his mother to be slaughtered and fed to the rats. But there was nothing that he could do, no way that he alone could go against the king and all of his underlings. Much less when the kingdom that was rightfully his was so close to ruin. He could only accept that his mother was dead, never to return, and that he would have to continue his mission for the good of his people, and for the safety and false security of his kingdom.
In the throne room, however, the meeting had not yet been adjourned. Beside Kimmendell sat his head advisor, a human by the name of Crienath. The two, though just finished with Aldrien, had already become engrossed in their next conversation.
"Milord Kimmendell," the advisor began, "I beg you allow me to share my plans for that one..."
"Do as you will," replied the king nonchalantly.
Crienath smiled a malicious smile and knelt before the king's throne, beginning his long explanation.
"Marik himself sent word to us from the Under World," he started, "he says that he wishes Aldrien to be killed along with his mother. That will leave only the humans to the throne, save for Marik himself, who can be resurrected with but a few minor enchantments."
"But that resurrection would be false," Kimmendell argued with a pause, "he would be only on this plane in spirit, not in physical form. To complete the revolution of this country we must have him here entirely."
"Yes, that is but a matter of time. Once we get the boy's blood, it will be far easier to physically manifest Marik on this plane and bring him back entirely. In the end Aldrien would die anyway. At least this way it is for our mutual benefit, yes, my lord?"
"Indeed. But Aldrien is such a valuable asset to our ranks–it would be a shame to rid ourselves of him at this point. Especially with the Hylians near extinction."
"You should have thought of that before locking his father away in that crystal before the revolution then, shouldn't you? That will surely have killed the man, and he was the last of the bloodline of the House of Royals, save of course for Aldrien himself."
"Aye, I should have thought of that," Kimmendell reasoned with himself, stroking a hand along the gentle curves of his clean shaven chin, "then Aldrien must die. Do as you will, though make certain to gather enough of his lifeblood to make the enchantment complete."
"Yes, My Lord."
"And Crienath..." Kimmendell began as his advisor turned to leave, and only after he turned did the lord continue, "send Aldrien on a mission–an absurd one. While he is out at sea we can have him search for the shards, the final piece to the resurrection of Marik."
"Yes, milord."
* * * * *
Link and Captain Troe had been sitting at the small square table in the captain's quarters for hours, speaking of events passed and those to come. Link had barely touched the generous meal that had been laid before him, still untrusting of the time's foods, but rather, watched as the polite human across from him ate slowly and cleanly.
"Do tell me what happened, now that we have agreed to your little proposal," the Hylian began quietly, picking up the hardened biscuit that sat on the edge of the plate. It was the only thing on the table that even remotely reminded him of home–wherever that place might have been.
"We found ye in the cells in Kakariko, as ye know. But before that, we had only heard rumors of ye. Aside from their Majesties Lord Aldrien and Lady Zelda there were no Hylians in this world–when we heard that there was another of yer kind we had to find ye before ye were executed. The most logical place to start the lookin' would have been Kakariko, of course, seein' as how the Other-lands execute Hylians on sight–or at least did when there were some of ye left. Aldrien is the only one of yer kind that can travel this land freely."
"Executed, you say," Link looked away with a sigh of relief after finally hearing the mention of Zelda, out the circular window at the side of the cabin. All that he could see was the wide ocean for miles around until the sea green met sky blue at the horizon. It was that exact ocean that was separating him from her at that very moment, and how he wished to cross it and be home again.
"A pity indeed. My men and yourn had an alliance fifteen years ago."
"And who, my I ask, is this Aldrien person?"
"Ah, son of Lady Zelda," the captain retorted with a smile, hearing Link's unexcited reference to the boy, "he is a fine warrior, I can assure you that much. It's rumored that he is an assassin in Kakariko, for the highest of the Moguls around and even for Lord Kimmendell at Hyrule Castle as well. Ah, but even if that be true he'd never let his mother know that, it would crush her."
"A strong boy indeed–I should like to meet him."
"Not a wise wantin' if ye ask me. But mayap you'll get what ye want."
The Hylian shook his head and urged the conversation along, "And what of me before you found me?"
"The rumors told that ye had washed ashore in what was the Gerudo Desert, now the main ports of Kakariko," the captain replied.
"The town has expanded much then."
"Aye. The main city of Hyrule, even more so than the castle town."
The captain looked up and grinned, shook his head, and leaned back, pushing his empty plate away from him. He folded his bony hands behind his head and fixed his emerald eyes on the elf, who by this time was feasting greedily on the food laid before him. Apparently the long stretch without food had finally taken its toll on him.
* * * * * Aldrien shook his head and leaned on the windowsill, bare hands gripping the stone, and stared out the window of his bedroom for a brief moment, gathering himself together. He had but a mere hour and a half before his ship was set to leave, and that morning had passed in an exhausting blur of emotions and information. But his men were waiting, at least they were if they had the nerve to stay, and down the hall, his caretaker and the castle's head cleric waited to take him to the docks.
"Aldrien?"
He looked over at the bed at the glowing patch of pink light that fluttered around. That fairy had been around the castle for as long as he could remember, and for some reason had never left him alone. This time was no different.
"What?" he retorted angrily, turning back to the window.
"Do you really wish for her death to go without punishment?"
Rage welled within him for the moment, but he did not let it show. He calmed himself and remained coolheaded, outwardly, and turned back around, leaning against the windowsill, then spoke, "I do not mean for that to be the case, but for now I must return to Kakariko. Lady Impa waits for me in her quarters and my men are there with a ship."
"A ship?"
"I have a mission before me... A new one, from Kimmendell."
"And that would be?"
"It would seem as though finding the pirates that ravaged Kakariko has been taken off of the fire, as they say. My new goal is to find the four shards of the Hylian crystal, though for what purpose I am yet unsure of..."
The young prince clasped his broach together, binding his Hylian cloak around his neck, and strode from the room, the fairy close on his heels. She buzzed in his long, pointed ears for a moment, before he gave in and scooped her to sit on his shoulder, where she always found her place.
Aldrien made his way through the winding stone hallways of the palace, taking no note of the perfectly polished and shining armors that hung and stood around the place, brushing past the countless floor-to-ceiling tapestries that adorned the walls in places. The most heed he gave to anything was to shield his eyes while passing through the brightly lit corridors leading to the royal's wing, where Impa stayed, and he, by rights, should have been housed.
Those corridors had always been his favorite place to go as a child, before he was thrown from his world of innocence into the streets of Kakariko under the command of Kimmendell. He would sit for hours admiring the stained glass windows, listening to his mother tell the stories contained in them.
But he had not heard one of those stories in many years, fifteen if he remembered correctly. He had barely been home in that time, long enough to share a dinner with his mother and Impa, and to receive his next mission from Kimmendell. Then he would be off again, spending most of his life living in the southernmost parts of Kakariko, sometimes traveling for months over the seas to live in the Other-Lands and establish a name for himself. As one of the only Hylians left, it was up to him to make sure that they were well respected, no matter the cost.
Aldrien pushed the door to Impa's quarters open and knocked on the outside wall, stepping inside. She stood in all of her elder glory in the corner of the room, dressed in a traditional dress from before the revolution, a cloak wrapped tightly around her sturdy shoulders to keep the chill of the castle away. When she turned, her cloak spun around her torso, and she smiled warmly, inviting the young prince inside. He stepped up to her and bowed respectfully, always happy to see her still alive.
"Master Aldrien, I see you've returned to us again," she began, her voice as young sounding as it always had been, "however in these sad times I'm afraid your welcome was not as grand as usual."
"A mere sentiment, m'lady Impa."
"If I had known of the tragedy I would have contacted you sooner."
"But you did not, and for that you cannot harbor blame," he gave another bow, lower this time, and as he came up, took her wrinkled hand in his and kissed it gently, respectfully, as if he had done wrong to her. "I thank you for your assistance in my departure."
"It is my pleasure, child. However, there are a few things I need to inform you of ere you leave."
Aldrien leaned against the wall and watched the elderly woman turn away from him and pass to the other side of the room before she finally began to speak in a hushed tone.
"Aldrien, I am afraid that you are in grave danger."
The assassin could have laughed, had he less respect for the woman. But he kept his tongue still and remained expressionless, nodding for the woman to continue. "Go on, Impa."
"Marik wishes you dead. In an earlier scrying, performed a fortnight passed, I overheard Marik and Lord Advisor Crienath conversing transdimensionally."
"What did they say?" Aldrien returned, his demeanor changing to concern. It was a rarity that Impa told of her scryings, as they were oft performed in complete secrecy, and were meant to remain so, and only when the matter was of great import did she speak of them to anyone.
"They spoke of your death.. I cannot be certain exactly how, or when, but I am positive that there will be an attack aimed against you at some point in your upcoming journey. I pray you take great care to avoid contact with others at all costs. If you must do so, remain on your ship, and only make contact with your home guild houses, and only when absolutely necessary."
Aldrien looked away. Impa had been the only outsider to know of his position as assassin in much of the world, and though she did not approve, she knew it was his way of protecting Lady Zelda, by keeping Kimmendell and Marik's all seeing eyes on him, rather than her.
But Impa kept talking.
"Make certain you keep a low profile."
"As if anything else could be expected?"
Impa nodded her accord and knelt down next to a small wooden cupboard, and opened the heavily ornamented door. She pulled from it a thickly bound book of dark green leather, and stood back up. Clutching the book to her chest, she walked to Aldrien and handed it over gently to him, nodding as she did.
"This was your father's."
Aldrien stared at the book for a long while, cerulean eyes filled with curiosity. He almost dreaded opening the thing, after all that he had heard about his father.
"What is it?"
"His diary."
Aldrien's jaw dropped as he stared, taking in the size of it. It had to be at least three inches thick, and as he flipped through the pages to the back, the print was tiny, and stretched from cover to cover, every inch of every page with some kind of marking or symbol. He looked up at Impa once again, who simply stood with her arms crossed across her chest, grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear.
"His diary," the assassin repeated.
"I want you to read it," she replied, nodding to him. "I figured that it might help you along if you knew what you were getting into," the nurse continued, readying herself to create the portal. "It is rumored that the shards of the jewel were thrown into four of the old sages' temples. Your mother told you of those, I am sure."
"Briefly," Aldrien replied quietly, scanning the first page of the great book, "in what she called a false future. Forest, Fire, Water, Shadow, Spirit, and Light, though I do not quite recall the telling of a temple of light."
"That temple was never discovered, but you will find that your father visited and explored each of the other temples thoroughly. Read and learn, Aldrien, my son. I implore you to find the four shards, just as Lord Kimmendell bade you, but once found you must keep them, bind the jewel, and bring it back to me to be destroyed," she clasped her hands to her chest and turned to face the assassin. "You must do this, banish Marik to the dark realms, and decapitate the human forces. Once Marik is gone, Kimmendell will have no where to turn to, nowhere to go, and then you can avenge the deaths of your dear parents, who died because of Marik and his dark lords!"
Aldrien was completely silenced, genuinely startled by Impa's request. She had never before uttered such blasphemous remarks concerning Marik, who oft times was considered by the people of Hyrule to be no more than a spiritual deity, than she just had. Had anyone overheard her speech, she would be dead before Aldrien ever returned from his lengthy mission, and with all of the eyes about the castle, that fate was more than a possibility. Much more, and Aldrien knew.
It was all that the assassin could do to accept her request with a silent nod, and watch as she conjured the dimensional portal to Kakariko.
* * * * *
The Kriashase made port in the Other-Land city of Fort Root, a place much larger than Kakariko, surrounded on all sides by a huge stone wall, an impenetrable fortress that was guarded on all sides by heavily armored, and heavily armed human soldiers. The crew had disembarked, and had been staying in one of the more dingy inns of the city, but no one minded.
On one unremarkable night, several of the crewmen had ventured away from the inn and down to the slums of the city, where one of the most popular pubs sat in the middle of the plaza. Link and Troe had accompanied them, if only to assure that they stayed far from harm, and now sat on the tall stools at the bar table talking quietly amongst themselves.
"You have seen the looks that they give you here, have you not?"
Link nodded and looked down, examining the drink in his hands. The people of Fort Root had been eyeing him suspiciously, and maybe it was because he wore his hood low over his face to hide his elven features, knowing well that if they saw him, he would not live long enough to see the sea again.
"It is because I am an elf. A petty reason for such a strong hatred."
"But to them it is justified," Troe replied, taking a generous sip of the thick mead, slamming the mug back down on the wooden table.
"Justified?" Link growled in reply, his anger mounting slowly but surely. "How can you honestly call such a stupid thing justified?"
Troe looked around, seeing the expressions plastered on the surrounding mens' faces. At every table there were at least three well built humans that towered more than a foot above Link, staring angrily at him, hands clenching their mugs until their knuckles turned white for lack of blood. He then turned his expression to Link. The Hylian stared down, blue eyes locked in an icy gaze on his hands. His anger was apparent at that point, the captain had never seen him quite so emotional before, and wasn't sure if it was his place to say something or not.
"Link, me boy. Quiet yerself," he began quietly, leaning over to the elf next to him. "I'll tell ye the reason they hate yer kind, I will."
Link looked up, his face once again taking on the stoic expression it usually held. With a sigh, he resigned himself to listening to the captain, and took another sip of his water.
"It be Aldrien's fault, but may whatever deity is there bless him."
"There are deities there, Troe'kanoi. There are. And they have gifted the boy with unimaginable skills."
"Bless them, then, as well," the elderly human continued, tapping his fingernails against his cup, "but Aldrien. Ah, the boy. He scares them, he does. A Hylian noble with that much power these days be intimidating enough, aye, but to be head assassin of the highest power in all of Hyrule, that be a different story altogether."
"An interesting story, that it is," the Hylian agreed with a nod. He looked back over at Troe and closed his eyes, heaving a deep sigh, and continued, "It makes me wonder if even I could attain such a reputation here."
"I have heard," Troe continued with a hushed tone, clearing his throat to abruptly switch subjects, "that Aldrien himself is pursuing us, even over the vast oceans. And as a side mission, Kimmendell has sent him after the same shards as us."
Link looked up with and uncharacteristic start, eyes wide, and shook his head. He returned his gaze to the table and bit his lower lip, realizing the danger that his presence had put his human companions in. "How long now, do we have? How far behind us are they, I mean?"
"Not far enough for comfort, me boy. He has apparently hired a speedy merchant vessel, much smaller and as fast as ours. With the waters as calm as they've been lately, he'll be here within two days. If we are not off of the mainland by that time, we will surely bring havoc to this town."
"But where will we go? The temples are somewhere near the main island of Hyrule, are they not?" Link questioned.
"No."
Link looked up again and quirked a confused eyebrow, eyes full of curiosity. "Then where?"
"In the shifting of this world, after Marik's henchmen gained control, the land split and changed. The outermost portions of the mainland that you once occupied have broken away and are now floating as solitary islands somewhere out there. Some could even be on the particularly ugly hunk of rock on which we now sit. I do not know where they are. We will have to search."
"Oh."
Troe looked over at his Hylian friend and offered a warm smile. It was all he could do to keep from laughing at the horribly distraught expression that graced his fine, elven features. The captain then stood and clapped Link on the shoulder, nodding to him.
"I'll be at the hotel if ye need me, boy. Ye needn't be afraid of these streets. Ye look enough like Aldrien to keep the thieves off of ye!"
And with that, the human exited the bar, leaving Link alone with his thoughts.
AN: I've been thinking about writing a little fiction about Aldrien. You know, giving his background, a bit more of his childhood, how he developed into what he is, family life, social life...The basics, up until he is introduced in this story. Let me know what you think, and R&R! ^_^ 3
Chapter Six: Death in the Castle
Epona flew the remaining distance to the castle, shoes clattering over the cobblestone pathways until she reached the town's drawbridge, where four human guards stood, spears poised to attack any intruders. The prince stopped abruptly, and Epona reared, and he stared down at the guards, absorbing their forlorn expressions as they returned his gaze.
"Master guard, what is the trouble here?"
"Death in the castle, My Lord, it would be best if you go quickly. They may need you."
Aldrien felt his stomach drop to his feet, and only after nodding his appreciation to the guard, did he set Epona off and into the marketplace.
The town usually bustled with activity, even so early in the morning, but that morning only the shopkeepers and merchants were there, tending their stores and stands, polishing their wares, none stopping to even regard the high prince as he rode past. And quickly he did ride, through the larger marketplace and through the main plaza, leading Epona quietly through the streets and to the newly paved pathway that led to the castle's courtyard.
Aldrien's dread gathered until it was nearly intolerable as he rounded the first turn in the path, coming to the palace gates. Why they had set the huge, towering gates so far back from the palace had always been a mystery, and this day, more surprisingly, there were no guards watching the gates.
"Damned guards," Aldrien cursed under his breath as he dismounted, patting Epona approvingly on the flank, "leaving the gate without lookout."
He shoved against the gate, but it would not give. And with a cry of frustration, Aldrien noted the huge locks along the center of the gates, where they came together, and whirled on his heel, pacing back to his horse. He tethered her gently to the tree near the bend he had just rounded, and turned to the wall, half dreading the climb that laid ahead of him.
Those vines were ancient, he knew. His mother had recounted many tales of her outside visitors climbing up the walls, sneaking past the guards and into her private courtyard, and at that time, he recalled every detail. Up the vines he climbed, cursing his bad luck all the way, but taking great care not to snag his royal blue tunic on the thorns, until finally he reached the top, twenty feet off of the ground. He pulled himself onto the plateau and rushed across to the gates, surveying from high the path that snaked northward to the castle. There were no guards in sight, not even guarding the main gates, and the prince could only guess that those were locked tight as well. But he jumped down anyway, and if the long fall caused him any pain he did not show it, for he continued to sprint around the path, up the hills outside of the castle, and through the outside gardens. The tiny grove outside of the main gates had not grown at all since he had been born, no new trees had grown, and through them, he could easily verify that no guards were at their posts that day.
On he ran, until he came to the main gates, locked tight, and thus he turned once again, making his way to the wall on his left, where more thorned vines grew. He climbed them with the same foul tempered attitude and jumped down onto the white stone pathway that led around the castle's moat, making his way around the back of the castle, figuring it to be the only way he would get inside.
He only could hope that he was small enough to fit through the hole that lead to the courtyard.
But to his relief, he was able to easily clear the short jump over the moat at that point, and through the small hole he crawled, emerging on the inside of the castle's main walls. He ran onward, through the gardens and around vine covered bends, not a single guard to be seen, until he reached the main courtyard, where his mother usually stayed.
It was at that point that the dread filled his heart the most.
How long had he been gone? Four weeks on his last mission, four weeks at the least. And in that span of two fortnights, the gardens had become unkept, dirty, overgrown with weeds and vines, as if no one had tended them for some time. His pace slowed then, and he looked up at the sun. Red it was, red it would remain for the remainder of the day, and judging by its position, that day had just begun. He strode cautiously over the vines, taking great care to avoid stepping on any of the few remaining flowers, until he reached the pedestal where his mother often sat when he was a child, holding him on her lap, telling him stories of his father, long since deceased, telling him of the many trials that they had endured, and ultimately of how her kingdom had come to be the way that it was.
But he knew well that there was no time for nostalgia, and he stared hard at the window before him, open as usual. The prince humbled himself for that slight moment, and squeezed himself into the window, falling gracelessly into the corridors between his quarters when he was home, and the rest of the guards' wing.
Aldrien brought himself to his feet and brushed the dirt from his cloak and tunic, and began off through the winding stone corridors of the castle, through the huge west wing, until he came to the main entryway of the castle, where he finally found the first life he'd seen since that morning at the gate.
Two guards stood, spears in hand, at the huge, oaken doors to the throne room, and apparently, they had been awaiting Aldrien's return. One of the two, the scrawnier, approached the Hylian with little more than a nod to acknowledge that he was in the presence of a higher power.
"Young Master Elf," he began, his customary greeting to the elven lord, "it is urgent. Lord Kimmendell has been awaiting your return with the palace messenger. Where, I pray, is he?"
"Messenger?" Aldrien inquired, voice stern, brow furrowed with a puzzled expression. "When was he sent?"
"A fortnight passed–we were worried that he would not make it to you in time, seeing as how you were in the southernmost parts of Kakariko. It is well known the great distances to be crossed from there to here..."
"I never saw your messenger. I came of my own accord, I have a ship leaving the port city at noon. What is the trouble?"
"Your mother..."
It was all that had to be said. Aldrien's bright blue eyes widened in uncharacteristic horror, and he shoved the guard away, storming through the great double doors, leaving barely enough time for the remaining guard to open them for him. But the prince cared nothing for ceremony at that point–he only wished to see his mother, and he passed through the heavily guarded outer hallway to the throne room with a mass of twelve guards at his heels, begging him to calm himself before he approached the human ruler of Hyrule.
Aldrien would hear none of it. The assassin had taken the cool-headed prince's place, and was bent on revenge for whatever had taken his mother. And in his rage, he approached the heavy double doors that led into the throne room, shoving them open with all of his strength, succeeding where two of the strongest guards would have failed, and barreled into the presence of his human king.
"What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded coldly, loudly, as he stepped right up to the golden, jeweled throne where Kimmendell, the human directly under Marik sat, tapping his fingernails impatiently on the arm of the great chair. "What demon has taken my mother from me?! What sort of..."
"Aldrien, my son, calm yourself," Kimmendell replied cooly, leaning forward to clasp his white gloved hands in his lap. "The Lady Zelda passed peacefully."
"You did it, didn't you, you filthy human! You took my mother's life! And without such a warning to me?! What makes you honestly trust that I will not come to kill you in your sleep for such a brash action against mine own blood?!"
"You have more tact than that. My personal assassin would not act against his master, his keeper, his king. Am I not correct in this observation?" the baritone replied, eyeing Aldrien's hands on the hilts of his twin weapons.
It took every ounce of restraint contained in the prince's fair frame to hold himself back. He knew well that the repercussions that the slaughter of a king, no matter how tyrannical, would be grave. He realized that it was no coincidence that Kimmendell had sent him away on a long winded mission, and for the time being, Aldrien would have to settle with speech.
"You will provide my mother with proper funeral services upon my return from this mission, and now you will provide me with the proper supplies for my departure, as well as a cleric to make my road back to the southern ports of Kakariko swift, since you have caused me such a painful inconvenience, will you not, Kimmendell?"
Aldrien eyed the well clothed, muscular king with a well restrained scorn, and Kimmendell knew well that any threat that passed the lips of Aldrien of the House of Royals was not idle. The king could only nod his head, his black locks falling over his robed shoulders.
"Where is my mother now?" the Hylian demanded.
Kimmendell shrugged and looked to the side, "She must by this time be wandering the valleys under the guidance of you damnable Hylians' goddesses. So much good they do you in the end."
Twin knives were snapped from their sheathes and were held at the king's unprotected throat, their wielder pressing hard enough for Kimmendell to realize the obvious danger he had put himself in. With a flick of Aldrien's well trained hands, he would meet his gruesome end by means of decapitation. But there was one idea left, the only concept that would hold the wild assassin in check.
"Treason," he whispered quietly, only loud enough for Aldrien to hear, "high treason is punishable by painful torture and death, and if that be the case, you will not be able to see to it that your mother receives the treatment in death that she deserves."
"Damn your words!" Aldrien spat, drawing thin lines of blood against the king's throat as he replaced the swords in their sheathes, storming from the room.
"Oh, and son!" Kimmendell laughed after him, "her body lies locked in the cellars, being tended to by the rats, and your supplies wait in the kitchens!"
"I am not your son!" the prince shouted in reply as he slammed the huge doors behind him, taking his leave from the throne room.
He damned himself, cursed himself to the deepest abysses imaginable for allowing his mother to be slaughtered and fed to the rats. But there was nothing that he could do, no way that he alone could go against the king and all of his underlings. Much less when the kingdom that was rightfully his was so close to ruin. He could only accept that his mother was dead, never to return, and that he would have to continue his mission for the good of his people, and for the safety and false security of his kingdom.
In the throne room, however, the meeting had not yet been adjourned. Beside Kimmendell sat his head advisor, a human by the name of Crienath. The two, though just finished with Aldrien, had already become engrossed in their next conversation.
"Milord Kimmendell," the advisor began, "I beg you allow me to share my plans for that one..."
"Do as you will," replied the king nonchalantly.
Crienath smiled a malicious smile and knelt before the king's throne, beginning his long explanation.
"Marik himself sent word to us from the Under World," he started, "he says that he wishes Aldrien to be killed along with his mother. That will leave only the humans to the throne, save for Marik himself, who can be resurrected with but a few minor enchantments."
"But that resurrection would be false," Kimmendell argued with a pause, "he would be only on this plane in spirit, not in physical form. To complete the revolution of this country we must have him here entirely."
"Yes, that is but a matter of time. Once we get the boy's blood, it will be far easier to physically manifest Marik on this plane and bring him back entirely. In the end Aldrien would die anyway. At least this way it is for our mutual benefit, yes, my lord?"
"Indeed. But Aldrien is such a valuable asset to our ranks–it would be a shame to rid ourselves of him at this point. Especially with the Hylians near extinction."
"You should have thought of that before locking his father away in that crystal before the revolution then, shouldn't you? That will surely have killed the man, and he was the last of the bloodline of the House of Royals, save of course for Aldrien himself."
"Aye, I should have thought of that," Kimmendell reasoned with himself, stroking a hand along the gentle curves of his clean shaven chin, "then Aldrien must die. Do as you will, though make certain to gather enough of his lifeblood to make the enchantment complete."
"Yes, My Lord."
"And Crienath..." Kimmendell began as his advisor turned to leave, and only after he turned did the lord continue, "send Aldrien on a mission–an absurd one. While he is out at sea we can have him search for the shards, the final piece to the resurrection of Marik."
"Yes, milord."
* * * * *
Link and Captain Troe had been sitting at the small square table in the captain's quarters for hours, speaking of events passed and those to come. Link had barely touched the generous meal that had been laid before him, still untrusting of the time's foods, but rather, watched as the polite human across from him ate slowly and cleanly.
"Do tell me what happened, now that we have agreed to your little proposal," the Hylian began quietly, picking up the hardened biscuit that sat on the edge of the plate. It was the only thing on the table that even remotely reminded him of home–wherever that place might have been.
"We found ye in the cells in Kakariko, as ye know. But before that, we had only heard rumors of ye. Aside from their Majesties Lord Aldrien and Lady Zelda there were no Hylians in this world–when we heard that there was another of yer kind we had to find ye before ye were executed. The most logical place to start the lookin' would have been Kakariko, of course, seein' as how the Other-lands execute Hylians on sight–or at least did when there were some of ye left. Aldrien is the only one of yer kind that can travel this land freely."
"Executed, you say," Link looked away with a sigh of relief after finally hearing the mention of Zelda, out the circular window at the side of the cabin. All that he could see was the wide ocean for miles around until the sea green met sky blue at the horizon. It was that exact ocean that was separating him from her at that very moment, and how he wished to cross it and be home again.
"A pity indeed. My men and yourn had an alliance fifteen years ago."
"And who, my I ask, is this Aldrien person?"
"Ah, son of Lady Zelda," the captain retorted with a smile, hearing Link's unexcited reference to the boy, "he is a fine warrior, I can assure you that much. It's rumored that he is an assassin in Kakariko, for the highest of the Moguls around and even for Lord Kimmendell at Hyrule Castle as well. Ah, but even if that be true he'd never let his mother know that, it would crush her."
"A strong boy indeed–I should like to meet him."
"Not a wise wantin' if ye ask me. But mayap you'll get what ye want."
The Hylian shook his head and urged the conversation along, "And what of me before you found me?"
"The rumors told that ye had washed ashore in what was the Gerudo Desert, now the main ports of Kakariko," the captain replied.
"The town has expanded much then."
"Aye. The main city of Hyrule, even more so than the castle town."
The captain looked up and grinned, shook his head, and leaned back, pushing his empty plate away from him. He folded his bony hands behind his head and fixed his emerald eyes on the elf, who by this time was feasting greedily on the food laid before him. Apparently the long stretch without food had finally taken its toll on him.
* * * * * Aldrien shook his head and leaned on the windowsill, bare hands gripping the stone, and stared out the window of his bedroom for a brief moment, gathering himself together. He had but a mere hour and a half before his ship was set to leave, and that morning had passed in an exhausting blur of emotions and information. But his men were waiting, at least they were if they had the nerve to stay, and down the hall, his caretaker and the castle's head cleric waited to take him to the docks.
"Aldrien?"
He looked over at the bed at the glowing patch of pink light that fluttered around. That fairy had been around the castle for as long as he could remember, and for some reason had never left him alone. This time was no different.
"What?" he retorted angrily, turning back to the window.
"Do you really wish for her death to go without punishment?"
Rage welled within him for the moment, but he did not let it show. He calmed himself and remained coolheaded, outwardly, and turned back around, leaning against the windowsill, then spoke, "I do not mean for that to be the case, but for now I must return to Kakariko. Lady Impa waits for me in her quarters and my men are there with a ship."
"A ship?"
"I have a mission before me... A new one, from Kimmendell."
"And that would be?"
"It would seem as though finding the pirates that ravaged Kakariko has been taken off of the fire, as they say. My new goal is to find the four shards of the Hylian crystal, though for what purpose I am yet unsure of..."
The young prince clasped his broach together, binding his Hylian cloak around his neck, and strode from the room, the fairy close on his heels. She buzzed in his long, pointed ears for a moment, before he gave in and scooped her to sit on his shoulder, where she always found her place.
Aldrien made his way through the winding stone hallways of the palace, taking no note of the perfectly polished and shining armors that hung and stood around the place, brushing past the countless floor-to-ceiling tapestries that adorned the walls in places. The most heed he gave to anything was to shield his eyes while passing through the brightly lit corridors leading to the royal's wing, where Impa stayed, and he, by rights, should have been housed.
Those corridors had always been his favorite place to go as a child, before he was thrown from his world of innocence into the streets of Kakariko under the command of Kimmendell. He would sit for hours admiring the stained glass windows, listening to his mother tell the stories contained in them.
But he had not heard one of those stories in many years, fifteen if he remembered correctly. He had barely been home in that time, long enough to share a dinner with his mother and Impa, and to receive his next mission from Kimmendell. Then he would be off again, spending most of his life living in the southernmost parts of Kakariko, sometimes traveling for months over the seas to live in the Other-Lands and establish a name for himself. As one of the only Hylians left, it was up to him to make sure that they were well respected, no matter the cost.
Aldrien pushed the door to Impa's quarters open and knocked on the outside wall, stepping inside. She stood in all of her elder glory in the corner of the room, dressed in a traditional dress from before the revolution, a cloak wrapped tightly around her sturdy shoulders to keep the chill of the castle away. When she turned, her cloak spun around her torso, and she smiled warmly, inviting the young prince inside. He stepped up to her and bowed respectfully, always happy to see her still alive.
"Master Aldrien, I see you've returned to us again," she began, her voice as young sounding as it always had been, "however in these sad times I'm afraid your welcome was not as grand as usual."
"A mere sentiment, m'lady Impa."
"If I had known of the tragedy I would have contacted you sooner."
"But you did not, and for that you cannot harbor blame," he gave another bow, lower this time, and as he came up, took her wrinkled hand in his and kissed it gently, respectfully, as if he had done wrong to her. "I thank you for your assistance in my departure."
"It is my pleasure, child. However, there are a few things I need to inform you of ere you leave."
Aldrien leaned against the wall and watched the elderly woman turn away from him and pass to the other side of the room before she finally began to speak in a hushed tone.
"Aldrien, I am afraid that you are in grave danger."
The assassin could have laughed, had he less respect for the woman. But he kept his tongue still and remained expressionless, nodding for the woman to continue. "Go on, Impa."
"Marik wishes you dead. In an earlier scrying, performed a fortnight passed, I overheard Marik and Lord Advisor Crienath conversing transdimensionally."
"What did they say?" Aldrien returned, his demeanor changing to concern. It was a rarity that Impa told of her scryings, as they were oft performed in complete secrecy, and were meant to remain so, and only when the matter was of great import did she speak of them to anyone.
"They spoke of your death.. I cannot be certain exactly how, or when, but I am positive that there will be an attack aimed against you at some point in your upcoming journey. I pray you take great care to avoid contact with others at all costs. If you must do so, remain on your ship, and only make contact with your home guild houses, and only when absolutely necessary."
Aldrien looked away. Impa had been the only outsider to know of his position as assassin in much of the world, and though she did not approve, she knew it was his way of protecting Lady Zelda, by keeping Kimmendell and Marik's all seeing eyes on him, rather than her.
But Impa kept talking.
"Make certain you keep a low profile."
"As if anything else could be expected?"
Impa nodded her accord and knelt down next to a small wooden cupboard, and opened the heavily ornamented door. She pulled from it a thickly bound book of dark green leather, and stood back up. Clutching the book to her chest, she walked to Aldrien and handed it over gently to him, nodding as she did.
"This was your father's."
Aldrien stared at the book for a long while, cerulean eyes filled with curiosity. He almost dreaded opening the thing, after all that he had heard about his father.
"What is it?"
"His diary."
Aldrien's jaw dropped as he stared, taking in the size of it. It had to be at least three inches thick, and as he flipped through the pages to the back, the print was tiny, and stretched from cover to cover, every inch of every page with some kind of marking or symbol. He looked up at Impa once again, who simply stood with her arms crossed across her chest, grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear.
"His diary," the assassin repeated.
"I want you to read it," she replied, nodding to him. "I figured that it might help you along if you knew what you were getting into," the nurse continued, readying herself to create the portal. "It is rumored that the shards of the jewel were thrown into four of the old sages' temples. Your mother told you of those, I am sure."
"Briefly," Aldrien replied quietly, scanning the first page of the great book, "in what she called a false future. Forest, Fire, Water, Shadow, Spirit, and Light, though I do not quite recall the telling of a temple of light."
"That temple was never discovered, but you will find that your father visited and explored each of the other temples thoroughly. Read and learn, Aldrien, my son. I implore you to find the four shards, just as Lord Kimmendell bade you, but once found you must keep them, bind the jewel, and bring it back to me to be destroyed," she clasped her hands to her chest and turned to face the assassin. "You must do this, banish Marik to the dark realms, and decapitate the human forces. Once Marik is gone, Kimmendell will have no where to turn to, nowhere to go, and then you can avenge the deaths of your dear parents, who died because of Marik and his dark lords!"
Aldrien was completely silenced, genuinely startled by Impa's request. She had never before uttered such blasphemous remarks concerning Marik, who oft times was considered by the people of Hyrule to be no more than a spiritual deity, than she just had. Had anyone overheard her speech, she would be dead before Aldrien ever returned from his lengthy mission, and with all of the eyes about the castle, that fate was more than a possibility. Much more, and Aldrien knew.
It was all that the assassin could do to accept her request with a silent nod, and watch as she conjured the dimensional portal to Kakariko.
* * * * *
The Kriashase made port in the Other-Land city of Fort Root, a place much larger than Kakariko, surrounded on all sides by a huge stone wall, an impenetrable fortress that was guarded on all sides by heavily armored, and heavily armed human soldiers. The crew had disembarked, and had been staying in one of the more dingy inns of the city, but no one minded.
On one unremarkable night, several of the crewmen had ventured away from the inn and down to the slums of the city, where one of the most popular pubs sat in the middle of the plaza. Link and Troe had accompanied them, if only to assure that they stayed far from harm, and now sat on the tall stools at the bar table talking quietly amongst themselves.
"You have seen the looks that they give you here, have you not?"
Link nodded and looked down, examining the drink in his hands. The people of Fort Root had been eyeing him suspiciously, and maybe it was because he wore his hood low over his face to hide his elven features, knowing well that if they saw him, he would not live long enough to see the sea again.
"It is because I am an elf. A petty reason for such a strong hatred."
"But to them it is justified," Troe replied, taking a generous sip of the thick mead, slamming the mug back down on the wooden table.
"Justified?" Link growled in reply, his anger mounting slowly but surely. "How can you honestly call such a stupid thing justified?"
Troe looked around, seeing the expressions plastered on the surrounding mens' faces. At every table there were at least three well built humans that towered more than a foot above Link, staring angrily at him, hands clenching their mugs until their knuckles turned white for lack of blood. He then turned his expression to Link. The Hylian stared down, blue eyes locked in an icy gaze on his hands. His anger was apparent at that point, the captain had never seen him quite so emotional before, and wasn't sure if it was his place to say something or not.
"Link, me boy. Quiet yerself," he began quietly, leaning over to the elf next to him. "I'll tell ye the reason they hate yer kind, I will."
Link looked up, his face once again taking on the stoic expression it usually held. With a sigh, he resigned himself to listening to the captain, and took another sip of his water.
"It be Aldrien's fault, but may whatever deity is there bless him."
"There are deities there, Troe'kanoi. There are. And they have gifted the boy with unimaginable skills."
"Bless them, then, as well," the elderly human continued, tapping his fingernails against his cup, "but Aldrien. Ah, the boy. He scares them, he does. A Hylian noble with that much power these days be intimidating enough, aye, but to be head assassin of the highest power in all of Hyrule, that be a different story altogether."
"An interesting story, that it is," the Hylian agreed with a nod. He looked back over at Troe and closed his eyes, heaving a deep sigh, and continued, "It makes me wonder if even I could attain such a reputation here."
"I have heard," Troe continued with a hushed tone, clearing his throat to abruptly switch subjects, "that Aldrien himself is pursuing us, even over the vast oceans. And as a side mission, Kimmendell has sent him after the same shards as us."
Link looked up with and uncharacteristic start, eyes wide, and shook his head. He returned his gaze to the table and bit his lower lip, realizing the danger that his presence had put his human companions in. "How long now, do we have? How far behind us are they, I mean?"
"Not far enough for comfort, me boy. He has apparently hired a speedy merchant vessel, much smaller and as fast as ours. With the waters as calm as they've been lately, he'll be here within two days. If we are not off of the mainland by that time, we will surely bring havoc to this town."
"But where will we go? The temples are somewhere near the main island of Hyrule, are they not?" Link questioned.
"No."
Link looked up again and quirked a confused eyebrow, eyes full of curiosity. "Then where?"
"In the shifting of this world, after Marik's henchmen gained control, the land split and changed. The outermost portions of the mainland that you once occupied have broken away and are now floating as solitary islands somewhere out there. Some could even be on the particularly ugly hunk of rock on which we now sit. I do not know where they are. We will have to search."
"Oh."
Troe looked over at his Hylian friend and offered a warm smile. It was all he could do to keep from laughing at the horribly distraught expression that graced his fine, elven features. The captain then stood and clapped Link on the shoulder, nodding to him.
"I'll be at the hotel if ye need me, boy. Ye needn't be afraid of these streets. Ye look enough like Aldrien to keep the thieves off of ye!"
And with that, the human exited the bar, leaving Link alone with his thoughts.