Naturally, the Shadow had experienced many new things on his first day: murder, surprise, exasperation, aches and pains, bananas, thirst, and more murder immediately came to mind. At the end of it all, though, he thought that a hot meal and smooth ale might just be his favorite things in this new life.

Or, they would've been, had he not burned the roof of his mouth on the first fucking bite of (absolutely divine) salted pork. He quickly learned both the value of having a beverage to accompany a hot meal and that the simple act of blowing across the food before ingesting it cools it just enough to not scald the roof of one's mouth. He spent the rest of the simple but delicious meal— which also included roasted potatoes, sautéed peppers, and fresh-baked, buttered bread that practically melted in his mouth— trying to chew away from where an odd little blister had formed. After he'd finished eating, he found himself tonguing the spot thoughtlessly until the little bubble burst— releasing… saltwater?— and the loose skin peeled away, leaving it slightly raw underneath. It was oddly satisfying in a way he didn't really bother contemplating too deeply.

Ardin appeared next to him to clear away the dishes, yawning as he left and bidding the Shadow a good night while Anly served another mug of the strong, tasty beverage. He took it with him and went to sit by the fire where a small group had gathered, talking and laughing and drinking. The Shadow was pleased to note that, while the conversation paused when he drew near, this time no one looked twice, scowled, or fled when he sat down with them. They smiled, raised their mugs, and cheered. For him. Again.

It made that small, warm spark buried deep in his chest burn just a fraction of a degree hotter. He found the corner of his own mouth curling upward and staying there without effort.

The Shadow took a seat at the end of one of the benches and chatting resumed, most everyone— except the same woman that was taking notes before was still doing so, struggling to scribble furiously by the fluctuating firelight— taking turns giving their own firsthand, moment-by-moment account of the Battle of Lakeside Stable, as they were calling it with a sense of originality that was so well-hidden as to be nonexistent. He sipped the brew in his hand and listened, and after a while, he felt his cheeks begin to ache from the constant amused facial expressions he was only partly aware of making.

Clearly having rejected everyone else's reality and replaced it with his own, the old man, Shay, had a pipe in his hand, a small plume of smoke swirling up out of it as he told the story to anyone within earshot of an enormous shadow passing overhead in the early morning electrical storms the region was known for.

After another ale, when his body was pleasantly thrumming and most everyone had gone off to sleep, the Shadow went to stand and found his legs looser than he was used to, particularly in the knee area. He let out an involuntary, "Whoa," flinging his arm out for balance and grabbing onto the nearest thing, which happened to be an arm. It belonged to Kass, the large, blue Rito, who had been watching and playing quietly all evening while relating his own captivating tales of far-off places and peoples. The Shadow exchanged nods with him and— with exaggerated gentleness— smoothed the feathers his grip had ruffled, finally giving the wing a few small pats before making his way to the counter to return his empty mug and heading to the designated area to relieve himself in relative privacy, one of several annoying bodily functions he'd discovered early on in the day and had plagued him occasionally throughout. Hylia, people really just stopped what they were doing to take care of this several times every day? Their whole lives? It sounded exhaustingly annoying.

The Shadow had assumed— naively, perhaps— that, thanks to the warm meal and the ale, falling asleep would be as simple as lying down and closing his tired eyes, allowing his body to relax into the soft bed beneath him.

His brain, however, had other ideas.

First, it decided he needed to rehash the battle with the Hero, pointing out things he could've done better and things that had worked well. Next came the surreal meeting with the Goddesses themselves— not only Din, Nayru, and Farore, which was enough of a mindfuck to be going on with, but then there had also been Fi and the little Companion Fairy. He revisited walking away and Navi's arrival, followed by a speedy replay of lots of climbing. By the time he was killing the Hinox again, he was exasperated with his brain. He let out a quiet huff, rolled over, and punched his pillow.

Was this how it was going to be every night? What the hell? Why wouldn't his brain just shut up? Was it like this for everyone? Did falling asleep take practice? How did people ever get to sleep if they had to replay their entire day every night?

"Worry not, Shadow Link. Like many things, it will grow easier as time passes," came the unmistakable dry-echo mental voice of Fi.

What the fuck? Hadn't she disappeared? He'd forgotten, of course, that she was in his head and heard this.

"I am the Goddess Sword," she reminded him, as always, without inflection. "If it helps, you may think of me as a Companion, not dissimilar to the Fairy, Navi."

The Shadow sighed, fighting not to roll his eyes.

She cocked her odd, solid head at him slightly. "While the Sword of Evil's Bane rests, I am able to go between the watchful Sacred Realm and here. I may visit you in your dreams, but to here I am confined. I cannot 'constantly annoy' you, as you are thinking."

The Shadow looked around him. The two of them appeared to be sitting near the fire at the stable. The fire itself was blazing in a rainbow of colors: red, orange, blue, purple, yellow, and green. The trees surrounding them were blackish blobs against the menacing, swirling, inky-red sky where a full moon hung heavily, seeming to blaze crimson instead of silvery white. He furrowed his eyebrows; he distinctly remembered lying in a bed. He looked at Fi. "I'm asleep?"

"Yes."

"Oh." The Shadow thought, if he tried, he could feel the soft feather pillow caressing his cheek, the mattress cradling him from shoulder to hip supportive, just shy of firm. "Huh."

"Why do you refer to yourself as 'The Shadow'?" Her voice wasn't exactly curious, but it was close.

"As opposed to 'Shadow Link' or just 'Link'?" he asked. At her nod, he shrugged and said, "I don't know. Feels a little like it's not mine. I'm not him; I don't want to try to take his… life, or his… whatever. I don't know. I was born of shadows and malice. And Ganondorf just called me 'Shadow'." He shrugged. "It fits. For now, at least. I suppose I could choose whatever name I want, really. Could pick a new one every day, make a game of it."

"You told that boy to call you 'Shadow Link'."

He scowled. "He said 'Shadow' was a dog's name. I panicked."

She gazed steadily at him for a moment before saying, "Ganondorf Dragmire created you in the image of the Hero of Legend, the one destined to be called Link. The path you have begun to tread now lies in that same direction—"

"How many times do I have to say—"

"—regardless of your intentions." She paused for a moment. "You could have left tonight. Instead, you stayed and defeated the Hinox. Why?"

He glowered, not liking where this was headed. "I don't answer to you."

"Indeed, you do not," she agreed. "However, I would like to understand, and I should think you would want to know your own motivations, as well."

"Look, that big fucker would've leveled this whole place trying to get those horses." Suddenly, an image of the fearless young lad, Ardin, flickered to life next to the Shadow, by the strange fire in his dreamscape. The young boy's voice echoed like the memory it was when he said, Oh, wow! Your eyes are so cool! How d'you make them do that?! In the next instant, the child laughed loudly and without reservation from over near the treeline, not disturbing the ground beneath his feet as he spun and slashed with his wooden sword at foes which, here in this liminal space, carried the faint outlines of Bokoblins, Lizalfos, Chuchus, Keese, and even a Moblin.

Fi watched the dream-Ardin play, then turned and studied the Shadow. "Hmm. I see."

"What?"

"Do you know the story of Ganondorf?" she asked.

Wait, what? "Uh, well, most of it, I think?" The abrupt switch in topics had thrown him.

"Once every century, a male is born to the women of the Gerudo tribe." He didn't bother protesting that he already knew that; she was in his head and was presumably well aware. "By virtue of their sheer rarity, these men are crowned king upon their eighteenth birthday. Three hundred years ago, the last male Gerudo was born." The Shadow's brows raised to his hairline, then crunched together; he hadn't been aware of that tidbit. As Fi spoke, the scene she was describing formed before him in a series of nictitating pictures playing as if on a reel, just like when he'd thought of Ardin and the lad had appeared. He subconsciously leaned forward, rapt. "The woman who bore him left this mortal realm as violently as the babe entered it, and he was given to the twin witches, Koume and Kotake, to raise.

"As he grew, it became obvious that he was naturally talented in the ways of magic. And strong— immensely so, more than his mothers had imagined or could control. Being the only male, he was singled out and ostracized at school and in the community, so he learned to keep to the company of his small family.

"When he was twelve, a spell he was learning to perform went disastrously wrong, destroying their home. Koume and Kotake, whom he had idolized and loved dearly, both perished, leaving the boy devastated. He was sent to live with a new foster mother. And then another, and another, the ones that survived claiming him to be too much for them to handle." It was as fascinating listening to her speak of emotions without inflecting any in her own speech as it was learning these previously-unknown details that Ganondorf had deemed unnecessary for the Shadow to know. He mentally shrugged; in the context of his mission, it made no sense for him to be so informed. For the first time, he wondered how much of Hyrule's and Ganondorf's histories he didn't know.

"Please try not to think so loudly. It is distracting," she rebuked. He got the distinct impression of a glare in her unchanging, marbled features.

"Sorry." It was pretty easy to forget she could read his mind, let alone that this was actually a dream and all of it taking place in there.

"Indeed," she allowed. "Ganondorf grew wild and reckless, charming, brilliant, and cruel. And ever he sought to obtain even more power. He amassed an underground following of the criminals of Hyrule, thieves and murderers and ruffians all— a great many of them displaced Hylian men, but there were also several Gorons, a few Rito, a Zora or two— and called them his personal army.

"By age sixteen, he had grown broad in the shoulder, stood nearly seven feet tall, and had become known to his disciples as the King of Thieves, while on the surface, he'd studied hard and been a dedicated student as he was groomed to take over rule of Gerudo. He'd trained into an exceptional swordsman and strategist, and the most powerful sorcerer Hyrule had seen since the days of the Demon King, Demise. He had become convinced that he was the Imprisoned reborn and proceeded to persuade his followers of this belief.

"On the day he came of age and ascended to the throne, King Ganondorf showed his true colors, and his true might. He had publicly announced his intention to "clean up Gerudo" while promising his followers the chance to demonstrate their collective strength. He organized a compulsory rally in the town square for the eve of his coronation, advertising it as a public execution of Gerudo's worst.

"As a pivotal part of the plan that was years in the making, every member of the Royal Guard, a corps that is and has always been entirely female, had been replaced one-by-one with women from his personal army, legitimately conscripted, but loyal to him, not the crown or people. The original Guardswomen were reported to be transferred to an outpost with their families or retired, several disappearing with no trace or explanation at all, but those incidents were far enough between not to rouse suspicion. So when he announced the assembly to his followers, they agreed to allow the Royal Guard to publicly apprehend them in a fake, mass sting operation. He vowed that their weapons would be returned to them at the ceremony and that they would then be officially conscripted into the Gerudo Royal Guard, even the males.

"At the rally, he marched all his captive followers into the middle of the square and made a grand speech, elegantly written and charismatically delivered to expertly play all sides of the gathering and say absolutely nothing. As he spoke, his Guard moved among their unarmed brethren, matching them one-for-one and standing in formation. On his signal, the Guard took out their ceremonial scimitars and raised them in salute to their king. As one, the curved swords were turned upon their neighbors and former allies, thus both brutally obliterating the known underground in Gerudo and retaining it while the civilians cheered, none the wiser for having witnessed the coup.

"On that same day, the King of Thieves sent secret emissaries to the underground bosses across Hyrule, inviting them in no uncertain terms to join his network, instantly making it infinitely more vast and powerful. Soon, the Gerudo people lived in fear of their young king; beheadings were common for even the smallest infractions.

"The Goddesses, ever vigilant, punished him by sending cruel winds to scorch his home in the southwest of Hyrule while also withholding the cooling, balancing rains. What was once a warm paradise is now a barren desert."

He waited for a moment, but she seemed to be finished speaking. He looked carefully at her unchanging visage; she was the kind to not waste unnecessary words, which meant her story must tie into his reasons for destroying the Hinox somehow. But damned if he could see it. "Uhh… okay. I don't really see what it has to do with killing the Hinox."

"Beginnings are always relevant. Especially for those who listen carefully."

"Great." More cryptic bullshit. He'd been paying attention, but this was a dream, after all. Would he be able to remember everything when he woke long enough to really think it through? Goddess damn it. Why did magical beings seem incapable of making simple points? "Before, in the glen, the blue one said the Shadow killing the Hero 'had never happened before', and Ganondorf told me he wouldn't allow the Hero to thwart him 'this time'."

"Correct."

"But there's been a Shadow before me?"

"Several. Hyrule is locked in a never-ending cycle, doomed to repeat itself century after century as the Curse of Demise holds her in its grip." He nodded. He'd known about that from Ganondorf, and the song that Kass had been playing yesterday when he'd arrived at the stable had said something similar, but it hadn't occurred to him that he— or, another him?— would've been included in past cycles. "Previously, no Shadow Link has ever bested the Chosen Hero. No Ganondorf has lived three hundred years, either. Ganondorf Dragmire must be immensely strong, so it would logically follow that you would also be stronger, able to best the Hero this time," she said.

"I have so many more questions now."

"Patience, young one."


His eyes opened to wooden rafters, the room just beginning to brighten in the gathering predawn. The Shadow sat up and put his feet on the floor, head swimming a bit unpleasantly with the motion. He noticed it ached and pulsed, too, and his gut felt… sour. The rug under his bare feet was so soft, though, that he couldn't resist curling his toes into it for a few moments.

The stable was quiet, save for the susurrus of nighttime movements— soft snores from some of the nearby beds and the hushed scratching of the night clerk making notes in a ledger. He left his pack where it was by the bed but slid his sword, shield, and boots on before heading out to sit by the dying fire. His hat was already on his head; he'd noticed yesterday that it just seemed to effortlessly stay put. After a few steps, he realized he had to relieve himself again and rolled his eyes. How tedious.

When he'd finished, he grabbed a few more logs from the woodpile and added them to the embers before settling on a bench facing the fire and the dark, still water beyond. The full moon's silvery light reflected off the surface, shining high above the trees. He was reminded of the blood moon from his dream and the strange conversation with Fi. She had said that Ganondorf, the last Gerudo male and king, had been born three hundred years ago. But that was impossible, wasn't it? What was keeping him alive for so long, yet looking no older than middle-aged? Was it just because he was so powerful? He was a sorcerer, she'd said; was it a spell keeping him young for so long? Is he truly the reborn Demise and not just a Voe like any other, or does he just believe himself so? If it was a cycle, why had the Hero— and Zelda, the Living Goddess Hylia, whom the green Goddess had urged the Shadow to seek— been born so long after? What would happen if Ganondorf gained the Triforce of Power and there was no Hero?

What if he found and united the entire Triforce?

And, again, what the fuck did any of that have to do with the Shadow's reasons for killing the Hinox? What did it mean that the boy's image had appeared when he answered the question?

Beginnings are always relevant, Fi had said. Okay, well, the first thing she'd told him was that Ganondorf's biological mother had died giving birth to him. Then he'd been ostracized, but had loved and been loved by his first foster mothers, the twins, whom he had accidentally killed when he was twelve, setting him on the path to where he is now (wherever that may be). That seemed important, but he wasn't quite sure how.

Feeling unsettled, the Shadow watched the flames lick at and catch on the new logs he'd added, the fire growing steadily brighter and sending bursts of sparks floating into the air. His gaze followed some of them until they dissipated, then continued upward until it landed on the bright orb nestled high in a blanket of stars. He let his eyes unfocus, stomach rolling gently, staring at nothing and allowing his jumbled thoughts to settle some. After a while, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head.

From the top of the waterfall of Riola Spring rose an immense shape, long and narrow and bright, an electric slash of yellow and green across the night sky. It curved down, following the waterfall to the lake, and the Shadow felt his mouth drop open at the sheer size of what he realized was a dragon, so enormous that its body was already curving at the surface of the water before its tail had fully emerged at the top of the falls. Each of the creature's six legs clawed at the sky, pulling it along its journey under Floria Bridge and up Rassla Falls. It seemed lit with an inner glow, the air immediately around it disturbed by the electrical field generated within the dragon itself, raising the hair on the Shadow's arms as it passed near, balls of lightning leaping out from all along its length without any discernible pattern or rhythm.

"Oh, Hylia. It's magnificent." Navi's voice was hushed, awed and reverent next to his ear. He turned his head to find her sitting on his shoulder, leaning forward, attention rapt on the great beast. "Long have I wished to gaze upon the Spirit Dragons, Shadow Link."

He was surprised; he kept running across gaps in his knowledge. "There are more than one?"

"There are three," she replied, still quiet, as if afraid to disturb the vision before them. "This is Farosh, the Spirit of Lightning, servant and protector of the Spring of Courage since ancient times. The electricity that coats its body renders it dangerous to be too near, but it bears no ill will toward people; it is simply a Spirit. Dinraal, the Spirit of Fire, watches over the Eldin region and the Spring of Power. In the Lanayru region, Naydra, the Spirit of Ice, protects and serves the Spring of Wisdom. It is said that only those who have been blessed by the Goddess Hylia may look upon the Legendary Dragons."

They watched as Farosh climbed higher and higher, spiralling as it rose, then twisting downward once more and disappearing into Rassla Lake. The Shadow let out a sigh, hearing Navi's much smaller one echo in his ear, feeling much more settled than when he'd awoken. He thought of Shay talking about the great shadow and, realizing that the old Hylian wasn't so crazy, after all, let his mouth curl up slightly. A few early-rising birds began chirping their good mornings to each other; squirrels and other critters were just emerging from their nightly slumbers while the crickets and frogs settled in for theirs.

"Hey! Look!" The Shadow glanced at his companion again to find her now standing on his shoulder, pointing down at his right hand where it rested upon his thigh. He frowned. What the fuck?

There, on the gray-skinned back of his hand, was the faint outline of a Triforce, the tip pointing in toward the Shadow's body, the reverse triangle in the center shaded in slightly. He remembered a nearly-identical mark on Ganondorf's hand, but it had been pointing the other way. For the second time this morning, the Shadow's mouth fell open without his input.

"What the fuck?" he asked, incredulous.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but I'm sure it's because you defeated the Hinox—"

"Don't say it—"

"— and set yourself upon the path of the Hero."

"Damn it—"

"You found a Heart Container," she reminded him. "Only the Hero of Hyrule may do so."

The Shadow felt his shoulders droop. This fucking Hero thing just kept bombarding him; it was wearing him down, and this was only his second day. "You're right; I don't want to hear it."

"Would it be so bad, Shadow Link? To fulfill the legend and defeat the evil that threatens all of Hyrule, including you?"

"Just stop, okay?" he said, irritated. From inside the stable came distinct sounds of people beginning to stir, yawning and scratching and the soft din of morning.

"When you leave here, follow the road west and south to reach the Lake of the Horse God," she said before she winked back to wherever she stayed when not visible.

Just then, Ardin came stumbling sleepily out into the morning light, clutching something small in his hand and heading for the water pump near the back of the building. When he got there, he squeezed something from the tube in his left hand onto the pointer finger of his right. He capped and set aside the tube, then pumped a bit of water, dipping the coated finger under the stream before putting it into his mouth and moving it in and out, up and down. The Shadow watched, fascinated, as the boy scrubbed for a few minutes, then ran a little more water and dunked his face into it before turning his head the other direction and spitting out everything in his mouth. He pumped one more stream of water to rinse off his finger before making his way back to the stable entrance. He spotted the Shadow on his way and changed direction, stopping next to the bench the Shadow was seated on.

"Good morning, Shadow Link," the boy yawned. It was absolutely not adorable the way his hair stood straight up at the back of the top of his head.

"What's that?" The Shadow pointed to the tube in Ardin's hand.

"It's to clean your teeth, get rid of the nasty morning breath," he said, tone suggesting the boy's mind was still abed. "Uncle Anly makes it from the wild mint that grows across the way."

The Shadow ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, consciously feeling the surfaces of his teeth for the first time. They felt a bit fuzzy and gross, actually, now that he thought about it. "May I use some of yours?" he asked.

"Sure," Ardin answered, then patiently uncapped the tube and squeezed a small line across the pad of the Shadow's index finger. He brought his finger up near his nose, noting a pleasant, sharp scent. As the boy tripped away to begin his day, the Shadow made his way over to the water pump and followed what he'd seen Ardin do.

He was surprised by the coolness of the paste as he scrubbed at his teeth, gums, and tongue. After rinsing, his mouth felt fresh and clean, and he made note to purchase his own tube of toothpaste as he returned to the fireside.

He'd no sooner formed the thought than Anly himself emerged from the stable, yawning and stretching his arms up to the sky, bending and twisting his back to elicit some satisfying-sounding cracks. His eyes found the Shadow and his stern face brightened what the Shadow deemed considerably for their short acquaintance, meaning the crease between his brows smoothed out minutely and one corner of his mouth made a twitch as if to curl upward. He watched as the stablemaster performed the same teeth-cleaning ritual before ducking back into the stable. When he reemerged a moment later, he walked purposefully over to the fire.

"Did ya sleep well, lad?" the mountain of a man questioned, taking a seat on the bench to the left of the one the Shadow was occupying.

"Best night's sleep I've ever had," he answered honestly. "Ardin said you make that toothpaste stuff." At Anly's positive grunt, he asked, "Could I buy some from you?"

"Nah, but I'll give ya some, lad," he said. "Coffee be done in a minute."

"Okay. Thanks," the Shadow said, because it seemed like he should say something. He knew what coffee was, but for some reason, the knowledge in his head felt prickly and sharp, as though Ganondorf had had an aversion to the drink.

Well, fuck Ganondorf, anyway, he thought. The Shadow decided he wanted to try this coffee. Just then, he caught the smell of something wonderful coming from the kitchen, which was actually in a separate tent behind the stable proper. He assumed that helped to keep any smoke the cookstoves produced from bothering patrons. His stomach rolled again, reminding him it was unhappy with him for some reason. It didn't feel like hunger— well, not entirely.

Anly stood, his knees cracking loudly. "Ahh. This age thing," he said. He looked at the Shadow. "You take cream or sugar, son?"

It took the Shadow a moment to realize Anly'd meant in his coffee. "I… don't know? What does that do?" If the smell was the coffee, and it smelled wonderful as it was, did it need additions?

"Sweetens it." He turned and began walking toward the kitchen. "I'll bring some along and you can try 'em out," he threw over his shoulder. A few moments later, he emerged with two mugs of steaming beverage in one large hand and sugar and cream containers in the other.

He set down one of the mugs by his own seat and brought the other over to hand to the Shadow. The cream and sugar were placed on the bench next to him before Anly returned to his seat and picked up his own mug. He held it in his hands for a few moments, blowing across the top and staring into the fire absently before cautiously taking a slurping sip. "Aaahhh."

The Shadow mirrored Anly's actions, careful to blow a few extra times on it to try and cool it. He remembered burning the roof of his mouth on dinner last night and didn't wish a repeat. Up close, the smell was even better, wafting up into his nostrils to warm and calm him as he inhaled deeply before daring his first sip.

What the fuck? What crossed his tongue was the most complex combination of bitter, tart, nutty, and sharp flavors he'd never imagined. It tasted nothing like it smelled, and he felt his face scrunch up in displeasure. His stomach gurgled.

Anly let out a booming laugh. "Ah-ha-ha-ha! Yeah, not many people like this brew as is," he said. "Try some cream or sugar, or both," he suggested, motioning toward the sugar bowl and creamer next to the Shadow.

He decided to try sugar first. Lots of it. He added several cubes and used the spoon provided to stir them in, then tried another cautious sip. Much more tolerable, but still not living up to its smell, so he added a healthy dash of cream, as well, watching the liquid change color from deep brown to caramel, reminding him of the questions he had for Navi once they'd hit the road and she came out again. He tried the coffee once more.

Perfect. Exactly what he'd wanted it to taste like.

"We have a winner!" Anly chuckled softly. He seemed more awake than he had a few minutes ago. They sipped their drinks companionably for a few moments.

"You said 'this brew'," the Shadow said. "There are others?"

"Oh, sure," Anly nodded. "This is from the Hebra region. Hearty, robust. Over in Necluda, they brew a nice fruity variety, and if you can get your hands on the stuff the Koroks got in the forest, you'll probably lose some teeth, it's so sweet. Up in Eldin, they grow stuff that'll really put hair on your chest, I reckon." The Shadow furrowed his eyebrows and looked down— it occurred to him that he'd never actually seen himself naked— pulling the tunic away from his chest to see smooth, flat, hairless planes of muscle there. For some reason, this made Anly snort into his mug.

As the Shadow slowly drained his drink, he noticed the rolling in his stomach had lessened and the ache plaguing his head seemed to have mostly dissipated. He looked into the liquid and wondered what magic it held to have made him feel better so quickly.

A comfortable silence fell again, the sounds of the forest waking slowly filling the air as the sun began its ascent. After a bit, the Shadow felt something intangible in the air, as if Anly was preparing to say something he wasn't sure of the response to. The Shadow didn't have to wait long.

"Son, are you…" he trailed off, then visibly steeled himself and started again. "You're a different shade than you were yesterday; lighter. Your eyes, too."

The Shadow looked down at his arms, surprised to note that it seemed to be true. The grayscale of his visible body and clothing didn't run as dark as it had yesterday. His gaze again landed on the Triforce mysteriously tattooed onto the back of the hand not holding the coffee. Anly's eyes followed his.

"Oh-ho!" he said, his eyes widening almost comically for the usually-stoic man. "The Mark of the Hero!"

"Hey, no. No, no. I'm no Hero," the Shadow immediately protested, both hands coming up in defense, the coffeeless one open, palm out.

The big man stilled and eyed the Shadow thoughtfully for a few moments, drink cooling in his hand, seemingly forgotten. "I met him, you know," Anly said. At the Shadow's confused look, he went on. "The Hero. Link. He had a Mark, too. Quiet guy; dropped money on the counter a few nights ago for a bed and went to sleep. Used the public cookstove in the morning," he gestured to the fire and the large, curved metal slab suspended on chains from a tripod swung off to the side, "and then went off on his way."

He looked at the Shadow for a moment. "You know, you look just like him, except for the whole…" he gestured at the Shadow's eyes, then made a sweeping arm motion to include all of the Shadow. "Uh. Well. Gray thing. Red eyes." His voice grew serious.

"Ardin thinks you hung the moon, lad. He told me that you said a bunch of things, like that you killed the Hero, that he thought you had amnesia but you said you were just born yesterday." He paused. "You're incredibly strong; I've never seen anyone take down a Hinox like that." He didn't sound distrustful. "After yesterday, I sure do owe you a lot. Not just for saving the place and the horses, but…" He looked toward the stable, his voice dropping so that the Shadow practically had to lean forward to hear him speak.

"Cima wandered in here three years ago, just a skinny little thing who turned up in a bed one morning. Didn't speak for the first six months she was here; just picked up a broom that first day and started in ta sweepin', kept herself clean, ate regularly, whatever I made. Then one day, out of the blue, she told me her name and said she didn't want to talk about her past, but asked if she could have a job here. Been here ever since, silent as a wraith, mostly; won't let most people within a few paces of 'er. Great with animals. Does excellent work carin' for the livestock, and helpin' me cook, and keepin' the boy company.

"Ardin is my nephew. He was staying with me last year when my brother and his wife took a business trip to the Kara Kara Bazaar over in Gerudo. While they were there, the Yiga clan attacked, and we got word they were killed." He sighed. "The boy's resilient, but it's been tough on 'im. I'm doing my best, but I'm a bachelor and I've never been around kids much, so I don't really know what I'm doing." His voice shook a bit at the end and he paused again, obviously reining in his emotions. "But they mean the world to me, and if you hadn't been here, I might've lost them, too. So if you need anything, anything at all, you let me know. Even if it's just someone to talk to." He looked steadily at the Shadow for a moment. "Gets awful lonely on the road, I reckon." The Shadow met his eyes. "Anything you say to me goes no further, lad."

The Shadow let a beat pass, then another. He was still deciding whether to say anything at all when, "Everything Ardin said is true, except I don't have amnesia," leaped out of his mouth, which he immediately snapped shut.

He was rewarded with seeing Anly's face try to express astonishment while only moving minimal facial muscles. This resulted in his eyebrows hovering at his hairline and the lower part of his face expressing a general disenchantment with the world at large. "Ah. Uh, come again, son?" he tried.

"I am the Shadow of the Hero, Link, forged yesterday by Ganondorf to slay the Hero, and I fulfilled my mission a few hours before arriving here," he started. In for a green rupee, in for a red, he thought. If Anly's eyebrows climbed any higher, they'd be floating above his head. Once he'd said it out loud, the Shadow felt a weight in his chest that he hadn't known was there lighten slightly, so he went on. "And then the three Golden Goddesses showed up—"

"Oh-ho!"

"—and then the Master Sword disappeared, but Fi was there, calling herself the Goddess Sword—"

"Oh!"

"—and then they're all trying to tell me that they think I should be their new Hero, and I still can't seem to convince anyone that that's insane, and then they sicced this Companion Fairy on me— Ow!" He felt a small but painful pinch on his earlobe and immediately swatted at the invisible Sprite. "See? Little shit!" He ignored Anly's amused snort. "And it seems like the whole world wants me to do this goddess-damned Hero thing, and, I mean— look at me! I don't even look like a Hero."

"Well—" Anly started.

"Oh, come on. Not you, too." His shoulders sagged.

The large man let out a rumbling chuckle. "Don't really matter what you call yourself, lad."

The Shadow sighed into his nearly-empty mug before draining it. "Why's that?" He set the empty mug next to the cream and sugar, then went to fold his hands together, spotted the Triforce Mark, and sighed again.

Anly huffed out a laugh. "Nah, not your Mark; although, that's maybe part of it." He, too, finished his coffee and set it down. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together and resting his thick forearms on his even thicker thighs. "Nah, it's because of who's here." At the Shadow's puzzled look, he explained, "The Rito, Kass, is a traveling minstrel. He goes from stable to stable, playing his accordion and writing songs both about legends of old and current events." The Shadow's shoulders sagged. "And then there's Traysi, the lady who wouldn't stop writing all night." The Shadow looked up slowly, suddenly sure he wouldn't like what else was coming. Anly's grin grew wider than the Shadow'd ever seen, wide enough to show teeth. "Traysi puts out a little gossip rag to all the stables and towns called The Rumor Mill." The Shadow's chin hit his chest. He had seen a copy sitting on a table inside the stable yesterday and passed it by without looking at it. "Yup. It wouldn't surprise me at all to know they've already dubbed you the Hero of the Battle of Lakeside Stable, or something. Heroes may die, son, but legends… legends endure." He laughed again, then stood and did another long, morning stretch. He leaned down to pick up his empty mug, stopping about halfway to standing tall as if a thought had just occurred to him.

"Say, lad. What'll it take to get you to go up the mountain and take down that Hinox's mate, too?" At the Shadow's look, he added, "Not, like, as a Hero, or anything. Obviously, we're not under attack anymore, so there's not a lot of Heroin' to be done just now, I figure. But, eventually, it might wonder where its mate is and come wandering this way looking for 'im."

The Shadow thought for a few moments. "So, like a mercenary?" Now there's an idea. The Shadow stroked his beardless chin and tapped his fingers against his lips subconsciously.

"Sure, why not? Seems to be lots of monsters roaming around Hyrule these days, from what travelers say, and what happened here yesterday. Might be some good money to be had for someone strong enough to take the bastards out," he said, obviously warming to the idea. "We'll work out a price that's fair for both of us. If you don't want to be known as a Hero, perhaps the title of Soldier of Fortune suits you better. The end result is the same— ridding the good people of this land of the blight laid upon it— and as a bonus, you'll get paid handsomely." He came over and put his hand on the Shadow's shoulder, patting twice and nearly knocking the Shadow to the ground. "Think about it, son. I've got to go get breakfast started. Come on in when you're hungry; all that ale from last night's probably givin' your gut the rumblies, ain't it? Makin' your head pound some?" He chuckled softly at the Shadow's nod. "I'll get a good solid meal in you before you go see a god about a horse." He picked up the Shadow's empty mug and the cream and sugar and ambled toward the kitchen again.

The Shadow looked around the rather scenic area, taking in the uprooted and bent trees, the huge spot of thick, yellowish Hinox blood where it was slowly seeping into the soil. Shadow Link, monster killer. He warmed to the idea quickly; the more he thought about it, the more perfectly it seemed to fit.

A few minutes later, the old man, Shay, ambled out of the stable and stood in roughly the same spot as yesterday, looking up at the sky in the hope of seeing a dragon the Shadow now knew was Farosh. The Shadow recalled Shay saying he'd seen the beast's shadow, but never the thing itself, and the Shadow realized from what Navi'd told him— only those who have been blessed by the Goddess Hylia may look upon the Legendary Dragons— that the aged Hylian likely never would.

Over the next half hour or so, the stable slowly came awake. The horses whinnied and neighed, distant pots and pans could be heard banging in the kitchen, and most of the rest of the overnight guests made their sleepy way out to sit by the fire, slowly trying to process being alive.

Except, of course, for Ardin, who came bursting out of the kitchen just then, spotting the Shadow and racing over, kicking up dust as his feet skidded to a stop. "Hey, Shadow Link! Uncle Anly says to come eat, if you want, and he also said to not leave before you talk to him again because he has some things for you." And then he spun on his heel and raced back the way he'd come, gone in a matter of seconds. The Shadow took a moment to parse through the barrage of words the excitable youth had let loose.

He stood and stretched, feeling his hips and knees pop heartily, his spine crackling like lightning. He let out a satisfying yawn.

Ardin came tearing back out, heading for Shay. He stopped a few feet from the old man and walked at a normal pace the last steps. "Mister Shay, sir, Uncle Anly says to come in and get your breakfast."

"I didn't see the dragon's shadow this morning," he lamented sadly. "Overslept."

"Aww," Ardin said sincerely, patting the older man's arm and taking his hand to lead him into the stable. "I bet you'll see it tomorrow, Mister Shay," he volunteered.

The Shadow turned to head in and see about his own breakfast but the man from yesterday, who'd run from the Shadow's eyes, was standing there, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. Behind him, the Shadow saw Kass emerging from the stable, humming, coffee in hand and eyes bright, accordion nowhere to be seen as he stared out over the lake contemplatively.

The Shadow waited.

The man took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Ah. Hello. Name's Kampo. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for the way I acted yesterday. My mama always said not to judge people before you know them; you know, don't judge a book by its cover, and all that, and I went ahead and did it anyway. So I apologize for that, and I wanted to say thank you for stepping in and killing that Hinox. We're all mighty glad you were here." He held out his hand to the Shadow.

"Oh, uh, yeah," the Shadow floundered, slowly reaching out to shake the offered hand once before letting go. He, of course, had never heard any of those sayings. "Yeah. It was pretty good timing." Without the ale from last night coursing through his veins, he struggled with how to accept compliments. He really wasn't built for this, and he briefly wondered at the wisdom of asking Anly for some ale to go with his breakfast, but decided against it. He had a long walk ahead of him today, after all.

"Well, I wanted to thank you properly, so I'd like to give you something for your travels," Kampo said, pulling out a small, flat square device that had a lone button on it in the shape of a bomb. The Shadow's eyebrows lifted. "See, I used to be an adventurer like you, until I took an arrow to the knee a few years back. Spent several years in the Royal Hylian Guard, too, so now they let me train new recruits; I'm on my way back to the castle, actually, from Lurelin. The new batch'll be reportin' in in a few weeks. Anyway, it's dangerous to go alone, so take this. I don't have any use for it anymore, but it's saved my hide more than a time or two, I can tell you."

The Shadow took the little square, finding it surprisingly heavy. "What does it do?"

"Press the button."

The Shadow pressed the button with his left hand and suddenly a blue, glowing bomb appeared in the palm of his right. He noticed that, while it felt substantial in his hand, it was also weightless, and he could see right through it. "Uh—"

"Press the button again."

He did, and the bomb immediately disappeared. "Whoa."

"Exactly. Once you press the button, you have three seconds before it detonates. After it explodes, you have another three seconds until you can press it again. There's no limit to how many times you can use it, however. At least, not that I've seen, and I once got stuck in a horde of Electric Lizalfos and a damned Wizzrobe up in the mountains not far from here." He eyed the sword and shield on the Shadow's back, then the nearly-invisible Hinox bloodstain. "Then again, you might want to head on up to Akkala Ancient Tech Lab," he said. "They might be able to upgrade it for you." He met the Shadow's eyes. "Looks like you might have need of it."

"That's… fucking awesome," the Shadow said. "Thank you."

"No, Shadow Link," Kampo said. "We who were here are ever in your debt, sir. If there's ever anything I can do for you, you let me know. If you find yourself at Hyrule Castle and need a friendly face, ask for me." He nodded once, then turned and headed in to eat.

The Shadow turned the bomb device over in his hand and saw that there was a clip on the back to hook it onto his belt. He took a moment to do so, sliding it off to his shield side a ways so that he didn't accidentally press it when he sat, or something ignominious like that, then finally made his way inside for breakfast.

He'd no sooner sat down at a dining table than Anly appeared with a plate of eggs, bacon, buttered toast, cheese, and apple juice. The smell greeted his nose like an old friend and he inhaled deeply, reveling in it. His stomach gurgled loudly and he wasted no more time digging in. He tried a few bites of plain egg before adding a few dashes each of the salt and pepper sitting on the table. He took another bite and was pleased with the result. A taste of the cheese led to wondering if the eggs might also be improved by its addition, so he tore off a few small chunks and buried them in the fluffy tufts to melt for a minute while he tried the juice, which was both sweet and tart.

By the time he'd finished eating, he'd discovered that he could layer the bacon on top of the toast, then put the cheesy eggs atop that and get all the flavors in one bite. Breakfast shot to the top of his list of favorite things when everything was delicious and he'd finished without once scalding the inside of his mouth.

After he'd washed his hands, he returned to the bed he'd slept in and grabbed the rest of his things. He strapped the pack across his back and went back outside to find Anly before setting out on the road.

He didn't have far to search, as the man was waiting for him by the fire, holding a small tube of toothpaste in one hand and something made of wood and canvas in the other. He handed over the toothpaste, then grinned broadly and held out the contraption in his hand. It was about two arms' lengths wide at the front and one at the back, with handles to hold onto, and on the brown canvas was a stylized bird, reminiscent of the crossguard on his sword, in a light cream color.

"Here, lad. Take this paraglider with ya. It'll make gettin' 'round out there a lot easier," he said, then showed him a clever mechanism that would collapse the glider down so he could carry it easier.

"Thank you," the Shadow said, storing the tube in his pack and the glider on a hook attached to the back of it before he bid Anly goodbye.

"Safe travels, lad. Come on back here after you've seen Malanya and we'll talk about that other Hinox," he said, patting the Shadow on the shoulder and nearly pounding him into the ground like a stake, then turned and disappeared around the corner by the horses.

The Shadow adjusted his pack so it was comfortable and set off down the road to the west.


Away in their idyllic garden, the Goddess Farore groaned. "A mercenary!" she lamented. "That's not exactly…"

"If he gets there in the end, does it make a difference what his motivations are?" Nayru reasoned.

"Well..." Farore trailed off.

"An unconventional path to victory is still valid," Din tossed out.

"I suppose you're right," Farore acknowledged, though she didn't sound convinced.

"Of course we are, dear," Nayru soothed. She came closer and put a comforting hand on Farore's shoulder. "Fear not, sister. The Shadow has already proven himself worthy of the path we have set him upon. He performed heroically, albeit reluctantly; he defeated the monster and claimed the Hero's reward. The Mark has appeared." She poured three glasses of nectar wine and handed one to each of her sisters, taking one for herself.

"It's upside down," Farore pointed out.

"He's a Shadow. That it appeared at all is fantastic," Nayru maintained. She raised her glass. "To Shadow Link," she saluted. "May he have the wisdom to choose the correct path, and may good health sustain him."

"May he have the courage not to falter, and may fair winds ever blow for him," Farore toasted, raising her own glass to touch the rim to Nayru's with a soft clink.

"May he harness the power to defeat the evil threatening Hyrule, and may his armor be ever unbreakable," Din offered, touching the rim of her own glass to the other two. Then smirked. "And may he remain most entertaining for us to watch."

They drank, returning their attention to the observation of their Shadow Hero.


Author note: this is one of my favorite chapters so far. Let me know what you think!