Daylight's last rays had vanished. A faint ember glow could be seen highlighting the ridge, but darkness soon swallowed it.

Lit windows and strategically located lamps provided adequate light in the village's streets. Still, they walked with caution as they approached the gate. Link was the only one armed, but it didn't concern him. Dark had proven an effective fighter even without a weapon.

Crows cackled from above, watching with beady eyes as the group entered the village. They roosted on the gate, acting as sentinels in the place of absent guards. It was suspicious that Ganondorf's men did not patrol the streets. Link wasn't taking chances, though. In the time he'd been gone, the gate had been plastered with drawings of his likeness. There was even a ransom offered by the captain of the guard.

Dark knelt to rip a poster free. It was crudely drawn, and only vaguely resembled Link. Still, his Kokiri clothing was distinctive enough.

"What in Din's name did you do to incur such fear in him? You must be a significant threat for him to want you dead so badly," Dark commented, a tinge of amusement in his voice.

Link, his back to the stone wall of a house, shrugged. "Nothing in particular," he replied, deciding to avoid a lengthy explanation of his quest to awaken the six sages and save Hyrule.

Dark made a noncommittal noise, unconvinced by Link's lie. He tossed aside the poster, letting the wind snatch it away.

"It's so quiet," Sienna said, her voice low.

Dark replied, "Don't be fooled. We're being watched."

Link surveyed his surroundings, trying to sift through the shadows to catch watching eyes. He saw nothing, but he knew that Dark was right. They were surrounded. As if sensing their prey had noticed them, their pursuers took action. Dark's left ear twitched; the only warning Sienna was given before he twisted towards her, seizing her around the waist and whirling her to the side. An arrow grazed the arm shielding her, and he cursed.

Drawing his blade, Link held his shield high to protect himself from an incoming volley of arrows. Sienna, covered by Dark's body, was quickly pushed behind a stack of crates. With a short order to stay put, he joined their traveling companion as their attackers emerged from the shadows to surround them.

The nearest one, jabbing a spear in Link's face, shrieked with an unearthly howl that caused the hairs on his neck to spring straight. Navi hovered close to Link's head, urging him to defend himself.

"Bokoblins!" Dark exclaimed, startling Link to action.

He swung with his sword, cleaving creature in two. It yowled in pain and burst into dark tendrils of smoke. Biting back his disgust as the goblin-like creature's bright blue blood spattered him, he charged at the second one that came hobbling towards him.

As he cut down his third, he glanced up to see more joining the fight. His stomach did a sickening plummet. Dark had disarmed one of the bokoblins of its crude club, and was using it to smash in the malformed skull of another of the monsters.

"Dark!" Link called, wiping the blade of the Master Sword in the grass.

The stunned bokoblin lay at Dark's feet. He prodded the thing's wrinkled, dark blue flesh. Too-bright eyes darted around in a senseless bloodlust. Grimly, he brought the stolen club down, ending the beast's miserable life.

"There's more!" Link warned, gritting his teeth as more of the goblins swooped down into the square.

Dark cursed, tossing away the club and picking up a large cleaver. Link eyed it, trying not to find it funny that someone as tall as Dark was using a weapon made for a creature less than half his size.

"What's so funny?" he asked, annoyed. Link shook his head, raising his sword as the next wave ran at them.

They never made it. Before the first bokoblin had swung at them, a shard of silver light had shot forth from the shadows to their left, piercing the bokoblin in his skinny neck. With an animalistic cry, it fell, scratching blindly at its wound as it curled up in pain. The others let out screams of frustration and stopped their battle charge. Bokoblin eyes had adapted to see in the dark, but whoever had attacked them remained unseen.

More flashes of silver whizzed by the two men, hitting their marks without fault. When the last bokoblin had collapsed, Dark whirled, raising the cleaver.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

A rustle of clothing was the only reply from their mysterious rescuer. Then, a woman's flat, stern voice said: "If I were you, I would strip myself of those clothes with haste."

"Excuse me!?" Dark said, shocked.

"Bokoblins' blood contains an acid that will start to eat through your skin in minutes."

Disturbed, Dark started to check his clothing surreptitiously for bloodstains. They removed their shirts, as speckles of azure blood had already begun to eat away at the fabric.

The wall to Link's right moved. He nearly jumped out of his skin as the mystery woman appeared as if from thin air, approaching them. She wore a black mask to hide her features. Only her eyes were visible. In the darkness, it was impossible to discern color, but they swung from Dark to Link—and she stopped short.

Dimly, Link remembered reading another wanted poster on Kakariko's notice board. The captain of the guard had been seeking the masked night prowler, someone who had evidently been causing Kakariko's guards some trouble. She'd apparently been keeping the nastier beasts like the bokoblins away from the village, too.

"Link? Is that you?" the woman asked, coming towards him.

Link went rigid, still wary of the stranger but trying to place her voice. Halting just in front of him, she raised an arm, one that he could now see was covered in armor, and stripped away her mask.

Link gasped. "Impa!?"

Even in the darkness, and with seven years' worth of hardship etched on her face, he recognized the Sheikah woman. Navi bobbed excitedly, illuminating Impa's closed-mouth smile and crimson-colored irises.

"It's been a long time, Link," Impa said. Inclining her head, she remarked on the sword still clutched in his fist. "I see that you've found the Master Sword. As well as some new friends." She took in Dark and Sienna, who had risen from her hiding spot to join them.

"Impa, I want to ask you—" Link began.

Impa placed a hand on his shoulder, silencing him. "There's time enough for explanations later. It isn't safe here. Follow me."

With a curt nod, she turned and leapt back into the shadows' embrace. Stunned, Link hurried to catch up, his traveling companions following close behind.

Warmed by a fire, fueled by a much-needed dinner and safe from prying eyes, Dark let himself relax a touch. Link's Sheikah friend had taken them to a large house in the eastern quarter of the town. She had claimed it was her childhood home. Though he hadn't doubted her, he hadn't commented.

Dark had never met a Sheikah, but he found the experience unsettling. Within minutes of meeting her, he had appraised her with the cool calculation of a person who does not trust easily.

She was obviously a skilled fighter. It wasn't her age or her tense, feline-like demeanor or even the high-quality armor she wore as comfortably as her own skin. It was her stare. Upon entering her home, she had gazed at him…and read everything about him. Impa looked at him and catalogued every strength, every weakness and anything that might give her an advantage over him. She had dismissed him for now, but he knew that in her eyes, he was a potential threat.

From the time he was a child, he'd had to perform the same quick, cold assessment of everyone he met. Everyone was a potential enemy, a potential threat to him. It was a reaction that came from a life's worth of distrust and caution. It was a reaction that came with being a fighter.

Dark had looked into Impa's eyes and seen the look of a lifelong warrior. He had looked at her and met the eyes of someone who outstripped him in skill.

And that fact was a daunting one.

He curled his fingers over Sienna's, feeling protective. She glanced sideways at him, but said nothing. She already knew how uneasy the situation made him.

After treating them to a hearty meal, Impa had taken the seat opposite Link, telling him of her exploits in terrorizing Ganondorf's lackeys who had taken up residence in her village. It was just idle chitchat.

Dark could see that Link had something on his mind, but wouldn't discuss it in front of him and Sienna. He kept fidgeting like a child who wanted to ask an important question; it almost made him laugh. Impa shot customary glances their way, watching them like a hawk.

Feigning a yawn, Dark rose, excusing himself to bed. Sienna thanked the Sheikah woman warmly for her hospitality. Keeping his fingers locked in hers, he hurried upstairs, finding the nearest spare bedroom and darting inside.

"Dark, what's wrong?" she asked, intuitive as ever.

"Shh," he cautioned her. "I'll be right back, you can get some sleep; you need it."

"You're going to listen in on them?" she accused. "Dark!"

He moved to crouch near the stairway, brightly lit from the fire's glow. From here he could overhear everything that was said. Realizing he would not give up, Sienna sighed, giving him an affectionate kiss on the cheek before turning back into the bedchamber. He turned his attention downstairs.

Unaware of the intrusion, Link turned to Impa. He knew she'd been waiting for the same thing. His desire for a private conversation came from the belief that Dark would never believe his unlikely story, not distrust.

"It's been seven years, Link." Impa sighed, reaching to rub a knot in her shoulder. "It would seem that you've been coming along."

Link glanced at Navi, asleep in front of the fire, bundled into his hat. "Not as far as I would like."

Impa waited for him to continue, her unnatural eyes searching his face. He remembered being fearful of her, unsettled. Now, he found the deep red of her eyes to be warm and familiar, something he realized he'd desperately missed.

Seemingly sensing his emotional distress, Impa leaned forward, spreading her hands out, palms up. Link swallowed, and began telling her, briefly, of his travels from his awakening in the Chamber of Sages to meeting Dark and Sienna in the nearby forest. He left out his inner doubts about being the legendary hero, but she seemed to pull the truth from his words anyhow. He forced himself not to ask about Zelda, and he left his meetings with Sheik out as well.

When he was finished, Impa let out another sigh. "Link…" she said quietly, choosing her words. "These burdens you carry with you, everything you've faced…it will not get easier," she told him.

Link raised his eyes to meet hers, azure against crimson. "I know," he said solemnly.

Impa's presence held a matronly undercurrent, acting as a balm on the part of his soul that still felt as a child, reassuring it. But her straightforward honesty and bluntness served to steel the part of him that acted as an adult—a side of him that was rapidly growing.

The adult side of him had grown stronger, more prominent, out of need to protect the small, frightened child from its cruel reality. His battles to retrieve the Spiritual Stones were literal child's play compared to this.

This was being the Hero of Time, bearing the burdens of the world upon his shoulders, wielding the weapon of the forces of good, and fighting for the needs and desires of others. Selflessness, sacrifice, strength and courage were needed of the Hero.

He had nearly failed, when facing Volvagia in the belly of Death Mountain. His spirit had rebelled at the thought of killing an innocent creature. But he had persevered. Link knew that the spark of his old self would soon be covered by walls of steel, designed to help him realize his potential as the Hero of Time. Though it was the only way to save the people of Hyrule, he felt the cost of the surrender.

Impa regarded him with compassion. "I can see that you've made your decision. You cannot truly be the Hero of Time until you become much stronger."

After some hesitation, she clasped his shoulder, rising to leave.

"Impa." Link reached out and held her arm. He kept his eyes averted from her face. "Where is Zelda?"

Some unseen force gripped her heart, squeezing without mercy. Foolishly, she had hoped to avoid the question. Her throat forced out an answer, pushing past the tension in her chest.

"I do not know."

Impa left the house then, but Link stayed at the fireside, peering into its light. Dark watched for a moment before he rose from the landing.

He stripped off the rest of his clothes, which thankfully hadn't been stained with bokoblin blood, and sat on the edge of the bed. Sienna was asleep already, still wearing her boots.

Dark rose and pulled them off her feet, setting them on the floor.

Link's story, as told to Impa, confirmed everything Fierce had told him. His brother really was a legendary Hero. At least, the reincarnation of one.

And he was searching for the late princess. He'd mentioned her name.

Dark lay on his back, gazing at the ceiling. He wished Fierce would have warned him about this coincidental meeting with Link. A warning might have been nice.

Sleep came slowly, but when it did all Dark did was dream of black clouds and orange lightning searing him from the inside out.

~oOo~

Hyrule Castle

A myriad of voices dominated the grand entrance of Hyrule Castle. It was a wide hall with a vaulted ceiling, and spoken words echoed off the polished floors. Stately, carved wooden panels flashed past as she walked, the lush carpets giving way with soft sighs at every footfall.

Captain Aalrian wasted no time descending the master staircase, seeking the source of the commotion. Whatever it was lay amidst a crowd of Gerudo guards whom she commanded aside. What she saw made her breath hitch.

"Imara!" Aalrian exclaimed, rushing to her side. "Sister, what happened?"

Imara brushed aside her sister's concern.

"I must speak with Lord Ganondorf. Immediately," she declared without preamble.

Without another word, Aalrian gestured for the gathered guards to leave. They dispersed, still gawking, or attended to the injured in Imara's party. Several of them sported minor burns, though it was storming heavily outside. The injured women were ushered to the infirmary, while the others made their way to the guards' dorms to dry off.

Leading Imara, who didn't appear to be seriously hurt, back up the master staircase, Aalrian could barely conceal her curiosity. She waited until they landed on the third floor, far from anyone's ears, before questioning her.

"What happened?" she asked again, her tone insistent.

Imara heaved a sigh, footsteps measured to match her sister's pace. "I was instructed to travel to Termina and retrieve someone."

"I'm aware," Aalrian said impatiently, waving a hand for her to continue.

"Everything went smoothly. We arrived back in Hyrule without any occurrences."

Something in her voice made Aalrian halt and turn around. "Imara?"

"Who is he, Aalrian?" the other woman asked, hazel eyes reflecting the firelight from the torches that lined the walls. Her gaze was unrelenting.

Aalrian sighed. "Lord Ganondorf believes him to be the relation of his enemy."

Imara didn't need to ask who she was referring to. All of the guards had been forbidden to discuss the matter. He was never referred to by name, or by the title he supposedly held. Still, there was speculation and gossip.

"That's impossible," Imara stated.

Aalrian shrugged, continuing up a secondary set of stairs. "Lord Ganondorf believes it to be true. He claims the old witches confirmed it. They revealed to him another premonition."

Imara stopped, surprise etched into her features. Her fingers curled around her sister's arm before she could climb any higher. "Aalrian," she said urgently. "Is it true? About the forest kid, is it true?"

Aalrian hesitated. As the captain of the guard at Hyrule Castle, she spent more time with their king than anyone. With the possible exception of the witches. Still, she had knowledge of many things she knew Lord Ganondorf would rather keep quiet.

She took a step down, leaning close to whisper to Imara. "The king has frequent nightmares. They happen almost every night now. He has tripled the search efforts for the princess, and he is no longer concerned with capturing the kid. Our orders are to terminate."

Imara's expression betrayed her surprise. She had been absent from the castle many months. She nodded for Aalrian to continue.

The other woman leaned closer, speaking more quietly still. "He spends endless hours in the library, searching for something. It's become…an obsession almost. And…" She cast a look around. "Lord Ganondorf has become increasingly interested in the Interlopers."

Imara's tanned face paled a shade or two. "Aalrian, I must tell you something. About the brother, he can—" She stopped short when footsteps sounded above them.

Her sister silenced her with a look. "Later, Imara. We must hurry."

Concerns still wavering on the surface, Imara followed her. Ascending the last staircase, they arrived at the throne room. One of the floor-to-ceiling doors stood ajar. Cautiously, Aalrian eased it open.

"My lord?" she called, creeping in, Imara at her side.

The pair entered, the massive door slamming shut loudly behind them. The sound echoed painfully in the long, dark room. At the very end, the impressive throne sat occupied by their master. His head was bowed, knees rigid, hands locked into fists atop them. The tendons in his hands stood out against the darkness of his skin.

"My lord?" Aalrian called again, approaching him warily.

Bright crimson hair curtained his face, rustling with every breath he took. His breathing was harsh, almost ragged. At last, he lifted his face, straightening his spine to sit straight and tall in the throne. Imara fought a gasp as she gazed into his face.

Ganondorf was no longer the young Gerudo warmonger he had been, but the age in his face appalled her. His hairline had begun to recede prematurely, and stress lined the corners of his eyes, which resembled sunken holes in the canvas of his face. His jaw was no longer proudly set, and the general air of command he usually carried was missing.

The skin stretched over his hands, much thinner than she remembered, and his face was an unhealthy color, reminding her of someone ill. He no longer resembled the lord she had sworn fealty to.

Clenching her teeth, she wished for nothing more than to shove him off the throne of Hyrule.

"Lord Ganondorf," Aalrian addressed him. "Imara has returned from Termina."

Ganondorf turned his eyes on Imara. They were bloodshot and unfocused. She lifted her chin, refusing to address him so formally. "I am afraid that the prisoner escaped. I believe him to be headed for Kakariko village and plan to head an attack as soon as we are able."

If her lack of respect annoyed him, he didn't show it. His eyes did narrow at her announcement that she was authorizing an attack without his order or consent.

"So be it," he acquiesced. "Alatar will help you."

Imara stared at him with thinly veiled disgust. This man was not the warlord she had known and respected. A Gerudo King shouldn't rely on evil magic. A real Gerudo leader would have stood up from that throne and lead his troops into battle himself.

All her life, Imara had been taught the weaknesses of men and their insatiable ambition; their impatience, irrationality and arrogance. Gerudo culture had been built by the strength of its women.

Once every hundred years, a single male child was born. According to Gerudo legend, that child would become their leader. What Imara saw in front her of was not the fulfillment of that ancient prophecy.

What lay before her was not the one destined to lead the Gerudo into providence. Before her sat a weak excuse for a leader. Before her sat the failure of a man's ambition.

"Leave."

The single word came out in a wheeze. Ganondorf's head bowed; he didn't look up again.

Imara turned on her heel sharply, barely suppressing a scoff. Rumours and whispered accusations flitted through her mind. Everything she'd heard of the changes in her king were true.

Aalrian followed behind her, hurrying to keep up with Imara's furious steps.

"Sister, wait!" she hissed, grabbing at Imara's arm as the doors closed behind them once again. "You should wait for Alatar!"

"I'll handle it myself," she snapped back. "I don't need that sorcerer or his ugly magic."

Aalrian was undeterred. "Imara, you should listen. Alatar, he-"

"Alatar doesn't control me," Imara growled. "We leave as soon as my warriors are able."

She shook free of her sister's grasp, stomping away towards the infirmary. Aalrian watched her go with a frown on her face.

She felt Alatar's eyes, though the corridor was empty. His spies were hidden every crevice of the castle.

What the sorcerer would do if Imara stood in his way, she didn't know.