3 – Witchin

Time, Link mused as he stood in front of a desk creaking under the weight of a mountain of scrolls, was something he was rather short of at the moment. Somewhat ironic, he knew, considering he was the Hero of Time itself. If he'd been fortuitous enough to have the luxury of time, he probably could have basked in the fact that it was a rather lovely day today – sunlight poured down from a cloudless sky, coating the city with a layer of honey, and the freshly blooming flowers – an explosion of colours and scents – swayed in the gentle breeze outside.

"Say that again?" a voice rumbled from behind the desk. "You want a what?" The Chief of Mountbasten's Guardsmen – a blob of a Goron with a fierce face and clothed apparently in a tunic of weapons that clinked every time he moved – pierced the Shadow Lord of Castleton with a severe stare.

Yes, Link thought, time was short and petty little small-minded blighters like this Chief here were only more obstacles in his path. But he wasn't going to let them know that. He trusted. Everything would work out in the end – it always did.

"I was wondering," Link said, arms folded and voice pleasant, "whether myself and my esteemed colleagues here," he nodded at Mr Red, Simon DeLance and the ReDead standing behind him, "could trouble you for a permit that would enable us to enter Kokiri Forest and the Lost Woods?" A clock ticked on the wall, so loud that it was almost clucking, and the Shadow Lord was so certain that it was mocking him that it took every ounce of his self-control not to reach for his sword and shatter the bleedin thing to tiny bits. "Please?"

"Please?" The Chief almost smirked as he mimicked the Shadow Lord's voice.

"You'll have to forgive me, mate," Link replied, his fingers drumming against his arm. "I'm just the type of person who thinks things would be a whole lot more smoother if we all just followed proper manners."

The Goron raised a shaggy eyebrow. "And that's you, is it? Well-mannered?"

"I try my best. You'll forgive me if I don't always succeed. Better to have a principle to aspire to, something to try to aim for, to get there in the end no matter how many times you fall on your face while trying; better that than to have nothing but you're own petty little caprices driving you on."

The Chief pondered over those words as he flicked a tuft of hair peeking out from under his tunic. "A principle that you fail to live up to? Doesn't that make you a hypocrite?"

Link smiled; a small, sad one. "No, mate," he said. "Makes me human. But only if I admit it. Otherwise, I'd just be deluded, wouldn't I? Think I'm one thing, when in reality I'm another." Warmth entered his smile. "But if I do reach that point, if I do manage to encompass all those pretty principles – then, mate, that's when I become more than human."

"More than-"

"That's when I become truly alive."

Stretching his arms, his shoulder clicking as a result, the Goron Chief decided all of a sudden that he didn't like the turn this conversation was taking. The Shadow Lord of Castleton was familiar to him, but currently the man standing serenely in front of him seemed to have become a lot more...focused in his middle years. "So," the Chief said, smiling briefly as he scratched an itch at the corner of his mouth. "What was it you wanted again?"

Liquid blue eyes, as calm as a lake on a lazy summer afternoon, gazed back. "A permit to Kokiri Forest, if you'd be so kind."

"You hear that, Lemo?" the Chief said, turning to face a small Calatian scribbling away at a scroll, the scratch of his ink-stained quill whispering in the stuffy air. "Mr 'Shadow-Lord' requires a permit. Ha!"

"Ha!" Lemo chimed in, not even bothering to look up.

The Chief's chair creaked as he leaned forward. "You do realise that Kokiri Forest is now off-limits due to the Fairies going all-out against each other's throats? Little scamps, the lot of them."

Link was well aware of that fact – he also knew that since Mountbasten was closer in proximity to the forest than Castleton only an official document from here would secure safe passage for his merry miscreants through the warzone. "I was hoping," Link went on, "that you could pass me one on the sly. You know, in recognition for all the civic duties I've undertaken in this fair city of yours."

The Chief burst out with a bellow of deep laughter. "Can you believe this boy?" he spat. "Civic duties!" His eye gleaming, relieved that he was finally on familiar territory again, the Chief's hand flicked through the pile of scrolls then, after a moment's pause, he pulled one free with a crackle of parchment, then slammed it down on the desk.

Link leaned forward, peering, and read the words from the scroll. "WANTED: Link-" a bucket crashed outside, drowning out his voice – " a.k.a 'The Hylian', the alleged Shadow Lord of Castleton for Crimes Hereby Unmentionable. REWARD: 10, 000 rupees of pure gold."

Leaning back, angled sunlight glinting on his hair, the Chief eyed the Shadow Lord, a self-satisfied smirk sitting on his face. "What do you think about that then? Hmm?"

"Hmm?" Lemo chorused.

Link grinned and arched an eyebrow. "Ten thousand?"

"Ten thousand," the Chief confirmed, nodding.

"Ten big bahonies," Lemo said.

"In that case," the Shadow Lord said, holding out his wrists, "I turn myself in."

The Goron Chief spluttered, sending flecks of saliva spinning into the air, as though he were choking. "What? Why?"

"Because, mate, I want to claim the reward on myself. Could do a lot with that kind of coin, if you know what I mean." He winked.

Eyes bulging, the Chief stared. "You can't turn yourself in to claim the reward!"

"Can't! Can't!" Lemo said, shaking his head.

"Why ever not?"

Before the Chief could reply, a dull thud rang out from behind them. They all turned to the source of the noise.

"Sorry!" said the ReDead. "Nothing to worry about! It's just my leg, it's fallen off, that's all!"

The Chief jiggled his not-quite-inconsiderable bulk in an attempt to regain his composure. "I don't think-"

A crash cut him off. They all turned.

"Sorry!" the ReDead said cheerfully, looking up at them from the floor. "Just not used to standing on one leg, that's all. Be fixed in a jiffy!"

"I wish I could fall apart like that," Simon DeLance said, his voice glum. "Would mean I would finally be rid of this stain they call life."

"Oh, come on, now, old chap," Mr Red chimed in, smiling. "No need to be so down. See, my friend the ReDead? Has a physical and nervous breakdown every five minutes, but he keeps on plugging away, the little trooper, what?"

Simon glared at him. "Why are you always so bloody happy? Don't you know what kind of a cruel, cruel world we live in?"

Mr Red, eyes sparkling and smile widening, went on, "Yes, isn't it wonderful, what? Fancy a bon-bon?"

Eyes narrowed, Simon stared at the candy. "Where did you get that? You didn't have that before." His eyes widened. "You didn't steal them from that child in the street, did you?"

"Deprived them from undeserving hands, old chap," Mr Red replied. "Besides, the child was torturing a cat – I distinctly remember how you said that you wish you could just cut your own head off from the sheer horror of it." He sniffed. "Though, to be honest, I would think your energies would have been better expended in stopping the little rascal, what?"

"Yes, but," Simon said, righteous indignation making his face puffy. "That doesn't mean you could take his...his bon bons!"

"Actually," Mr Red said, out of earshot. "I asked him nicely. He doesn't like bon bons, the silly chap."

Simon shook his head. "Just what is the world coming to, I ask you!" he seethed. "Makes me just want to jab the sharp end of a quill straight through my eyes!"

"Excuse me!" the ReDead called from the floor. "Could someone just help me out a tad? It's just that I think my big toe has rolled away and I can't seem to find it."

A tremor ran through the tiny room, a tremor that morphed into a shudder then an ear-splitting bellow. They all turned to see the Chief laughing helplessly, slumped in his chair, tears running down his golden face. He raised his eyes to meet Link's. "This?" he gasped. "This is the motley crew you're going to take into a warzone?"

The Shadow Lord stood still, a picture of cool tranquillity itself. Just trust, he said to himself, just trust. "I have every confidence in my erstwhile companions," he said softly.

The Chief regarded him for a moment. "You know what?" he said, sniffing away the last few tears. "I think I'm going to – yes, I am." He pulled free a fresh parchment, scooped the quill from Lemo's hand, then began writing. "I'm going to give you a permit – just to see how you get yourself out of this pickle. If you can, that is."

Silently, the Shadow Lord gave thanks. "You're too kind."

Waving away the compliment, the Chief finished the permit with a flourish then pushed it into Link's hands. "Away with you now. I've got real business to attend to."

Within minutes the group found themselves standing outside the Guardstation in the middle of a Mountbasten street. If he'd had a tad more time, Link was sure he'd be able to appreciate the beauty that had gone into constructing the city – the buildings were all works of art, lovingly carved from ivory and marble, and coloured reptilian emerald and flaming scarlet to match the dragons that flew overhead, silent natives of the Mountbasten sky. Sunlight refracted off of the dwellings making them shimmer with their own ethereal rainbow coloured light – a downright splendid spectacle, if Link said so himself.

Gravel crunched under his heel as the Shadow Lord spun around to face his crew. "Gentlemen," he said. "Take this opportunity to find some R&R and – if you'd be so prudent – find some weapons for yourself. Meet me outside the Grand Library at sunset – oh, and I do hope you'll be punctual; I'd hate to have to come and track you down. Now, scat!" He snapped his fingers as a sudden thought came to him. "Oh, and young Mr DeLance, mate, if you'd be so kind so as not to do away with yourself, thanks very much. Stay away from nooses, ropes, crossbows and poisons – remember, me Fairies will just put you back together again." It wasn't true – dead was dead, and the Fairies only did their work on those seriously injured, but Simon DeLance didn't know that. And, besides, he only had two Fairies left, not including Navi. Link smiled. "Do we have an understanding?"

Simon glared, but nodded sullenly.

Link didn't precisely know what to do with Simon DeLance. He'd hoped that the actual shock of being pushed from a ledge would have knocked some sense into the blighter, but sadly it was not to be. Normally, the Shadow Lord would have no time for such a person – to him, life wasn't something to be thrown away so casually – but he needed the fool boy for the time being. Link himself was certain – though not exactly sure why he was so certain, and definitely wouldn't be spilling his guts out to anyone else to explain – that everything in life was bound together and intricately weaved from a single source, and so everything and everyone was needed, in their own little way, even if they themselves were too blind to see what their place in the grand scheme was. That's how he'd learned to just...trust. All was one, and one was all, or something. Still. It seemed to work just fine for him.

Watching the others disperse, Link stood listening to the carriages rumble past, the hooves of the horses tapping rhythmically against the dusty streets. After a moment he slipped into the crowd, and let them carry him off, as though he were caught in a tide of people, then, after spotting a suitably secluded spot far from the throng, he slipped away, the ringing buzz of the townsfolk's voices fading away into the background. He glanced left then right, then reached into his hat.

"Navi, love," he said, his voice quiet. "Patch me through to Castleton, if you'd be so kind."

The little Fairy whirled out from under his hat with a jingle, then spun to a stop, an azure crystal glittering in her tiny hands. "Hey!" she said. "Say 'Hello!'"

The crystal glowed with a sharp light then, as though fog had parted, it became opaque, revealing a grey skinned face distorted only by the jagged angles of the large jewel. "Link?" a feminine voice called. "Is that you?"

"Ah, Flipper, love," the Shadow Lord said. "Nice to be in touch."

The grey skinned face narrowed her obsidian eyes. "The name is Ruto," she said, menace coating each word. "As I'm sure you're aware."

"Whatever floats your boat, love," the Shadow Lord replied. He took in a deep breath, his demeanour changing instantly. "How is she?" he asked, a grim note entering his voice. "How are they all?"

"The Princess is getting worse, Link," Ruto replied, her voice forlorn. "So are the children. We're running out of time – whatever you're planning to do, you have to do it quick." An image of a clock appeared, and the Shadow Lord saw with some distress that the second hand was already facing the numeral 'six.' They were not counting hours, though, only the number of days left before the Princess – his wife, his beloved – and the children would perish from the mysterious disease that had struck them down a week earlier. Trust, the Shadow Lord intoned inwardly to still his nerves. It always works out in the end, and even when it doesn't, it's never as bad as you thought it would be. That was what he'd told young Simon and that's what he had to believe himself. There's always something good in every situation, Link, was what Zelda used to say. But it's only the wise who see it.

"I'm on it, Crabs," he said, smiling. "Nothing to worry about."

"It's Ruto!" she snapped. "Ru-to!"

"Cod roe?" the Shadow Lord replied. "What kind of fool name is that? Link out!"

Ruto's scream of rage was cut short as the crystal's light vanished, snuffed out like a candle.

Wrapping his cloak around him, the Shadow Lord prepared to leave – when the temperature suddenly dropped. Link rolled his eyes as veins of jagged of lightning popped in and out of existence above his head, filling the air with the stench of burnt metal. Digging his heels into the earth, the Shadow Lord winked at Navi, then spun around to face: "Twinrova! Hel-lo!"

The witches, Koume and Kotake, circled his head, cackling as their gnarled brooms creaked under their weight. Bloodshot bulging eyes penning in huge hooked noses, the twin witches were nothing but bags of bad trouble wrapped in wrinkled skin. One trailed a bridge of ice in her wake, the other a tongue of flame.

Link stood his ground, grinning as though he'd met up with old friends. "So," he said, his voice cheery. "How's the diet going, then?"

"What?"

Shaking his head as he realised his mistake, the Shadow Lord quickly corrected himself: "I mean, how are you, mates?"

Koume and Kotake stopped short, bobbing up and down in mid-air as the air turned crimson overhead. "We," they said in unison, their voices a dam of ice, "are not men."

"I'm terribly sorry, I do apologise," Link said. It was starting to hurt to grin this long. "How are you, love?" he said, nodding to Koume. "Loves," he added, glancing at Kotake. Finally, he looked at both at the same time and added: "Lovers."

"What!"

"So!" Link said, not missing a beat. "What brings you out here to the great outdoors? I thought the Princess had banished you away to your little desert fortress – one of the more prudent of her pre-marriage ideas, if I may add – and that's where you now while away the no-doubt lonely twilight hours, conducting your sick, perverse breeding experiments with poor innocent camels."

""WHAT!"

"I mean," the Shadow Lord said quickly, massaging the sudden throbbing in his head while Navi darted behind him to hide. "Why are you here?"

Kotake kicked the air, setting her broom off, and cackled wildly. "Eheheheheheh!" she spat. "We get one day out every week, and just had to find you."

"I'm touched. No, really."

The witches ignored him as spears of lightning flashed out from the dark clouds encircling their heads. "Eheheheheheh!" Kotake said. "Heard the Hero of Time was in a spot of bother, we did."

"Heard things are not well up in Castle Paradise," Koume added.

"Fit as a fiddle, me," Link said, arms crossed over his chest once more. The wind blew, making his cloak balloon up, fluttering as stray scrolls bounced clattering down the street.

"Eheheheheheh!" Kotake said, the sun peeking out from behind her oversized head. "Not you, Hero. The Princessssss."

Koume grinned a yellow, rotted grin. "Tell us allll about it. Eheheheheh!"

"Why?" Link asked, genuinely curious.

"Why, we maybe able to help, of course!" They both cackled some more, as though this was the most hilarious concept in history.

One eye narrowed, the Shadow Lord pondered, then shrugged and snapped his fingers. "Navi – a little exposition, if you'd be so kind."

The Fairy twirled into the air, spilling twinkling light as though it were rain. "Hey!" she said, turning to one witch, then the other. "Listen!" She took in a deep breath, her incandescent form striking in contrast to the darkness of the witches, then said: "Fairies – two camps – one the Service Fairies like me-" she paused to pose a little "- who like to help people, the other, the Self-Righteous Posse who want Fairies to be pure and independent and and and something." She gasped, then: "Castleton – mysterious sickness – struck the Princess and all the children – physicians said they'd all die- Link, because he reads a lot and studies –" she paused to let the Shadow Lord shrug modestly "-found out that the disease can be cured, but only if a large group of Fairies work together to project their healing powers."

Another gasp, then: "But! Now the two camps are at war – they're after the Treasure of the Ancients, you see, and they both believe the other has it– but in reality, Link found out-" she paused to let him sheepishly shrug again "-that the Treasure is buried in a forgotten booby-trapped Temple in Kokiri Forest." She nodded, just because it felt like the right thing to do at the time. "We're going to find it – find ourselves a large group of Fairy Tribes- and then...and then..." She glanced at the Shadow Lord.

Link shrugged. "Well, to be brutally honest, I don't really know. I'm not even entirely certain that it's going to work." He felt a twinge in his heart as his tongue finally formed the words that had been rolling around his head for some time. "Something will turn up, it always does, wouldn't you know. I'll probably sell the Treasure to the highest bidder – amongst the Fairies, of course – but only if that particular party agrees to help me as a result. Then, I'll most likely dump the jewels and let them kill each other."

He could feel Navi glare at him, waves of disapproval rolling off of her tiny face. She turned back to the witches. "And then," she said, her voice suddenly laced with a sharp edge, "we're going to save the little children and the Princess!" She panted, out of breath, before adding: "Again. Save the Princess, again. Can you help?"

Tiny spheres of crackling lightning popped and flashed as the twins howled with gleeful laughter. "No!" they chorused. "But we can spend the rest of our imprisoned days making merry at your misfortune!" Enshrouded by billowing clouds, they peered down at the Shadow Lord. "You, Hero, are in it deep."

Link stepped forward. "And you, mates-" Koume glared. "-loves-" Kotake snarled. "-lovers-" They both bared their teeth. "Friends." Link wiped his brow. "You both are leaving."

"We are?" the twins chimed in unison.

The Shadow Lord lifted the Goron Bomb that he'd surreptitiously procured from his hat while Navi had been speaking, and grinned as the spitting sparks illuminated his face. "Oh, but I simply insist."

Their already huge eyes bulging as they saw the sizzling fuse, the witches shrieked, then kicked the air, desperate to escape, but only managing to collide into the other and-

Link lobbed the bomb. There was a flash, a rumble and a plume of smoke, then the twin witches went flying into the air, a fountain of flame chasing them all the way.

"Woo hoo!" the Shadow Lord cried, watching their flight path. People from the city screamed as the witches smashed through one tall tower in a puff of imploding splinters and shattered glass, then another and yet another. "HahahahaHAAAA!" Link cackled, hopping from one foot to the other. He strained his neck to see two dots vanish into the distance, accompanied by a faint whistle that ended abruptly in a dull thud. Wiping his hands, the Shadow Lord beckoned to his Fairy friend. He cleared his throat noisily. "Come, come, Navi, no time for your little fun and games," he said, as he quickly composed himself. "There's still work to be done."