Wow, I got this horrendous cold, and just in time for prime Mars viewing! But seriously, I hope I don't give somebody a cyber cold, I'm sneezing and blowing my nose all over the place…sorry guys. Also, it's the season of nosebleeds! Blood, blood everywhere…yuckers.

-Shawshank (E-mail me, I'm sick)

Chapter 26 – The Mists of Time

"Concentrate, now! Remember, your body is your best weapon, second only to your mind."

"I KNOW! SHUT UP AND LET ME THINK!"

"Now, now, no need to get impatient."

Tyr sighed, and let the magic drain from her. The ancient woman clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Now, why'd you do that? You were getting along fine."

It was about three months after Tyr had first called up the powerful magic inside her and burned the forests, and she was slowly learning how to control it. Nayru fed her frustration and anger by refusing to answer any of her questions, reassuring her that all would be revealed in time. Tyr turned to the woman, the magic flooding her just beneath the surface.

"Why don't we make a deal, huh? I'll try to control my magic if you answer my questions."

Nayru shook her head, smiling. "No thank you. After all, this training is only benefiting you, not I. I would lose nothing if you were to give up."

Tyr gritted her teeth, speaking through them. "Then when will you answer my questions, huh? WHEN!?"

"I told you, when the time is right."

"I mean, when will the time be right?"

"When you learn to control yourself, and control your magic. Then you will know everything you wish to know."

Tyr fought the impulse to scream out loud, tackle the woman and rip out her silver hair, and instead closed her eyes and clenched her fists. The sweet concentration took over her mind, and her magic seeped out onto her skin, ready to be called upon. Nayru saw that she was ready, and pointed to a willow tree. Tyr saw the images in her mind, and bent the magic to her will, forcing it to burn the tree in unnatural shapes. When she recalled her magic, Nayru walked over to the tree, Tyr following. She didn't get tired as easily any longer, thanks to the months of practice; now she was able to simply soak her magic back up, and recall it for use whenever the need arose. Nayru nodded in satisfaction, and gingerly touched the already healing bark of the tree. Patches of bark were burned away, carving into it the shapes Nayru had showed her.

"Yes, Tyr, good work! This is your name. Do you see?"

Tyr peered at the bark, and indeed recognized the three letters that made up her name. "Yes, I see it now. I can read, but I can't write…how does that work?"

Nayru smiled at her. "You can't hold a paintbrush or piece of lead or charcoal, and you don't know how to make the letters. That is all."

Tyr nodded, and asked yet again. "Now will you answer my questions? Is my training finished?"

Nayru shook her head, but she replied, "Soon, child. Very soon, you will be prepared."

Tyr stood for a moment, resting, then returned to the centre of the clearing. She called back to the old woman, "Teach me."

***

Kawhin was nothing short of amazed when he saw the underground hall that the Maglar took their meals in. All thoughts of the strangeness of the people fled his mind, and he circled around, gazing at the murals covering the flat sections of wall and at the beautifully carved arches holding up the ceiling, which was also painted with pictures. However, he couldn't quite make out what the pictures were of – the paint was old and chipped, fading and hard to distinguish from one colour to the next. He was brought back down to earth when Zelda tugged none-too-gently on his arm, and he followed her, still gazing around the beautiful room. Rhianne picked her way over to a smallish door on the opposite end of the hall from where they had entered, and pulled it open, shouting through the clouds of mist that floated out and wreathed her face.

"Gregory! I need two packs full of provisions, as soon as you can put them together."

The voice of the rabbit – eared man floated out, slightly muffled by the steam.

"But, Rhianne, my soup…"

"It won't take long. Your soup will not burn. Hurry!"

She slammed the door shut despite his protests, and walked back to the other two, gazing down at them distantly.

"Well, I suppose you'll have some questions. Feel free to ask, and I'll answer whatever I can."

Zelda was the first to speak. "Who *are* you?"

Rhianne sighed, but began to answer. "That is a difficult question, but I will relay to you all the knowledge I have gathered. We are the Maglar, or the cursed, or the half-humans…we have many names. We were once the leaders of an army that rebelled against evil forces, but they eventually won, and they trapped us in this forest for eternity."

Kawhin nodded, understanding.

I see. But what's to stop you from leaving the forest?

Rhianne stared at him piercingly, but answered slowly. "We will die. Our aging processes have been slowed down by a spell placed on this forest by the victors of the war. If we leave, our bodies will age far too quickly in too short of a time, and we will die. But now, if I may, I would ask a question of you." Zelda nodded, and Rhianne pointed to Kawhin. "Why is that one's tongue silent, and yet his voice echoes in my mind?"

Kawhin answered her. I am a Sheikah. We lost the ability to speak long ago, but we found that, if we concentrated hard enough, we could share our thoughts with one another. Our race had bloody beginnings – we were obsessed with war and fighting. We found that if we spoke to each other through our thoughts, we could fight more efficiently and with better teamwork. Then, when we could find no one else to fight, we built ourselves a colony. There are very few of us left. We almost drove ourselves to extinction. So, now, we must exist in the shadows, and so people have come to call us Shadow Folk or Shadow Riders. However, most believe we do not exist any longer, that we were all killed off. This is not true, obviously.

Rhianne nodded her majestic head. "I remember. I had heard talk of the Shadow Riders, they who loved the horses, and whose horses loved them, so much that they would bear them anywhere, even to the very edges of the world. Is this true?"

Yes. Horses are intelligent, and we found we could speak to them through our minds when we were first learning to do so. Have you heard of the talking animals?

"The Tamra? Yes, I know them. I was alive when the last of them fled."

The horses were all Tamra once, but they lost their voices when magic left this world. Now they are trapped in their minds, but they love us for helping to free them. So all horses are indebted to the Sheikah, and love them, and will carry them anywhere.

Zelda felt free to ignore them, and wandered around the hall, staring at the paintings. When there was a lapse in their talk, she asked a question of her own.

"What are these paintings of? Do you know, Rhianne?"

The half – human shook her head. "No. These paintings were dull and faded even before we Maglar came to this place. None of us, not even I, have been able to decipher their meanings, or even what they depict."

Zelda nodded, and continued to stare at the walls and ceiling when another long silence ensued. A thought came to Kawhin.

What do you mean, before you came here? Wasn't this place built for you?

Rhianne laughed, a low sound that reminded Kawhin of distant thunder.

"No, of course not! This building is beyond the skill of the craftsmen of our time to construct. No, the Hall of Mirrors, the stairwell, the caverns, this room we use for eating…they have been here since before living memory."

Zelda spoke slowly, cautiously, suspicion dawning on her. "But, this Hall of Mirrors…what - "

She would never finish her question, as Gregory came bursting in at that moment. He looked harried, and he shoved two hefty sacks into their stomachs with a quick, "You're welcome," before hurrying back to his soup, which smelled like it was beginning to burn. Rhianne nodded to Zelda and Kawhin, and they followed her back up the stairs, explaining to them on the way.

"Now, no more questions. The less you know about this place, the better. I will take you to Eval before I guide you back to our borders. Please, come this way."

They followed her through the door on the far left, from the viewpoint of the Hall of Mirrors, and they walked through a maze of hallways, until they came to yet another door. Rhianne opened this slowly, and Zelda saw a dark library with more books than she could hope to read in a lifetime. She shuddered, remembering what had happened last time she had been in a library, but stepped through the doorway anyway, forcing the memories of Link away. Because, she reasoned to herself, that was all they were – just memories.

They found Eval poring over a collection of ancient, yellowed scrolls, lit by a soft candle. Zelda breathed lightly when she saw his silhouette, and nudged Kawhin, who nudged her in return. They had both seen the horn sticking out of his forehead, ivory – coloured and gleaming in the pale light; and Zelda saw also that he had a thick mane of hair running about halfway down his spine. She shivered, but the man smiled at her, and held up a finger, asking them to wait for a moment. She peered at him more closely. Was it just a trick of the light, or was his skin almost as dark as the room around them?

But no, when he turned to them after a few moments' delay, she saw that his skin was indeed dark, so dark that it was like a strange, sweet food she had once tried, called chocolate. He smiled, and led them outside, where the light was better. He saw Zelda's amazement and chuckled softly.

"Do not worry, little one. When I was born, a long time ago, all of the people looked like me, with the same strange skin. Then I got lost in these Woods." He smiled sadly. "I've never been able to find a way back, not that I really mind. I can barely remember them, my people."

Eval began walking, and they followed, listening to his slow, confident words.

"But I suppose you haven't come here for a history lesson, have you? Well, you're about to get one, whether you'd like it or not. You must know what you are meant for, though I am sorry that I must be the one to tell you."

Zelda tugged hesitantly on his sleeve.

"But, Eval…what do you mean, you're sorry? And what we're *meant* for? What do you mean by that?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder, his dark eyes meeting hers with a smile hidden in them.

"Your destiny, young woman, is not the most pleasant. All of you are meant to suffer for many long years before you welcome the peacefulness of death. And even then, even after death..."

He sighed and shook his head.

"I must apologise. The roll that I must play is an impartial one, and I find myself wanting to shield you from what you must endure. But remember that I cannot tell you everything, for even I am not clear on what your futures must hold. Unicorns are wise, but their eyes cannot pierce the Mists of Time."

Zelda found herself becoming frustrated again. "So, what *can* you tell us? Are you going to be as mysterious as all the rest of them?"

Eval smiled to himself. "I cannot tell you nearly as much as I would like to, even though I will tell you all I know. I know how frustrating it must be, but we all have no choice. Our roles have been set out for us, our lines memorised...now we must act the fools and make the Goddesses, our audience, laugh."

Navi piped up, zooming out into the open.

"So tell us already, huh?"

Eval smiled and chuckled, though Zelda glared at Navi angrily. The fairy shrugged nonchalantly and sat on top of Zelda's head, and Eval began relating his tale.

"Long, long ago, a very wise man lived in this land. He was a man like no other. They say that his head was clearer than the night sky, that his eyes could see the truth.  They say that he said only what he meant to, and what he said was not veiled in lies or deceit - they say he was a man of his word. But no one had any idea what he looked like - they only read his poems, his stories; a package of them would show up on the doorstep of the mayor of every village about once every month or so. But, once, when his poems and stories did not come for over three months, the people in the villages began to worry.

'They set out to find this man, though they did not know where to look. They searched high and low, on the tops of the mountains and below their roots, but they did not find any sign of him. Then, one of the people had a dream, a dream in which an angel came to him and told him where to find this man. He went into the village graveyard, where all the peoples of ages past were buried, and he took a ladder with him. He climbed up onto a ledge in the back of the graveyard, and there he found a cavern, which he entered. He was alone.

'Perhaps this was a mistake, but that no longer matters. This man found an ancient shrine in this cavern; there was a small pedestal facing an ancient Eye, not unlike the one my young Sheikah friend has painted on his tunic, and this was surrounded by torches, all of which had burned out long, long ago. This man kneeled on the pedestal and asked the Eye to show the one the angel had spoken of to him. Even as he finished speaking and opened his eyes, the angel from his dream stepped forward and spoke to him.

'The angel told him that the man had died long, long ago, and that his stories and poems had been delivered to the people by the angel's hand. The angel said that there were no poems or stories left, that they had died along with this mysterious man. But the angel did give one thing to the dreamer."

"What did the angel say?" Zelda was deeply engrossed in the story, even though speaking of angels reminded her of Link, and that reminded her of the hole in her own heart.

"The angel told the dreamer the name of this man."

Eval looked around at them with fire in his eyes.

"The man's name was Vere'forgad'urian, and the last poem he had written in his short life told of three beings chosen to endure pain beyond imagining so that the rest of the world could exist in peace. He called this one last poem the Prophecies, and he had kept it hidden deep within the temple behind the Eye for many years. The angel had found it, and now felt that it was time for the world to know of these Prophecies, so the people could prepare for the events it spoke of."

Zelda was still confused, but Kawhin's forehead was creased with understanding. So *this* was the story of Vere'forgad'urian, whose works his people had studied for so long. This was how the stories and poems had come to them, and this was how they came to know of the Prophecies. Though his people had moved away from the ancient Sheikah city of Kakariko in many years past, they had kept the stories, and devoted themselves to deciphering the wisdom within them. He nodded to himself in satisfaction. Zelda narrowed her eyes.

"But Eval, what does this have to do with us?"

He smiled sadly at her.

"Zelda, you are one of the three Chosen Ones spoken of in the Prophecies. The second is Tyr, and the third…I have not met. And from the sorrow in your eyes, I believe I never will. But you must remember the words of the Prophecies, though I do not wish to give you false hope."

Zelda's voice was quiet and subdued, but dangerous. "What are you talking about?"

"Zelda. Do you not remember? The second line of the Prophecies, when it speaks of the Hero. 'Lost, but never found the same.'"

She gazed at him, and the same deadness crept back into her soul.

"He isn't lost, he's dead. And he's never coming back. Can't you see that?"

Eval shook his head. "It may appear hopeless, but not all things are lost with death. Some things endure."

"Not life. Life doesn't endure."

"No…but the body does, for a short time, at least."

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.

"Do not ask any more of me. I would have to refuse to answer, and it pains me to do such a thing. Please, keep your silence."

She closed her mouth and sighed, gazing at the floor. Eval turned to Rhianne.

"Rhianne, take them back to the edge of the forest, if you would. They must be going. They have much to do, and little time. They need not waste it with me."

Zelda stuttered. "But…but…we have so much more to ask! Right, Kawhin?"

He shook his head. No, Zelda. Eval is right. We must leave, now, before matters are worsened and we lose what precious little time is given to us.

Eval gazed solemnly at Kawhin. "You are wise, Sheikah. Zelda, please, take this last piece of advice with you. If you never lose faith – if you never stop looking, and never stop trying, you can find what you're looking for."

She spoke softly, almost in a whisper, not meeting his eyes.

"What am I looking for, Eval?"

He clapped a large hand on her shoulder.

"The same thing as the rest of us, Zelda – something worth fighting for. Now, off with both of you, and good luck, if you believe in such things."

Zelda made a small bow, and followed Kawhin with Navi sitting on top of her head, her heavy gaze never lifting from the ground. Eval gazed after them, and spoke quietly to himself.

"There goes our destiny…I wonder how this will turn out in the end."

He slowly followed them at a distance, but stopped in the main hall, feeling Ayran's presence behind his back. The young man was still sitting on the edge of the fountain, and every few minutes he would splash some water from a deep bowl in his lap onto his chest, soothing the gashes there. But they both backed away from the fountain when it started bubbling, obeying their sixth senses. Ayran dashed over to Eval, and shouted over the gathering noise, "What is it? What's happening?"

Eval shouted back, "The fountain! The water must be returning! But, I'm not sure…"

They could do nothing but stare in shocked silence as the fountain flooded, battering at their feet with rushing water. A pillar of fire erupted from beneath the fountain, changing the rushing water into steam, but flickering harmlessly around them. They could do nothing but stare as a white – hot mass shot out into the air and floated in place, before the flames faded and the resulting figure fell lifelessly to the ground.

***

"So I was dead, huh? Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, General, ah, sir. I'm certain of it, sir."

"Just Urian is fine, Inriar."

"Of course, Urian."

The creature gazed at her with alien eyes. "So I was dead…what were you, anyway?"

The she-wolf blinked, cocking her head to one side and sniffing the air.

"I don't understand, Urian."

It ran its fingers through its blonde hair, sighing in frustration.

"What were you, you know…before you were *this*. Were you always a Borun?"

She chuckled, baring sharp teeth that looked like they had been filed down into points.

"Oh, no, Urian. Once I was a woman, just as once you were a man. An ordinary one, that is."

"I see. Where did you live? What was it like there?"

"Oh, I lived in a beautiful valley, far to the south…or was it the west? I'm not sure."

"I don't care."

"Well, anyway, I lived there until I was about twenty or so. Then I figured that life was short, why not live? So I went wandering, and I've never once looked back. Until now, anyway."

Urian appeared confused.

"Why is that?"

Her dark animal eyes were cloudy with memory, and she frowned slightly.

"Well, once, when I was about ten years old, the people I lived with exiled one of us. She left for a while and came back a different person, and it was then that they refused to accept her. They said she had never belonged from the start, but I could see through their treachery. Ever since then, I began learning the skills I needed to survive. How to fight, how to find food, how to build fires…of course, what with me being female, my activities were opposed by my people. They exiled me, too, about ten years after they exiled that other girl. I never did find her, not in all of my travels. But I *did* find Yehrutte."

Urian's voice was quiet as it questioned her.

"What did you do then?"

Angry fire burned in her eyes. "He lied to me. He promised me that, if I joined his army, I would be able to see the world, and perhaps even find that girl. I shouldn't have listened to him, my heart told me to keep moving. But I did listen; I was swayed by his speech of freedom, though his talk of more money than I could dream of almost dissuaded me. My people value items over rupees. So I allowed him to cast this spell upon me, and I drank the wolf's blood he poured out for me, and now I have been reduced to this."

"I see. But why do you look back now?"

Her voice was low and quiet, but filled with rage. It leaned in slightly closer to clearly make out her words.

"Look around you, Urian. You see what we are? What we have become? We were once proud, stupid, greedy people; now we are dumb, fearsome, evil wastes of life, scrabbling in the dirt for our fair share. I will not live to see the world. I am dying as we speak."

It narrowed its eyes, confused.

"But, Inriar…we are all dying as we speak. That is the way of things."

She shook her head and growled under her breath, frustrated with his mindless logic.

"No, you do not understand. I am dying at an accelerated rate, because of this curse. But you…I'm not sure about you."

"How so?"

"Urian, it's just a hunch I've been keeping, but…I think that you can't be hurt. Physically, anyway. Sword blades glance off of your skin, if they even get a chance to touch you. Your face remains as young as ever, and only your eyes change. They grow more burdened every day, I can see it, even if you cannot."

Urian held its hand to its own face, tracing the edges of its own eye sockets in wonder.

"I think you will not die for a very long time to come, if ever. After all, you are already dead! Or, at least, you were. But on the inside, you're so easily tormented that it is surprising. I could hardly believe that one such as you could be hurt so easily by words or by actions, or by lack of both."

It nodded slowly in agreement.

"Yes, that is odd. But somewhere, deep inside my chest, there is a constant pain. I do not know how it started, but it will not go away, no matter how hard I try to make it."

Her eyes narrowed into slits, and she sniffed at the creature before her.

"Hmm. Perhaps who you once were has not completely left your body."

It rolled its eyes at her. "Now that's stupid. I was dead! Nothing is left but this body."

She nodded, baring her teeth in an odd grin.

"Yes, your body was dead, but it is common knowledge that the soul endures all. Yes, even death."

It scratched uncomfortably at the tattoos on the backs of its hands.

"Soul? What is a soul? Do I have one?"

She licked her lips nervously, and shook the fur out of her eyes.

"I'm not sure, Urian. I haven't been sure of anything for a long time."

They sat in silence for a while, silently contemplating matters. Inriar dared to speak again.

"General Urian, if I may ask…what are your plans for us?"

It tossed the blonde strands of hair out of its eyes before replying.

"We're going to go talk to this Master person. If I find that he is worthy, we will follow the Master. If he isn't…I'll kill the Master and take his forces for myself."

Inriar looked a little shocked, but she still questioned him, carefully shielding her voice.

"And what would you do then, General? After you took his forces, I mean."

It shook its head. "I don't know yet. But I will find a purpose – I promise you that. I will find a purpose if it is the last thing I do."

She nodded, and, seeing that he had fallen back into sullen silence, left him to join some other Borun around a neighbouring fire. Urian watched as all of the fires burned down, and waited until they had all fallen asleep, even the posted sentries. Then it took off into the sky, swooping and climbing through the chill air, silhouetted by seven moons. In that moment, it was reduced to a mere moonshadow, but all of the people who could not sleep and instead watched the moons and stars were more afraid of that fleeting shadow than anything else they had seen in their short lives. It was on that night that people began to be afraid; for they had not yet seen the forces gathering in the west, but they had all felt, from the smallest infant to the oldest men and women, a feeling of unease. All of them felt the deepening shadow, but few had seen it firsthand, and of those few, only five had lived to tell the tale.

On that night, an end of the world truly began.

***

Exactly one hundred days after Tyr had first arrived in the strange place underneath the fountain, the Goddess Nayru shook her awake.

"Tyr, child. You cannot stay for much longer. Please, get up."

Tyr sat up, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

"What? What is it, Nayru?"

The Goddess was in the form of a beautiful young woman with flowing blue hair, but her face was worried and her eyes troubled.

"Young one, you must leave today. Get up; make yourself presentable. I have little enough time to show you the way out. Hurry!"

Tyr got up, taking her time in brushing the leaves out of her shoulder length hair.

"What are you talking about, Nayru? How could we not have enough time?"

"Hurry, child, hurry! If you do not leave before sunset on this, the hundredth day, you will never be able to leave! Quickly, follow me!"

At that, Tyr was mobilized into action. She hurriedly straightened her clothing, thankful she had washed her dress last night in the small, burbling stream running deep through the dark forest. Tyr followed the goddess, running up the hill at top speed and coming to a stop next to the strange playing board painted on an old stump. She stared as Nayru muttered to herself, making adjustments to the pieces and stopping every now and then to stare at her palms. Tyr gazed over her shoulder and gasped. There were pictures on her open palms; pictures of people, those she knew and those she didn't; pictures of her tribe, and the hated faces belonging to it; once, she even saw flashes of Navi, Zelda and Kawhin, along with a strange winged creature she didn't recognize. But it looked almost like a huge eagle…

Suddenly, Nayru whirled towards Tyr, and beckoned her closer. Tyr shuffled forwards, and Nayru pointed to the figurine on the ground.

"That is you, Tyr. As soon as I place your figurine back on the world, you should go back."

"How?"

"I don't know. I've never been visited by any other living being before."

Nayru reached for Tyr's figurine, but the young warrior stopped her hand.

"Wait, Nayru. When I first came here, you said you would answer all my questions. Please, keep your word."

Nayru sighed and closed her eyes. "Fine. But not for long. Ask quickly."

Tyr looked around her, at the mountains and never – ending forest, thinking. "When I came, you said that *we* had arrived, and when I told you I was alone, you laughed. What did you mean by that?"

Nayru reached towards her, and touched the tear pendant hanging around her neck, which had survived the fire. "I meant this. You see, when your mother told you that this stone contains the spirits of your ancestors, she was lying to you. This stone contains an ancestor of yours, and your mother put a curse on the stone to change the person held within. Your ancestor is insane in his own right, and when you turn twenty, he will escape from the stone and be intent on killing anyone he sees. You can change that, you know – if you find a way to release him before your twentieth year, he will not be driven to destroy."

Tyr sat down, feeling tears well up behind her eyes. Her mother had lied to her from her birth, even before she had become a monster. Could she really hate her that much? She didn't want to believe it, but she knew Nayru spoke only the truth. She choked out, "What is his name? How is he related to me?"

Nayru sighed. "I wish you would not ask these questions, Tyr." When Tyr did not take the question back, she spoke again. "His name is Reyn. And he…he is your father."

Tyr leapt up. "What? My mother said my father was *dead*! You're lying!"

Nayru held out a calming hand. "Tyr, do you really believe your mother over me? Just wait…listen to me for a while longer."

The young woman sat down, letting her mutilated face fall into her mismatched hands. She sobbed quietly and listened to the truth.

"Your mother was never mated to your father. They believed themselves to be in love, and…well, you were the result. But your mother blamed and hated your father for 'ruining her life.' She refused to see that it had been her fault as well, and that your birth was a blessing, not a burden. She cursed your father, trapping him in this stone; then she gave the stone to you, saying it held the wisdom of your ancestors. Have you noticed yet that you cannot take it off? You could try and cut it, but it would bend your blade. You can try and slip it over your head, but the lace will shrink in your fingers. You will wear it until you die. She used this stone to exact her revenge upon both you and your father."

Tyr sobbed quietly, sniffling and wiping her eyes. Nayru sighed again, her immortal heart heavy. "I'm sorry, Tyr, but you asked. This is the truth."

The young woman shook the tears out of her eyes and mumbled, "I know." She stood up again, wavering in place, but still standing. "Thank you, Nayru."

The goddess nodded. "Do you have any more questions? We are running out of time."

"No. I don't want to know any more. Send me back."

Nayru nodded, and slowly reached down, picking up the figurine shaped like Tyr. The woman in question felt a rushing sensation course through her body, and the unpleasant feeling grew as Nayru's hand came nearer and nearer to the playing board. Tyr held up her hand to her face, staring as light erupted from her, spilling out from under her skin. She was wreathed in fire, and she felt her own energy burning up, her feet lifting off of the ground. Nayru shouted out some incomprehensible words, and finally placed the figure on the board, exactly in the spot it had been before it had been knocked off, in the middle of the small clearing deep in the Forest of the Lost.

Tyr floated steadily higher, rising slowly at first, then picking up speed as the magic strengthened. She screamed aloud and shot off like a cannon, rising into the sky, higher than she could ever have imagined. She saw a slight distortion in the great blue mass, and she aimed for it, shouldering her way through. She came out into a boiling mass of magma, and she shot ever higher, burning her way back up through the earth, through layers of rock and oil and fire, until she finally reached the earth. She then found the tunnel she had fallen down from, and she blasted back up it, back up into the shadows. And as she went, she felt that everything was happening slowly, so slowly it felt as though she would rip apart with impatience.

She shot up back through the shadows, through the darkness; but this time, she saw a great wave of veined blue colour, and as she passed through it, the world around her seemed to speed up again, and she knew that she was finally out. Even as she thought of this, she burst into the same cube – shaped room, which was once more filled with water. She burst up through the crack above her head and into the air, and then she felt the fire leave her. Just before she fell asleep, she saw two faces that she had almost believed she would never see again.

She laughed softly before being blanketed by darkness, and Ayran rushed to her side, splashing through the evaporating water.

Two large, round, yellow eyes watched them from the darkness of the doorway for a moment, then disappeared and did not return.

***

"I am afraid that this is as far as I can take you, Chosen Ones. I wish you luck, though my kind do not generally believe in such things."

Zelda and Kawhin thanked Rhianne, and she nodded and turned back towards her home. But before she left, she stopped and looked at them over her shoulder.

"Zelda, there is something you should know. We centaur cannot see the future; that gift is reserved for a rare handful of Shadow Riders. But we do listen to the leaves on the trees and the chattering of the forest animals, and we are learned creatures. Remember this – no matter what happens, no matter who you meet and what you say, there is always hope. Although things and people change over time, hope will always endure. Never give up hope."

She smiled a bit, and tears came to her eyes. "Rhianne, you almost sound like Link. He always said that everybody has a choice. But…I'm not sure if I can believe that any more."

Rhianne nodded at Zelda. "Believe what you wish, but just remember that hope lives in all things."

With that, the centaur turned and left, galloping through the darkness and back to the sanctuary in which dwelled the only people who would accept her these days. Zelda smiled half – heartedly at Kawhin.

"Well, now what, young Shadow Rider?"

She said this jokingly, and Kawhin joked back.

I'm not sure, Princess. You're the leader here.

Navi threw in her rupee's worth. "Yeah, Zelda. Get going and lead already!"

Zelda shook her head, but walked towards the weak specks of light anyway, holding Kawhin's hand so they wouldn't lose each other.

"All right, then. Let's get going. We should go to the nearest town, ask if anyone knows a descendant of the dreamer. Maybe we can even sleep on a *bed* tonight!"

That'd be nice. I can hardly remember what a mattress feels like.

"Same here. Of course, I usually slept in Link's hat…"

"Oh, be quiet, you two. This is our *destiny* we're talking about here!"

Hey, you started it, talking about sleeping on beds. It's not *our* fault!

"Yeah, Zelda."

"Oh, never mind. Let's just go. Kawhin, do you know where we are?"

I've got an idea.

"Do you know where Kakariko Village is?"

I should hope I do, my people founded that village.

"Good. Let's walk along the edge of the forest, heading north, towards Kakariko. After we stop there for a while, we can keep following the border north to Hyrule Castle Town, if it even exists yet."

Zelda? Can you tell me something about the future?

"Sure, Kawhin. What is it?"

Is it any easier to get food?

They burst out into the light amid laughter and Kawhin asking them what was so funny.

***

He knew no one would come for him. They all knew he was dead.

Hell, even *he* knew he was dead.

Mists thicker than possible swirled around him, creeping along the ground and making it impossible for him to see his own feet when he walked. He was walking through a valley; he could feel the grass beneath his bare feet. Flashes of memories and lives and things that had never happened assaulted his mind and eyes, and the mist changed into a thundercloud, echoing with soft booming and the smell of lightning on a hot summer night. The air all around him was warm and moist, and the air was deathly quiet. With all of his walking and wandering, he had yet to see another.

He climbed the tall hill on his right, hoping to escape the dark fog. When what he judged to be several hours had passed, he looked below him. He had moved just one step away from the ground.

He roared aloud in frustration and leapt back into the valley, landing on all fours like a huge cat. He had discovered long ago that he could not move forwards; but he could go backwards, back into memories of his life, or what had masqueraded as his life. He only realized now that he had wasted his precious time on this world, and he only regretted now that he had not realized it while he still had time.

He turned back in the other direction, and tried to walk forwards again. He cried aloud in joy when he discovered that he was able to take a step, but grunted when his head hit a rock made of his own pain, throwing him back into the shadows in his own mind as his body fell forever.

When he awoke again, he heard a croaking voice say, "Welcome to hell."

He shook the dark fog out of his eyes, and looked around him. There were thousands – no, millions of trees, and mountains. The most noticeable difference was that the fog was gone. The sun beat down on his scarred back.

But the first thing he really noticed was an old woman bent over a stump, moving small pieces across its painted surface.

***

Dun dun dun! Sorry guys, had to do that.

Well, I hope you enjoyed that chapter! I enjoyed writing it, even though it took a few MONTHS to get it typed out…apology cake is handed out to all. Here's a few shoutouts and stuff.

Shoutouts:

Wolf: Wow, how long did that take you? Anyway, thanks for reviewing, and feel free to be obsessive compulsive and review again!

Saikatsu: If I said his body got incinerated, then I'm an idiot. Lemmee see, how to explain this…all right. So, the witch peoples put this stuff on the grass that, if it gets into your bloodstream, imitates death (think the potion in Romeo and Juliet). So his soul didn't really *leave* his body, it just seemed to. And his body didn't get burned, they were stealing magic from him. I hope that clears it up for you, I know it's confusing, that's why I'm changing the earlier chapters. Thanks for critiquing!

In the NEXT Chapter: Zelda, Kawhin and Navi find Kakariko, Urian finds a purpose – I hope – and Tyr recovers and decides what to do type thing. Oh, and the goddesses might have another chat, and our two poor souls in hell get better acquainted. Is that grammatically correct? Oh well.

Fav Song: One Thing by Finger Eleven

Fanfic Pick: For all you X-Men: Evolution and Romy fans, check out Team by Aro. It's very, very funny, and a little mushy too. (GO READ IT NOW!)

Th-th-th-that's al, f-f-f-folks!

-Shawshank (E-mail me, I'm considering changing my penname 'cuz some upstart kid picked shawshank21 as theirs…grr)