A/N: I own nothing except a copy of this great game.

The return from the Faron Woods was uneventful. It did not take long for the Hyrulian forces and the Ravagers to scavenge the forest for any remaining elements of evil, and subsequently cleanse them. Impa had a feeling that the forest itself had played a role in making that job so easy. Clearings that had not existed before had materialized, and thick brush cover that would have hidden a Bokoblin scouting party would mysteriously fade away, allowing Ravagers a sneak attack on their sleeping foes. It was a dirty business, which was why she let Ishaka and his men take care of that.

For now, the Sheikah warrior had more important things to worry about. For starters, she would have to return back to the castle in order to report to Elijah that their expedition, for all intents and purposes, was a failure. For while they had seemingly gained themselves an ally and had weakened Cia's grip on the western half of the country, the reality was that their mission was to rescue Princess Zelda, and they had failed in that endeavor.

As for their new ally…

Impa watched as this sorcerer of white light* pranced throughout the camp, graciously tending to any and every soldier that needed her assistance. She seemed very much to enjoy talking to the individual men and women that were fighting in the Hyrulian army, and it wasn't long before the Ravagers were treating her…well, not exactly like an insider, but certainly not as someone to be feared. Impa was not surprised. The girl had a strangely calming effect to her, and an infectious smile that seemed to shine through the darkness that was in front of them these trying days.

But Impa was not a fool. She could see that there was something off in the girl's eyes whenever she smiled. Whenever one asked her about Cia, she would answer with a sort of apologetic grin, but her eyes were melancholy and…hurt? Something that this Cia had done was causing Lana great pain, and Impa resolved to find this information out sooner or later. They were at war, after all. Secrets were of no use to her, especially when things were as dire as they were.

And speaking of secrets…

Impa glanced again at Sheik, who was lying down on one of the flowery mushrooms that had sprouted upon this massive tree branch that they were all camped upon, giving the impression that he was sleeping. Again, Impa was no fool. She could tell that he was not asleep. His breathing was still too quick and shallow for someone that was supposedly off in the land of dreams. Subtle turns of the head, so small that even eagles would be hard-pressed to notice, were enough to clue Impa in to the fact that this mysterious Sheik was still watching Link. What was his fixation on the Hero? And was it something to keep an eye on?

All these things and more were on her mind when she heard the sounds of footsteps behind her. She turned, and saw that Ishaka had returned from his latest foray into the woods. His hair was matted slightly, and his beard was a little bit unkempt. It was a good thing that Impa was long-since used to dealing with men who spent many hours in the field doing grunt work. Otherwise, the smell would have been rather unpleasant. Now, the Sheikah warrior just ignored it.

"How did your last foray go, Ishaka?" Impa asked. The Ravager captain chuckled.

"'Twas an easy thin', Sheikah. Th' forest is alive, it is. Th' trees 'elped us fin' an' kill them Bokoblins an' Bulblins nice an' quick." He said.

"That is good to hear. Do you think that the number of enemies is negligible at this point?" She asked. Ishaka nodded.

"Oh, no doubt. They be scatt'r'd at this point." He said. Once again, he had taken out his pipe, as a sort of reward for the hard work he'd put into the day. Impa smiled.

"You need not push yourself so much, Ishaka. I hear reports from some of my captains that you insist on being one of the first men in the expeditionary patrols, and one of the last to go to bed. I cannot fathom the amount of sleep you are getting. It cannot be much." She said. Ishaka shrugged.

"Sleep be fer th' weak, Sheikah. T'ain't like I got nothin' better ta do, anyway."

"Be that as it may, be careful, Ishaka." Impa said. "I would hate to lose a Wulfrah* such as yourself, due to sudden onset narcolepsy." She said. Ishaka smirked.

"I don' know what tha' means, Sheikah, but I guess'n it be a good thin'." He said. He glanced at the camp in front of them. "Time ta 'ead back ta 'yrule, then?"

"Yes." Impa agreed. "By first light we will begin marching back towards the castle, and begin preparations for our next move."

"Which be?"

"An assault on the Valley of the Seers." Impa said.

Impa's mouth went limp, and the pipe fell out of his lips in shock.

"Yeh be jokin'."

"I am not." Impa said. "And since when did you start expressing reservation about an upcoming battle? Are you not usually the one that leads our forces?" She asked. Ishaka reached down and picked up his pipe.

"That be diff'rent, Sheikah." He said. "Th' Valley o' th' Seers? That be a place a' deep an' pow'rful magic. Yeh ain't gonna be dealin' with lightweigh's in there, tha' be fer sure."

"And you feel that having dealt with a King Dodongo and…whatever the Goddesses that spider-like creature was…are lightweights."

"In a manner a' speakin', yeah." Ishaka overturned his pipe, and put in a brand new clump of snuff. He lit it with a match, let it simmer for a few moments, before taking a puff and starting again. "Jes'…be careful abou' tha', Sheikah."

"I know what I am doing." Impa said. "That is why I am returning to the castle to consult with our acting ruler, Lord Elijah Grantham. But for now…" She placed a hand on Ishaka's shoulder. "I need your help."

"Oh?" Ishaka asked. "An' wha' fer?"

"It goes like this…" Impa began.

…

She had checked and double-checked everyone in the camp. The Hyrulians, the Gorons, and even these wonderfully rough-and-tumble folk that called themselves Ravagers. Everyone who had asked for her, she had helped. Usually with a smile and a wink. That was just sort of how she handled things. There was no better feeling than to feel the warmth of healing light leave your fingertips, and then watch as the person you were working wih literally recover in front of you. Sometimes, it was as small as getting their breathing to stabilize, or watching the skin of a deep gash knit itself back together. She found it amazing, but nothing was better than watching her patient's stunned expression as his or her wound healed.

She licked her index finger for friction, and turned the page of her spellbook. It was getting late. She might need to cast a spell of self-healing at this point. She'd been going a long time now, on little sleep and plenty of adrenaline, and now that she felt some degree of safety perhaps it was time for her to take care of her.

"'Scuse me, miss Lana."

Perhaps not.

She turned around, and flinched at first. It was getting dark, and even if he was her ally it was still rather intimidating to see Ishaka loom over her in the gloam. But she recovered quickly, and flashed that same perky grin of hers.

"Hello, mister Yeeshapa! What do you need?"

"It's…it's Ishaka, miss Lana."

"Isn't that what I said?" Lana asked, confusedly. She cocked her head to the side, and then realization hit her. She blushed, and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh Goddess, I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" Ishaka chuckled. In this fading light, it was like watching a bear laugh.

"It be no tr'ble. It be a hard name ta spell an' say."

"Well, now that I have sufficiently embarrassed myself…" Lana grumbled. "How can I help you?" Ishaka gestured to his back, reaching his arm over his shoulder.

"Think I took a coupl'a scrapes in'a las' raid. Can yeh gimme a check-up?"

"Of course!" Lana said. She smiled. "Let's head over away from the rest of the camp. The torches by the edge of the camp are easier to work with, anyway."

Ishaka nodded, and followed her. It was a good thing that it was so dark out and no one was looking at him, because he was utterly failing to conceal his crafty grin.

…

"All right, where is it?" Lana asked. Ishaka was sitting down on the ground, his legs crossed in a butterfly position. Ishaka gestured to his back.

"I hafta take m'coat off, if'n yeh don' mind, miss Lana." He said. "Th' scrapes be under m'shirt."

"That's…that's ok." Lana said. Truthfully, she was a little bit worried about what on earth Ishaka looked like under that duster of his. She had never seen him without the thing, and she knew that he had taken more than a couple of glancing hits on his back.

He took off his duster, and then the light white shirt under it. Lana took a sharp intake of breath.

"Goddesses, Ishaka!"

His back was a veritable mosaic of calluses, scratches, lacerations, cuts and bruises. The cuts and scrapes looked relatively fresh, but the calluses were starting to fade. He had a very broad back, which only made his injuries seem even more numerous.

"T'ain't a pretty pict're, innit miss Lana?" Ishaka asked. By his tone, Lana knew he was smiling. She wasn't sure why.

"This has got to be incredibly painful, Ishaka! Why haven't you been treated sooner?" She asked.

"That's the same question I asked him." Impa said, stepping out of the shadows. Giving a small "eep!" of fright, Lana flinched and turned towards the Sheikah warrior. Impa raised her arms up slowly. "Relax, Lana. I did not mean to scare you."

"She only wanna talk ta ya." Ishaka said. Lana realized that she had been caught like a mouse in a trap between two cats. She pouted a little bit, and then lightly smacked Ishaka upside the head.

"That's not very nice keeping me pinned down, Ishaka." Lana grumbled. She started flipping through her spellbook for the best remedies for skin abrasions, and with a soft humming began to go to work.

"Now that I have gotten you away from the rest of the army, which I imagine is why you were initially so hesitant…" Impa began. "What can you tell us about this Cia? And why does she have such a vendetta against Hyrule?"

"Well…it's kind of a long story…" Lana began.

…

She was pacing the marbled floor now, trying not to feel too nervous. She had never been in a throne room before, and though she knew that she was in no danger the fact that she had to retell her story again made her rather uncomfortable. There was the lady masquerading as Princess Zelda, in case anyone were to barge in and ask questions. There was the kind gentleman who introduced himself as Lord Grantham, but please call me Elijah. There was Impa, leaning against the war map table. Ishaka was leaning against the wall, smoking something of indeterminate origin. Sheik was meditating in the corner. And there was Link…sitting on the ground, his eyes on Lana intently as she began her tale.

"Well…Cia and I…we go back." Lana said. "We're part of a very ancient tribe of sorcerers, an order whose original name I've long forgotten and whose numbers are very, very small." She sighed, tapping her fingers on the spine of her spellbook. "We live deep in the northern forests, far away from the prying eyes of mortals or non-magicians. Our powers can be…scary to those that don't understand, and our order is very much about keeping balance in the world."

"Cia and I grew up under the tutelage of a great and wise wizard. He had been around for ages, and it seemed like he'd been around for forever even when Cia and I were young and barely learning the basics of magic." Lana smiled at the memory. "He was a kind-hearted man, and knew that of all the sorcerers in our clan, Cia and I were destined for greatness. Especially Cia. Something about her, he knew was a great and mighty power. He'd always be watching her performing spells, with that big owl perched on his shoulder, and he was beaming the way a father would for his child. He had no family, and Cia and I were orphans, so I suppose that we became like daughters to him. And Cia was most certainly his favorite."

"Did that bother you?" Lord Grantham asked. Lana shook her head.

"No, no it really didn't. Mostly because he was so nice to me anyway, and I was a realist. I knew that Cia was better than me. She was faster at learning magic, and she could always cast a spell with more power than I could. But she was kind to me as well, and never let me feel like I was never going to amount to anything." She sighed. "As time went on, and we grew older, we started to notice that the old sorcerer was starting to slow down. His shoulders started to hunch over a little bit, his beard whitened, and his face began to wrinkle. I knew that the time was coming for him to pass his role and ascend to…that place beyond. I knew, and Cia knew…but I could tell that she was taking it harder than I was."

"Eventually, he brought us both into this inner sanctum in the forest, far beyond where we had ever gone before. There was…this beautiful crystal ball resting on a pedestal in the center of the clearing, and above it…was the most glorious thing that I have ever seen. The Triforce. I can't even put it in words, it was so pretty. And in that clearing, he named Cia the guardian of the Triforce. She looked so proud, and I couldn't help but feel nothing but joy for her."

Lana looked like she was about to cry.

"I was assigned to watch the scrolls of history, and make sure that the records were kept. And Cia was the one that going to watch the passage of time, and everything that might or might not occur would happen with her watching. And for some time, she had the mentorship of the old wizard by her side…until one day we woke up and realized that he was gone. He had ascended." Lana sniffled. "It was so sad, but I knew it was his time. But Cia…I don't think that she got over it. She mourned him for a while. Longer than I think she should have. And then one day, she summoned me, telling me that she had found this most interesting soul in the passage of time. A soul that kept repeating over and over, and was so incredible and brave and unique."

"Who was this soul?" Lord Grantham asked. Lana, despite herself, chuckled.

"That's easy. He's sitting over there."

As if on cue, everyone turned and looked at Link. Only Ishaka and Impa, the two that Lana had told before, acted as if they had heard this before. Link felt a horrible weight in his chest.

"L-link?" Proxi asked, popping out of his head. "But…he's not that old!"

"Not Link Link, no." Lana said. "But he has the soul of the Hero. And that same soul kept reincarnating over the ages. For some time, we watched his exploits through the ages and the times, and it was some degree of entertainment. And it was wonderful to see Cia smiling again. We'd both cheer and celebrate every time that the Hero overcame the forces of darkness. Even if we knew it was a foregone conclusion, it was still wonderful to feel as though everything was back to normal. But…then I realized that she was…fixating on him. She wouldn't stop talking about him. She wondered if he had ever visited the Forest of the Triforce before. Or, would he want to visit if he was made aware of its existence. I…I could tell that in her excitement and fascination, she'd overlooked a minor detail: The Hero is destined to be with another soul, and not Cia." Lana looked exceptionally depressed with this statement. Ishaka tilted his head to the side, but didn't say anything.

"Did you tell her this?" Lord Grantham asked. Lana nodded.

"She…didn't take it well." Lana said. "She…she accused me of wanting him for myself, and thought that I was being selfish. She…she was different. I noticed there was something about her that seemed…off. As if her attitude had completely changed overnight." Lana blinked several times in rapid succession. "I mean, before then she'd never said she hoped that I died cold and alone before."

There was a pause. Marin, in a moment of human decency, dropped all pretenses of being the princess and gave Lana a hug. Lana sniffled once, and then continued as soon as Marin let her go.

"We fought. I'd never seen her so angry. So…rage-filled. It was like she was possessed by something beyond anything I'd ever seen. Nothing that we'd been taught before, that's for sure. It…it came to blows. I was fighting to defend and calm her down…she was fighting to kill me." She sighed. "I escaped. Just ran into the woods. Later that night, there were creatures of darkness that started chasing me. The darkness had never been allowed into the forests or the Valley of the Seers before." She said. "Almost overnight, I could feel the Valley changing. It warped from a peaceful and quiet place into a dark and foreboding place, just like Cia's heart I guess. I knew I was not safe there, so I fled. But still she sent the forces of darkness after me. They chased me all the way into the depths of the Faron Woods, where by the grace of the Goddesses I happened upon a patrol of Hyrulian troops. They defended me from chasing Bokoblins, and swore to defend me for as long as I needed it. From there, I started building a little rebellion. I knew deep down in my heart that it would not be enough, but I hoped. This went on for months…and then, you all arrived."

There was a moment's pause. It went on for an eternity.

"Cia is doing this for Link." Lana finally said. "I know you have no idea, Link, but you are the one that she is doing this for. She wants to take over Hyrule…I guess to impress you? And she wants to remove the Princess from the equation, so that you see that she is the only one you deserve to belong with. I don't know why she's doing this, or what caused her to change so dramatically…but that is the truth." She finished her tale. "I don't know where the princess is, but we have to stop Cia. Whatever it takes, she needs to be stopped."

"I firmly agree." Lord Grantham said. "I never thought that I would live out the worst nightmare of that ancient phrase that hell hath no fury." He turned to Impa and Ishaka. "Can you raise the army of Hyrule in three days?" He asked.

"Absolutely." Impa said. Lord Grantham nodded.

"Good. This is something that can wait no longer. I may not be the one leading the army, but I recognize as much as anyone that this is a threat that we cannot allow to fester at our doorstep. Cia must be stopped." He said. Impa smirked.

"Careful, Elijah. You're starting to sound like a military commander." The Lord Treasurer rolled his eyes.

"Sometimes the rationale for business and economic decisions in the long run can coincide with military planning." He said. "I would rather take the risk in going after Cia and taking her out before she finds the Princess, rather than sit and continue looking for the princess when suddenly Cia parades into our town square with her head on a pike."

"That be awf'lly dark, boss." Ishaka said. Lord Grantham threw up his hands.

"I cannot rule anything out at this rate! Lana has established that Cia is someone who clearly is not listening to reason, and, call me a crazy person, but I'm going to believe the lady in front of me that has absolutely zero incentive to tell me a lie." He said. He cleared his throat. "We'd better start preparing. It might take some time for the call to arms to reach the outer reaches of the kingdom."

"Just…be careful with her." Lana said. "Cia has done some terrible things…but I do still care about her."

"I thank you for your honesty, madam." Lord Grantham said. "But you and I both know that if we are being honest, then I have to say: I can make no such promises." He added sadly.

…

She was angry. She'd been gazing into her crystal ball, taking the opportunity to enjoy a look into the depths of Faron Woods for the first time in ages, and things had gone exactly the way she did not want them to go. Furthermore, her top lieutenants had decided to wait an entire day before informing her of these issues. Someone was going to pay for that.

"Mistress Cia, you summoned?" Wizzro rasped, materializing out of thin air. There was a clattering of footsteps on the limestone floor, and Volga entered the Sorcerer's Chamber as well.

"Have you received your report from the commanding officers of the Faron Woods excursion that still live?" Cia asked. She had her back to them. Volga spoke.

"Yes. I have taken their testimony."

"You have?" Cia asked. "Volga, dear, could you tell me what exactly my orders to them were?"

"You ordered them to chase the white witch into the depths of the forest if necessary, so long as she was dead and then to bring her body here for you to see."

"Then how DARE-" Cia was suddenly surrounded by a dark and flaming aura. "-They return EMPTY-HANDED?" She whirled around to face Wizzro and Volga. The wizard recoiled in terror. Volga did not flinch. Her eyes were glowing crimson coals, the magic radiating off of her like lightning bolts. "I gave them such a simple task, and this is how they repay me?"

"I do agree, mistress Cia." Wizzro offered. "They did not live up to expectations."

SMACK.

Cia's backhand hit the bulbous wizard so hard that for a brief moment Volga pitied the poor beast. As it lay on the ground coughing in pain, Cia stepped forward and placed a stilleto'd heel on its chest.

"'Did not live up to expectations?'" Cia asked. She was near hysterics. "You summoned them! You commanded them! What is the point of commanding an army you know is inferior!" She grasped Wizzro by the scruff of its robes, and hoisted it up so that they met eye to eye. "You will summon more monsters. And they will be the kind that would make the sturdiest of warriors cry in terror at the mere sight of them."

Wizzro nodded fearfully, and then disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Cia turned towards Volga.

"What did you learn, my dear Volga?" Cia asked. Her mood swing was dizzying. The Dragon Knight did not notice or care.

"They said that the white sorceress was aided by allies. That fairy-boy you talk of so much was among them."

"Mmm…I'll bet he was, that brave little boy…" Cia said. She looked a little bit dreamy. "And what did they say about him?"

"They said that he was at the forefront of the attack." Volga said. His slightly annoyed tone with his master's obsession was lost on her. "They said that, though his alleis were mighty, he was in a class of his own."

"Ooooh…oh, of course my dear Link was! He truly is special, Volga. How could they have expected anything different from my beloved little darling?" She turned to look at him, her dreamy expression giving way to disinterest. "I have no use for lieutenants that fail me. Kill them."

"Mistress Cia, they are good lieutenants." Volga said. "No one could have suspected that those dweloki* would come to her aid, much less summon a Great Fairy. To dispatch of them would leave us with a shortage of good subordinat-" He was cut off by the sight of his master's eyes beginning to burn red.

"Am I going mad?" She asked. "Or are you giving me orders?" She hissed. "Your job is to kill anything that I tell you to, do you understand me?"

"…Transparently, mistress Cia." He muttered. Cia giggled, and then walked up close to him. There were barely a few inches between them.

"There, there…my little Dragon boy." Cia purred, running her finger up and down his chestplate. "I know that it must make you so worked up and…frustrated that you're losing those incompetent guttersnipes. But don't fret, baby…I have something planned that will give you the greatest commanders under your heel that you could ever ask for. And you'll never have to worry your poor little head about these worthless pieces of rubbish you are charged with training."

Volga remained ramrod straight, as if unaware of how his master was behaving around him, or simply uninterested. He spoke in a bored monotone.

"How do you plan to do this, mistress Cia?" He asked. Cia giggled like a schoolgirl. With one of her fingers, she was playing with the tips of her hair, curling it around her nail.

"Ooh, sugar, I thought you'd never ask! It's simple…instead of going out and finding my darling Link…"

She leaned in close, and whispered breathlessly into Volga's ear.

"…We'll let him come to us."

HYRULIAN CODEX

"White" Sorcery and "Black" Sorcery – There are two generally accepted types of magic in the world: that of "white" magic and that of "black" magic. Traditionally, "white" magic is that of the "light" and therefore the magic of healing. The emphasis is on defense and counterattacking if necessary, as well as healing those that need help. It is said that the user draws from their heart in order to power their magic. "Black" magic is much more tricky, and therefore dangerous. Instead of something concrete like the heart, "black" magic relies solely on the intangible desires of the user. Mystics and biologists alike are unsure of where that specific power source comes from, though there is a new and emerging school of thinking that believes that it comes from the more primal "fight or flight" instinct that all beings possess. As such, it is focused on offense. Attack, attack, attack. Because of this dangerous mentality, "black" magic is never taught by mages of the light, and is only found in the use of those who have lost their way to the darkness.

"Wulfrah" – An old Sheikah phrase, usually towards a warrior of great tracking ability. It is a very honorable thing to be called such by a Sheikah, especially if one is an outsider.

"Dweloki" - Dragon-speak for "weaklings."