Chapter 4

Two months after Hyrule fell to Kamau . . .

The traveler stood in the mountain pass that led down to a dense forest, not the Kokirian

that lay off to the east, and gazed down at the trail that would take him into Hyrule. He felt a fluttering in his stomach much like butterflies fluttered about inside. He'd left Hyrule many years ago and had veered away from it out of fear. Now he was once again back and about to venture down into the land after hearing word of his old kingdom's fall and the disappearance of two individuals.

He drew a deep breath and threw back his broad shoulders as he began the descent down into the forest. His eyes were on the rocky path, looking for rocks and such that could turn an ankle, but his mind was far from the trail. It was dwelling upon an incident that had . . .

He frowned as the path dipped suddenly and he was forced to jump down, 'Did it really take place? Or was it a dream . . . ?'

He shook his head and continued down the path while dwelling upon the half reality that haunted him. Had the incident taken place? Or hadn't it? Had that time taken place or was it now? As always, he could come up with no answers and so he shoved the thoughts away from him.

The forest soon rose up before him and he stood at the edge of its shadowy depths and gazed in trying to penetrate the darkness. He was a slender man that hid his rock hard muscles with ease and moved with an almost unearthly grace. The traveler had never needed to bear a weapon as his body was usually more than enough in a fight, besides a stray, heavy limb usually served as a decent weapon. He brushed the stray strands of blonde hair out of his red hued eyes, a defect since birth that did not affect his eye sight in the least. His face was hidden from view by long strips of white clothe that were wound around the lower section of his face and around the crown of his head. His close-fitting shirt and hose were covered by a white tunic that bore his family's crest, a single red eye with a red tear and three triangle shaped lashes. The tunic was tattered at the armholes as though the sleeves had been torn off and the bottom hem was tattered as well from wear. His stance proclaimed to all that this was a warrior not to be messed with.

He strode into the forest boldly with his hands made into tight fists at his side and the shadows enclosed about him. As he took in the shadows of the forest, He said, "Welcome home to Hyrule, Sheik."

As it had been since that strange day so many years ago, The sound of his name, even from himself, made him halt and gaze down at the palms of his hands. Was he really the same Sheik as he'd once been? He closed his open hands into fists and gazed off into the distance, 'Am I still that fearless Sheikah? Or . . . '

The blurred half memories flooded him and he tried to shake them away before he was once again lost in them. A startled cry from somewhere up ahead jerked him from dwelling upon . . . 'Is it the past?'

He took off through the forest at a run as he was unfamiliar with the terrain enough to dare to use his Sheikah powers just then. His feet landed upon the trail making no more noise than that of a rabbit and soon he drew near to a clearing in which a fire burned and people moved. Their heavy movements and the glint of steel warned him that they were soldiers and he slipped into the heavy brush that lined the trail. He crept toward the clearing trying to make no sound so that he could find out what they were up to.

Sheik reached a barrier of dense briars and found a place where he could slither through. He pulled himself through the brambles until he reached the edge of the clearing and peer through the twisted branches at the figures in the clearing.

His eyes narrowed, 'Kamau . . . '

The hulking warlord stood next to a man dressed in a long dark cloak whose back was to Sheik and the both of them were quite close to him. His sharp ears perked at the sound of their hushed voices and he could just hear what they said. Kamau glanced around and then back to the cloaked figure, "Are you sure that the princess and her champion still live?"

The voice that replied was unmistakable and made Sheik grow cold, "I would know."

"Are you certain you can create an assassin that will find her?"

"This assassin will trail her like a shadow."

Sheik felt his eyes widen as he lay there and listened with every nerve in his tense body. He knew that . . . 'No . . . wait . . . ,' He shook his head as the half memories swam to the surface of his mind, 'Did I know Ganondorf? Or didn't I? Was I there or in another kingdom at that time?'

He grimaced and forced himself to concentrate on the conversation. He hoped he could keep himself from going mad a bit longer until he knew what these vague half memories were of. Sheik was afraid that he was slowly losing the battle to keep his sanity.

Kamau shifted his enormous weight from foot to foot, "Then why not go ahead and create it then?"

"There is one I'm waiting for and . . . " Ganondorf's head jerked up suddenly and he turned to look straight at Sheik's hiding spot, "Ah . . . He's arrived."

Ganondorf pointed a finger at the briars that surrounded Sheik and shouted a word in a strange language. Sheik ducked and covered his head as power ripped through the briar patch and tore apart the branches. He wondered if he dare try to use his Sheikah magic and risk being swamped by memories when the power died away. As he raised his head, He heard Kamau shout, "Seize him!"

Sheik's head jerked up as the sound of heavy booted feet pounding the ground came at him. He scrambled to his feet as the ugly soldiers of Kamau charged toward him and decided that he would chance his messed up Sheikah magic. As he raised a hand, Ganondorf pointed a gnarled finger at him and shouted another word.

Sheik found himself thrown backwards and pinned to a tree by some unseen power. He fought against it as he tried to get free before the soldiers of Kamau could get to him. His struggles proved useless as their strong hands latched onto him and the power holding him in place vanished. As he was dragged toward Ganondorf, Sheik felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach at the smile upon the dark lord's face, "So we meet again, Master Sheikah."

Sheik glared at him, "I was unaware that we'd met in the first place . . . " The half memories surfaced and he shook his head, "Or did we? Never mind! Release me, Fiend!"

He saw Kamau's hand drop down to his sword hilt, "Shall I?"

As Sheik's eyebrows shot up, Ganondorf was already shaking his head, "No . . . His death will start things in motion . . . " He gave Sheik a sharp look, "But then you know what those things are don't you?"

"I have no . . . " Sheik's voice trailed off as he felt two realities fight for space inside his skull.

Ganondorf chuckled, "Poor Fool, You should have let death claim you the first time."

"First time? What first . . . There was a first time wasn't there? Or was there?"

Sheik felt like he was fighting for breath inside his mind as overlapping images swarmed his mind. He barely heard Ganondorf's cruel full throated laugh or his shouted command, "Roll that wretch's sleeve up! A small amount is all I need at this time, Isn't it, Sheik?"

The conflicting images grew worse at the sound of his name and he froze as he grappled with them. The soldiers quickly rolled the sleeve of his blue shirt up and held his bared forearm outstretched. He did see a glint in Ganondorf's hand and his eyes focused on the long curved dagger that the Gerudo King held, 'That dagger . . . '

He found himself transfixed by the sight of the weapon and couldn't turn his eyes away from it. Ganondorf waved it in front of him and watched as his gaze followed it, "Remember this? Do you remember what it did that first time?"

Sheik found himself swallowing hard as an image moved to the forefront of the jumbled memories in his mind. He saw the dagger coming at him and could fell it entering his chest with a sickening sound. His body began to tremble as Ganondorf once again brought the dagger toward him and watched as the dark Lord held a bowl under his arm. His breath came out in jerky gasps as he breathed hard and barely felt the pain from the dagger cutting a long gash in his arm.

He heard Ganondorf chant as his blood flowed into the bowl, "The blood of a living shadow to bring a shadow to life . . . "

Soon as the bleeding slowed, Ganondorf turned from him and glanced at the men who held Sheik, "Bind that wound and make sure he doesn't die!"

Sheik was only dimly aware of them tightly binding the jagged cut as he felt wrung out from whatever had taken place. As they tied a tight knot in the bandage, surprised shouts came from his captors as a man stepped out of the man's shadow. The man had steel gray hair and hard grey eyes. His foot shot out and took one of the soldiers, holding Sheik captive, in the stomach. As the air whooshed from the man's lungs, The man dropped to the ground and swept the other soldier's, who was holding Sheik, legs out from under him.

Sheik found himself freed and the man grabbed him by his uninjured arm. The man didn't say a word and dragged Sheik into a nearby shadow just as Ganondorf started to turn around. The color drained from the clearing and everything in it and turned to dull shades of black, white and grey. Then Sheik felt his breath snatched from him as he felt himself carried away at great speed. The whirl wind trip lasted only brief moments and soon he found himself kneeling in another clearing and gulping in air.

He gave himself a shake and looked up at the stranger who'd rescued him. The man was looking at him with a frown and opened his mouth as if he were going to speak. He paused and then shook his head, "Get to your feet. I need to see to that cut on your arm."

"Who are you?"

The man sighed, "Doesn't matter. Now C'mon, I have guests that I should warn you about before you arrive."