Bet you can't guess where the disclaimers are? (Ch. 1, people) I know, I know, but I have to keep saying it. Honestly. Well...I'm a big fan of Longfellow, anyone read his work? But then again I'm also a fan of Brian Jaques, can you tell? It all sort of goes together. I can't even see how far this story is going, I feel its epic-ness... As always, tell me what you think.

Ch. 24

The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep,

And round the pebbly beaches far and wide

I heard the first wave of the rising tide...

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The roar of the water around his ears began to calm, until it was only a distant sound, and his eyes closed of their own accord.

The grip on his legs never seized, but no longer did he notice it. It was much easier now to just relax. The pain in his lungs and throat was gone, and in him there was a slight confusion at the feeling of floating. His body finally relaxed, and he began to drift, limp, in the lazily sifting water.

A noise, small and sharp, seemed to be niggling at his mind, and he frowned. Who was trying to disturb his sleep? It came again, and he twitched, annoyed at the bothersome sound. Finally, exasperated, he opened his eyes, and took in the depths of the water.

Far away, at first, but moving quickly, a sleek, slender shape was swimming towards him, and vaguely he heard words, seemingly from the precious air bubbles that were squeezed from his lungs.

"It's you!"

He turned his head slowly, and blinked, following the shape as it grew. It came towards him until he recognized the light teal of the skin, and the deep, large obsidian eyes.

A Zora? How?

"I knew we'd meet again!" The voice said. As the Zora approached, its features focused, and through his shadowy vision he could see the certain haughtiness in the face, along with a measure of good-natured kindness.

The Zora came to a halt near him, righting itself until it seemed to stand in the water.

"And I knew you'd come for me, my love!"

His eyes snapped open fully, and he started in surprise. The tentacle's grip had eased, and he found himself floating freely.

Not real, the vague thought came to him. An illusion. His chest burned fiercely, and he clutched at it, nonplused. When he had looked back up, the Zora was gone. He looked at the spot for a few more moments, and then turned resolutely towards the sea creature.

It watching him with dimly shining eyes; slits of fine yellow that flickered rapidly from the head-or what he took to be the head. Its mouth, a dark cavern, opened widely, and it produced a shrill scream that deafened him momentarily. He reeled back, and watched in trepidation as the tentacles shot around him, coming down to wrap him in their crushing grips. Link twisted away kicking at the closest of the limbs, and began to swim furiously towards the one that dangled his sword invitingly, his lungs still tingling with the strange fire from within.

*************

A seizing pain in his chest brought him slowly towards awareness, and his brows furrowed at the pressure. It continued, in intervals, and finally, from the depths of unconsciousness, he began to rise.

"C'mon, lad! That's it! Giv' the sea back its water, ya greedy cad!"

He came reeling into consciousness, choking on the seawater and blood that sat in his throat like a thick sludge. It finally began to come up, and he struggled to turn as it threatened to gag him. Helping hands roughly turned him over, and he proceeded to cough up the rest of the water in his lungs and stomach. Voices loomed in and out of his hearing, and he forcefully tried to get his bearings.

"Goodness! Here you are! And to conceive they thought you expired! Pshaw!"

The voice was familiar, and he clutched at it, allowing it to lead him back to his thoughts.

"T...Tappor?" He wheezed, trying to pull himself up. His vision was slightly blurred, and he tried to sit up, his sides aching.

The little scholar patted his hand.

"In the very flesh, my friend. And yourself, too, might I add!"

Link sat up, dazedly, and looked around. He had been lain in the center of the largest keel boat, four more following closely behind. In the distance, he could see the wreck of the New Dawn, and he watched sadly as it's once great form began to sink into the murky waters. The boiling of the sea was gone, and with it the creature.

"What... what happened?" He finally asked. The Captain, who had been standing at the head of the their boat, roaring out orders left and right, turned to steadily move back to where he was sitting.

"Avast! Well stap me rudder, if it ain't our warrior, up from 'is mornin' nap!" He chuckled, and looked as if he was about to thump Link good naturededly on the back. Tappor's warning look stopped him though, and he merely clasped the youth's shoulder. "That twas some guts, lad, if I ever saw 'em! Foolish o' ya, but gutty as 'ell!"

Link suddenly remembered. "My sword!" He said, alarmed, looking around wildly.

"Alay yor fears, matey!" One of the rowing sailors called back. "It's righ' there at yor feet!"

Link looked down, and spotted the now green-colored blade. He bent down stiffly, and lifted it up. Absent-mindedly, he felt for the belt at his waist, and ran a hand over the two ocarinas clasped there.

"We thought ya were a gonner!" The same sailor said. "But that grea' fish threw yer from the water like you was an arrer'!"

Link looked around slowly, getting his wits back. The last of the sun was sinking below the horizon, casting an orange glow on everything it touched. On the last boat in the line, where most of the supplies were, sat Ichiro, his back turned to the rest of the crew. He was crouched, his sword leaned against his shoulder, his face turned away.

There's more to his story, Link thought. I wonder what happened to make him so cold?

His thoughts were interrupted by another round of the Captain's unfazed bellow of orders to his crewmembers. Link sighed, wincing at the pain in his ribs, and laid his head back, letting the darkness claim his tired body once again.

*************

RedEye stared impassively as the crew dragged the creature in by a tentacle, their faces screwed up in disgust and not a little fear. Behind the dark shape, floating near the surface, was a trail of green tinted water that seemed to stretch far behind it. Other tentacles made a feeble attempt to latch onto the gunwall of the BloodWave, falling short and sliding back down the hull to plop into the now-warm water.

The Second-In-Command, a burly, tattooed Hylian who had grown up in Abaka, sidled up to him carefully, watching his Captain's features.

"Sir," He finally said, in a low voice. RedEye slowly dragged his cool, pale scarlet eye away from the scene below, and turned to his Second.

The pirate swallowed, and then tightened his jaw.

"What're your orders, Sir? Watch says we're heading' inter hostile territories... Should I give t' signal ter come about?"

He waited silently, before RedEye finally spoke.

"No... Throw the weight... I want to reconnoiter, and find out what the hell happened to my monster." He turned away, and moved down the deck, watching his crews' progress.

The Second winced, but saluted sharply to the turned back, and stomped away to give orders.

Far down the deck, the galley door swung open, and a young pirate came dashing out. He raced across the deck, towards RedEye, and was caught around the arm by a veteran crewmember.

"Watch yorself," The elder growled, dragging him the side. "Ain't ya got no sense, ya block'ead? Yon Cap'n's in one o' 'is moods!" The youger pirate stopped to catch his breath.

"But I got news fer 'em!" He responded, roughly tugging his arm away. "It's about the pris'ner!" The elder scowled, stepping forward.

"Then yer gonna have ter wait, I said! Lands alive, dont'cher know anythin'? Or are ya lookin' fer a floggin'?"

"But I got ta-"

"That will be all." Their Captains voice boomed, and both froze. The elder gritted his teeth, turning on the youth.

"Now look whatchyer did, yer-"

"Did I not make myself clear?" The voice called, and the older pirate fell silent. RedEye approached them, a new fire in his dark eye. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he stepped forward, never taking his eye from them.

"You," He said sharply, looking towards the younger. "Report."

The youth swallowed. "Cap'n, the pris'ner 'as fallen inter a sleep or sum'thin'!"

RedEye's single eye narrowed, taking on a darker hue.

"Fallen asleep? You came to tell me she fell asleep?"

"No, er, I meantersay," He gulped. "She's in a mag'c sleep! She won' respond ter anythin' I do!"

"Damn!" RedEye suddenly said, his face twisting in anger. It was a rare moment of emotion for the Captain, and all present took a step back reflexively. "You," He told the pirate. "Come with me. The rest of you! Get back to work!" The last was said in a shout, and they scurried to obey. The young pirate nodded, and lead him downstairs to the galley where the prison cells were held.

*************

RedEye removed the sword-glove from his left hand, and used it to feel the young prisoners pulse, his face darkening by the moment.

It had slowed to an almost indecipherable pitch, the rhythm coming in every few seconds, heavily.

He sighed. It was a pity. He'd hoped she'd last longer, and prove some worth, or perhaps even a Captain's wife...

Rising again, he looked at the form with disgust.

"Cap'n?" The pirate said timidly. RedEye turned to him, with narrowed eyes.

"Leave her here." He finally said. "If she doesn't improve, wrap her in something and throw her over... I can't abide the living dead."

Thus said, he turned and left, anxious to leave the dark, shadowy walls and shapes of the below-deck galley.

RedEye, was, after all, a very superstitious pirate.

*************

By the dawn of the third day, all of the crew was feeling the effects of hunger, exhaustion, and lost hope. They'd been rowing straight for three days, changing shifts every few hours. The boats were cramped, and there was no room for personal space, and all were squished together.

Link found himself constantly on edge from the closed in space around him, his natural claustrophobia wearing away at his nerves. He slept little, and when he did, it was only to see confusing images, vague and haunting, that forced him reeling back into consciousness. He took the watch mostly, and rowed when he could, but now, as the sun rose for the third time over their small band, he rose on stiff, shaky legs to walk carefully down the boat. Along the way, he accidentally stepped on several hands, legs, and a few heads, and received grumbled curses and threats.

"Sorry... sorry," He muttered, finally reaching the end of the boat. A few feet back, the second boat rowed, and took a stumbling leap, crashing into several of the sailors who had been sitting in the front of the boat, to the raised outrage of several. "Sorry about that!" He repeated again, carefully trying to weave his way down this boat also. When he had repeated this procedure several times, annoying a large amount of sailors and jumping many boats, he landed on the last boat, the supply boat, where only two sailors and Ichiro rode.

Ichiro did not turn as he approached, but Link sat down, exhausted, next to him.

"Hey," He said, letting his legs dangle over the back of the boat. "Is it just me, or are you sick of this, too?"

"We're all sick of it." Ichiro growled, not turning. "I suggest you find some patience." That said, he fell silent. Link sighed, wishing once more that Saria was there, if only for the fact of her speaking skills. He heaved another sigh, and tipped his head back to observe the clear morning sky. After a few minutes, to his surprise, Ichiro spoke.

"Why did you come?" He said.

Link turned in startlement. "What?" Ichiro turned to glare at him, his gray-blue eyes a steely tint.

"Why the hell did you come? That Goddesses-be-Damned scholar, I understand, but you? You only get in the way."

Link stared at him for a few moments, his ire rising. "Look, I didn't choose to come!" He shot back. "I had that decided for me! Its not like I woke up one day and decided to go be a hero. You're wrong about me, Ichiro." The Chief looked away, and Link gritted his teeth. "I said you're wrong! Two months ago, I was just a guy working on a ranch, and now, all of a sudden, everyone expects more from me, like I'm some kind of warrior or something! I didn't ask for this!"

Ichiro stood up suddenly, and turned to peer down at him.

"And you think anyone else did?" He growled. "Do you think anyone else was excited to realize we're on the brink of chaos? That our King and Queen are-" He turned away, cutting the sentence off, his face bitter. Link felt remorse, and he turned away also, letting his eyes rest on the horizon. It was a few more minutes before Ichiro spoke again.

"If you can't handle it, then when we hit land, you can leave my crew. You and that damned scholar, and the girl. Children and old men," He snapped. "You weren't made for fighting."

Link stood up beside him, but Ichiro kept his face turned towards the sun. Link felt shaky again, and his headache had returned.

"You're wrong about me, Ichiro." He heard himself say. The words had slipped out before he could stop them. "Not because I was made to fight... But because I choose to fight..."

Ichiro made no reply, and Link lapsed into silence, also, both taking a seat at the back of the boat again.

*************

It was sunset, the line of the horizon merging, before they saw there first sign of the new world they were embarking to.

Out of the darkness, came a single flicker of light, and the watch, perched in the prow of the first boat, called out in his bass voice.

"Light ho!"

The crew came to life.

"Shut yer trap, ya fool!" The Captain hissed, pushing the hapless watch out of the way. "Do yer want 'em to know we're here?" All fell silent, and they peered into the darkness at the shadow form that was moving slowly towards them.

"K'hoy!"

The single cry came from the form ahead, and slowly, the shape of a small craft could be made out, containing around a dozen figures. The one who had spoken stood up in the boat, a flickering lamp held up in his hand.

Link and Ichiro made there way across boats to sit by the Captain in the first. The Captain turned to them.

"I think they be our resc' crew." He told them in a low voice. Ichiro nodded slowly, and then turned to Tappor, who had been watching in interest.

"What did he say?" Ichiro shot back to him.

Tappor blinked. "You presume me to know? I came to determine the map. This language they speak will most likely be considered a dead language to us."

Ichiro stared at him blankly for a moment, and then turned back to the Captain.

"Captain."

Link looked between each, and then impulsively stood up.

"Ahoy!" He shouted across the distance. Ichiro, swearing, grappled him around the legs and jerked him down.

"You fool!" He hissed. "What if they were RedEye's men? Or other pirates?" He was interrupted by another cry from the approaching boat.

"K'hoy! K'hoy!"

Link and Ichiro looked at each other.

"It could be the translation of the equivalent nautical term." Tappor suggested in the following silence.

"Either way," Link gritted, yanking himself out of the grasp Ichiro had of his collar. "We have to find out. Or else we're going to be stuck out here forever."

The Captain turned to the Chief in the growing dark.

"Wot do yer say, Chief?"

Ichiro's expression was cloaked by the night, but he sat stiffly in his seat.

"I suggest we go towards them." He said in a low voice. "But everyone, be ready with arms!"

The soldiers and Guard alike nodded, and all braced themselves for the meeting of the two different parties.