'Wake up…come now, you've slept far too long…won't you please wake up for me?'
A rasping noise came from under the watery surface of the floor and two very red eyes blinked up at Veran. "You are not my master." Said a voice, familiar but with a distinct chill to it.
Veran lifted an eyebrow. "You wish to have your old master back? After the punishment you endured…? After your failure?" The eyes blinked sharply and disappeared much to the woman's disappointment. "I think you will find that I am a far better master…If you want proof--." She trailed off, examining the eerie place. The sky was a hazy turquoise, no creature flew through it, and no breeze graced the air. The floor (for the place was a room) resembled a mirror of liquid, and indeed, her feet were just barely immersed in a cool sort of feeling. However, the one thing that made it odd was a tiny island, just off the center of the room, which bore nothing but a scraggly dead tree. It was beside that tree that the eyes appeared again.
"What is your proof?" The voice asked, its question echoing into the distance.
A shadow grew visible around the crimson eyes, and slowly the sorceress could see the form of a young Hylian, purely shadow, but completely three-dimensional. She slid across the room towards the creature, keeping just enough distance to prevent him from either shying away or attacking. "I'll show you," She said, snapping her fingers. A gray vapor curled up around the creature, seeming to seep into it slowly. Within moments, it had gone completely gray and just as quickly the gray left and something far better remained. "There is more to be offered, this is only the beginning…but imagine it, my friend," Veran said, coming around behind him. "You will be free to exact your revenge, if only you join me…" The person knelt down beside the watery floor, looking intently at his reflection. The silvery-white hair that hung around his face, the pale skin that had replaced mere shadow, tattoos on his jawbone and one across the lids of his left eye, he'd never had his own identity before. The adolescent flexed one gauntlet-covered hand and spoke again. "I will help you," he said icily. "But you won't be my master…no one will."

---

Dark horizons fill my view,
Wet scarlet stains the ground,
But finally, darling, I see you,
In that, my hope abounds.

You stand upon the open plane,
Slim hands upon pale lips,
The horror that you feel inside,
The heart within that rips.

My darling don't you see?
I fought my way to you,
Please darling turn your eyes from me,
Ere I spy their dew.

You ran away as rain fell down,
It washed our love away.
I fell upon my knees,
All I could do is pray.
May someone blessed find you,
His arms as strong as mine,
But a love that burns as deep in him, you're likely not to find.

The brush he held dropped to the ground and Link flopped backwards on the grass, careful of his neck. If anything the extra time off was helping his writing skills to flourish, but how was that to help when it came time to draw a sword again? He could write all he wanted to, and imagine as much as he pleased, but it wouldn't make the flow of his blade any more efficient. He flexed his writing hand and corked his inkwell before peeling himself from the grassy meadow where Epona grazed. The warm breeze was comfortable, and invited him to stay longer, but he didn't lavish the thought of sticking around ranch property long. Malon would make him stay for dinner, which meant Talon would tell him stories of the good old days while Ingo grumbled about how much better things were back then.
He was just about to whistle for Epona when Link heard a rustling sound behind him.
"Link," Malon gasped as he turned to face her. "This---this is yours?" she asked, eyes wide.
As if every girl in Hyrule wasn't already tripping over their own feet to get to him, let's add a sensitive side. Link groaned inwardly and forced a small smile. "Uh-huh, yeah...it's mine." The red head positively beamed. "That's---it's---that's amazing, Link! I never knew, I mean...wow."
"Um, thank you?" He tried to pry the girl's fingers from his arm, but it was no use, for such a small person she had quite a grip.
"You'll be staying for dinner, won't you?" she asked hopefully. Link noticed her hands getting tighter on his arm, forget quite a grip, she had a vice-grip.
"Actually, I--"
"Lovely!" Malon shouted, "I'll start supper strait away!" she rushed off leaving Link to stare at his arm. Looking around a second later, he realized his poem was gone.

---

"Hit HARDER!"
The serpentine blade of Dark Link's sword flew at Veran's side, a barrier springing up to meet it. The boy moved with remarkable intensity, as if every movement he made had a meaning behind it. Regardless of that, however, Veran felt an absence of power in his swordplay. He drew his sword back again and sent it forward to meet her stomach, but again, the barrier was the only thing it hit. The sorceress raised her hand and sent forth five green orbs. Her attacker stopped mid-swing to see that the glowing orbs were getting bigger as they floated towards him, but another thing he saw was the growing smirk on Veran's aqua face.
Quickly, he broadened his focus and strafed backwards, noosing his bow and drawing an arrow as quickly and efficiently as his body would allow. The second he'd shot his first arrow, one of the orbs hurled into him. It constricted his entire body, pressing the breath from his lungs. "What're you trying to do?" he choked as thick, translucent-green ooze spread towards his neck. Veran smiled foully "You're out of practice," she hissed in delight "I just want to make sure that you're prepared for anything."
Dark Link snarled, anger building. He was being toyed with, she thought she was stronger than he was! His snarl turned into a wicked grin, she'd made a dreadful mistake. He took as deep a breath as he could and quite suddenly burst into a black vapor. The mist escaped Veran's trap with ease, and now that he knew the sorceress wouldn't play fair, he had no intention of doing so either. His strange form curled across the room, stopping in front of Veran and encircling her slowly, what could she do to stop a mist, after all? It began reforming into several copies of the dark boy, and as each one solidified he brought out a different weapon. One held a mace with an over-long chain; another held a bomb, fuse lit and burning rapidly; yet another had a crossbow at the ready, perfectly aimed at the woman's head. The list went on and on, all ten copies sneering at their intended target. Veran panicked. It was one thing to use the small bit of magic she had earlier, it was completely different to try and shield herself from ten attackers at once.
Somewhere nearby, Dark Link smiled to himself, the power of suggestion was such an effective weapon... The ten copies of himself that stood below him were clearly armed, and naturally Veran assumed that they would attack simultaneously; a sad mistake. He gave the mental commands for his troop to attack and the clones sprang at once. Veran sent the four remaining orbs to defend herself, but just as she did, the ten attackers burst apart and the air whistled behind her. When she turned it was to find the real Dark Link's blade poised for her heart. "You're going to kill me, my little shadow?" she asked, her voice ringing with forced calm. He gave her a wry smile "Allow me to clear up a few details. I don't belong to you, and I made that clear from the start, you'll do well to remember that. And I have a name," his blade was dangerously close to her now "It's Marid, and that's exactly what you'll call me, savvy?" He whipped the blade around, narrowly missing her arm, and sheathed it at his back. Veran snarled, returning to her cold composure. "Savvy."

---

"An' so I told 'im, I says, when I was a kid we didn't have any er these fancy bows and such; I says, we used good ol' slingshots. Never missed neither!" Malon began plucking up plates and bowls from the feast she'd prepared and Link cast her a pleading look. "Things were simple back then," Ingo grunted, taking a swig from his ale. "Never got hounded abou' -hic- deadlines, or any o' that nonsense." The pink-nosed man started at the sound of shattering china, and Link darted up from the table to help Malon who gave him a small wink when he took the dishes from her. "Clumsy me," she said breezily.
"Very nice of you," The boy muttered, "Now why couldn't you've been 'clumsy' two hours ago?"
"Do you want to go talk to daddy again?" Malon asked, waggling a finger.
Link cleared his throat "Why don't I wash these up for you? Go rest your feet!"
The redhead grinned at him and gave him a peck on the cheek, "How thoughtful! I think I will." She said leaving a very flustered Link frowning after her.