"I can feel it," said the woman excitedly. "Our chance will come, and it will be soon. Even now he walks Hyrule." She glanced over at her brother. "There is no way I will be stopped again."
The man smirked. "I still do not believe you, sister. Who are you to be blessed with such knowledge?"
"He spoke to me himself!"
"So you say."
"What she says is usually wrong." Brother and sister stopped their arguing and glared at the dark man who had intruded on their conversation.
"Get out of here, bastard. You'll be supporting the enemy again, I'm sure, as you did so long ago." At first when the woman and the dark man were thrown together in this strange realm, they fought bitterly and were constantly at each others' throat. After countless years of this ceaseless combat, however, the two realized that their strife was getting nowhere, and learned to tolerate each other's presence. Nevertheless, their mutual hate and contempt ran as deep as ever, and if either of them got half a change, his or her blade would be through the other's heart in an instant.
"If they are out to slay you I will back them whole-heartedly," the dark man retorted.
The woman's brother growled at him. "Betray us again and I'll gut you the first chance I get."
"You'll have to beat me to him," said the woman. More than once had she thrown herself in fury at the dark man, though once he claimed her bed and perhaps even her heart. Pointless, she knew. But perhaps soon her blows would be fatal.
"Threats are useless here," said the dark man impassively. "Now I'll excuse myself, and leave you idiots to your bickering."
The woman had to restrain her brother from lunging at the dark man. He had a temper to match even hers. He stopped struggling as the dark man disappeared from view. "Damn him," he cursed under his breath. "He's the reason we need this second chance."
The woman laughed dryly. "Oh, he's already been damned. If anything, that's a concellation."
The dark man sighed as he walked. He certainly did not want to be here. None of them did. Perhaps the twist at the end of his life came too late to save him. But here she was talking about another chance. If it did come, would he be able to prove himself to the celestial judges? Partly, it depended on himself, but mostly on this spirit, for he was quite certain it was a spirit, that the woman was so keen on not letting him know about.
……………………………..
For being on the mind of nearly every creature in several different realms, the spirit didn't act like it. Resting within the body of a helpless Gerudo King, it sat quietly in a temple in the desert, waiting.
It wanted her. It needed her. Out of all the beings in this realm, she would be the easiest to manipulate. But to the spirit's dismay, she no longer ran the gate operation. Instead, it was that damned one-armed Corlander. And if the spirit killed him, he would doubtlessly be replaced with another, just as pititful, just as useless.
Oh, it would get her all right. It had invaded minds before, and it could do it again. The spirit smiled to itself. Soon, she would come, and soon, she would be disposed of.
Somewhere inside the body he had no control of, Raven struggled helplessly.
……………………………..
Zega flatly refused to answer the questions of all the council members who saught him out. He was indeed the Zega the knew, the youngest son of Ganondorf, the fifth of the legendary Eight who had prevailed over the Black Sorcerer. He had promised her that he would not reveal her secrets though, at least not yet, and he stayed true to that. I wonder how long I'll be able to stay true to her in this world, he thought darkly, then quickly stamped the matter out of his head.
He hung his cloak on the wooden peg and laid down on the straw pallet. On a request from Link, he was currently lodging at Gerudo Fortress and helping Lankin with the gate. Also dwelling in the desert stronghold was Nabooru, and temporarily Fado, Sira, and the Goron Lord Dayon. Mayor Kafei had returned to his wife Anju in Termina, but Link had assurance that all he needed to do was send a single messanger and Kafei would come charging back at the head of the Terminian army. Zega sighed. All this to stop his brother; he just hoped it would be enough.
He stood up. He couldn't sleep now. Zega opened the door quietly and wandered down the deserted hall. It was past two in the morning, and the Hyruleans that had worked all during the day were sleeping soundly in the packed fortress. Lankin was out at the gates now with about fivescore warriors, assisted by the Goron King. Fado and Sira had bedded down for the night, as had Nabooru.
Zega paused at the sage's door. Ever since the council she had been talking in low tones and not paying attention when people spoke to her; it seemed as though her mind was elsewhere. He twisted the door knob and entered the room. Despite the eight year age difference between them, they had been great friends during Zega's time in the fortress. Because she had already had Damon and made Zega an uncle at the age of six, he had never pursued her in any kind of a romantic way, out of respect for his brother.
That is why he was so surprised to find Nabooru stretched out on her bed, the flame of desire burning in her eyes as she gazed up at him.
Zega went red. "Sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have barged in." He turned to go, but Nabooru called him back.
"Please don't leave," she said, and Zega was surprised to hear such strength in her soft voice. "We have all night. I want you to stay here, with me."
At this, he narrowed his eyes. Was it Raven she saw when she looked at him? "I am not the king," he said quietly. "I am Zega, his brother." Again, he turned to the door.
"No!" she sobbed. "No, please!" Zega was startled—tears were pouring down her cheeks. "Help me. Have me!" She was whispering now. "I don't want to go!"
He knew something was seriously wrong. He walked to her side and pulled the blankets over her shuddering body. Pulling a nearby chair to the side of the bed, he ran his hand through her auburn hair and soothed her in a soft, comforting voice. "I will not have you. I would not do that to you or to my brother. But I will stay with you, if you wish. Now close your eyes."
He sat by her bed and spoke to her about many things that night, about the trees and the grass, about the vast blue ocean, about the wind and the clouds.
The sun peeked out from behind Kokiri Forest.
……………………………..
Curse him! The spirit would have had the sage if it weren't for that meddling bastard. It growled through the throat of the Gerudo King. Now it would have to wait even longer.
And what was that scent on him? It was sure it had recognized it. Realization dawned on the spirit.
It was her!
……………………………..
She sighed in relief. "Thank you, love."
……………………………..
Link had accepted Zega's reluctance to talk. He tried to shrug it off and act normally. His people needed to know that everything was under sontrol, and nothing showed that better than the actions of their king. Rumor of Link's tale had spread to every corner of Hyrule.
Today Link rode to Termina to visit with some old friends there. Kafei accompanied him around the realm, chatting with the Indigo-Gos in Zora Hall, talking to the Snowhead Goron tribe, and even sharing stories with the Deku Princess. When the two finally returned to Clocktown, the sun was setting and the sky grew darker by the minute.
"Stay the night," prompted Anju back in Kafei's home. "Please relax, feel welcome!" She was always warm to the Hero of Time, for it was in fact him that saved the couple's marriage seventeen years ago.
"I would love to, but I must get back to the Desert Gate and see how things are holding up," he bowed graciously. "Thank you for the offer."
"Next week, then?" said Kafei.
Link looked at the mayor, confused.
"The Festival of Time is in a week," Anju reminded him.
"Ah," he said slowly, "the Festival of Time…" He noticed the look on Kafei's face. "Forgive me for being rude, but I don't have too many fond memories of the festival."
Kafei and Anju smiled knowingly. A while back, the moon nearly crashed on the day of the festival, and eight years ago Adreon's warning had sounded, beginning the trying struggle that later became known as the War of the Sorcerer. Just last year, Link had fallen sick just before the celebration, and spent much of the day vomiting in the privy.
"Will you risk an appearance?" inquired Kafei, nearly laughing at the last memory.
"Of course I'll be there," said Link, grinning at his own expense. "I never learn." Still in good humor, the king said one last farewell and strode out of the Mayor's house.
……………………………..
With only the moonlight to guide him, Link rode east through the once dangerous Ikana Canyon towards his homeland of Hyrule. Again the Hylian King found himself most grateful to Epona, for while he was nearly drifting off to sleep on the saddle, she carried him smoothly and without need of direction. Near the newly built path to Hyrule Field, horse and rider encountered a lone traveler carrying a huge pack on his arched back.
The stranger chuckled. "My dear friend Link."
Link snapped fully awake when he heard the merry laugh. He knew the sound anywhere. "I don't believe it. Seventeen years, has it been?"
The Happy Mask Salesman stepped forward. "Three days less, no joke," he said in his sing-song voice. "You sure have grown."
When Link had returned to Hyrule from his first adventure in Termina seventeen years ago, he had found that the Happy Mask Shop that had once stood in the market was simply gone, an empty lot where it had been. The villagers he had questioned about it had looked at him as if her were crazy and told him that there never was such a building.
"Where have you been?" Link now inquired. "What happened to your shop?"
"I was happy, you were happy, and my customers were happy. My job was done."
"So you left?"
"There are more important things I had to attend to."
"Things more important than bringing happiness? Such as?"
"Don't meddle," said the salesman, and Link recognized the underlying firmness in his voice. Link dropped the matter. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again.
"What were you doing in the shop in the first place then?"
"Keeping a promise," muttured the salesman under his breath.
"What was that?"
"I didn't say anything."
"Are you going to answer my question?"
"No."
Link sighed, exasperated. It had never been easy to get a straight answer out of the odd mask salesman, but now he seemed keener on keeping Link guesing than usual.
He gave his signature chuckle. "Well, I musn't stop and chat for too long. We'll meet again."
Link was surprised that the salesman wasn't staying longer. "What is your destination?"
The salesman nodded west, and Link turned. "First Great Bay, then wherever the wind may take me. Toodles!"
Link turned back. "What, do you mean—"
But the salesman was gone.
……………………………..
Lankin pulled the thick cloak closer to his body and glanced out over the desert for what seemed like the millionth time that night. As unbearably hot the wasteland was during the day, temperatures dropped to freezing after the sun set. He shivered. Sometimes he wondered if Raven was even still alive out there.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Everything look alright?" asked Link quietly.
The Corlander nodded. "Always does."
"I'm grateful you're doing this, I know it's not the most exciting assignment. I'm just not sure I can trust Nabooru with the welfare of my realm while Raven has such influence over her."
Lankin nodded again, then grinned. "Don't worry about me, there's nothing more excillerating that laying here all day and night."
"In the same place," Link put in.
"For a straight month," finished Lankin, and he let out a bark of a laugh.
"Oh, go hit the sack, you old dog," said Link, smiling. "I hereby give you permission to wake Lord Dayon for his shift."
"I'll get some eternal sleep if I wake that lumbering hothead."
"Lumbering hothead, am I?" sounded a deep voice from the bottom of the ladder. Link jumped. He had not heard Dayon coming, and Gorons weren't exactly catlike.
Lankin put on an innocent face. "I'll hustle on up to bed then, shall I?" And he scrambled off, Dayon and the king laughing as he went.
As Lankin settled down to sleep, Zega was once again speaking comforting words at Nabooru's bedside in a nearby chamber. Although the Gerudo doctors could find nothing wrong with her, she hardly ever left her bed, and Zega had spent almost of all of his own time at her side. Something was wrong with the sage, he was sure, but he didn't know exactly what it was.
So he soothed her, night after night, unaware that not too far away, a malicious spirit was cursing him many times over through the mouth of his own brother.
……………………………..
Four days later, however, the spirit had more important things to do than curse Zega. He had decided to try again on the night of the Festival of Time. Surely the man would attend the celebrations, though the spirit would make sure the sage would not.
Today it would make contact with the queen, so that she could prepare her forces.
The woman was walking with her brother when she heard its voice. "Queen of Chaos, it is time," it murmured inside her head.
She jumped in alarm, which was quickly replaced with exhilliration. "Sister, what is it?" the man inquired, raising his eyebrows.
"Shut up!" she hissed. "You have a willing sacrafice?" she asked it quickly.
The spirit did not answer.
"Sister, who in hell are you talking—" the man was cut off as her fist caught him full in the chin.
"In three days from now, I will open the gate. Will you be ready with your army?"
"Yes, of course," she said, unable to keep the smile from her face. "Anyone who wishes a second chance will follow me."
"Good," hissed the voice. "You will want to plan your moves well."
"Aren't you coming with us?" she queried.
Her brother glared at her, rubbing his jaw, but he had enough sense not to say anything else.
"Perhaps I will travel with you, for a time," replied the spirit in a cold voice. "But you will lead the force. I desire only death, it does not matter to me if yours is among the corpses. There are many other promising captains and many other whores I could bed."
Though the woman recognized the underlying utter indifference on the spirit's part, she could not surpress her rising excitement. The all-powerful Spirit of Hell, choosing her out of all the women in this realm? She wasn't even sure…
The spirit laughed, a rather unpleasant hissing sound. "Just because I am not human does not mean I do not enjoy human pleasures, Queen."
She grinned. "I understand."
"Make sure your ready."
"Yes, Lord."
The spirit was gone.
"Come, brother, we have work to do."
He followed her silently to an old abandoned shack. She kicked open the door. Pushing aside countless spiderwebs and forgotten boxes, she finally found what she was looking for. The woman picked it up.
It was a wicked double-sided scythe.
And oh, how good it felt to hold it in her hands again.
……………………………..
The dark man sighed. No one he had talked to had known for sure whether the rumor was true. Or perhaps they did, and hadn't told him.
He hated this world. Everything was pain, death, and suffering, and it was all treated with a sick indifference. All of the good things of his old realm were absent. He was constantly tortured, not only by the burning flames that licked every corner of the realm, but by his brethren here. He was alone in this world of death. He didn't belong here, and every moment that passed made that fact even more clear in his mind.
Every time the dark man heard about this "second chance", his heart raced with excitement. Such an opportunity had never in history come before in this realm, he knew. He would have to use it very wisely.
The dark man snapped back to reality when he nearly ran into the woman and her brother. He realized with a start that was holding in her hands her old scythe. Before he had time to act, she raked it across his chest, spun around, and rammed the other end into his heart. The dark man coughed up blood and sank to his knees.
The woman sneered, and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You're going to have to be a lot more careful out there, Raker."
He leapt to his feet and sent his elbow crashing into her bare stomach. Her brother snarled and lunged at him, but Raker snatched his fistin mid-swing and twisted the man's arm. He cried out in pain.
But the woman had recovered from the hard blow. She spun and sent her foot smashing into Raker's temple. He hit the ground hard.
"You're nothing but a hopeless bastard, Rake," grinned the woman. "True, we can't kill you. But we can beat you down until you cry for mercy like a child."
Raker got to his feet shakily, but the woman's brother punched him straight in the face. He let out a grunt and collapsed back to the ground.
"Pray, Antia, stop this," came a menacing voice from behind the pair. "That is my son, if you'll remember." A tall sorcerer strode over to Raker, who had again stood up. "Dak," he nodded to the woman's brother as he passed.
The sorcerer stood at about six foot and a third. He had mysterious swirling eyes the color of the setting sun. Dark red hair flowed down a little past his neck, and one sparkling hoop earing hung from his pointed left ear. He wore a patterned vest, baggy pants that tucked into his heavy iron boots, and thick black gauntlets. Although he did not look it, the sorcerer was born over a thousand years ago, and dwelt in the Hyrule area for over half of that.
Antia had shimmering golden hair and stunning sapphire eyes that seemed to be alive, crawling and sparkling at their own free will. It had been said that she could drive a mortal mad with her piercing blue stare. She had a thin brown scarf around her neck, long white gloves and knee high white boots. A patterned velvet cloth hung from a belt around her waist, and she was clad above the waist in a short top, exposing much of her soft skin, forever tan from the hot desert sun. She was known across many realms for her vicious battle skills, fiery temper, and aggressive passion.
Her brother Dak had dark, thin, wavy hair. He usually appeared to be sulking of scowling, and was easily sent into a dangerous angry mood. He had sullen brown eyes and stood just a little shorter than the sorcerer. Dark was clad in a sandy brown tunic and a gleaming chest plate. His old battle-blade had long rusted and lay forgotten in some dark room in Hyrule, but since then, like his sister, he had constructed a new weapon exactly like his old one.
Looking rather shabby next to the well-dressed Gerudos around him, Raker wore a long, plain dark cloak, ripped and torn in too many places to count. A wicked scar ran across his face, half hidden by his long, thin auburn hair. It was plain that Raker didn't care much about his appearance or hygiene, he a let a short, untidy beard grow out and his dirty hair was always ruffled and unkept.
The sorcerer turned to the queen and spoke. "It is pointless to fight in a realm such as this. Wait just three more days, and you will be free to tear out each others' throats."
"I plan to do just that," said Raker quietly, and with one last dark glare at the two of them, he turned and strode off.
"My apologies, Queen," said the sorcerer. "As much as I despise him, he is my son."
"I know, bastard, I know. And I place the blame on your shoulders for siring one such as him"
The sorcerer narrowed his eyes, but he held his peace.
Antia turned to her brother. "Come, Dak. We have no more time to fool around with these brainless idiots."
The sorcerer stared at Antia's back with an unreadable expression. My son is part sorcerer, like me. So what are you, that you can overpower myself and him together? he wondered. He was startled to see her glance back at him, the corners of her mouth curving up in the ghosts of a smile.
Your worst nightmare, Vlorack. Your worst nightmare.