Author's note: I would really appreciate it if you refrained from putting spoilers in your reviews, especially for this chapter. ;) Thanks for reading. The ruler thingies don't seem to be working, so you get homemade paragraph splitters this time.

Chapter 30

Horacio's horse ran as fast as it could through the dense forest. Out in the open, the snow was layered at least two inches deep. Under the trees, there wasn't quite as much. The sudden winter had caused a strange-looking scene; snow was collecting on still-green leaves. It wouldn't take long for the previously flourishing plants to wither if the freezing weather kept up.

Bitter wind swept across Horacio's face, and he couldn't help but wonder if he had ever experienced a winter quite as cold. There had been plenty of times when it had snowed more than this, but he couldn't remember - the horse suddenly reared up on its hind legs, neighing, cutting off Horacio's thoughts. Spinning his arms around like windmills, he fell backwards, landing in the snow behind the horse.

What's wrong? Horacio thought as the horse turned and galloped away. There was definitely something different about the atmosphere. The air felt thicker and damper; it almost smelled of...fungus? Horacio swung his torso upright. The snow was glowing orange in several places. He quickly brushed off a layer of snow to find a round mushroom cap sprouting from the ground, glowing with a strange orange light. Had the Fungistuls been here?

Hayen Village wasn't far by now. He broke into a brisk walk, which was as fast as he could go through the snow-covered foliage. As if it had noticed his poor footwear, the snow seeped in through his boots, making his feet miserable. His coat was warm enough, but his face was freezing. Surely his nose had fallen off, because he couldn't feel the touch of his fingers with it. Not to mention his fingers couldn't feel his nose. His gloves weren't made for icy weather, and all they seemed to do was restrict his finger movement even more than the numbness already did.

A sudden glimpse of open space pushed his legs to move faster. He stumbled out into the clearing where Hayen Village was - or, used to be. All that was left was a smoldering pile of wood and stone, already being engulfed in black vines.

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Shadows filled the vast hall inside the pyramid. Only a small amount of light filtered down into the room through vegetation-covered ventilation holes in the ceiling. Massive stone pillars lined the hall, disappearing into the darkness where Link couldn't see. It was silent - maybe not a complete silence, because he could still hear the slight sounds of birds outside, but that was all there was.

Looking around the hall, Link readied himself for what might come. He slipped the ice rod from his tunic, holding it at his side. Trying to put aside his confusion from the whole situation, he focused on exploring the room. The ice rod produced a slight glow when he twisted it to the on position, so he used it as a sort of cold lantern. To his surprise, the room contained nothing other than two rows of pillars. The only points of interest besides these columns were the etchings in the wall.

Figures, both letters and drawings, lined the walls. It was in some kind of ancient language, so all Link could do was look at the primitive drawings of people holding their arms up and kneeling. There didn't seem to be any entrances or exits to the room aside from the main doorway, which had been locked behind him. Several holes, some tiny and some the size of Link's head, dotted the floor and walls. It was while looking into one of these holes that the silence changed.

Gradually, a new sound reached Link's ears. It sounded like a mix between a whisper and a clicking noise. He stepped cautiously away from the wall, slowly spinning to get a full view of the room. Suddenly the holes started growing, changing shape. Link leaped back, holding the icy globe close to the ground. The holes weren't growing. Something was coming out of them. Millions of tiny crawling creatures, whispering and clicking their way towards Link. Fire ants.

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Horacio's mouth had dropped open. He stood there, emitting rhythmic puffs of steam until his breath became too cold to produce more. Had the Fungistuls found out the location of Garod's pearl? Was this just a random act of violence? Perhaps he could still find the pearl in the ruins of Garod's house. But where was Garod's house? He couldn't remember the precise location, and all the rubble was strewn into one big mess.

Hopping over the fragmented blocks of stone and shattered wood, he tried to reconstruct the village in his mind. Garod's house had been built completely of wood, while all the other houses were mostly stone. Perhaps it would be easiest to search for a concentration of wood, then. Unfortunately, the distribution seemed to be pretty much equal throughout the wreckage.

Wind swept the snow around his feet and over the debris. Tree branches rustled, occasionally startling Horacio by dropping a load of the slush. Other than that, there was no life to be seen. If there were any survivors, they hadn't stuck around. He would have to get back to the castle. There was no use looking for a tiny pearl in this mess, and Fungistuls could still be nearby.

He'd have worn tougher boots if he had known he would have to trudge all the way back to the castle on foot. It felt like he had a block of ice encasing each foot. But he couldn't complain; what would it matter? The only thing that would help him get back was action. He lifted one heavy foot after the other, quietly stomping into the trees.

The instant he entered the woods, hands grabbed him. One clamped over his mouth; others went for his arms and legs. He was quickly and quietly wrenched downwards into the bushes, where he was dragged down a small tunnel into a dim room. Before he could even think about giving a muffled shout, someone spoke.

"Horacio? That you?"

Horacio struggled to turn his head, and instantly all hands left him. He was in a small, wet cave, lit with a dim fire in the center. Ten or so people of varying ages sat or stood around the room, and all eyes were set on him. He recognized a few from the Moblin city in Pyrobia. These must be survivors of Hayen Village.

"Horacio, what are you doing here? Those mushrooms would have seen you if you had gone any farther. You're lucky we saw you first," said one of the translators from Pyrobia.

"I came looking for something," Horacio replied. "The Fungistuls have threatened the castle, and they're demanding a pearl I think Garod used to own."

"A pearl?" asked a woman in the corner.

"Fungistuls?" questioned an older man.

"Not just any old pearl. One that lets you access the dark world," Horacio explained. "The Fungistuls - those mushroom creatures you mentioned - created two, and both were stolen from them. They want at least one back in a day, and we don't have either yet."

"I don't think any of us know what you're talking about, but I do know one thing," answered the translator. "You're going to have to get comfortable here, because it's not safe to go back to the castle. The Fungithingies are scouring the woods north of here. You managed to get here just before they arrived, and there's no going back now."

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Link stretched the ice rod out towards the fire ants with wide eyes, spinning in a slow circle to avoid being approached from behind. They appeared to stay at a distance from the intense cold, but for how long? He definitely couldn't stand there fending them off forever, but he had no choice. There was no exit, and the room was empty of any other weapons or tools. Perhaps if he could get the orb closer to the ants, they would freeze to death.

He stepped forward swiftly, holding the crystal a hair away from the swarm of ants. There was a screeching noise, and several of them died. Just as many poured in from behind them. Link turned to fend off the ants coming up behind him, jerking forwards just like he had done with the others. It was a slow process, but it was better than nothing.

Something pricked his right arm. He jerked, looking down at his skin. A single fire ant crawled in a circle on his arm. How had it gotten there? His head started itching, and when he scratched it his hand came away speckled with red. Blood? No, they were dead fire ants. Where were they coming from?

He saw one fall to the ground at his feet. It was slightly too far away to have come from his head. He looked up, shielding his eyes, only to find that the ceiling was swarming with just as many ants as the floor and walls. His body was shaking as he drove back the fire ants almost at his bare feet. A tingling sensation flooded his right arm, emanating from the small red bump where he had been bitten. He couldn't last long, especially with ants dropping from the ceiling.

And then another problem was thrust into the mix when something whacked him on the side of the head. Stumbling over, he fell into the field of fire ants. He shot back to his feet, wildly stomping, brushing, and swinging the ice rod all at the same time. His hands, covered in welts, started burning. He could feel more bites on his back. What had hit him?

A flash of green caught his eye, and he brought up the ice rod just in time to block a sword attack. The green instantly vanished. Was Dark Link here? He could be warping from world to world to avoid being seen or attacked by the fire ants. Link swept the ice rod around the floor again to fend off the ants. By now, the numb tingling sensation was all over his body. It felt slightly like being on fire, but he knew he wasn't.

Another sudden attack left him with a gash across the left arm. Stunned, he dropped the ice rod. The instant it hit the floor, it shattered. He leapt away from it as quickly and powerfully as he could. A burst of frozen air passed him, and he landed on solid ice. With nothing to grasp, his bare feet slipped out from under him and his head smacked against the cold, hard floor.

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Victory! Dark Link exclaimed in his mind. I can kill him now and take the blood without having to deal with the ants. He approached the fallen body cautiously, in case it was still conscious. Link didn't seem to be moving, so Dark stepped onto the sheet of ice covering half the floor of the temple. He was safe from the fire ants here, and Link was out cold. He had nothing to worry about. Then why was he worrying?

He found the answer as he stood above Link. Looking down, it felt like he was standing on a mirror. He saw himself, lying lifeless on the floor. Ice was tinted red around him. What was it like to be dead? How would it feel to simply not exist anymore? Was there anything after death?

Link's eyes shot wide open. His mouth opened to let out a cry, but only blood gurgled out. A look of horror crossed both his and Dark Link's faces...no, he was just imagining things. Link was still unconscious. Dark started sweating and looking back and forth between the wall and Link's face. How painful would it be to die? Did all killers hesitate before killing?

Blood. The metallic taste swept over Dark's tongue. He looked at his sword, still smeared with red from Link's arm.

You love to kill. Accept it, and follow your orders, Dark Link told his softer side.

Can't I just take some blood and leave him?

You know it wouldn't work. In order to bring Ganon back, there must be a sacrifice.

I can't kill him.

You were created to kill, idiot! If you won't do it, then I will!

I am you! You can't do anything without me letting you!

Dark Link's feet struggled to move, but he was unable to bring his mind to a decision. His left arm extended his sword over Link, while the right arm tried desperately to pull it back. Unfortunately, his left arm was stronger. There was nothing his softer side could do to stop the darker side...except...

He quickly kicked himself in the leg, causing himself to fall over sideways. Link awoke as soon as Dark landed on him. Quickly shoving Dark off, he scrambled for the broken ice rod, which had not been trapped under the ice. He had to go right handed again, since his left arm had been injured. Dark Link still had a chance. His darker side started boiling over into his soft side, and he stood on the ice, raising the blood-stained sword. Link stood facing him, ready to protect himself with the rod. Fragments of the broken crystal ball still remained on the end, and it looked like it could still be dangerous.

Why had he been stupid enough to wait until Link had woken? Why did he always do this? No matter; Link couldn't possibly win using that clumsy piece of wood. Dark lunged for Link's stomach, and his arm was knocked aside with the rod. Both of them slid across the ice, waving their arms for balance, trying to get in an attack, and protecting themselves at the same time. Dark Link fell over backwards, and Link took the opportunity to swing at his head. Before the club could reach Dark, he ducked and shoved Link's stomach, sending him sailing across the ice.

Reaching the edge of the ice, Link's feet jolted to a halt, and he tumbled backwards into a bed of hungry fire ants. As soon as he jumped up to get back on the ice, his face met the sole of Dark's boot. Flailing his arms, Link was sent far into the swarming red sea. This time, he was instantly engulfed in ants. Dark watched the red Link-shaped object struggling to crawl back towards the ice. He heard the cries and moans of intense pain. He felt the sharp pain in his own imagination, and he turned his head away, closing his eyes.

Eventually the sounds subsided. It was now or never; the blood had to be collected before it was all gone. Dark forced himself through the ants as quickly as he could. He stabbed a needle into the mass of ants covering Link's body and extracted as much blood as he could, sealing it in a small vial. Fire ants were starting to bite him. He warped into the dark world and the ants fell to the ground, as if they had been climbing thin air. It had been done; he needed only to return to Hyrule.

He stood against the wall, watching the shadowy form of Link's body on the ground. Was this the right thing to do? He knew what the answer would be before he thought it: one side of his mind said "yes" and the other said "no" at the same time. It didn't matter; he had done it. Once the Kenaks returned to the temple to confirm Link's death, Dark would escape, make a quick stop in the haunted mountains, and start the journey back to Hyrule to revive Ganon.

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"The soldiers are preparing for battle," Mohan informed Tael the next morning. The fairy was again being held in the same green orb as before. "You're going to show me where the Fungistul base is hidden."

"What if I refuse?" Tael challenged. Mohan smiled, stroking his chin.

"We could always wait for revenge until after the Fungistuls have destroyed your castle."

Tael gasped. He knew Mohan wouldn't hesitate to make such a decision. This situation wasn't going to remain personal for long. Unless he complied with the man, all the innocent people at Myrennia Castle wouldn't stand a chance. There was no question left in his mind. He had to help him, even if he did send Link to his death.

"We'll be leaving in an hour or so, if you decide to show us the way," Chief Mohan warned. "And don't even think about leading us the wrong way. You'd be a complete idiot not to know the consequences." With these words, the chief left his home, leaving Tael to sulk in his tiny prison.

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"Sire, it's nearly been twenty-four hours," General White told King Marcos. "We need to prepare for the worst."

"No help has arrived?" Marcos asked. Horacio had still not returned, and the Moblins and Kenaks weren't showing. The Myrennians would hardly be able to put up a fight before they were completely destroyed by the Fungistuls.

"None," replied the general. "We're keeping a close watch on the Fungistuls, and that's the only thing we can do right now. There's still a chance that help will come in time."

"Only a slim one," sighed Marcos. "I have a feeling this battle won't last long."

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"Moblins! Lots of them!" a man whispered down the tunnel with wide eyes. "They came!"

Horacio had filled the former Hayens in on what was going on. Many had complained about the fact that the Moblins were coming so close, especially with the intent to help fight. Those beasts wouldn't help, the people said; they would turn and attack the humans. Although he tried, Horacio couldn't persuade them to think otherwise. They didn't seem to understand that the Fungistuls were much more dangerous than the Moblins. He didn't blame them, though; half a lifetime wasted in slavery wasn't something you could instantly change your mind about. He was lucky to have only been in captivity for a couple years.

Everyone but Horacio put on worried expressions. As he stood, the man in the tunnel became stiff, spreading his arms across the exit.

"You can't go out there," the man instructed. "You'll put everyone here at risk."

Horacio silently lifted his left foot. The man tensed, afraid Horacio would try something to get by. Instead, Horacio stood still, his leg bent to the side in order to show the sole of his foot.

"Let me through," he commanded.

"So you have a tattoo on your foot. Should that mean anything to me?"

"He is royalty!" someone exclaimed.

"Thank you," Horacio murmured. The man in front of him started to tremble, and he slowly stepped aside. "I know what I'm doing. None of you are in any danger, so don't worry about it. I'll be back soon. Lyle, I need you to come with me."

Knowing it was foolish to question royalty, the translator stood shakily. Horacio beckoned him to follow and then turned into the tunnel. He had decided to get the attention of the Moblins a little farther away from the humans' hiding spot. There was no harm in being extra safe. So once he and Lyle had climbed out into the bush covering their hideout, he crawled through the snow-covered foliage, all the while glancing up for any signs of the Moblins. Once he found Rosaria, he would be safe for sure, but he was afraid he wouldn't be able to do so without a Moblin's help.

After crawling several yards from the hole, he lifted his head above the tall grass and scanned the surroundings. Not far away, a Moblin was shivering and watching for something - Fungistuls, probably. It seemed dangerous to suddenly pop up into plain view before warning the Moblin, so Horacio signaled Lyle to come up next to him.

"Before we stand up, I need you to tell him that we're friends and we wish to see Rosaria," he whispered.

Horacio could see Lyle was shivering; he didn't know whether it was from the cold or fright. Either way, the translator mustered up enough courage to speak Horacio's words in the Moblin language, loud enough for the Moblin to hear, but quiet enough to remain out of earshot of any Fungistuls that might be around. Looking about, confused and wary, the Moblin responded.

"He wants to know who we are and asks for us to show ourselves," Lyle muttered.

Hands raised at chest level to indicate he had no weapons, Horacio stood. Hopefully Rosaria had made it clear to the Moblins that they weren't to kill humans.

"Ask him again to take us to Rosaria," Horacio instructed Lyle. The translator obeyed, and the Moblin pointed behind himself, replying in his language.

"He can't leave his post," Lyle explained. "He's pointing us in the direction of their camp."

"Thank you," Horacio said to the Moblin. He pulled Lyle along behind him, walking around the tree behind the Moblin. Almost instantly, a whole army of Moblins materialized before them. The forest was suddenly green and warm - compared to before, anyway. Was this Rosaria's magic? She had to be nearby.

"Horacio!" exclaimed a familiar voice. Rosaria. The great fairy floated in between the two men and the Moblins. She looked even more magnificent than before. Her amber hair seemed to burn with passion, and her blue eyes sparkled like crystals. "I never expected to see you here. If you couldn't already tell, we made peace with the Moblins successfully, though most of it was probably out of fear of each other. I heard about the castle's predicament, and we're here to help in any way we can."

"Wonderful," Horacio answered. "Have you noticed the Fungistuls doing anything suspicious lately? Their king made it pretty clear that they'd attack around this time."

"As a matter of fact, we were just preparing for battle," Rosaria informed him. "Some of the Fungistuls are sneaking unseen around the outside of the castle. We knew they were planning on doing something soon, so we decided to take them by surprise before they could take the humans by surprise."

Horacio chuckled. "Well, are you ready yet?"

"Not quite." Rosaria winked and motioned to a Moblin standing next to a nearby pile of weapons. He quickly picked up a sword and tossed it to Horacio. "You'll need a shield, too," Rosaria reasoned, and a round, reddish crystalline shield appeared in Horacio's left hand. "It will protect you from most magic attacks from the Fungistuls. I would provide something more protective, but I'm afraid I don't have enough power to form enough for everyone."

"It's enough," Horacio decided. "Now are we ready to slice us some mushrooms?"

"We're ready," Rosaria replied, grinning.

Horacio noticed that his translator was no longer standing beside him.