So wide was the ceiling of leaves of the Great Deku Tree, the Kokiris' ancient guardian spirit, that it blocked out the sky.
For years, Link had first thought that the sky was green, not blue.
The branches that sprouted from its trunk were large enough to be mature trees themselves, twisting and twining upwards to create a crown of foliage. The guardian of the forest had been a living, breathing figure. A father to all the children he watched over.
Now he was still and fragile as the deadwood littering his forest floor.
Link's dream played in reverse.
First the Great Deku Tree was there, but gone. Then he spoke in a heavy, tired voice of Link's destiny and that he must reach Hyrule Castle in order to stop the evil desert man, the one who had cursed Link's beloved guardian.
Then Link was in a dark, dry place. The living flesh of the tree around him was brittle, unhealthy. The sticky-dampness of cobwebs caught at his clothes. An enormous shadow scuttled in the din, swiveling to fix her unblinking green eye on Link.
The dream blurred and faded. It reappeared with a flash, taking him back through the battle with Gohma, the monstrous spider whose infestation had killed his guardian.
Images of his close calls with Gohma whizzed by, ending with the fatal shot to her glowing green eye with Link's slingshot.
Gohma's eye turned crimson and she let out a screech of pain. The eye transformed into an orb of dark magic, crackling in the palm of a nightmarish figure.
The dream ended, as always with the agony of being struck by the dark energy, and the man's laughter echoing in Link's head.
He woke clammy and shivering on the storehouse floor. The state of his blanket told him he'd thrashed about in his sleep. He swept aside the images that threatened to leak into wakefulness and gently prodded Navi awake.
The thought of breakfast made his stomach twist, so Link gathered his things and headed back to the Temple of Time. The way was familiar now.
Zelda's fair head was easy to spot. She huddled on the steps with her knees against her chest, waiting for him.
With a cheerful smile, she rose at Link's approach. "I was worried you'd be late again," she giggled. "Sleepyhead."
Link blushed and scratched behind his ear. "I don't like mornings," he mumbled.
Zelda tsked in perfect imitation of a mother scolding her child. "That won't do if you want to stay ahead of Ganondorf."
"Does he only plot his evildoings in the morning?" Link teased.
They both laughed, but it quickly subsided. Both knew the seriousness of their mission, but somehow amusement always found its way into their conversations. Link also found the world's impending doom easier to handle if he could make jokes about it once in a while.
"We should get going," she said, all business again.
Link and Zelda had met here every morning for the past three days. They'd then snuck into the castle's vast library to research the Spiritual Stones. Link had crammed so much Hyrulean history into his brain he worried it would burst.
"Wait," Link said. "Will you tell me more about this temple?"
Zelda looked up at the faded stone sentinel. "I don't know much about it," she confessed.
"Who built it?"
The question made her smile at his naivete. "Lots of people worked together to build it. But the person who decided what it would look like was a man named Rauru. He was one of the Ancient Sages."
"Sages?" Link said, puzzled.
"People who possess great strength of character and wisdom," she explained. "They helped guide Hyrule towards peace and prosperity. A legend states that there were six sages in the past age, and that they built special temples like these all over the world."
"Your world has a lot of legends," he commented.
She laughed. "I suppose we do."
Zelda had already told him the story of the world's Creation, a version which differed slightly from the one told to the Kokiri. She'd gone over the many stories about the mystical Triforce and its powers.
Link couldn't really picture a godly relic that was supposed to grant the one who possessed it unlimited power and any wish they desired. He thought it strange that three golden triangles would simply be floating somewhere in Hyrule, waiting to be caught.
"That's funny." Zelda had walked up to the formidable doors of the temple. "It's sealed."
"So we can't get in? That's too bad." Link scowled. He'd been curious to explore the inside.
Zelda shrugged. "We have to focus on the Spiritual Stones, not the temples. The stones are said to be the keys to the Sacred Realm. If we find them, we can find the doorway, unlock it, and protect the Triforce from Ganondorf."
Link pulled the Kokiri's emerald from his pocket and held it in his palm. "Ganondorf killed my guardian just for this. So he would have a way into the Sacred Realm to snatch the Triforce."
Zelda, hearing his sadness, put her hand on his shoulder. "It won't be in vain, Link. We can stop him from hurting anyone else."
Link frowned. "We don't even know where the other stones are."
She smiled. "We have the castle library. Knowledge is all we need."
Link nodded. "It's too quiet in there," he stated. "It's even quieter than the forest is at nighttime."
She laughed again. She had a nice laugh, Link decided.
"Well, why don't you tell me stories about the forest while we work. I'd love to hear about your home."
"Okay." The thought of home made his heart clench, but he ignored it. Perhaps telling his new friend stories would ease the homesickness.
Zelda offered her hand and Link took it, pocketing the stone again. Confident in their mission, they set off for the castle, hand in hand.
~oOo~
The mission would be a success, Dark was sure. He would not fail.
He'd checked and rechecked every part of his plan. His intelligence included knowledge of the patrols executed by the town guards every night, the fastest and safest way to the East Wall, and the best spot to climb over it. Sakon's movements had also been sketched in his notes. Dark had a fair idea of the town's criminal element by now.
Sienna crouched next to him, watching him squint at his scribbles. "It's still so risky," she said, her small face pinching in a frown.
"We have to take the chance," he countered. "Do you want to stay here forever?"
"No," she relented. "But I don't like how you're getting money for us. It's dangerous."
Dark shrugged off her concern. "I do what I have to. It's no more dangerous than it will be getting from here to Kakariko by ourselves."
Sienna's eyes popped wide. "You don't think we'll be attacked, do you?"
He shook his head. "We'll be okay. I almost have enough money. I just have to do one more job with Sakon and we'll have enough."
"Another job?" She rose up on her knees, planting her hands on her hips. "Dark, you can't! You'll get caught!"
He shifted on the floor, rolling up his plans and shoving them under his bunk. Orphans at Palardine didn't have any toys or trinkets. Only a few had mementos that they hid away from Mrs. Crowe and her beady eyes.
"I'll be careful," he promised Sienna. "If I don't this it will take twice as long to get the money we need."
Sienna hunched her small shoulders. The pair of them had already tried to earn money in respectable ways; but no one wanted to hire a pair of kids.
"Okay," she agreed. "But please, Dark, be careful."
~oOo~
Meditation was a poor substitute for sleep. But he could not rest. Even allowing his eyes to shut took great effort. He'd lashed himself for his weakness, of course. Of all the things to fear in the world, a bad dream was the most irrational.
Fool, Ganondorf chided himself. It is but a dream; a mental obstacle easily overcome. Though his body remained rigid with practice and dedication, his mind refused to quiet, and at long last he abandoned his attempt at meditation.
Opening his eyes, he ignored the slight relief he felt at seeing the torches flickering in the four corners of the room. The shadows of their flames danced across the sand-coloured walls of the tent, giving off warmth and security. Disentangling from the meditative position, he stood and stepped off the rug, stretching his cramped limbs.
His eyes had closed for only a second, but when he opened them a sharp flash of blue greeted him. Startled, he reached for the only weapon allowed in the meditation chamber—a ceremonial dagger tied to his hip. His fingers clenched the finely carved handle before he realized what he had seen was not real.
The cold blue color was not present. His stiff fingers released the dagger back into its sheath. Fool, he thought again. The dead cannot harm you.
Meditation had its downsides, as it tended to unearth old memories he had long since buried. The memory of the lowly soldier with the deep blue eyes was one of them. He had killed the man with his own hands, and yet the ghost of that soldier, Naron, relentlessly haunted him.
Ganondorf's strange episode in the throne room today had rattled him. The unease he still felt, coupled with the rage he harbored towards the king, made him restless.
During his meditation, he'd been unable to delve back into his memory and pull out his brief glimpse of the ones who had been watching him. Instead, he was greeted with images of Naron, his cold blue eyes searing him.
The soldier had been the only one to successfully wound the Gerudo leader during the Unification War. It had once been prophesied that the same man would be Ganondorf's undoing.
The prophecy cannot come to pass, he reminded himself, teeth clenched, when Naron has been dead these many years.
The physical relaxation granted by his meditation had withered. He rubbed his temples slowly, trying to ease the tension of his mind and spirit. It did little to help him, so he promptly extinguished the torches and exited the chamber, leaving his ghosts to dwell in the dark.
In the Gerudo camp, all was quiet. The sentries stood at their posts, unwilling to bend to boredom. The guards lounged around the cooking fires, talking softly.
He left the meditation tent and walked straight to the leader's tent, acknowledging the nods of his people as he passed. Ganondorf pulled back the flap of the tent, unsurprised to see Nabooru already inside.
"Some other solution, perhaps?" she commented, reaching for a bottle of spirits on the table and tossing it to him.
Ganondorf uncorked the bottle and drank deeply. "Nothing," he growled. "The gods hide their knowledge from me."
Nabooru shrugged. "Try again when your mind is clearer. Less clouded by anger."
Ganondorf set down the bottle none too gently and braced his hands on the table's study surface. "My anger is not the problem," he murmured, his eyes roving the map of Hyrule on the table. "It's the Hyruleans that are the problem."
Nabooru grunted, flicking her ponytail off her shoulder. He traced his finger over the lines marking Hyrule's territory. After the war, they now dissected former Gerudo land, pushing his people further into the unforgiving desert.
Their people had learned to coexist with the wasteland in their backyard, but Ganondorf's anger stemmed from the fact that the Hylians were now in charge. The treaty for peace had been signed by him reluctantly, but they simply hadn't been able to match the combined might of the Hylians and their allies.
His eyes flicked to the north and east, where a red 'x' was painted over the former village of the Sheikah. At least that plague was all but gone. He suspected some had survived the massacre.
"What of the stones?" he asked Nabooru, his mind turning back to his plan. It helped to focus on something productive.
"A group of us returned, but the tree was already dead. He no longer had it."
He cursed. "Did we lose anyone in that forsaken forest?"
"One," she admitted. "We didn't stay long."
Rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger, he sighed. "Send Aalrian to the castle tomorrow morning as my ambassador."
Nabooru's red brows rose. "You're going to Death Mountain yourself, then?"
"They need to know how serious I am," he grunted, reaching for the bottle again. "If I must look upon that smug, so-called king's face once more I will ruin our plans."
Nabooru watched him take another deep sip. "You intend to go through with it, then?"
"Of course," he snapped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "The war did not end for me simply because the rest of Hyrule has what they want. My people are still treated as outsiders. We are still demonized. Our home has been ripped away from us. I will take it back."
"We don't know that it even resides here in Hyrule," she said skeptically.
"It's here," Ganondorf countered. "I have seen it. My destiny is to use the power of the gods to remake Hyrule."
Nabooru remained silent for a long moment. "Allow me to go in Aalrian's place," she offered. "Take her with you. Perhaps I will have more luck negotiating."
"No need to negotiate. Placate him; make him believe we are interested in peace. It will make betraying him much easier."
"Yes, my lord," she murmured.
Nabooru crossed her closed fist over her chest and bowed gracefully. She exited the leader's tent without a backward glance. Ganondorf watched her leave, her long red ponytail swaying against her back.
Turning away, he pulled a chair up to the table and bent over the map once more. Sleep wouldn't come tonight, so he banished his lingering uneasy thoughts with the promise of his coming destiny.