A/N: Umm… heh, this chapter is extremely long. Way longer than any other so far. It just turned out that way, so I hope you enjoy it!

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Lost Soul

Brock was a tall, dark fifteen-year-old with the attitude of a Wolfos. His father was the town drunkard. The two were often the topic of discussion among the town gossips. It was impossible not to hear some rumor about them, especially with the rather nosy ladies chattering constantly to each other across their yards. Whenever my mother would hear a bit of the town gossip, she would smile, shake her head, and whisper to me, "There go the clucking cuccos again. They just can't seem to mind their own business."

Most of the gossipers agreed that Brock was probably abused by his father. He was never without a scratch or a bruise somewhere. He and his father lived in a tiny shack of a house toward the back of the village, near the graveyard. Most of the poverty-stricken or less fortunate peasants lived back there also. It was a place that I was not allowed to venture into, mostly because of the small, rundown tavern located in the darkest corner of the village.

Brock could often be seen lurking in the shadows around there, aimlessly wandering and watching the other villagers go about their daily lives. He had a permanent scowl on his face, and he wore dirty and tattered hand-me-down clothes that were far too large for him. He owned no shoes; the soles of his feet were permanently blackened from a lifetime of walking barefoot.

My mother quickly made friends with our next-door neighbor. She was an elderly lady, and she lived with her grandson Arvin, who was around my age. His father had been killed while trying to rebel against Ganondorf, and his mother died after giving birth to him. We connected together through our similarities, including the fact that we both had no father, and he eventually became my only friend in that village. I spent most of my time after home schooling with him, inventing games and going on imaginary adventures together through our tiny yards.

One afternoon, as I recall, when we were about seven years old, Arvin and I were walking around the village. My mother had been involved in a deep conversation with Arvin's grandmother about the future of Hyrule, and we had wandered off after being warned not to go too far.

It was until we approached the old well toward the back of the village that we realized we had indeed gone too far. We began to turn back when I suddenly noticed a dark figure slinking in the shadows from the corner of my eye. I realized it was Brock. While reaching to grab Arvin's arm to warn him, I made the mistake of meeting Brock's eyes, which narrowed into thin slits as he advanced toward us.

"Well, if it ain't two little pups that wandered too far from home," he called. We froze on the spot, neither of us able to speak as Brock stopped nearly inches from us, smirking roguishly.

"Hey," he said suddenly, nodding at me. "You Zelda's kid, ain't ya?"

I opened my mouth, and then closed it. I had never heard anyone refer to my mother by her first name, with the exception of Link, who only did it occasionally.

Brock ignored the fact that I hadn't replied and continued to provoke me.

"Y'know what? You do kinda look like a Gerudo," he sneered, crossing his arms in front of his chest and continuing to stare at me. I avoided his intense gaze and shifted my weight uncomfortably.

"How do you know what a Gerudo looks like?" Arvin piped up boldly from beside me. I stared at him in shock. How could he stand up like that to the creepiest kid in the village?

Brock glared at him, his towering form drowning us in his shadow. "Are you callin' me a liar?" he asked threateningly, his nostrils flaring. I could practically see the steam coming out of his pointy ears.

Arvin shifted his eyes, but he did not cower from the much larger boy. "No," he said quietly.

"That's what I thought," Brock said menacingly, and he turned back to me.

"So…," he said, again staring me down with those piercing eyes. "What's it like? Being the bastard son of… well, you know who."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I piped up, immediately regretting it. Brock fixed his stare on me, and his eyes narrowed. I inwardly shivered, and I could feel myself become tense and ready to run if need be. But fortunately, at that moment, my mother's voice could be heard off in the distance calling my name.

Brock leaned closer to me. "Meet me at midnight in the graveyard t'night," he said in a low voice, "and maybe you'll find out." He smirked as he silently walked away and disappeared into an alley just as my mother spotted us.

"Kiran! Arvin! Oh, thank the goddesses," my mother muttered as she grabbed us by the hands and led us back home. "Don't ever let me catch you wandering so far away again," she scolded.

When we arrived back home, she sat and talked with Arvin's grandmother, keeping an eye on us every move we made. So Arvin and I whispered amongst ourselves.

"So, what do you think we should do?" I asked him, a little excited about what sounded to me like a little adventure in our boring lives.

"There's no way we can go, Kiran," he replied. "You know Brock's a bad kid, and going out into the graveyard at night and everything is really dangerous."

I grunted. "What, you think there are ghosts or something? Monsters? Arvie, all of them were gone with Ganondorf."

"Still," he said cautiously, "I'd get in trouble with Grammy, and you'd get in trouble with your mother, and especially the Hero…" he trailed off, knowing how sensitive I was about the subject. Link was fiercely protective of my mother and seemed likely to obliterate anything that might cause her to worry or be unhappy. And it was clear that he would very well do the same to me if I made her worry.

"We won't get caught," I protested. "I wanna know what he was talking about. I wanna be there to defend Mama and me if I need to."

"No, you don't," he said.

"How do you know?" I asked angrily, raising my voice a little. "I gotta know what he means, Arvie!"

"Maybe…it's better not to know," he said slowly.

I stared at him suspiciously. "Do you know something I don't?" I asked him. "Are you in on it, too?"

"No," he replied, but not convincingly enough for me. I abruptly stood up and approached my mother, angrily ordering her to take me home.

"Oh, my," she said, glancing at Arvin's grandmother. "Did you two have a fight?" she asked me.

I began to stalk off home without replying. My mother quickly said goodbye and caught up with me.

"What's wrong? Do you want to talk about it, Kiran?" she asked me.

"No," I replied stubbornly. I kept quiet for the rest of that night. Link stopped by and had some of Mother's dinner, politely declining when my mother asked him to spend the night. He claimed that he had somewhere else to be, which was good for me, for that meant he wouldn't be lurking around while I was trying to sneak out at midnight.

Pretending to be asleep in my bed, I waited until I was sure that my mother had fallen asleep, and then I quietly stole away into the night.

I was greeted by the sound of crickets chirping and frogs croaking as I stepped outside, feeling a gentle night breeze that ruffled my hair. It was an amazingly clear night, and the stars shined brighter than I had ever seen them before. I suddenly shuddered as I felt another breeze, this one colder and harsher. I began to run to the graveyard, fearful of the shadows that seemed to follow me in the darkness.

As soon as I entered the graveyard, I regretted ever stepping foot out of the house. The area was shrouded in darkness, and with the minuscule light of a few flaming torches I could barely see the silhouettes of the stone graves before me. My heart pounding in my chest, I slowly ventured forward.

"Well, well, well. You showed up."

I whirled around to see Brock in the shadows, casually leaning against a grave with his arms crossed in front of his chest. I approached him slowly.

"I must say, I wasn't sure about you," he told me. "You seemed like one a' those prissy Mama's boys, but I guess I was wrong. I s'pose that comes from your daddy."

"Now what do you mean by that?" I asked, tired of this foolish guessing game. "You don't know anything about my father."

"Boy, everyone knows somethin' 'bout your daddy," he said, smirking and tossing his dark hair out of his face. "Every one 'cept you, I reckon."

"I know plenty about him," I retorted angrily.

"No, you just think you do," he said. "Anyway, while you're here, you might as well come up to my place. I'll tell you more there."

"Your place?" I questioned.

"Yeah," he said, turning around and walking toward the back of the graveyard. I hesitated, watching him begin to climb up the tall, brown fence, behind which stood the Shadow Temple. I recalled one time when mother had taken me for a walk in the graveyard. She had said that the Shadow Temple was a sacred place, but also a very dark place, and it was where Impa resided.

Brock turned around to see my hesitation. "C'mon, kid," he said. "We don't have all night."

"I don't think we're supposed to go up there," I said warily.

"Who cares?" he laughed. "Hey, maybe we'll get a glimpse of that so-called Shadow Sage. I thought I saw 'er once when I was up there…"

Before Brock could finish, a distant but terrifying whooshing sound suddenly erupted from the other side of the graveyard. I jumped up, startled, and instinctively ran behind Brock to hide. "What was that?" I whispered fearfully.

"I don't know," Brock replied, his eyes wide. "It… it was probably just the wind. Yeah," he confirmed unconvincingly, "it's the wind. Anyway, are you gonna come up or not? It's a great place. A little dark and creepy, but you ain't afraid of that stuff, are ya?"

"No," I replied, shifting my eyes worriedly. "I'd just… rather not go up there."

Brock stared at me for a few moments, his face expressionless. Then, it suddenly softened and he said, "Alrighty. I won't make you go. I s'pose you're a little too young, anyways."

I looked up at him, surprised. "T-Thank you," I said softly. I watched as he plopped down and the ground and leaned against the fence behind him. He stared blankly ahead for a while, and I was too afraid to break the silence that had suddenly come between us. I fidgeted and glanced around nervously. I suddenly squinted, thinking that I could see something moving in the distance, but Brock chose that moment to speak.

"When do you reckon you're movin' back into your castle?" he asked me.

"Uh… I'm not sure," I replied. "In a couple of years, I guess."

"Have you seen how it's comin' along?"

I shook my head. Mother never let me venture out of the village. I had only been in Hyrule Field a few times in my life, and I could hardly remember anything about it.

"Well, I'll tell you…it's looking' pretty nice so far," Brock said. "I went down there a few weeks ago, and I saw it. It's gettin' big, you know."

"Oh," I said. I sat down across from him, cross-legged on the ground.

We talked a bit longer, with him doing most of the talking, of course. He asked me many questions; however, none pertained to the subject of Link and my mother, for which I was grateful. He asked what I was interested in, and although he occasionally went back to taunting me about various things, I found myself thinking that he wasn't so bad after all.

After a while, he revealed to me what it was like to live under the rule of Ganondorf. He had been very young, but he remembered quite clearly how much he and his father had suffered after his mother was killed by one of Ganondorf's minions. He suddenly became quiet as he spoke of this.

"My pap was never the same after that," he said somberly, his dark eyes staring emptily off into the distance. "He started visitin' the tavern, sometimes not returning for days. And we always had to watch out for the monsters, 'cause they were everywhere. Moblins, Poes, Redeads…you name it. Everyone lived in fear of them, and of Ganondorf." He paused, again taking a moment to stare at me intently.

"You really don't know about the rumors, do you?" he asked me. I gazed at him, confused. I shook my head. What was he talking about?

He scratched his head thoughtfully, furrowing his brow. "Damn, I thought you'da figured it out by now. I reckon your mama really don't want you to know…"

"What?" I asked impatiently. "Know what?"

He hesitated. "I shouldn't be the one to tell you…"

"I want to know!" I cried. "Tell me what?"

But before he could answer, another horrifying whooshing sound suddenly rang out from the middle of the graveyard, and I heard what sounded like an evil cackle. Brock leapt to his feet, and I whipped around to see some sort of apparition floating through the graveyard. It looked to me like a giant blob of purple and black, but as it came closer I could make out two devilish eyes and stubby arms. It carried a lantern and swung it around madly, making the light flash in my eyes.

"Oh, shit…" Brock muttered beside me. He suddenly grabbed my arm and yanked me to the side, breaking into a run. "Run! It's a Poe!" he screamed at me, pushing me ahead of him.

I nearly stumbled to the ground because of the strong force of Brock's pushing, but the adrenaline pumping through me kept me going. We dashed to the right, heading around the outside boundaries of the graveyard because the Poe was blocking the pathway leading to the exit.

As I approached the opposite fence, I glanced back to see that Brock was not with me. I started to panic and ran back to search for him. I found him on the ground, his bare foot stuck underneath a tree root that had grown up through the ground. I hurriedly ran to him and desperately tried to help pull his leg out. He moaned in pain, and I saw that his ankle was bent at a sickening angle.

"Run, kid! Go! Get out of here!" Brock shouted at me. I hesitated before shaking my head vigorously and proceeding to pull at his arms with all of my limited strength. The Poe was quickly approaching, his maniacal laughter growing louder.

"You've got to go! Go get help! Just get the hell out of here!" Brock screamed, yanking his arms from my grasp and violently pushing me forward. "GO!"

With one last glance at him, I sprinted down the hill and out of the graveyard, the Poe's laughter and Brock's screams trailing behind me.

"Help!" I screamed frantically as I ran. "Somebody! Please help him!"

A few windows of random houses lit up in the night as I flew past them. I headed toward my house, thinking that my mother would surely know what to do.

"Mama!" I gasped as I burst through the door. "Help, Mama! It's Brock… he's stuck! And there's a Poe…"

Everything that happened immediately after that has become a complete blur in my mind. It's a wonder that I can even recall the event itself in so much detail, because it was so traumatizing to me as a child. I was made to wait in the house while my mother went to fetch the soldiers, so that they could go find out what was going on.

After waiting for what seemed like hours, I heard the door open, and I turned to see my mother slip in. Her eyes were wide with horror and she was embracing herself tightly. She slowly fixed her eyes on me.

"I'm sorry, Kiran," she whispered, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "The boy was killed."

I sort of went into shock then. All I can remember is falling asleep a while after that, and waking a few hours later to hear a loud commotion in the kitchen.

"Who the hell do you think you are, bringing that little bastard here and letting him live like a normal kid?!" I heard a man shout hysterically. "I'll tell you what, you shoulda gotten rid of that… that monster when it was born!" I cautiously opened one eye, seeing Brock's father screaming at my mother, who was clutching a handkerchief fearfully. It was still quite dark outside.

I then heard my mother's soft voice, sounding quite distraught. "Please, sir, my son is sleeping…"

"I don't care!" Brock's father screamed. He began to sob in his anguish. "That demon-child killed my son! My only son, my only family…"

By now, my mother was crying, too. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "but I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding. Kiran wouldn't…"

"Of course he would!" Brock's father interjected, and he roughly grabbed her by the arm. "Just look at who he is! Are you being ignorant, or are you just plain stupid?!"

"That's no way to speak to the Queen," a new voice cut in. We all turned to see Link standing in front of the doorway. His face was calm, yet anyone could tell that he was furious. Brock's father froze immediately in fear, and my teary-eyed mother gasped in relief.

"I'll ask you to get your hands off her Highness, and don't even think about touching her again," Link commanded threateningly. Brock's father immediately complied and backed away.

"Now leave," Link told him. Glaring at him and my mother, Brock's father reluctantly stumbled out of the house, slamming the door brusquely behind him. I trembled in my bed as Link rushed to comfort my mother, both of them completely forgetting about me for the moment.

'Why did Brock have to die?' I asked myself despairingly, tears springing to my eyes. He had barely known me, yet he had saved my life. He was the very last person I would have suspected to commit such an act of bravery. I had just begun to become friends with this misunderstood boy, and in a flash he was taken away, murdered before he had had the chance to truly live.

I'll never understand Fate's plan for the lost souls of the past. It seems to me like such a terrible waste of potential life.

The rest of that day dragged on endlessly. I remained in bed, buried deep under the covers, thankful for once to be forgotten by the world. I vaguely heard snippets of conversations throughout the day.

"Where'd it come from? I just don't understand it. We haven't seen any monsters around here since Ganondorf…"

"He wouldn't lie about such a thing. He isn't like his father…"

Later, I awoke to a painful grumbling in my stomach and realized that I was absolutely famished. I slowly slipped out from under my covers and got out of bed. I didn't see Link or my mother anywhere in the house, so I assumed they had gone off together as usual. Glancing out the window, I could see the sun setting behind the horizon far off to the West, and I headed toward the kitchen to look for something to eat.

As I entered, I gasped sharply, and I felt my stomach tighten. Someone was in the kitchen, facing the opposite wall. It only took me a moment to realize that it was Brock's father.

I quietly crept into the room to find him staring blankly ahead, as if he was in complete shock. At first, I thought he must not have even noticed I was there. He spoke before I could utter a syllable.

"My son," he whispered, keeping his eerily empty look. His eyes seemed to regain their focus as he turned slowly to look at me. Madness danced behind his eyes.

"You," he croaked, his lower lip trembling. "You… murderer. They... they should have killed you when you were born, you… you demon!"

I could do nothing but stare in shock as he shouted at me. I had no idea what he was talking about, but the insane look in his eyes frightened me beyond belief.

He staggered toward me, and I could see the veins popping out of his neck. I backed up as far as I could, until I could feel the solid, icy wall behind me.

"You… spawn of evil!" he screamed, his bloodshot eyes growing wider. I barely had time to cry out before his big hands wrapped around my neck and tightened, choking off my air.

"Filthy Gerudo!" he continued to scream as I struggled desperately to pull his hands off. But I was not near strong enough to make him release his iron grip, fueled by his despair for the loss of his only son.

I tried to scream, tried to make any kind of noise, but nothing came out. I could feel myself beginning to lose consciousness, but all of a sudden, I felt his grip loosen around my neck, and I was abruptly dropped to the ground. I wearily glanced up to see Link standing over Brock's father, lying still on the floor. For a short moment, I was sure that he was dead, but I could see that he was still breathing. Link had struck his head with the hilt of his sword and knocked him unconscious.

He said nothing, and his face revealed nothing as he slid his sword back on his belt. He quickly glanced at me, nodded once, and then quietly walked out of the room.

And I was all alone once again.

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A/N: Hey, I forgot earlier, thanks a lot for the reviews! So very nice of all you people to read and review! Do it again! Please? (This includes you, Mr. Valinor)