As I set out into Ordon Village, I felt an uncomfortable aching in my side. The wound was healing well, but it probably needed another week to fully heal.

A week that I didn't have.

The major event was happening in six days, and I still had to talk to Rusl, convince him to train me, and then actually learn something in that span of time. I could only assume that whatever happened six days from then would be the coming of Twilight.

All the more reason to learn as much as I could and maybe set a few pieces of the board in motion before what happened to Link in the game happens to me in reality.

Or insanity, whichever sounds cooler.

The wound was healthy, if that makes any sense. It wasn't infected or torn, just very achy from climbing down those damn ladders. Due to the nature of my bandages and such, I could barely lift my arm up to put on a shirt, but thankfully Mayor Bo had a spare (oversized) tunic for me that I could just drop over my head. It was the same as his; white, no sleeves, down to my knees. I felt like a damn fool for wearing a dress but it was better than topless with bandages, although that was more badass.

More giggles followed me as I stepped down the ramp leading from Mayor Bo's house to a small grassy lawn. Just ahead of that was a dirt road that went to the left and uphill, most likely to the ranch, and to the right and over a stream of water to an exit, probably to the woods.

Overall, Ordon Village was exactly the way it looked before. Across the dirt trail from Mayor Bo's house was Rusl and Uli's house, since I could see a familiar figure standing at the doorway next to his pregnant wife. Down the trail and to the right was Talo and Malo's house, a blue-roofed building along the stream and on the edge of a very tempting lake, a waterwheel spinning lazily along the side. On the other side of the stream and near the forest gate was a pink-roofed house, which was both Beth's home and the local shop if I recalled correctly.

Between Rusl's and Beth's house was a twenty-something-foot tree. Hidden within its branches was a nest of what I assume to be hawks, since the mother (or father, I was never good at Zoology) seemed hawk-like and was leaning over three chicks, most likely feeding them.

I paused when I noticed how remarkable my eyesight was now. I was nearsighted… or farsighted, I always get those two confused. The point is I had trouble seeing things at a distance, but that hawk and his or her babies were as clear as if they were in front of me. I noticed some blurriness at their borders, so I figured that I couldn't see perfectly, though it was a definite improvement.

As Mayor Bo and I walked along the path toward the forest gate, I heard screeching coming from the nest. I looked up and saw a small stone fly past the hawk nest, disturbing the family and rattling the flimsy twigs and leaves behind it. I turned to where I thought the rock came from and found a scruffy-looking lad standing on a tall rock near the shop.

He looked to be about eight years old, with long brown hair wrapped in a lopsided red headband, a white sleeveless shirt, grey waistband tied with an orange sash, and a blue kilt-dress thing emblazoned with the image of an acorn. Jumping up and down triumphantly, he pointed at the nest, and when I looked back, I saw that one of the chicks was teetering on the edge in panic at the disturbance.

Before the little brat could chuck another rock, I darted forward, ignoring the burn in my side as I leapt over the small bridge connecting the two lanes. The chick was falling freely now, so I had around five to seven seconds to catch it safely or else that hawk parent was going to be very angry with the youth.

I held my arms out, palm up and fingers cupped, and tucked myself into a roll as the chick tumbled into my hands. I willed my body to continue rolling in order to keep the chick's momentum going until it slowed to a stop.

Once I settled down, I examined the chick. It was such a pathetically adorable thing, with beady eyes and a beak that seemed out of place with its poofy feathers, too short to allow flight and too long to be called fur. Thankfully, other than hungry and scared out of its mind, the chick looked no worse for wear.

I had a soft spot for tiny adorable things, so I gently stroked its head and marveled at how soft the feathers were. It chirped and flapped its 'wings' in excitement and looked up at the tree.

I followed its gaze and saw that there was a cropping of vines along the tree's bark, but that climb would take two hands, and I was busy holding the baby hawk.

I guessed that I could carry the chick and climb up at the same time if I was slow and steady about it. I wasn't about to let an innocent little thing like this suffer because I had a boo-boo.

Keeping the chick tucked in my left hand and close to my chest, I grabbed hold of the vines and lifted myself up, grunting at the effort.

Sure, I wasn't a fat guy by most standards, but that was still 225 pounds I had to lift up with only one arm. Luckily, the tree was not perfectly round and had some notches along its surface that I could use as footholds.

With the chick safely held to my chest, I inched my way up the tree, grabbing various vines and stepping in convenient notches along the way. By the time I was halfway up, my side was burning and stinging so badly that I nearly let go of the tree.

"Oi! What are you doing in that tree?" cried a young voice.

I figured it was the rock-thrower, so I bit back, "Fixing your mess!"

I heard a huff and a deeper voice calling up to me.

"Zach, take it easy! Your wound's reopened!"

Thank you, Mayor Bo, for telling me that I'm dying while I'm climbing a tree.

"I'll be right down!" I called down, wishing I could voice my inner thoughts. "I'm just taking this chick back to its nest."

Twittering nervously, the chick in question dug its tiny but adorable talons into my hand. It felt like a prickling sensation, but I had to ignore it as I finally reached the branch where its nest sat.

That was when I noticed another problem: I was using one arm to keep myself steady in the tree, but my other arm was busy holding the chick to my chest. The nest was too far for me to reach with my left hand but I couldn't let go with my right hand. With a loud groan, I swung my legs up and hooked them over a lower branch, allowing me to sit down and reposition myself.

I pulled up my feet and pressed against the branch, using my right hand to balance along the bark. Once I was fairly sure I was stable, I switched the chick to my right hand and reached up to the nest. With a happy chirp, it hopped from my palm to the safety of its home, where its two siblings were tweeting in hysterics. The parent was nowhere to be seen, but I didn't think I wanted to hang around for it to come back, so I began my descent toward solid ground.

The pain in my side was excruciating by then, as if a white-hot slab of metal was being pressed into my flesh. I looked down (Bad idea!) to examine my wound and saw that my tunic was stained red along my left side.

Unfortunately, I also saw how high up I was, and clung to the tree in terror.

I heard some chattering below me and figured the whole village was watching me make a fool of myself. Thank goodness I was wearing pants.

"What's the matter?" a young but unfamiliar voice called up to me. "Afraid of heights?"

"Fear of heights is irrational!" I retorted, then mumbled, "Fear of falling, on the other hand, is prudent and evolutionary…"

Ignoring my pain and fear, I lowered myself down and sat on the branch, but my mind went blank when I heard a loud crack next to me.

The branch was breaking under my weight and I wasn't holding on to anything.

"This is gonna suck…" I grumbled as the branch snapped free, with me on top.

Yet another boring Monday morning for me. Huzzah. The figure under the sheets lifted up from her bed, but its magic was too strong and drew her back down on the other end, face buried in fiery hair.

"Curse you, O Bed of Unending Comfort…" she grumbled to the piece of furniture.

She lay there for what felt like a while, since the pounding on the door seemed very agitated.

"Midna, wake up! Today is the day your parents decide on the heir to the throne!" the voice cried out.

She waved an arm carelessly at the door and called back, "I'll be there, Shedo! I'm getting dressed right now!" Midna waited for her servant's footsteps to fade away before dragging herself out of bed. She took three steps before she froze at Shedo's words.

Today is the day your parents decide on the heir to the throne!

Heir to the throne…

Heir… Throne...

Normally, she would have gotten dressed slowly and lazily in a casual shirt and skirt, put on makeup the same way, schlepped over to the throne room, and daydreamed over fun things to do around the Twilight Realm.

This was not one of those days. Midna dashed over to her wardrobe and yanked out the finest shadow silk shirt and matching left legging, formal sarong and cloak, practically tore off her sleepwear, dressed herself, dabbled on her best makeup, swiped the ceremonial crown from the dresser, and ran out of there faster than one can say "Fused Shadows."

The Twilight Princess darted through the halls of the Palace of Twilight, saying hello to people she saw along the way. It looked to be around ten in the morning, which meant she was already an hour late to the meeting. Midna may have been a carefree bachelorette living the good life as Princess of Twilight, but when it came to the very important stuff, nothing else mattered.

Not even Zant, who was standing just inside the door leading to the throne room.

Especially not Zant, that creepy Twili who everyone knew wanted the throne for his own uses.

Midna was not the most responsible political figure in the kingdom, but she at least always kept her people's interests ahead of her own. She never did anything without first thinking about how the people could be affected.

Zant, on the other hand, treated pretty much everyone like they were dirt beneath his ridiculous shoes. He was greedy, selfish, and petty. He looked at the throne like Midna would a pair of new shoes.

Or a piece of meat, considering the way his eyes roamed over her. She shuddered at the look in his eyes.

Lust for her body, which Midna repeatedly told him was on reserve for her future husband, the King of Twilight.

"Hello, Princess," he said with a disgraceful bow. His voice felt like ice on the back of Midna's neck. "I hope you slept well."

"I did, thanks," She said, making no effort to hide her dislike of the way he continued to stare at her legs. "If you'll excuse me, I'm late for a meeting."

He chuckled that hideously deformed chuckle that always sent shivers up her skin and said, "Yes, I heard the King and Queen finally decided on the next ruler."

He cupped the Twilight Princess' chin, and it was all she could do not to spit in his discolored grey face and run into the throne room. "Don't get your hopes up, Princess. After the years of faithful service, they have no choice but to acknowledge me as their new ruler."

Pheh, faithful my Shadow!

"Well, I'm sure they'll have to also acknowledge the incident last week when you smacked aside Burak because she was running a little late."

"She deserved it!" he bellowed, his normally orange eyes taking on a blood red tone. "I am a very busy man and I needed that cloak for the ball!"

"She was with child!" Midna cried back, standing up to him even though he was nearly a foot taller than she. "Maybe she was late because a contraction hit her and she could barely move!"

"A poor excuse for a servant! Her duty is to serve the royalty, not some child who isn't even alive! Perhaps if she were more responsible—"

That was it. Midna's hand swept across his face before either could register the action. Burak was one of her closest friends since childhood, even with the royalty gap. She married recently and Midna was probably the happiest person there at the wedding, besides Burak herself. She was seven months pregnant but still insisted on continuing with her duties, until Zant smacked her aside when she failed to do what he asked.

Sure, she was late and that was bad, but she was with child! Midna asked a few favors of her now and then but she never once blamed her for taking longer than Midna liked. She was the child's godmother, after all. She could never blame the child for disrupting Burak's duties, since she had every right to take a maternity leave but felt her duty to the Throne was greater.

The Twilight Princess never liked Zant to begin with, but that day was when she realized she hated the excuse of a man. The way he smacked Burak caused complications with the child, who was later found out to be a girl, and she died.

Burak had been in the healing chambers all week, but next to nothing can heal a broken heart. Midna visited her every day for as long as she could, offering her support and sympathy.

Zant never paid that day any thought, which just made Midna even angrier with him.

"You will never have that throne, even if you kill me and everyone else in this realm!" Midna screamed at him, not caring that there were nearly twenty pairs of eyes staring at them.

Ignoring his nursing the slap mark, she stomped into the throne room and stood in her designated spot just below and to the right of the throne, crossing her arms to keep from lashing out further.

Midna's father, King Naito was sitting on the throne, his fiery red hair matted beneath the crown, heavy black and gold robes draped over him and down the edges of the royal seat, the regal figure everyone knew he was.

Queen Yoake, Midna's mother, stood beside him, her pale orange, almost white hair hung beautifully in buns and braids, with her black clothing clinging gracefully to her figure and down past her ankles.

The King and Queen said nothing at their daughter's little tantrum, but they did watch Zant and Midna with wary eyes. It was no secret how much Midna disliked the filth, but she had a habit of forgetting that she was in competition with him for the crown. She could not afford to lose her cool and risk letting him win, especially since she was at a disadvantage; she needed to marry so that the husband could gain the throne. Midna was merely a doorway to power for other men.

Zant fidgeted with his maroon hood and stepped into the hall, his black cloak billowing in a nonexistent breeze. He walked confidently up and stopped at his designated spot across from his competition.

Just looking at him sent Midna's hair into gentle but furious convulsions, but she calmed down when her father cleared his throat. She glanced up at him and recognized the look on his face. In the throne room, he was not Naito, her father.

He was Naito, King and Ruler of the Twilight Realm.

"I am sure you know why I have called for this meeting." He was definitely more serious than ever, as he should be. The fate of the entire realm was about to be decided.

Zant straightened up and Midna fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. He was doubtlessly going to black-nose his way to the throne.

"As your King, I am charged with the protection and stability of this realm and all of its inhabitants. I have ruled this realm since my father, Former King Kage, passed the throne to me twenty years ago. We have enjoyed over two hundred millennia of peace in our Twilight Realm, and now comes the time when I must decide who will next hold that peace."

The Twilight Princess stood straighter and held her arms at her sides, gazing into the King's commanding orange eyes. He beckoned her forward, and as she kneeled before him, she could not help but notice the look of pride and admiration in his eyes.

Midna kept her lips in a straight line as he said, "Midna, Princess of Twilight, and my daughter these wonderful nineteen years. Should you be granted the throne, will you continue to uphold the laws set by our forefathers?"

She looked directly into his eyes and said, "I will." She meant it too. She saw how happy the citizens were and had no desire to end that happiness.

"Should you be granted the throne," King Naito continued, "will you use the powers granted to you for the good of our people and not for your own desires?"

"I will." Midna had no reason to abuse her power, and she was already very good friends with the majority of the population.

"Should you be granted the throne, will you seek war with the Light Realm? Will you seek their subjugation or destruction?"

That question caught her off guard. The Light Realm was where their ancestors waged their war with the Goddesses all those years ago. Midna was comfortable in this realm, since she grew up in it, and held no attachments to the Light Realm; especially since that time she snuck through the Mirror and was nearly incinerated on contact with the afternoon sunlight.

The Realm of Light has not done anything particularly harmful to them, except for the occasional criminal they sent for the Twilians to deal with. Midna admitted to herself that she hated how they just threw trash away and expected the Twilight Realm to be okay with that.

But did she want to wage war? Did she want to bring horror and violence down upon her people? Did she want to make the Light Dwellers pay for what happened to her ancestors?

"I will not," Midna answered finally. "Our ancestors earned their punishment through bloodshed and anarchy, and even though we continue to live in the Twilight Realm, we have made it our home. I have no desire or reason to interact with the Light Realm, and I refuse to disturb the happiness we have now."

King Naito drew in a deep breath, his face unreadable, but his eyes betrayed the pride at the answer. He nodded once and gestured to Midna's spot, so she returned to it. On the way, she caught the glances of the counselors and advisors in the throne room with them. On all of their faces, even the ever-disapproving Yugata, was admiration at the declaration to maintain peace in their realm.

As Midna gracefully spun around to face the throne, Zant was already kneeling down, his eyes burning intensely at her.

She flashed a smile at him and winked. Sorry if I said the right answer, she thought smugly at him.

"Zant," King Naito began, "Royal Vizier to the Crown, and trusted advisor these past ten years. Should you be granted the throne, will you continue to uphold the laws set by our forefathers?"

"I will," he answered, but too quickly. The bastard was just copying her answers! She could see the truth in his eyes!

"Should you be granted the throne, will you use the powers granted to you for the good of our people and not for your own desires?"

"I will." Another lie.

"Should you be granted the throne, will you seek war with the Light Realm? Will you seek their subjugation or destruction?"

"I will." His answer was too quick but the pause afterward was too long. "Not!" he stammered out.

Midna tried so hard to hide a smirk but that was just too priceless. Even if no one could see his face, that answer alone told her father everything he needed to know.

"I have made my decision." Or not. The tone in his voice chilled Midna's blood.

Zant hurriedly returned to his spot, the King rose from his throne, and all bowed to him. Midna grew up with her father, but the way he held himself was definitely intimidating to her.

His back was straight, his crown was even, and his chin was high. Queen Yoake stood beside him, her maternal gentility masked behind a face of royalty and sternness. They both floated down the staircase and landed squarely between Zant and Midna.

"Zant," Queen Yoake said as she faced him. "You have a sharp wit and almost ruthless devotion to uphold our laws," to Midna's disgust, he smirked, "and your record for finding criminals is near flawless. You have always treated King Naito and me with the proper respect." To your faces, at least. "You rose through the ranks quickly and efficiently, the sign of a great soldier and you carry with the presence of one as well."

The Twilight Princess fought down the urge to scoff at his 'credentials'. She wanted so badly to slap that stupid grin off his face, but she did nothing when her father turned to her.

"Midna, you are disrespectful towards your elders, you are irresponsible to the point of sneaking into the Light Realm," It was one time and I nearly died! "And you are late for every other meeting I call, even this one. You feel it fit for royalty such as you to wander the streets, interacting with the citizens as though they were family. You never use the rights and privileges granted to you such that you feel you can do anything yourself if you wanted to."

Midna felt hurt at how Zant was being praised and she was being lectured, and her eyes stung as she realized that Zant, the arrogant prick, was going to ascend to the throne and not her.

Her father surprised her with his kind and loving smile, the one that he always gave her when she was about to be given something spectacular.

"That is why Queen Yoake and I have decided to grant the throne," Midna held her breath and saw Zant nearly drool with excitement. King Naito lifted one arm in the air, finger extended, and all was quiet. He lowered his arm and pointed directly at Midna.

His smile nearly killed her as he said, "To you."

Everything slowed down to a crawl as I fell. It was surreal, seeing my blood float beside me as we both crashed down to earth.

So this is what I get for being a Good Samaritan.

I crossed my arms, but I definitely noticed how my own actions were normal while everything else was still slow as hell. It was as if I was floating slowly toward the ground instead of dropping like a rock like I should have.

I felt a buzzing somewhere behind me, some distant nagging sensation at the back of my mind that beckoned to me.

"Roll…"

I blinked and looked around as I heard a voice in the back of my mind. It sounded feminine but mechanical at the same time.

"Kick… Roll…"

"What?" I asked aloud, though I have no idea why. The voice seemed to be coming from over the edge of the forest, but sounded like it was right next to me.

"Kick from the tree… Roll to safety…"

"Who are you?"

"Kick from the tree, roll to safety…"

I saw a faint purple glow from behind the trees and figured that that was the source of the voice.

I wanted answers from this voice, but I wanted to land safely even more, so I twisted my body in the air and coiled up against the bark of the tree.

Time resumed its march as I kicked myself from the tree and fell quickly to the ground. Some natural instinct kicked in inside me, as I felt myself tuck into a ball and grab the grass before it could smash me. I grinded against the ground and rolled along the surface until my legs flailed out to halt my momentum. I stopped just short of Mayor Bo, who looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

While I landed safely, it was not perfect, as I felt a bruise developing on my back where I struck the ground. My wound was getting a little itchy as well, not to mention how pale my hand looked when I pressed it against my aching head.

No good deed goes unpunished, I thought as Mayor Bo lifted me up and ran through the gate and into the forest. I looked up at the top of the trees, but the faint purple glow was long gone by then.