Kakariko Graveyard

Kakariko cemetery had always been a peaceful corner of the mountainside village—recent ghost sightings notwithstanding. Nestled at the northeast edge of the village, the graveyard was tucked right at the edge of the nearby forest. Because of the proximity, a number of forest animals ventured into the cemetery plots from time to time. Deer would nibble on clumps of overgrown grass, rodents and birds would hunt for any tidbits of food they could find.

At nighttime, the cemetery was quiet. Occasionally, a nocturnal bird would pass by, seeking a short rest on one of the fences before alighting again. Tonight the only visitor was a lone owl, perched calmly on a headstone in the far corner of the graveyard. The yard was still. So still, in fact, that the great bird began to lull off.

A rumbling underneath the headstone jolted the owl awake. Peering inquisitively at the mound of dirt beneath it, the owl noticed nothing amiss. Ruffling its feathers, the bird settled itself once again and closed its eyes. The rumbling movement disturbed the owl once again a few moments later. It hooted indignantly, and a second later a hand burst from the plot of dirt beneath the headstone. The owl whirled, shocked, flying off into the night and hooting loudly.

The hand clawed its way free of the dirt, pulling the body that belonged to it free of the grave. Coughing, Link rolled onto his back, staring up at the star-speckled sky. Navi fluttered over to him from her hiding place behind a gravestone.

"Link! Are you all right?"

Catching his breath, Link sat up with a groan. "Yeah, I'm fine, Navi."

"Did you get it?" the tiny fairy asked.

Link nodded, he'd stowed the item safely in his tunic and brought it out for Navi to see. The fairy bobbed around it, examining the foreign item in confusion.

"Uhh…what is it?" Navi asked.

Link hefted the item in his hands. "I was hoping you could tell me."

It was fairly small and constructed from strong metals. It had a small handle wrapped with leather for grip that fit nicely in Link's hand. Attached to that was a spindle-like portion that contained a spring-loaded metal chain. The end of the chain ended in a spearhead. Link had already noticed the release button on the handle portion of the weapon. He held it out and pulled the trigger, sending the spearhead rocketing from its place. Link jumped as the spearhead buried itself in the soft cemetery dirt, the metal chain quivering.

Navi had flown inside Link's hat in fear, but slowly emerged now to see the consequence of Link's experimentation. "What in Nayru's name!?" the tiny fairy exclaimed.

Link gave the chain a tug and the spearhead pulled free, bringing dirt along with it. Tentatively, Link flicked the trigger back; immediately the chain was yanked back, rewinding around the spindle with the spearhead safely in place once again.

He laughed at Navi's incredulous expression. "Well that was…fun," he said, still grinning.

"Fun!?"

"Come on, let's see what else it does!"

For the next hour or so, Navi was helplessly dragged along as Link's inner child took over. He quickly mastered the item, which Dampé had aptly named the "hook shot," using it to pull himself on top of the old grave keeper's house and into surrounding trees. The chain was plenty sturdy enough to carry Link's weight, and was long enough that he could reach the top of most buildings in a single shot.

The old grave keeper had been waiting for him deep inside the grave. Rather than finding a casket, Link had fallen several feet into the earth, landing in a mysterious, labyrinthine cave that Dampé now called home. The grave keeper had been floating aimlessly like a Poe, carrying the same kind of lantern that the dark spirits bore with them. Link had been cautious at first, thinking his friend's spirit had become malevolent. The ghost had been glad to see him, though, recognizing Link and greeting him as a friend.

After passing on his long-lost treasure, Dampé had simply vanished, his business concluded. Link had caught a glimpse of the void his friend's spirit had passed through on its way to eternal rest. The spirit had floated on into what looked like a duplicate of Kakariko graveyard, though devoid of life and color. Even the single second's glance into the world of the dead had chilled Link.

His excitement over the hook shot past, Link wandered into Kakariko to buy more food for the journey. Navi had reminded him of the need to travel back to Kokiri forest and help Saria. As much as Link longed to see his friend again, his mood had visibly darkened. When he had left his childhood home, he hadn't been sure if he would ever go back. He had felt such a strong pull towards Hyrule…it hadn't even occurred to him to go see his old friends. And now, seven years had passed. Would they even remember him? Probably not, he had never really fit in. He had never really belonged there anyways…

His thoughts were interrupted by Navi. "Link! Are you ready to go?"

Startled, Link did a quick check of his pack; it was stocked full of supplies for travel, as well as food, water, a warm cloak, a small knife, and the hook shot. The boomerang and slingshot he'd stored in Dampé's house, not quite sure if he'd have use for either of them. The key to the grave keeper's hut he kept with him.

"Yep," he replied, hefting the pack onto his back over the Master Sword's sheath.

He secured his shield over the pack, shifting to make sure everything was ready for travel. It would take several days to make it back to Kokiri forest, and even longer if Link didn't take the main roads. Navi had cautioned him against this, saying that it wasn't safe. Even so, Link wanted to try; he wanted to find out more of what Ganondorf had done to his home.

~oOo~

Greywood Road, North Clocktown, Termina

"Congratulations," the man told him, extending one mammoth hand towards him, palm open and waiting. "I have no doubts that you will make a fine home for yourself here, young man."

Dark straightened from his position leaning over the desk. He rolled up the title deed in front of him, newly decorated with his signature, and handed it to the large man standing behind the desk. "Thank you."

The lack of enthusiasm in Dark's voice irked the man. "It's quite a large property for a single person," he continued, taking the deed from Dark. "Or was there someone in mind when you decided on this house?" he chuckled to himself, ignoring Dark's slanted look.

Dark looked around the room; it was beautiful. It was precisely why he'd chosen this house. It was a bit older, but spacious and cozy, tucked away into a quiet corner of North-West Clocktown. It would require minimum renovations, but Dark was prepared to take on the task. The end result was more than worth it.

"I did have someone in mind…" he muttered, quietly enough that the salesman wouldn't hear.

The man continued to chat idly, but Dark mostly ignored him as they did a final tour of the house. He wasn't a particularly social person, especially when it came to strangers. After all, what did he have to say to others? Absolutely nothing. Dark sighed. Moving to Clocktown was the right thing to do. He was a grown man, and couldn't rely on Fierce's hospitality forever. And, as Sienna frequently reminded him, it would do him good to be around the rest of the world, instead of secluded in a cottage in Snowhead.

"Ah, here we are. The master bedroom, once again. However, the furnishings have been brought in this time around."

Dark peered around the man's massive frame to look into the room. The last time he'd seen it, it had been empty. His eyes widened as he took it all in. The light blue walls and the abundance of natural light coming in through the glass balcony doors gave the room a serene feel. The large four-poster bed dominated the space across from the doors, the bedspread sprinkled with soft sunlight. It stood proudly flanked by two small tables on either side of the headboard. On the far side was the dark wood wardrobe and desk, contrasting nicely with the gentle blue of the wall. Next to these was a second door leading to the master bath. The flooring was also wood, smoothed down from years of use. In the opposite corner near the glass doors was a small sitting area, boasting a two large armchairs and a new fireplace.

Dark's companion strode forward, pushing the curtains further back from the balcony doors to let in the maximum amount of light. "A perfect combination of new and old," he sighed, fondly stroking a hand down the dark blue curtain. "And, of course, nothing beats a view like that." He threw open the doors of the balcony, admitting the fresh spring breeze.

Dark walked towards the balcony, stepping out to admire the sight. "It's lovely," he admitted, finding a smile sneaking onto his face in spite of himself.

From this vantage point he could see the sleepy neighbourhood of North Clocktown. He could even see the community park. Perhaps the best feature was its proximity to the city walls. Dark could see right over them, into the lush, green expanses of Termina Field. It was a breathtaking sight. A picturesque plain, dotted with smaller towns and villages, gave way to rolling green hills, rich with life, before rising into the Snowhead peaks. Dark smiled; it was precisely why he'd chosen to live on the north side of town.

"It is to your satisfaction?"

Dark turned to meet the man's round face and, in his opinion, too-cheerful eyes. "Yes, completely."

The man chuckled again. "Excellent. Shall we see the rest of the house?"

They toured the rest of the second floor before moving back to the first and concluding the tour, giving Dark time to admire the house with all its furnishings. Now that it was ready for him to move into, all he had left to do was pack up his belongings at the Snowhead cottage and say goodbye.

His heart panged at the thought. He would miss his brother; Snowhead was a long journey from Termina's capital. Even though Fierce had taught him the warping spell, enabling him to travel as instantaneously as he liked, the distance still felt like the deepest and widest of chasms. And Sienna…what if she refused him? He still hadn't asked her to move to Clocktown with him. She seemed happy where she was, but Dark was certain that living here would be much more agreeable with his best friend there with him.

The salesman handed him the key before taking his leave. He'd come here by carriage, one of the fastest methods of transportation within the city. And one of the most expensive. Dark preferred using magic. Of course, the magic pool in Termina was thinner than in Hyrule, so it wasn't a luxury most people had.

Dark sighed again, fitting the key into the newly installed lock. He pocketed the bit of metal, feeling strangely happy about the results of the day. It had taken him most of the afternoon to settle the deed and make sure everything was in order for his impending move. He'd also had several meetings that morning about jobs in town. Sundown was rapidly approaching now, and Dark thanked the goddesses he didn't have to travel across Termina by night. It had been rumored that the roads had been plagued by bandits recently. Not as much of an issue for Dark, but it would make him late for dinner, and Sienna would have his head.

He pulled his cloak tightly around his shoulders, flipping up the hood at the back to cover his face. Ducking into the alleyway beside his new home, he took his usual deep breath, feeling the familiar tingling sensation. He was by no means an expert on magic—one would have to be trained at the academy for that—but Fierce had been an excellent teacher. Over the years, Dark had mastered a small set of magical skills; enough to get him by. Perhaps the most useful one was the spell named for the third goddess, Farore's Wind. The warping spell.

One of the hardest spells to master for its complexity, but it was undeniably convenient. Apprentice mages at the academy often raised funds for their schooling by offering less well-trained citizens their services, warping them almost anywhere in the world for a small fee. This was a handy service if one had to travel a long distance and had packed lightly. It was difficult for an apprentice to warp large parties, since all the extra weight added up. Most people used caravans or carriages when traveling long distances with a surplus of luggage. Within the city, most townsfolk simply walked or used horses for transportation.

Since Dark had no one to carry but himself, warping was much faster and safer. It was, however, an uncommon sight to see someone who wasn't from the academy using the spell, hence his hiding in the alley. The tingling sensation grew, spreading from the center of his chest all through his veins, from his toes to his fingertips to the crown of his head. It was essential not to leave anything out, or you could end up with missing body parts.

Dark took a deep breath again, steadying himself and drawing in more energy. The world was positively infused with magical energy; it lived in everything, from the plants to the water to earth itself. It even hung in the air, a fine, invisible mist. This made it easy for anyone with magical blood in their veins to access the power all around them. The energy was absorbed into his body, reacting to the magical energy in his blood, bending to the purpose he needed it for.

He blinked. The streets of Clocktown disappeared. He was now standing in the paddock of the Snowhead cottage, next to the wooden fence. The magic flowed out of him once again, back into the earth. It took with it a small amount of his own energy; the price it cost to be a magic user. He exhaled, feeling the last of the shivers caused by magic use fade. One of the most important lessons Fierce had taught was the importance of the cycle when using magic. You took some, you gave some back. The magic inside his blood wasn't inexhaustible. It was, however, capable of being replenished.

"Dark!" Sienna's voice snapped him out of the post-magic stupor.

She rushed towards him excitedly, throwing her arms around his neck. He nearly slipped in the half-melted snow under his feet. Spring was slowly coming back to the mountains, chasing the habitual cold away. Dark felt unseasonal heat engulf him as Sienna's soft body crashed into his.

"Ah…is everything all right?" he asked, concern seeping into his voice.

She looked up at him, her beautiful eyes huge with excitement. "Of course! I'm just glad that you're home! I was so afraid you'd be late."

Dark couldn't help a smile as he stared down into her lovely face. "I missed you too. I wouldn't be late for dinner," he assured her.

Sienna laughed, rolled her eyes. "Yes, you would. What shocks me is that you'd be late for dinner on this particular night!"

Dark stared at her blankly, trying to remember what he had missed. Was it a special occasion? Had Sienna planned something special for tonight that he'd forgotten?

She laughed again. "How can you forget your own birthday, Dark!?"

Dark started. "R-right…" Today was his eighteenth birthday. She burst into a fit of giggles, hugging him tightly to her. Dark took a breath to calm himself, which only succeeded in allowing her soft, floral scent to fill his head.

"Honestly, you're so strange sometimes." She smiled at him fondly, then finally released him—he said a silent prayer for that small mercy—and led him back inside.

~oOo~

Faxxon street, East Clocktown

The man stepped out of the stuffy carriage, adjusting his fine vest over his portly frame. He was satisfied with the day's business transactions. Even more so with the information he had uncovered about his last customer, the strange youth known as Dark. The man, Shelton, made his way down a side street, whistling to himself as he puffed out his chest importantly. He had one more errand to do tonight.

He approached a modest establishment on the next corner, digging in his trouser pocket for some rupees. He handed them to the doorman, who pocketed them and opened the door for Shelton. Shelton smiled, patting his round stomach as the hulk of a doorman shut the door behind them and led the way into the dark inn. It wasn't a filthy place, but it wasn't up to Shelton's high standards, either. He put a handkerchief to his nose to protect his delicate sinuses from the offensive stench. Shelton grimaced; he would have to have his boots shined after this.

"Here," the doorman suddenly spoke in a voice far too soft and melodic for his imposing frame.

Shelton nodded his thanks, stepping through the doorway and into a small office. A figure stood patiently next to the bookcase, studying the tomes on its shelves with curiosity. Shelton entered and seated himself as comfortable as possible in an armchair. The tall, cloaked figure turned.

"You're late." A woman's voice came from beneath the cowl.

"So sorry," Shelton apologized half-heartedly.

He reached for a bottle that sat lonely and forlorn on the desk in front of him. His hand never made contact; suddenly, a wickedly curved dagger was between his pudgy fingers and the bottle, quivering slightly. The woman's hand emerged from the cloak to retrieve the weapon, yanking it out of the wood. Shelton slowly pulled back his hand, giving the woman his full attention. She had moved so quickly, like a viper. Shelton struggled not to gulp.

The woman lowered her hood. A cascade of red hair tumbled down her back. Shelton eyed her warily, deciding it would be best to conclude his business with this woman as quickly as possible.

"The one you've been searching for," Shelton began. "I know where to find him."

The woman didn't move. She gazed back at him with onyx eyes.

Shelton said hurriedly, "I sold him a house today, here…" Shelton reached into his vest pocket, pulling out his copy of the title deed with Dark's signature. He handed it to the Gerudo woman, who took it, reading it over quickly.

What would have been a smile crossed her lips, but it seemed out of place on her serious features. She folded the title deed, slipping the hood of her cloak over her head once again. Her business was done.

Shelton stood out of good manners, but the woman had swiftly vanished, leaving the door open behind her. Shelton suppressed a shiver, still feeling her cold eyes upon him. Then he muttered something about her bad manners before shuffling out. He nodded absently at the giant of a doorman on his way out. He climbed into his carriage, sighing at the comfort. He instructed the driver to take him home. Horse and carriage disappeared down the street as the cloaked woman looked on.

She waited patiently as the doorman emerged to douse the lamp hanging outside the shoddy inn. His job complete, the street was plunged into darkness. Satisfied, the woman pulled out the title deed she had acquired from Shelton. There was no time to bring it to her superiors; it would take her several days to return to Hyrule. Not to mention the slight chance she would be attacked and the deed stolen. She almost laughed at the thought of common bandits attempting to rob a Gerudo warrior.

Instead, she held the contract, rolled up, in her hand. Her entire hand began to glow with dark purple light, soon growing into magical flames. They surrounded the title deed and a small note she had attached, not burning it, but disintegrating it. The paper fizzled out with the flames, gone. Already, another Gerudo messenger in Hyrule would be able to perform the same spell, retrieving the title deed and its contents.

~oOo~

Hundreds of miles away in Hyrule Castle, Captain Aalrian of the King's guard felt a twitch. She perked up, happy to have a distraction from her patrol. The twitch was insistent, located at the base of her skull, letting her know another Gerudo was attempting to communicate with her via their particular brand of magic. It was often called black magic, though it wasn't to be confused with evil magic. Dark magic was extremely powerful and destructive. Only a select few had the ability to wield it.

Aalrian reached out a hand as dark purple flames burst into life before her. A scroll hung in the flames, suspended in mid-air. She snatched it out, the fire cradling her hand lovingly, recognizing the black magic in her Gerudo blood. It was from the Clocktown messenger. And it was urgent. Aalrian read the contents of the note, then the signature scrawled on the title deed.

Finally, she thought, some good news to bring Lord Ganondorf.

She stowed both items safely in a pouch on her costume. Gerudos didn't wear armor. Aalrian had traded her traditional red garb—the outfit of a captain— for an outfit that allowed her as much movement as possible. She wore a tight-fitting shirt with leather reinforcement, as well as trousers, tapered at the knees, also with reinforced leather pads sewn in. She had on metal bracers to protect her forearms and calves. She had donned leather gloves, and tied up her hair in a high ponytail, as most Gerudos did.

She moved quickly and silently, the traditional Gerudo slippers making no sound on the stone beneath her feet. Any woman she passed was a Gerudo guard. There were no Hylian soldiers, forced to work for Ganondorf, stationed in this part of the castle. They nodded respectfully as she passed, keeping patrol in an organized and timely fashion.

She finally reached the door of the castle library, which the Gerudo King had made his office. It was evening, but he would still be here for hours yet. She knocked sharply, and his voice came from within, permitting her to enter. Aalrian did so, quickly kneeling before her king.

"My lord," she greeted him.

He stood by the window, looking out. He did so often. "Rise, Aalrian."

Aalrian obeyed. "My lord, I have received a message from my spy in Clocktown."

Ganondorf turned, interested. "Termina?"

The land east of Hyrule had so far evaded his influence. While closely related to Hylians, the Terminans lacked their magical power, and had thus far been of little use to him. Many Hylians had fled into Termina as the skies above Hyrule had grown darker.

"Yes, my lord. You instructed us to find—"

He cut her off. "I instructed you to find Princess Zelda, and you have failed me for these seven years." He glowered down at her. She lowered her head.

"We are still searching, my lord. You must remember, however, that the Princess is highly skilled in magic…"

He merely grunted. "She will turn up eventually. Now that the forest kid has returned, she will."

Aalrian looked up in curiosity. "The forest boy?" she asked, cocking a brow.

He nodded. When he had taken possession of the Triforce, it had reacted to the evil intentions in his heart, shattering into three pieces. Only the Triforce of Power had remained with Ganondorf, the piece that he prized above the other two. He had told none of the Gerudo warriors this. Better to let them think he contained all the power of the gods. He was certain Princess Zelda held one of the other two pieces. As for the kid, it was just a hunch, but he was nearly sure that he held the last piece. Why else would he have been sealed in the Sacred Realm? The realm had closed on Ganondorf, refusing him entry. He had to acquire the remaining pieces in order to attain true power…the power sealed within the Sacred Realm.

Ganondorf told her, "There is no need to capture him, he will come to me eventually."

Aalrian cleared her throat. "Of course. This message is about the third person you asked me to find, my lord."

Ganondorf's smile widened, realizing who she meant. "You must be wondering why I asked you to find this one, Captain."

She shifted nervously, not sure whether to respond. "Yes, my lord."

"That forest kid, he seemed familiar. He's not a Kokiri, that is for certain. He's a Hylian."

Her brow rose again.

The King nodded. "His face seemed familiar to me. I finally realized why after consulting Koume and Kotake. They helped me to uncover long-forgotten memories."

"The witches?" Aalrian asked, surprised. Everyone knew of them. They practiced dark magic.

"At the end of the Unification War, I led an attack against the village of Tellura. We burned it to the ground." He gazed out the window, the memories already returning to the surface of his mind. She remained silent. "I was seeking revenge. A lowly solider had wounded me in a battle. This man had a family, you see."

Aalrian started to piece it together. "You think the forest kid is this soldier's son?"

"Yes. The kid was only an infant then, but I saw him. I remember his mother. She escaped with the kid, into the forest. His resemblance to her is not a coincidence."

"Surely not," she agreed. For him to sound so certain, he must have had his guess confirmed by the dark witches. "What does this have to do with the other Hylian living in Clocktown?" she asked, indicating the signature on the title deed.

Ganondorf grinned. "I believe the forest kid will be the perfect bait to lure out Zelda. But this soldier's wife had another son. I believe he also escaped that night."

Aalrian's eyes widened. "You think…"

Ganondorf nodded. "Yes. Koume and Kotake assured me of the relation. I intend to exploit it."

"What are your orders, my lord?" she asked, seeing the glint of victory in the King's eyes.

"Bring him to me."

Without comment, Aalrian rose from the floor, leaving swiftly to carry out her lord's orders. Ganondorf glared at his reflection in the window. He looked tired, stressed. He looked weak. With a low growl, he spun on his heel, facing the room. He was not at all surprised to see two short, hooded figures there. One of them cackled, amused. Her hood slid back, revealing a long, hawkish nose.

"You really trust Aalrian with this secret?" she questioned him, her voice high and thin, showing her great age.

Ganondorf seated himself behind his desk, glaring at the two women. "For now. She is still useful."

The other witch snickered, brushing off her hood. "Now that's debatable, is it not, Koume?"

Koume cackled again. "Indeed. Why bother telling her about Tellura at all? After so many years, you still hold a grudge against a dead man." She laughed anew, mocking him.

Ganondorf stood, his anger stirring. "He may be dead, but his sons live. Sons, who, the two of you revealed to me, are my greatest enemies."

Her too-wide eyes fixing on him, Kotake murmured, her tone serious, "And they will be. The soldier's sons are a greater threat to you than any other. They will be your downfall if you do not change your path."

Striking the desk with his fist, Ganondorf spat, "Then I will change it." The words rung in the air as if he'd shouted. "I have found one, at last. When I have him, the forest kid will come to me, and Zelda will follow." He straightened and turned again towards the window, studying the dark circles beneath his eyes. "They will all follow, and I will be rid of them."

Koume cackled lightly. "A flawless plan…my lord."

"Flawless, yes," Kotake added, her lopsided smile mocking.

Nettled, he spun his back to the pair, dismissing them coldly. Their departure was announced by the fading sound of their high-pitched, grating laughter. He rubbed his temples, glad to be rid of the nuisance for the moment. The mark of the Triforce on his hand glowed weakly.

Anxiety was an unfamiliar emotion to him, and a useless one at that. Yet he was unable to brush it aside. It dredged up memories of his time spent in the desert, when he'd discovered the legends of the relic of the gods. That knowledge had brought the answer to his prayers. He had known then that he would achieve his goal and hold the golden relic in his hands.

But with that knowledge came the prophecy that all he would achieve could be undone by the sons of one lowly Hylian soldier.