Konichiwa! Nice to see/annoy y'all again! Please, enjoy! Arigato for read reading this; you guys really don't know how much writing means to me! UwU

Chapter 3: Breathe

Steve's POV

His body felt heavy. Steve had experienced feelings like these before; he was an Avenger, after all. But, he could still remember all of it correctly: the heartbroken cries of his teammates, his consciousness slipping away as a warm and sticky substance soaked his clothing (pervert face), and the fear that had overcome him. The only other things he remembered were of him being attacked by some "demons", and then him waking up at one point-in immeasurable pain-and a pair of kind blue eyes looking into his own. And then, the world was dark.

Steve felt like he had rocks on his eyelids, but he cracked his eyes open and looked around him. He was in an open air room, lying on a comfortable bed with a warm blanket on him, but the part of his body that wasn't covered-his head and some of his shoulders-was freezing. The "room" he was in was a bright and a glowing blue that hurt his eyes to look at, and it didn't help that he knew it was the early hours, due to the sunlight surrounding him.

Am I dead? Was I carried away by an angel, or something?

He shifted in the bed, noticing that he was bandaged up. Of course, this didn't mean that he wasn't in pain, but it at least assured him that he probably wasn't dead yet. He twitched his fingers to make sure that he still had arms, and then opened his eyes up all the way to get a better look of where he was. Around him were multiple containers, vials, and tools, all of which having labels in another language. As Steve tried to read them, spots danced in front of his eyes, warning him to stop putting in too much effort. He looked around the rest of the room, his slate-blue eyes landing on a person standing in the corner of the room-next to the entrance-leaning on the crystal support beam. They were looking down, their blonde hair keeping him from seeing their eyes.

Assuming that the person didn't see him, Steve sat up so that he could walk away. Without warning, they looked up at him with a pair of intelligent blue eyes; his blood ran cold. This person wasn't human, that was for sure. Pointed ears replaced rounded ones on the side of their head, and their slitted eyes blinked in surprise and confusion at Steve.

He quickly reacted by trying his best to get away from him, failing greatly. The creature noticed that he was trying to get away and said something softly in a language that he had never heard before, putting his hand up in a gesture of surrender in an obvious attempt to comfort him. Ignoring him, Steve tried harder to get away, slipping one leg over the side of the bed as he began to stand up. Before he knew it, the creature had gotten to him across the room at an inhuman speed, and was holding him in his arms so that he didn't fall.

"Let go," Steve growled, pushing his hand against their chest.

The person did not, and instead chose to slowly and gently sit him back down onto the bed, making sure to not hurt him.

"I'm sorry," the creature spoke-this time in English-greatly surprising Steve. "I am sorry if I frightened you. I do not wish to hurt you. However, you are in no condition to walk. Please refrain from trying to do so until you have healed."

His eyes widened, staring into his big blue eyes. "Y-you . . ."

He smiled kindly. "Can speak English? Yes, indeed I can. Anyway, are you alright? Do you need anything?"

"How did I get here?"

The young man shrugged his shoulders. "To be honest, I have no idea. A friend of mine and I found you in the woods," he answered, pointing behind him with his thumb. "You ran off, and when I eventually found you, you collapsed in my arms. Then we brought you here and treated you."

"Where is 'here'?"

He looked at the water. "Rutela Dam. You're very (Spiderman) far from home."

"'Far from . . .'?" His eyes widened as he noticed what the creature in front of him was wearing. "Get away!"

He scrambled to get away from him, but he just stared at him calmly and stayed put, watching as Steve tried in vain to escape.

"Yes, I am the person that you came across the other day; 'Raziel, as your comrades call me. However, seeing as that we are not engaged in battle right now, I have no need nor desire to harm you. In fact, I was never eager to fight you in the first place," he said calmly, his blue eyes unwavering.

"What . . . how . . . ?" Steve stuttered, trying to come up with something to say.

"I am not heartless," he exclaimed, crossing his arms. "I intend to take you back to earth once you heal well enough to travel. This would mean that you have to cooperate in return, though."

"How so?" he asked coldly.

"You would not attack me or any other people unless I tell you that it is alright, which is very unlikely. I'm not saying that you would follow my every word, but I know this land like the back of my hand, so if you plan on getting home alive, I suggest that you take my advice."

"When will you get me back home?"

"Once you can walk without much assistance-that, and when you can defend yourself-we will depart for earth."

"How do I know if I can trust you?"

He blinked. "That is up to you, not me," he answered, picking up a small satchel on the table. "I'm Link, by the way."

"Steve."

Link put the satchel on the edge of the bed. "This is something that my friend dropped off for you. It has an extra change of clothes and other such things in it; you can change into them, if you want to."

Steve nodded and took the satchel into his hands, looking up at Link.

"I'll go over here," he exclaimed, going behind one of the pillars and looking out at the water to avoid see him getting changed.

Once he was done getting changed into the strange clothes, he tried his best to stand on his own. At first, he failed, but after a little bit more effort, he was able to get over the pain in his left ankle and stand up on his own. Putting the satchel on, he spared a glance at the stuff around him. Just like before, he didn't understand any of the labels, but he still tried to read it. Even if it was in english, judging by how Link had originally spoken to him in another language, he highly doubted that he would be able to know what the words meant.

Sighing, he made his way out, shifting uncomfortably in the clothes. It wasn't that they were itchy or anything like that, but he just wasn't used to wearing garb that complex. Sure, he may have been in a war in the 1940s, but that didn't mean that the standard uniforms were like this.

Link turned towards him. "So you can walk . . ." he muttered under his breath. "Anyway, we should get you back home," he exclaimed, walking to a staircase that had been behind the small room. "It'll take us a day to get there, at the least."

"What do you mean?"

"Well . . . I don't know how to explain it. You'll see when we get there."

Steve trailed behind him, thinking about what he was going to do if worse came to worse. Link was smaller than him, but when he knew him as Raziel, he knew quite well that this was used by him as a weapon rather than a restriction. It also didn't help that he was most likely from this place, meaning that he had the advantage if he tried to run away from him. The other thing that bothered him was what he was, exactly. He was obviously not human, but Thor had mentioned had mentioned before that it could be possible that Raziel was from Asgard, so Steve began to assume (and hope) that Link was from Alfheim; or something like that.

The thought of Thor slapped him in the face with realization. His teammates! Did they know where he was? If he was alright? What if they thought he was dead?! He would never forgive himself, if that was the case!

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" Link asked.

Steve noticed that they had reached the bottom of the stairs. "Yes, I'm fine," he answered him, walking past him. "I just got lost in thought."

Link mumbled something behind him, but it was lost in his ears. Before he could get any further, he felt two hands on his shoulders. He stood still, surprised by him touching him again.

"Not to offend you, or anything of that sort," Link said from behind him. "But, it would seem that you are going in the wrong direction."

His eyes blinked in confusion and embarrassment.

"That is the place that we are going to pass through," he told him, releasing one of his shoulders so that he could point at a glowing structure about a hundred yards away. "The people there are called Zora. Do not be alarmed by their appearance; they are awfully kind, once you get to know them." He let go of his other shoulder and began to walk in front of him. "If they greet you, try to return such, okay?"

Steve nodded. "Alright."

Link turned around and began making his way to the palace-like structure ahead of them. As they got closer, he realized how large it was; in fact, it was quite beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that he believed that even someone as intelligent as Tony wouldn't be able to begin to imagine a place of such elegance.

Supporting the whole entire structure were glowing columns, many parts of them carved into shapes that looked oddly like creatures and shells that one would find at the bottom of an ocean. A few of these columns held domes of various sizes, though depending on where they were defined if they were the same size or not. The largest dome that he could see was close to the center of the wide raised platform that looked like a very big fish. Now that he thought about it, it looked like one of the fish statues in Japan; what were they called? Koi? Yes, it looked like a giant koi fish; it even had the large tail to prove such (the sad part is that you can by koi at PetSmart). Other than that, Steve could see that there were multiple small waterfalls pouring from the sides of the platforms and into the wide river below.

The forms of tall people milled around the place, some standing next to the waterfalls, while others walked around and socialized with each other.

Wait . . . those aren't people . . . They're . . .

"What the . . ." he trailed off out of surprise.

Link turned around, glancing at him. "Those are Zora," he explained. "They won't harm you, as I said before. If you want, you can wear your cloak so that you don't have to make direct eye contact."

Steve swallowed, pulling the dark navy hood over his head. His clothes weren't exactly like Link's, much to his bewilderment. His tunic was a dark shade of cool grey, while his aforementioned cloak was navy blue. His trousers-unlike Link's-were grey, and his boots were a darker shade of brown leather. His belts had a similar coloration to his boots, but none of them had a scabbard or holster for a weapon. The only weapons that he had were in his bag, and there were only two: a knife and some small stick that was brown and black, with odd designs on it (sweety, no); that, and the tattered remains of his suit. He had an under shirt, but it was a pale grey-only a little brighter than his pants.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Okay." Steve took another step forward, looking at him just to make sure that he wasn't going to try anything. Link didn't, and he merely took the lead and started to make his way down a bridge made out of the same glowing material as the rest of the place. Following him hesitantly, his eyes darted around to see if anything out of the ordinary would happen.

The "Zora" creatures around him were two or three feet taller than him (seriously, has anyone noticed how freaking tall they are?), and looked a lot like fish; hell, if he looked at their ribs he could see gills. They had webbed hands with fingernails, but he could tell by the metal and blue jewelry that they wore that they had little to no need for them. Some of them glanced at him with their slitted amber eyes, but quickly brushed it off and continued on with their day. All of them had heads that were shaped like a fish; one of the most notable ones was an older, wrinkly, and green Zora that had a head shaped like a stingray, though he doubted that he could actually sting him. Then he noticed the females. They didn't wear tops (nosebleed activated), but it wasn't like they exactly had anything to show. Yes, they had breasts, but they lacked . . . well, something.

The warriors (he could easily tell which Zora were fighters) had breastplates that had different patterns that he guessed were used to define different genders. Each one held a weapon in there hand, most of which being shining spears that, much like the rest of the jewelry there, had small sapphires braided into the metals. Two soldiers-who were standing in front of a tall staircase-had spears that had a crescent shape as the spearhead part. One of them-a solid black and pure white Zora-took notice of them and waved, flashing them a toothy smile. Both him and Link waved back, the latter shouting something in another language.

The black Zora asked Link a question, smiling big as he pointed a thumb in the direction of the stairs.

He replied, waving a hand dismissively at his expense.

The Zora laughed, then seemed to agree with him in the same dialect. He then pointed at the platform below the and said something simply, like it was nothing. The Alf nodded and thanked him before beckoning for Steve to follow him, walking down a different staircase that lead to where the Zora had been pointing.

When they made it down the stairs, a remarkably tall, red and white Zora was waiting for them at the bottom. Unlike the rest of the Zora, he had a sword sheathed at his side, while he had a ruffled 17th century tie around his neck, pinned with a small blue gem. A metal collar around his neck that held it in place, along with a navy blue sash that had a small symbol on it that went from his collarbone to his hip, and then around his back. Around his waist was a metal belt with intricate designs and gems. On his shoulders were two metal plates with the same design as his sash, and on his head was a small metal crown with a teardrop shaped pearl at the front and a feather in the back. Unlike the other Zora, he his head was shaped like a shark's (yes, I did have to look him up).

"Greetings, friend!" he said happily, patting Link on the head. "I see that our guest is awake!" He looked at Steve, then dipped his head out of respect. "Hello! I'm Prince Sidon of the Zora, and you are?"

That would explain the clothes. "I'm Steve." (Glorious introduction; you deserve a Nobel Peace Prize for that.)

"Nice to meet you, Steve!" he responded, shaking his hand quickly. "I wish you luck in your journey back home."

The soldier glanced at Link, who merely shrugged discreetly, and looked back at Sidon. "Sorry to leave so suddenly, Sidon," he apologised, having to crane his neck to look him in the eye.

"Oh, it's alright! As you said before: I need to spare some time for practice in my role. Anyway, the weather is looking well today, so I recommend that you get a move on before it turns sour again."

He nodded and made his way for the nearest exit (which happened to open up to a long bridge over a waterfall), him trailing behind the Alf.

"Sayonara! Good luck!" the prince shouted after them excitedly.

"Are you and Prince Sidon dating?" Steve asked, walking beside Link.

He glanced at him, raising a caramel eyebrow. "No."

"Sorry, I was just curious because of him patting you on the head."

He smiled at him in the same way that a parent would smile at a child when they didn't get a joke because they were too young (we've all been there). "You see, the people here use physical contact to express affection; even when it comes to friends. Different races have different ways of doing such, though. The Zora happen to be very kind and inviting, so there form of showing affection can vary from hugs, pats, and holding hands. However, these actions are usually different, depending on the gender and relationship of the people."

"Hmm . . . interesting . . ." he exclaimed, thinking a bit about it until he noticed where they were. "What's this place for?"

After walking a bit down the path, they had approached a small camp, though it looked like the remains of a fire and a few meals were left unkempt around the edges. Next to them was a tall cut out of the rocky hill that they had just walked past that had words in the same language from earlier carved into it.

"Oh, this? Just an enemy outpost," Link answered, his voice remaining neutral.

"'Enemy outpost'? Isn't that dangerous?"

He shook his head. "Yes, but Sidon and I dealt with the monsters threatening us earlier."

"Monsters?"

"This land is plagued by monsters, yes," he confirmed, nodding. "I don't know how much you remember of last night, but you had your own encounter with them."

". . . You mean . . . Do you mean those lizard creatures?" Steve asked, confusion spilling into his voice.

"Indeed; those are called lizalfos. They are a type of monster that usually settle around bodies of water, and-unlike most species of monsters-eat almost anything they can find: insects, wildlife, fish, people. Because of this, the Zora naturally have a personal grudge against them."

"There are more types of monster?" he asked incredulously.

"Of course; lizalfos aren't anywhere near being the most dangerous one," he answered, shrugging. "They can most definitely ruin your day, though."

Steve stared at him for a few seconds. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen; eighteen by March."

". . . Really?!"

He followed the strange teenage Alf to a small cabin-like building at the side of the path. Calling it a building was a bit too generous, as it was a wood structure with cloth walls. At the top of the building was an oddly designed tower, the very end resembling a masked figure. Around the building, other Alves roamed around in clothing that had horseshoes and horse-head embroidery on it; one man-who was obviously a traveler due to his normal tunic-was sitting at a table on the outside patio, sipping something from a mug. It had taken them a few hours to get there from where the Zora lived, so it was well into the middle hours of the morning. Even so, the man looked like he had been dragged out of bed; he had dark bags under his eyes (I am personally offended by that, Cap).

"Follow me," Link advised him, making a beeline for the small opening at the front. A man that was sitting at a small desk in the common attire was fiddling with his feather and quill pen, scribbling down random things on his paper.

He looked up and noticed that they were standing there; he smiled, greeting them in the foreign language. His Alf friend replied cheerfully to one of the man's questions, then proceeded to ask a question of his own in a polite tone. The man nodded, turned the page of the book in front of him, and wrote down a few words quickly before turning around and asking a little girl standing to the side of his workspace for something. She nodded excitedly, then ran off to a teenage girl that was watching some of the horses under the side overhang of the building while they munched on some oats. The girl shouted a few words breathlessly, then took off behind the place. The teenager she had talked to's eyes hovered over Link and then snapped to a chocolate brown horse staring at him. She quickly got it out of the small stable, effortlessly got its riding tack on, and then led it to where they were. Before she returned to what she had been doing, she smiled and greeted both of them. He waved.

Oh . . . it's a stable . . .

Link stated what he assumed was a "thank you," and then took the horse's reigns in his hands.

"This is Epona," he explained, patting the lovely clydsdale on the muzzle, earning a satisfied rumble. "Epona, this is Steve."

Epona, eh? Like the celtic goddess.

He took the soldier's hand, guiding it gently towards her nostrils. Steve had to admit, he was a bit scared of horses, but only because they were very sensitive animals with very strong teeth and bodies; point being, you did not want to lock horns with one (big fluffy unicorns).

Just like he had assumed, she sniffed his hand before snorting, inspecting him with her eyes rather than just her sense of smell. When Epona was done sizing him up with her brown eyes, she decided that he wasn't a threat and let him pet her on her forehead.

"She's quite a beautiful horse," he complimented.

The horse in question pulled away, tossing her mane, as if to agree with that.

"Thank you," Link returned. "But-on with the journey-we need to get going if we want to get you home by dusk." He slipped his foot into one of the stirrups, hoisted himself up easily, grabbed the reigns, and held his hand out for Steve. "Epona is probably not going to like having another passenger, but I'm sure that a few apples will persuade her otherwise."

Fury's POV

The director paced nervously around the room, though his infamous poker-face concealed any other sign of panic. The reason for his displeasure? Well, the day before, four out of the five Avengers that he had sent to deal with something-one of which being unconscious-had returned to him with nothing but scrapes, scratches, bruises, a bit of blood, and bad news. He wanted to get mad at them. He wanted to flip the tables over. He wanted to shout and scold them like they were children who had broken a window playing baseball, but their torn and guilty faces when they returned had made all of his anger melt away into a tense blob of doubt. Fury remembered the exchange:

"Alright, you're back. Rogers, mission report-"

The sound of metal hitting metal rang out through the white room as a red-white-and-blue shield was dropped unceremoniously in front of him; it almost glared at him with blame. If inanimate objects had hands, he was sure that this one would be pointing at him with an unsaid accusation.

"He's gone," Clint murmured dejectedly.

"What do you mean, 'he's gone'?" Fury demanded, his brow furrowing.

"The assassins ambushed us and almost destroyed our Midgardian vehicle," Thor explained, looking at the ground. "Towards the end of the battle, Sir Rogers was attacked, and then he and our enemies disappeared. All that was left was some of his blood and his weapon."

"Where is he now?"

Natasha turned towards him, a clear glare on her face. "We don't have that information."

"How did they dissapear?"

"We don't have that information."

"Do you know if he is still alive?"

"We don't have that information."

He sighed, trying to regain his composure. "You mean to tell me that one of this planet's most powerful men vanished without a trace-along with our enemies-and you 'don't know'?"

"Yes, sir."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get it through his head. ". . . Get to work trying to find him, then. Dr Banner's in the lab, if you need his assistance."

"Yes, sir."

So far, none of them had been able to come up with any information concerning the whereabouts of their missing team member, meaning that his case was sure to run cold after at least a week if they found nothing. At the remains of the scuffle-just as Thor had said-there was nothing but a bit of blood, a damaged van, and a small piece of paper that was written in another language in the place where Rogers had disappeared. From what the others had told him, that note was not there when they left; it had been planted there by someone. It did little good, though; even though Banner had worked his ass off trying to figure out what it said, he couldn't find a single alphabetical system that matched it. The closest thing was Japanese, but even that was inaccurate. (If you know a few Hiragana characters, you can actually see that they look oddly similar to BotW era hylian.)

At the moment, Fury was burning a path in the floor from walking in the same place in the same way waiting for any updates on their current situation. Agent Hill was standing next to the door-as per usual-and was staring blankly at him, though just a small bit of worry slipped into her eyes.

"Director Fury, sir, perhaps further investigating Raziel will calm you. In fact, it could even be possible that Raziel has a link (cough) to Captain America's disappearance."

He stopped dead in his tracks, looking at her. "Where is Stark?"

"Top floor."

Fury flew out the door quickly; not running, but he was definitely speed-walking. When he got in the elevator, he immediately pressed the highest button and stared forward at the door. With a quiet Ding! the elevator doors parted, showing him the small room at the very top of Stark Tower. The original owner of the architectural beauty-who was sitting on the couch-turned his head around lazily to see what the commotion was about.

"Hi, Fury. Nice to see you," he greeted sarcastically, chugging down the contents of a shot glass.

"Mr Stark, I suggest that you stop drinking so much; it will not solve your problems," he grumbled, glaring at him.

"Nah, this isn't whisky or alcohol," the playboy muttered, getting up and walking to the bar. "Pepper told me not to drink as much, so this is just water." He sighed, obviously conflicted with this. "Anyway, what do you want?"

Fury's eye narrowed at him, earning an unamused glance. "Where are the files on Raziel?"

He rolled his eyes, then began to dig under the counter for something; he found it, and threw the file down on the stainless steel surface. "There."

"Why is this information up here, rather than in Dr Banner's lab?"

Tony shrugged. "I was looking at them last night; I was trying to figure some things out," he deadpanned, filling up his glass with tap water.

The director sighed in annoyance, but still picked up the file and opened it up; two pages. Each one of them had very little helpful information:

"Subject name: Unknown

"Given name: Raziel

"Species: Unknown

"Background: Unknown

"Age: Suspected to be in the mid-teens

"Gender: Most likely male

"Battle Analysis: Raziel has only appeared once, seemingly to deal with the unknown assassins that have been attacking the people of Manhattan and New York. He/She seems to be good with weapons, as Raziel has already nearly bested the Avengers in combat. However, in the encounter between the Avengers and Raziel, he/she was greatly injured, and it is under speculation that Raziel broke a few ribs and maybe one of his arms.

"Lab Analysis: Upon further investigation, it has been concluded that Raziel is not human, and his actual species remains unknown. Although the subject appears to look like a human, due to the lack of facial recognition (subject has not revealed their physical identity), there is no way to see what features the subject has, other than that of their clothing and body.

"Conclusion: Raziel is of a potentially cold case, and will need to be confronted in more cases in order to properly receive identification. It is suspected that the subject could be someone that the assassins are trying to put away with."

The other page was nothing but blurry pictures, meaning that it was-as the file said-a case that could possibly run cold. However, this was the closest thing to a lead that they had on Steve, so he was going to have to make do with what he had.

"Come on, Stark," he commanded, pressing the button to get the elevator to open.

"Where are we going?"

"The lab."

Tony poured out the rest of the water, then walked around the counter to stand next to him. "For what?"

". . . Data."

Link's POV

"Come on, Steve," he urged, walking up the path. The human in question was following behind him, breathing like a fish out of water from the strain of walking up the steep hill. No travelers even came there, making this area secluded and only accessible to Link and Zelda; well, it was before he appeared. Link couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for Steve's struggle to climb the hill-he was injured, after all-but he was going to have to get on his feet quickly if he wanted to survive.

"I'm . . . coming . . ." he breathed, trying to catch up with him. "Tell me . . . why we can't . . . just . . . use Epona?"

The horse that was walking next to him snorted, as if to disagree with such. She stamped her hooves and looked at Link with a look that said: "Why do I have to deal with the stupid human?"

He hushed her. "It would put too much strain on her, and a grumpy Epona is something that you do not want to witness."

Steve managed to fall in beside him, though he still looked a bit exhausted from it. ". . . Fine . . . When will we get there?" he asked, shielding his eyes with his hand as he looked up at the sky.

Link looked up. "About one more minute. Are you alright? I could carry you, if you want."

The human smiled, probably finding such an offer to be amusing. "No, thank you; I could do this all day (*smug smile*)."

He nodded. "Okay . . . if you say so."

Epona trotted up the rest of the way, looking down at them.

"Come on; what's taking you so long?" she seemed to be taunting.

Glaring at her, he pulled himself up the hill and took his place next to her. He held his hand out for Steve, who gratefully took it. Once he was able to get up, he looked around at the plateau.

"Where are we? This isn't my home," he exclaimed, a panicked edge sharpening his slate colored eyes.

"This," Link began to answer, gesturing around him, "is the Great Plateau. We're going to have to wait about-" he looked up, "-an hour until I can get you back to earth."

"Why would we have to wait?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "You'll see."

"Please tell me."

"I'm sorry, but even I am forbidden to tell you such," he apologised, then looked warily in each direction before leaning forward and whispering: "You never know who's ears are listening."

His eyes widened. "You mean the assassins," he whispered.

He nodded. "If you don't make me tell you about the way to get you home, I'll tell you about them."

Steve's eyes were the size of rupees, which were about the size of the palm of someone's hand. "Really?"

"Yes; you deserve to know."

Link looked around again, then flicked his hand in a "Come hither," gesture. "Come, we need to get to the cabin."

The small hylian flipped through the Old Man-no, King Rhoam's-journal, his eyes flicking over the words quickly. In truth, he had already read the diary hundreds of times over, but there wasn't much to do on the Great Plateau. He had already showed Zelda the book, but she told him to leave it at his old cabin; she said it was like "taking a body out of it's grave and moving it just for pleasure". Although the princess wanted to keep it, she swallowed down her grievances and left it with him, to rest forever.

"What are you reading?" Steve asked from the old bed he was sitting on.

Link looked up at him from the rickety table. "Just the diary of the man that used to live here."

"Oh . . . I didn't see anyone else here."

"Well, he died not too long ago."

"May he rest in peace, then," he said softly.

He smiled. "We'll probably pass by his grave on the way to earth. He was very kind, I must admit."

"What was his name?"

The hylian hesitated. ". . . Rhoam."

"Rhoam?"

"Yes, Rhoam."

"How did he die?"

"Old age," he lied, though he showed no signs of such.

"Hmm . . ." Steve hummed, his slate-colored eyes looking around the small, makeshift cabin. "So, could you tell me about these assassins, please?"

"Of course; which question do you wish for me to answer first?"

"How about . . . what are they called?"

"The Yiga."

"What's their history?"

". . . They used to be part of a tribe called the Sheikah. They were the trusted advisors of the royal family here, but they started messing with things that they shouldn't have been. Due to this, people started to fear them, which eventually pushed the king at the time to banish them from court and their practices. Most of the Sheikah were content with this, however, some of them felt so bitter and betrayed that they pledged allegiance to a demon. Their goal is to kill in order to resurrect him."

His eyebrows shot up, making too little dirty blonde arches over his eyes. "That wasn't what I expected, but . . . what do they have to with you?"

"In order to fully resurrect their master, the Yiga require a-er sacrifice. This sacrifice requires a person who has a certain holy power-and pure blood-and I happen to be one of those people. Defeating me would get their job half done," Link answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"What kind of holy power? Is it something that you obtained?"

"No, when they search for someone with this 'holy power,' that person is usually born with it. Even if I did obtain it, I would have to go through a series of trials that require me to give up a lot of what I have. Not that I wouldn't be willing, but I was saved a bit of a longer journey."

"How long have they been up to this?"

"Around ten thousand years."

He choked on nothing, coughing to clear his throat. At first, he was alarmed, but soon realized that he had just been surprised by the question; he was not in medical danger.

"That long?"

Link nodded, his expression remaining blank. "Yes, they have plagued Hyrule for that many years, unfortunately. If I may, I would like to ask you if you want to depart now."

Yet again, his eyes were the size of rupees. "You mean . . . I can go home now?"

"Of course," he answered, standing up. "It will take us around ten minutes to get there on horseback."

"We aren't going to walk?"

He shook his head. "No. It will be cold, though, so I'll lend you a doublet," he exclaimed, handing him the garment.

"Where did you get this from?" he asked, taking it into his hands and inspecting it.

"I have my ways," he answered smuggly, his lips tugging upwards a bit. "Anyway, put that on quickly."

"Do I need to take off my other clothes?"

"I wouldn't recommend it, but earth is warmer, so you can just slip it off when we get there."

"Alright," Steve answered, pulling it over his head before putting his satchel back on. "I'm ready when you are."

Link nodded to confirm that he was, then walked out and whistled for Epona. The chocolatey mare had been grazing nearby, so when she heard him, she wasted no time in galloping to his side.

"Let's go, Epona," he stated, throwing her an apple.

She caught it with ease and devoured it, then looked at him.

"Where are we going?"

Flakes of snow stung his cheeks, making his face look flushed. Mount Hylia was a very cold place; not nearly as cold as Hebra, but the spirits of those who had died during the Calamity-and every other war in Hyrule's history, actually-were told to wander there aimlessly, making the howling wind as bitter as their departed souls. As a person who was aware of the fact that he was an incarnation of a hero, he was not quick to argue with something like that. The place had such an eerie sadness over it that it made him want to fall into despair.

Epona whinied when a large snowball rolled down the mountain, narrowly missing them by a few inches. He patted her on the side of the neck. "I-I-It's okay, g-girl," he coaxed, though his reward was a mouthful of snow rather than a comforted horse. She shook her mane-similar to a dog-and pushed on, careful to not become so startled that she bucked.

Steve squeezed his waist tighter, making the small hylian a bit nauseous. "H-H-How m-much f-f-f-farther?" he asked, his teeth clacking together.

"A-About f-f-five more m-minutes," he answered through his teeth, trying to redirect his steed to an easier route. He spurred her, earning a surprised nicker and a change in pace. "Th-there!" he told her, pointing over her bulk at King Rhoam's gravestone. She rumbled determinedly, galloping faster and stronger through the ruthless blizzard.

". . . C-c-cold," the human whimpered behind him, his forehead pushing against his back. His arms loosened around him.

"S-Steve?" Link turned around, failing to see his face. "S-S-Steve, are y-you . . . alr-right?"

He looked up at him, his lips the color of his tunic. He went limp again, and this time he was sure that he was unconscious.

"N-No! S-S-Stay with m-me, S-S-S-Steve!" he begged, pulling one of his arms over his shoulders. Hypothermia was not going to do his wounds any favors. "W-Wake up!"

Epona, who sensed the urgency in his voice (something that he rarely possessed), dug her hooves deep into the snow, trudging up the mountain until she got to the top. Link took the human into his arms, looking at her with scared eyes. "G-Go home; be c-c-careful!" he commanded.

The horse whinnied nervously. "What about you?"

"I-I'll be f-f-fine! I just need to g-g-get him home! Please!"

She hesitated, but loyally dipped her head and trotted down the hill, her hooves occasionally slipping on the ice. Epona looked back at him one more time, her brown eyes tracing over him warily. "Be safe."

The young hylian stumbled around, searching for a place to go. He knew where he was; Long Island Sound, but that did not help his situation. Where should he go? Why was Steve so heavy? What should he do? The thoughts swam around in his mind, a few of them surfacing before sinking again.

He shifted his position, the human in his arms groaning in pain at the action.

"Steve, wake up, please."

He didn't wake up.

Swallowing his frustration, Link's cerulean blue eyes darted around the woods for an option. None came, but he considered walking forward until he came to the edge of the trees, then walking along the outskirts to see if he could find a path. Nodding in satisfaction, he decided to do such. Whether it would do him any good or not, he did not know, but it was worth a try.

Link weaved his way through many of the trees that towered over him, looking at the branches and leaves to see what kind they were to entertain and calm himself. Every once in a while, he would have to reposition the man in his arms in order to give his arms some rest. Although everything seemed quiet-other than the occasional sound of owls or crickets-he was still ready and alert; he was prepared for an attack. It was quite unlikely that he would be attacked there, but the Yiga could be surprising sometimes (not to mention obnoxious).

The snap of a twig on his right made him freeze in his tracks. Not knowing what-or who-was watching him or approaching, he dragged Steve behind a large, rotting oak and hid in the partially hollowed-out trunk. Through one of the holes in the bark-probably done by a woodpecker, if he had to guess-he could make out the shape of two people: a woman and a broad-shouldered man.

"Did you hear something, Thor?" the woman asked, her voice hushed to a whisper.

". . . Yes, I think it came from that direction," the man murmured back, his voice nothing but a low rumble. However, that wasn't Link's focus; the man was pointing in his direction. "Should we call in Sir Stark and Sir Barton?"

". . . You call them; I'll look around for the source of the noise."

His blood ran cold as he looked back down at Steve, who seemed to be nowhere close to awakening. He thought of a few words in Hylian Tongue that would probably make Zelda feed him a frog, but he got over it quickly and darted away. She hadn't seen him (yet), but she definitely heard him. How did he know this? Simple: the sound of feet crunching leaves at a fast pace grabbed his attention.

"Thor! It's Raziel!" she shouted, only to keep pursuing him.

Given the proper motivation he needed, Link ran faster, trying his best to avoid her. He was faster than most of his opponents-and he had already fought this woman before, so he knew that she was slower than him-but with the added weight of Steve, he was barely ahead of her. He knew he was in trouble when he felt a throwing knife narrowly miss his foot.

"I see him!" a male voice shouted from somewhere ahead. Link took a sharp turn to the left-almost dropping the human-and picked up the pace, his lungs practically screaming for air. Before he could get any farther, though, he felt the familiar pain of something slamming into his side, sending him into a pine tree. He got up quickly, grabbing Steve-who he had let go of when he was sent flying-and ran away again, his ribs greatly disagreeing to the arrangement.

"He's carrying someone!" the male voice shouted again, accompanied by the loud Thump! of a projectile hitting a tree.

Good, it missed me-

Right on cue, the hammer crashed into him again, forcing him to stop and leave Steve on the ground near him in order to defend himself. Link drew the Master Sword, ignoring the misery that was his chest. He was going to fight forever, if he needed to.

Thor's POV

He watched with amusement and awe as the person picked themself off the ground again, taking on a defensive stance as they drew their weapon. Raziel had returned, so it seemed.

Catching Mjolnir, the god smirked a bit, but realization made him think otherwise; who was Raziel carrying? He was sure that he could see a limp figure lying among the leaves behind him; perhaps it was someone that was injured. If so, Thor was prepared to help a person or kill them; whichever became a priority first.

An arrow sailed in the air, making Raziel bat it away. Clint grumbled something over the earpiece, then decided to talk for all of them to hear. "You're going to have to distract him."

"How so?" Lady Natasha asked.

"Keep him busy; find an opening, and make sure it stays open. I need enough room to get a hit on him, okay?"

"Gotcha," Tony muttered. The playboy charged the person, but Raziel merely grabbed him by his metallic wrists and planted their feet, making it to where they didn't move. Raziel flung him in the other direction, but Tony managed to veer out of the way of a tree just in time.

Thor rolled his eyes; wow, they really knew nothing. He decided to have a bat at it, and ran at him, swinging his hammer violently in order to smash them. Raziel bobbed and weaved, evading the strike and slashing with his sword. The god felt it graze his arm.

"Why, you-!"

Nat ran past him and stabbed with her knife, barely missing. Now cornered against a tree with a person behind them, Raziel had nowhere to go, unless he ditched them. Natasha tried again, slicing at the their arms. Raziel caught the blade in the space between the crossguard and blade of the sword, making it to where they were wedged together.

Sir Barton, make haste!

Clint did not disappoint, and in a few seconds, a tranquiliser dart was implanted in Raziel's chest. Their enemy gasped, clutching the wound as blood seeped through his tunic.

"You don't like that, eh?" Tony asked, walking up beside him. "A shot through the lungs isn't that comfortable, now is it?"

Raziel reacted to this in a very unexpected way: he lunged at the playboy, punching him so hard in the face that his mask became dented.

"Ow!" he shouted. "You broke my nose!" Tony lunged and grabbed onto Raziel's arm, the loud noise of a bone breaking echoing in the woods. Raziel tried to pull away from him, but he literally had an iron grip. "Hold still!"

"Stark . . ." Nat warned to deaf ears, putting a hand on his armored shoulder.

The man in question let go of his broken upper arm, but replaced it with the collar of their tunic. Thor was sure that they would nearly be nose-to-nose if they were any closer. "God dammit, if you don't stop squirming I'll put you out of your misery!"

Instead of heeding his warning, Raziel slashed at his stomach. Tony jumped back, but the elegant blade ripped through his strong suit like it was tin foil, leaving it gnarled around a shallow cut in his gut. He backed up as much as he could, standing right next to the unmoving person next to him. Blood glistened on his sword.

He staggered, his hand hovering over the injury. "You . . . how . . . ?"

Another arrow sailed in the air, but Raziel batted it away again, not even turning towards it; he seemed more interested in Stark at the moment.

Thor's gaze hardened; even Nat seemed shocked by how he had performed such a feit.

"Surrender!" he bellowed, pointing his hammer at Raziel. "We have an archer! Make another foul move," the god began, glancing in Clint's direction, "and your friend here will become a pin-cushion!"

Raziel didn't seem too overjoyed by this plan, as he didn't move a bit.

"Permission to fire?" Clint asked over the earpiece.

"Granted," both Lady Natasha and Sir Stark answered sternly.

Before they could do anything else-except for the agent with arrows, who had already fired-their opponent jumped quickly to shield his companion with his body, the arrows embedding themselves in his back. He showed no sign of pain, but the person he was protecting stirred, their arms moving.

He looks vaguely like a porcupine, Thor observed, looking at the shafts jutting out of the back of his ribs.

The strange man sat up, a navy hood pulled over his head; it looked similar to Raziel's, but this man's was a darker shade, longer, and had less distinct designs on it. The rest of his clothes-also differing from Raziel's-were darker and of muted colors; even the leather parts of his ensemble were a darker shade.

"Tony?!" the man asked, his voice astonished yet relieved. "What happened to you? Are you okay?"

"Who-" Tony's voice caught in his throat. "Steve?! What the hell are you doing with . . . with him?" All eyes were on Raziel, who patiently sat on his knees next to Steve. Despite being next to the possible enemy, the soldier looked relaxed and comfortable, as if he was not even a slight threat.

He pulled off his hood, revealing that he was perfectly fine, other than his lips being a tad pale. "He saved me. What, you really think I just walked up to the first person I saw?"

Nat looked like she was trying to not say "Yes," but Thor spoke before she got the chance. "Where have you been? What happened to you?"

"I-I'm not sure . . ." Steve looked at Raziel, just noticing his injuries. "What did you do to him?"

"What did we do to him?" Clint asked, walking out from the shadows of the tall trees. "Look what he did to Tony!"

He raised an eyebrow. "He didn't shoot him!"

"He broke my nose, and he cut my armor to bits," the playboy interjected.

"And you broke his arm, Clint shot him in the back and one of his lungs, and Thor hit him twice with Mjolnir," Nat added, counting the attacks with her fingers. "I helped with the second action, though, to be fair."

Steve sat up, Raziel placing a hand on his arm in order to help him. "Just . . . don't attack him again."

"Why? He won't talk to us! What was he going to do with you; drop you and run?" Tony pressed.

"You carried me?" Raziel's hood twitched, most likely showing that he was nodding. "Thanks, kid."

"'Kid'?!"

Raziel lifted his right arm-the one that was not broken-and pulled his hood off, revealing the face of an alf.

"I am the one that you have called 'Raziel'," he said, his beautifully piercing blue eyes watching them, "but, please; just call me Link."

End of 3rd Chapter

Surprised? That one was a lot longer than most of my other chapters; I'm starting to be proud of myself! I feel like I updated this just yesterday! I'm getting better at update speeds, then, aren't I? Btw, the newest chapter of We Will Prevail is going to be posted in a little while (maybe another week or so), so just prepare yourself for something weird. Cliffhangers help with leverage and ideas for a new chapters, so I may take a while. Sayonara!