A/N: A big thank you to all who have reviewed! =) It always makes me happy to see that you're enjoying this story. I hope you enjoy the ending, which is fast approaching, as well. A big shout-out to TheTextingNeko, my most faithful reviewer. God bless you, girl, and God bless you all!

~ Penelope

Chapter Eighteen:

Sacrifice

"For God so love the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved." ~ John 3: 16-17

The room swerved in a blurred haze. He felt himself falling, falling… His head collided with the inforgiving surface of the marble floor, and pain exploded across his skull. So quickly… it was over.

He heard the queen call for her husband – her voice was distant, echoing… Nothing was sure in that no-man's ground between awareness and sweet unconsciousness. Perhaps he wasn't hearing the queen screaming in grief; perhaps he wasn't here at all. When he opened his eyes again, it would all be nothing more than a fiendish nightmare, a hellish dream sent to torment him.

He could see it now – the songs of the birds would awaken him. He would sit up in his bed, in his royal chambers, as he had done since before he could remember. The sunlight would stream oh so sweetly in from the wintery day beyond the balcony, and the golden shafts would reflect off the glittering snow and make him squint.

Abyll would come in rather than a servant – the dear boy prided himself as Caine's personal wake-up call. His vibrant blue eyes would light up with glee when he saw his elder brother was already awake.

For a moment, Caine felt his sanity waver. And in a blink, the scene was real. There was his brother, there, just across his room…

"Come on, Caine!" the boy said, grinning broadly and bounding over to the bedside. Caine gave a morning groan, rubbing a hand over his face and raking his fingers through his disheveled black hair.

"It's early, Abyll…"

"Yes, but you're already awake! All the more extra time to play in the snow!" Abyll tugged on his arm, threatening to drag him out of bed and onto the cold, hard floor below. He very nearly succeeded when Caine's elbow gave – cursed sleep-weighted limbs! The elder prince flopped back on the soft pillows. He cast his younger brother a glare, but the smile playing at his mouth spoiled any attempt of venom. Abyll just smiled impishly.

"Come on! Don't be a wet blanket – come have fun!" The boy darted out onto the snow-laden balcony and leant over the rail.

"Be careful, Abyll," said Caine, swiveling his feet from under the comforting warmth of the blankets, and onto the cold floor. The lack of welcoming heat made him shudder. "It's probably icy…"

"I'll be fine! Come on! It looks so fun!"

Caine smiled to himself; what happened to the innocence of youth? Why must it fade…

"Caine!" Abyll yelled for him. There was a slight shift in his tone…

"Yes?"

"Caine! Caine!" He was sure of it now; Abyll sounded distressed. A frown creased his brow.

"Abyll, are you all right?"

"Caine! Caine, wake up!"

What on earth…

Someone was lifting him. Dragging him to his feet. Pain lanced across his back, and he was suddenly reminded of the cruel whip lashes that shed blood down his body. Not to mention his broken nose, and damaged eye. But whoever it was that hoisted him, they were less than gentle. Had Thalion gone back on his word? Were the dragons taking him away again?

No… Soldiers. Armored soldiers. They kept a firm grip on his forearms as they picked him unceremoniously off the floor. Caine's blurry vision swept over the blood stains his momentary stay had left.

"Caine! Oh, Caine…"

She stood directly in front of him – the queen, that is. Salty trails stained her pale face, her blue eyes pink from tears. She made a move toward him, and Caine clenched his teeth as the soldiers roughly jerked him backward, away from her.

"No, Majesty," said one, voice gruff and low. "We cannot allow you-"

"I don't care! He's my son; I want to see him!" She advanced on them once more, and this time, they obliged, albeit begrudgingly.

See him… She could see him now. And he was sure it was a pitiful sight. The prince of Hyrule, reduced to this, a bleeding mass of flesh with no dignity left to save and no future of any kind beyond the punishment for his sins. He couldn't look at her as she stepped in front of him.

He didn't react when she gingerly wrapped her arms about him. No emotion escaped his expression, nor did he return the embrace. He felt her body shivering, and by the sting of salt in his wounds, he knew she was crying. The tears slid down his back, slipping into the whip marks and making them sting. He flinched the slightest, but didn't move otherwise.

What was there to react to? This person the queen held was nothing more than a shell, an empty case that once held who she knew to be her son. That boy was all but dead, and in his place, stood a bare casing, a mechanical body programmed to simply exist, killing if need be to accomplish that purpose. He felt that emptiness in full force when he realized he felt no desire to be with his mother of all people. No matter what she felt, he didn't deserve to see her again, much less be loved by her. It was his fault the king had been captured as it was… She shouldn't love him. In fact, he would have reacted more if she had hit him, cursed his name, and sentenced him to immediate death. At least it would have been expected…

"My son… My son…" She stroked his tangled nest of black locks, clutching him close to her. Why didn't he feel anything? After all this time, he was reunited with his mother. His beloved mother. Why did no tears sting his eyes, no love or even guilt well up in his chest? Perhaps he was more hollow than even he knew… For it seemed even his heart had lost its ability to feel.

Or maybe he didn't want to feel.

"Majesty…" The soldiers gripped his arms all the tighter, and pried him from the queen's grasp. The royal stumbled backward the slightest, arms extended out to Caine, groping to find him again. But the guard held her at bay. Caine's gaze drifted to the blood stains he had left on the front of her gown; it seemed everything was stained with blood these days… "This boy is a traitor, and a murderer. He must be dealt with accordingly."

"But…" He saw more tears well up in her eyes, and her lip trembled. "He's my son…"

For a brief moment, the guard looked sympathetic. "I know, Majesty. But that makes his crimes all the more potent."

She didn't seem to hear him. Her eyes never left Caine, and tears streaked over her cheeks anew. "My son… My son…" She seemed in a daze, repeating the phrase again and again, and straining against the soldier's arms. Her hands clutched at her middle, and Caine recognized the action easily. I hope it's a son… A better son. Like Abyll.

The guards jerked him away from the queen as they saw their chance, and proceeded to drag him out of the room, and toward the dungeons.

"Caine… Caine!" Her pain-filled scream finally triggered a response from him – a slight flinch. He closed his eyes as the queen's sobs filled the hall. "Please… Please, don't take him away again… Please…"

The guards stopped again with a jolt that irritated the abrasions on his back. He swallowed a cry of pain, and cracked his eyes open to see an aged old man standing before them. One of the councilors, he thought… Chancellor Thoron, was that right?

"Take him to his chambers… but guard all exits," said the man coldly, staring down his nose at the ragged prince. "I'll send for someone to treat his wounds."

Caine didn't feel like he was even in the room. He felt lightheaded – he wanted nothing more than to give into the beckoning arms of slumber, to just let it all slip away. Perhaps he even wished to never wake again…

The room jolted, and he knew they were moving again. But he couldn't follow on his own; his feet dragged against the floor, without the strength to carry him. The strain on his shoulders stretched the wounds on his back, and he almost wished he could walk on his own… but he didn't really care anymore.

They came to a flight of stairs, and the soldiers grumbled something about the useless prince, and how taking him to the dungeon would have been easier on them… Caine didn't hear the rest. Halfway up the stairs, he ceased fighting the blackness. The pain and their whispers drifted away into nothingness as he sunk into sweet unconscious bliss.

~-LoZ-~

He deserved to feel a thousand lashes from a cat o' nine tails. He deserved to hang from the highest gallows, deserved to lose his head to the plunging blade of a guillotine, deserved any number of the greatest punishments imaginable. He had done such wrongs; his hands were tainted with the blood of his own people – people he betrayed, people he let down.

But the king… The very thought of it made Caine hang his head in anguish. The king of Hyrule was a just man, stalwart and courageous, just and kind. How he had been so blind before all of this, he didn't know. How dare he accuse such a man, the very Hero of Time, of being a coward. How dare he disrespect him so… Why had he done it?

Of course, that didn't matter now. What was done, was done. Nothing could change that.

He peered over the railing of his ever-familiar balcony, and caught sight of the shining helmets just below. The two guards stood erect and at attention – they didn't speak, nor did they fidget. They knew their job was an important one. They were guarding a murderous traitor, after all.

A murderous traitor. That's what he was. And he would be branded as such the remainder of his days, however short they may be.

He stepped back into the warmth of his room, and with a glance at the fire in the heart, was again grateful that he wasn't in a cell beneath the castle, surrounded by the stink of prisoners past, and the squeaks of mice and bats. He gave a mild shudder. Much better here than there.

The shiver made him wince as he was again reminded not to move his back so much. While most of the lashes had been sewn shut, they were still infected he was told, and hence, still ached. Badly.

Two days. Two whole days being confined to this room, having all of his meals brought to him, and knowing that the royal council was somewhere plotting his fate… all the while, Thalion had the king of Hyrule to do with as he pleased. Caine thought back to that wretched room where the jealousy-crazed knight kept his instruments of torture… Another shudder wracked his spine, and he grimaced. Stop doing that!

And here he was, utterly useless. He'd had two days to rise out of his self pity just enough to know that he should do something to help, but what? How could he do anything when soldiers were stationed at the only two exits to his new prison?

He sighed sinking onto the bed, propping his back against the soft pillows. Heaving a sigh, he leant his head back against the headboard. He was a confused person, all right… His emotions seemed all over the place, hopping back and forth like a frog on lily pads. For the moment, he couldn't trust his head – it was so unstable. Thoughts, conflicting thoughts, swirled and battled each other for attention, so much so that it made his head ache.

But he did know this: sooner or later, an opportunity would arise. The guards would be called away, or fall to distraction. And when that happened, he would have to be ready. Otherwise… He knew what Thalion Faroth was capable of. And the king's life hung in the balance.

~-LoZ-~

Zelda made her way through the vacant streets surrounded by her guards – she never went anywhere without them, unfortunately. Her shoes clicked on the cobblestone as she went, and the closer they came to the city square, the more ruckus she should hear… Bellows and shouts, hollers and curses. An uproar so loud, she had heard it from the palace.

She and her party rounded a corner and came to a screeching halt. Before them stood a throng of bodies. Many in the outer circle were citizens of the city, men shouting in anger, and women sobbing pitifully. Her gaze swept over the crowd, and she found that further in, dragons kept the people at bay, and a large, open space created a ring in the center. A frown creased her brow as she caught a glimpse of two of the scaly beasts in what looked to be a scuffle in the middle of the impromptu arena.

"What in heaven's name…" muttered Colin at her side; he had took it upon himself to look after her since Link left, and therefore, never left her sight beyond her private chambers. She glanced in his direction, taking in his furrowed brow and analytical gaze before turning back to the situation at hand. What was going on here?

Without waiting on the soldiers, Zelda began pushing her way through the crowd. Initially, people didn't notice her until she brushed past them. But when others began glancing back and spotting her from ahead, she knew word was travelling that the queen had arrived. And it wouldn't be long before it reached whomever was at the center of all this… The people stepped away from her and her posse to allow them through, and soon enough, Zelda was staring up into the sneering face of a red dragon.

She thought about trying to peer over its shoulder, or slip past it, but decided against it. "Let me pass," said she in a low voice, glaring up at the beast.

It chortled. "You fink you can order me 'round, little queen? Bah!" It snorted in her face, forked tongue flicking out before disappearing behind its scaled lips once more. "This is our city now; you have no authority."

Zelda gritted her teeth, clenching her fists tightly. She didn't have time for this! "Let. Me. Pass."

The dragon opened its mouth to object once more, but a familiar voice rang out over the shouts to interrupt. "Oh, let her through. I'd love for her to see a certain someone this way."

With a grunt of disapproval, the beast stepped aside, and the queen finally got a good look at the ring of space. The black knight from the day before, Thalion, stood off to the side, a smirk twisting his features. At the center, two dragons stood over a bent and bleeding figure – the beaten figure of Link Taurë. Her throat tightened. His head was hung, and his bare chest glistened with sweat and blood. Those wicked chains were still about his wrists and ankles, weighting him down, dragging on the ground with every move. The two reptiles poked and prodded him, jeering and hissing in his face, but the hero never replied. His lips remained in a firm line, never uttering a word. They slapped him with their ridged knuckles, clawed him with their talons, and used their wings to batter him about as if it were some sort of game. Yet he didn't lash back.

"Link…" The word escaped her trembling lips in a soft gasp. She felt ill, and covered her mouth with her hand.

Thalion chortled. "Pitiful, isn't it? Took me all of two days to get him this far – and he hasn't even given in yet. Stubborn fool. That son of yours was so much easier to break."

The band of dragons and Thalion began to move through the city, dragging Link along with them, and Zelda stayed as close as was possible. But the dragons weren't about to let her near her husband – no doubt, they were trying to ebb his strength, and weren't willing to risk anything renewing it.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and nearly screamed in fright. She whirled about, and found herself staring into the soft blue eyes of a concerned Colin.

"Don't disappear like that," he quickly chided before helping her along with the throng, avoiding collisions with other people, and steering clear of the dragons. Zelda easily realized where they were headed – Thalion was leading them toward the palace.

They wove through the streets, and Zelda counted several that had happened to be crossing the empty road who ducked into the nearest building to hide at the sight of the procession. A sigh escaped her.

They came to the main courtyard in front of the palace, and Thalion leapt atop a mound of rubble that was once a grand fountain. He drew his sword with a flourish, and grinned sadistically down at everyone.

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to this most monumental occasion – the execution of the great Hero of Time!"

~-LoZ-~

Execution? Caine's stomach churned, making him feel sick. No, no, no! This can't be happening… He had to do something, that much was certain. No way in his right mind could he simply sit there and watch from his balcony. He glanced downward, and his spirits gave a slight lift – the guards below were gone! Huzzah!

He had just turned to his closet to snatch his cloak when the door swung open to reveal a servant, about Caine's age, bearing a tray of what was to be his lunch. The dark-haired boy cast Caine a glance – there was no emotion to it; it was simply an acknowledgement – before moving to set the tray on the small table.

"Excuse me," said Caine as he pulled his cloak from the hook, and the boy turned to him expectantly. A plan was already forming in his mind, and this servant would be ideal to it. Come to think of it, he'd never seen this boy before… "What is your name?"

"Nathan, sir."

"Have you worked here long?"

"Only 'bout a month." His accent led Caine to deduce he was from the outskirts of Keskus. "Family needed money; castle needed help." He shrugged.

Caine nodded, clasping the cloak about his shoulders. "Well, Nathan, I need your help now."

Nathan cocked a brow, wariness for the first time creeping to his green eyes. "What sort a' help?"

"The king is in trouble; I need to help him," Caine said, peering off the balcony's edge. "If I just escape right now to do so, you could get in trouble for 'letting me go'. So, I'm going to have to pretend to hurt you."

"Pretend to… what?"

Caine gave a longsuffering sigh, and glanced back at the other boy. "In other words… I have to knock you out."

Those dark eyebrows shot upward, and the servant blinked incredulously. For a long moment, he said nothing, and Caine couldn't help fidget with anxiety. Time was wasting!

"Well…" Nathan sighed at long last. "…This is probably the most interesting day at work I've had. Get it over with quick; I have a low tolerance for pain."

A half-grin allowed itself to take Caine's expression, and he stepped up to his new confidant. With a brief look of apology, his hand flew to the servant's neck and, with a quick but harsh pinch, Nathan collapsed. Caine caught the now unconscious boy's arm, and eased him onto the floor, then grabbed a stack of books and flung them at the door to make a ruckus. Before the inner guards, who Caine had seen through the door as Nathan came in, burst in, he darted for the balcony and threw himself over the edge. He caught hold of the branch of the nearby tree just as he heard the soldiers stumble into his room, shouting and grumbling.

Well, that went well… he thought to himself. Bless you, Nathan, for your help. May you wake without a headache. With a short chuckle, he began to hoist himself onto the branch. But he found it more difficult than he'd anticipated. The stitches in his back seared with protest. He clenched his teeth tightly, and fumbled for better hold. But his injuries slowed his movements.

His hand slipped, and he tumbled to the ground below. His knees acted as shocks for the most part, taking most of the jar, but he swayed off balance and collapsed onto his behind.

He stood with a shake of his head, and brushed himself off before turning to the ruckus going on just around the corner. When he peered around the wall, he caught sight of something that made his heart lurch. Something that would haunt him forever.

Two dragons held the Hero of Time aloft by his wrists in their glimmering claws, his feet dangling uselessly in open air. Thalion stood proudly behind him, a chain in his hands… a chain stained with crimson. Caine's eyes darted to the king, and sure enough, great gashed poured red down his bare back, gashes made by the cruel impact of iron.

"Behold your oh-so-wonderful king now, Hyrule!" shouted the lord in black, throwing his head back in maniacal laughter. "Where is your strength, now?" He lashed the chain once more, and Caine felt sick as he heard the thump of iron against flesh. Link cried out in pain through his teeth, and the prince heard several women in the watching crowd wail for their beloved king. At the forefront of the throng, he caught sight of the queen, standing silent with a somber Colin just behind her. She was covering her mouth tightly with her hand, as if she would cry out with her husband if she didn't.

Something welled up in Caine that he hadn't felt in a long time. And all at once, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

And with all the soldiers busy, or watching Thalion's sick show, it would be so easy to slip out of the city.

~-LoZ-~

It was over. There was no strength left to fight with, and while every inch of him screamed to keep fighting anyway, he felt consciousness – and life – draining from him with each passing second like the blood from his back. Another stroke from the chain came, and he once again felt the searing pain shoot through his flesh and up his spine. This time, no kind of pressure in his jaw could keep back the scream.

No more… No more. He gave in. He gave in to the pain, gave in to the insistant tug in his will to just let go. He felt awareness slipping away. But as he closed his eyes, he caught sight of… her. Standing there… looking up at him with those beautiful blue eyes he loved so… Those eyes were wide, and glassy with fear, and pain. Every time that wretched knight lashed him, she grimaced, as if she were in pain herself. If he gave up the fight… he gave up her as well. She would not have him at her side the next morning… She would raise their last child alone…

He couldn't do that to her.

He gripped what resolve he had left, and steeled himself against the temptation to fall unconscious. Blackness still swirled before his vision, and he felt lightheaded from loss of blood. And as the chain whipped his back again, and another scream escaped him, he didn't know how long he could last…

There was a flash of blue, and a battle cry, and the dragons lost their grip on his wrists. He collapsed to the ground, and lay there, still. Through barely-opened eyes, he caught sight of a familiar figure… and smiled.

~-LoZ-~

Caine's upper lip twitched into a snarl, and he gripped the Master Sword all the tighter, his knuckles popping. Thalion stumbled back in surprise, his hands twitching for the hilt of his own black blade. But the prince wasn't going to allow him the chance to fight back. He'd had enough fun; it was time to end it, once and for all.

Slowly, the knight's look of surprise morphed in to one of sadistic pleasure. "Ah… My dear son. About time you showed up."

Caine clenched his jaw, speaking through his teeth. "I am not your son."

"Denial, young prince, will get you no where," said Thalion, with mock disappointment. "You see, you cannot run from what you are. I, myself, have accepted my destiny. Why not acknowledge yours?"

"The future is what you make it. After all, you don't know if you'll be breathing in a few minutes." The two combatants began to circle one another, each sizing the other up, both prepared for anything.

Thalion chortled. "A fine thing coming from you. So ready and eager to take another life?"

Caine did not grace that comment with a response. Instead, he gave the Master Sword a swing, and the blade sung through the air. Thalion ducked under it, but Caine was pleased with how close it came to that helmet of his.

Thalion took the chance to strike out with his own black blade, which Caine dodged with a short hop backward, and a parry of his sword. The two went back and forth like this for what seemed like ages. Parry, thrust. Parry, thrust. Again, and again. It was a test, Caine knew. Both were seeking for the weaknesses of the other.

Thalion found it first. He swiped, and Caine dodged to the side and knocked the stroke away. But his footing was off, and as soon as the prince did it, he knew what a mistake he had made. The black blade used its momentum against him, and came swinging back like a boomerang. It delved deep into his thigh, slicing through the flesh easily. He saw the blood before he felt the pain. And when he did feel it… boy, did he feel it. Pain so intense, it made his head light… Or perhaps that was from the loss of blood. Either way, his legs buckled only moments later, and he sunk to his knees.

With a grin, Thalion straightened and leisurely turned about, swiping his blade absentmindedly. "You see, Caine… It takes real skill to be able to second-guess your opponents' mistakes before they even do them. And when that skill is mastered, no one can defeat you… Not even a Chosen Hero. A shame you won't live long enough to master that skill yourself…"

But Thalion had made one fatal mistake. In all his boastings, he had forgotten one of the most important rules of swordplay.

Never turn your back on your opponent, unless he's dead.

Especially if they've killed before, and have no innocence left to keep.

The blade of the Master Sword pierced straight through Thalion's back, and the point emerged on the other side, at his chest. Caine jerked the blade loose, and watched as the villain's body collapsed into a heap on the courtyard ground. The crowd roundabout them murmured, and some even cheered, but all of that was drifting away. Soon, he could hear nothing… Nothing but the throbbing of his heart in his head. Of their own accord, his knees buckled again, and he sunk to the ground once more, and laid back in its comforting, unforgiving embrace. Stars and spots of black obscured his vision. The people began crowding around him…

He caught sight of the intense blue of his father's eyes just as his own fell shut.

A/N: How did you like Nathan? I ask, because he will be a reoccurring character.