Sweat glistened on the face of the young man Kryn as he dodged and leapt out of the way of his opponent's strikes, but he didn't have time to wipe it away. Listening intently, Kryn quickly sidestepped as his opponent's stave whistled through the air harmlessly where he had been not a moment before. Before his opponent could bring back the weapon for defense, Kryn knocked it from his hands and swung around him, choking him with Kryn's stave. Kryn heard his opponent gasp for air and released him, laughing.

His opponent growled menacingly as soon as he regained his breath. Kryn untied his blindfold. "Get out of here, weakling, I can't stand looking at you."

Kryn was about six feet tall, but he constantly slouched his shoulders and never stood straight, so he appeared shorter. Nineteen years were tucked away in his belt, and he strode with calm and confidence wherever he went. Wavy black hair spilled unevenly to his shoulders, with a mysterious tint of dark green streaking through it. He wore no shirt, but a shark's tooth hung from a string around his neck and long, stocking-like pads covered his arms. Below the was he wore baggy pants and light sandals.

Both Kryn and his opponent, as well as the rest of the Hylians from their far western village, were on a large ship bound for the unknown east. No one save the mayor himself knew exactly why that had left, but no one wanted to be the one to ask, so rumors spread rapidly. As the boat drifted day after day through the endless ocean, the villagers, especially Kryn and several others around his age, were getting restless. The mayor had finally given in and allowed them to practice with wooden staves, and now a small group had gathered around the bout, amazed that Kryn had been able to defeat his opponent blindfolded. They bombarded him with praise and admiration.

"It must have taken years to reach your level!"

"Oh no, mastery like that comes naturally to born warriors like myself."

"I've never seen anything like that!"

"And you never will again, pal, I'm one of a kind."

"You could get anything you wanted with those moves!"

"Aye, but when you're as good as I am, what else could you possibly want?"

As the sun set the crowd gradually began to disperse, and in a short while Kryn was standing alone on the deck, stars twinkling above. They young swordsman's heart leapt. Not too far away stood a seventeen-year-old girl named Fan, gazing out over the vast, shimmering waters. With his amazing battle-skills Kryn had been able to impress every girl in the village, but Fan was the only one he'd ever wanted. He took a breath.

"Aye, she's a pretty one." Kryn jumped. Leaning against the mast was a tall man, looking straight at Kryn with an amused expression on his face.

"Rift!"

If there was one person in the entire world who could take Kryn's mind of the girl, this was him. Rift was roughly the same size as Kryn, clad in a thick red cloak despite the summer heat. He was much older, however, nearing forty in age. He had short gray hair and soft brown eyes, both complimenting his thin face. Rift was usually grinning as if he didn't have a care in the world, which was almost true. Kryn envied him because he had no obligations to shackle him down, and he came and went freely wherever he pleased. Kryn knew that Rift had been a friend of his disceased father, but he didn't know much else about his background.

"You have quite the crowd of admirers, mate," commented Rift, his signature grin upon his face.

"I didn't ask for their praise," said Kryn, relieved that the subject had changed.

"You seem to embrace it, though."

"What would you have me do?"

Rift chuckled. "I suppose you're right." He paused. "So shall I attempt to steal her purse and allow you to play hero?"

Kryn sighed. Fan again. "You wouldn't need to allow me, Rift. I could pin you with one hand tied behind my back."

Rift raised his eyebrows. "No doubt." The friends were silent for a moment.

Without warning, Rift sprang on Kryn, dealing him a hard blow to the stomach with his fist. As Kryn gasped for air, Rift tackled him to the ground and pinned him on his stomach, twisting his arm in such a position that Kryn knew Rift could break it in a second if it was his wish.

Rift chuckled and let Kryn go, extending an arm to help the young villager up. "It appears as though the old dog still knows some tricks."

Kryn got to his feet and brushed himself off.

"Your lady watches."

Kryn went red when he saw that Fan was still over by the helm, staring at them. "I wasn't even trying," he muttered under his breath.

"Aye, of course you weren't."

Kryn turned back to Rift. "What brings you to our ship? Just to humiliate me? And how did you get here?"

"Perhaps we should head below to your cabin. It's getting late, and there's much to tell you. And perhaps," he continued, eyes twinkling, "you could ask the lovely lady if she'd like to accompany you for the night as well."

Too late he realized that Kryn had drawn his stave. Before Rift could do anything, Kryn smacked him upside the head with it.

"AH! What was that for?" Inspite of himself, Rift grinned, rubbing his head. "Maybe that was a stupid question."

"You're not as dumb as you look," Kryn laughed. He stole one more glance at Fan before turning and leading Rift down to his cabin.

……………………………..

Two days before the Festival of Time, sheets of heavy rain poured down upon Hyrule as all over the land hundreds of creatures sank back into their homes to spend a warm and dry day indoors.

His hair dripping wet and tangeled, Lankin stumbled into the dining hall of Gerudo Fortress. He was soaked to the bone and his clothes clung to his body as he collapsed in a seat by the fire. At the table, Zega, Fado, and Sira looked up at him.

Sira quickly stood and snatched a blanket from a nearby closet, covering Lankin's shivering body with care. "Here you are, sir. It must be terrible out there!"

Lankin nodded in thanks. "Give me a few minutes and a cup of hot tea, miss, and I'll be going right back out."

Sira started to protest, but her husband covered her mouth with his hand. She looked over at him and he shook his head.

Zega handed Lankin a steaming mug of herb tea. "I'll give you relief, mate," he assured the Corlander. "Just stay in tonight, no harm will come of it."

Lankin was too exhausted to argue. "Be my guest, friend, and many thanks." He settled back into his chair and closed his eyes, sipping the tea. Sira made sure he was comfortable; the poor captain deserved it over any other, no one doubted that. He hardly ever left his spot atop the Desert Gate, sometimes even spending entire nights out there without as much as a blanket to shield him from the cold of the wasteland after sunset.

Quill closed the book in his lap and stared at Zega over his small reading glasses. "I don't know if that's necessary, Zega. There are at least twoscore fine warriors out there now; I'm sure if something happened at least one of them would have the sense to come in and tell us."

"I agree, mate," replied the young warrior. "Yet we are not to disobey the order from his Lordship; Link wants one of us out there at all times. I will not let him down."

Quill got out of his chair slowly. "Suit yourself. As for me, it's nearly midnight. There are soft blankets and a warm bed calling for me upstairs."

They wished him a good night and pleasant dreams as the old elf set his book on a shelf and headed up to his room.

Zega swung his cloak about his shoulders and, nodding to Fado and his wife, strode out into the main hallway and pushed open the large doors. They slammed behind him, and the sound echoed throughout the quiet fortress.

Fado and Sira took two seats beside Lankin, who was now gently breathing in and out in peaceful slumber. Fado took his wife's hand in his own. The fire hissed and crackled softly, its warmth engulfing the couple, its light casting shadows across the stone walls of the stronghold. The patter of the rain was comforting as Fado and Sira closed their eyes.

They drifted off to sleep holding on to each other.

……………………………..

"Raven," whispered Zega atop the turret of the Desert Gate. Tears mixed with rain as they splattered to the ground. And she cried with him.

……………………………..

"Kryn, wake up!"

Groggily, the young swordsman sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His friend Harill stood by the side of his bed, shaking him violently. "I'm up, I'm up," he yawned. "What is it?"

"Get some clothes on," said Harill urgently. "Everyone's gathered on deck, there's a rumor another ship's been spotted."

In a few minutes Kryn was dressed, and he and Harill made their way up onto the deck, where most of the village stood chatting. It was still dark out. Kryn spotted Rift amongst the throng, who he suddenly realized was absent from his cabin that morning. Kryn worked his way over to him.

"Rift, what's going on?"

The cloaked veteran glanced over at him. "Cursed eyes aren't what they used to be. Kryn, look starboard. Would that be a ship on the horizon?"

Kryn squinted. "Aye, that's a ship. Wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't mentioned it." He looked back at Rift. "What do you think it is?"

"Think?" Rift barked in humorless laughter. "I know who's aboard that ship." He drew his long blade and Kryn narrowed his eyes. "Better steel yourselves, mates!" he shouted to the villagers. "There be pirates on the horizon."

……………………………..

Link and Zelda arrived in Clocktown the afternoon before the festival to help Kafei with last minute preperations.

Anju squealed in delight when she saw Zelda. The two women could rarely escape their trying schedules in order to see each other. They embraced. "What a pleasure!" laughed Anju.

"The pleasure's all mine, sweet Anju," Zelda smiled, and then turned to greet Kafei.

Hours passed and more and more familiar faces appeared in Clocktown. Mikaku and the rest of the Zora rock band, the Indigo-Gos, immediately began to set up their equipment on a stage built in the East Clocktown square. Draton, Viscen, and other Terminian captains posted guards all around the town and exits. Lankin's mother Corill and a small escort headed to the kitchens to prepare food for the celebration. Cremia from the Romani Ranch arrived in her wagon with several jugs filled with delicious special milk.

Finally the guests began to show up at the town's gates. Gorons, Zoras, Hylians, and Dekus alike gathered at all the doors, waiting to be granted entrance to the city and the festival. Even several Gerudos could be seen, although usually they did not get involved in such things and the Gerudo band of pirates that once populated western Termina had been exiled years ago.

An hour before midnight, Link glanced up at to the sky at the moon. "Good," he muttered. "Right where you should be."

……………………………..

Only about twoscore villagers were left on the deck. The rest (mostly women and children) had gone below to hide in relative safety. As the pirate ship came closer, Rift cursed under his breath.

"What is it?" inquired Kryn. Excitement overpowered his fear, and the swordsman had to struggle to keep himself from smiling in anticipation.

"I was hoping they were Gerudo. Inexperienced girls, the lot of them. But I can tell by their sails that these are elves."

"Elven pirates?" said Kryn in awe.

"Aye, elves," replied Rift gruffly. "And you, mate, should soung more fearful when you say it. Excellent eyesight, unmatched longevity, coordination and teamwork. Sounds good when they're on your side, that it does. But when they've been killing and plundering the seas for their whole long lives? Terrible enemies, mate."

Kryn shuddered involuntarily.

Without warning, scores of arrows thudded against the deck and mast. "Get down!" yelled Rift as he knocked Kryn to the ground. Kryn looked around in horror. At least five of his comrades lay dead with arrows in their skulls. The rest had managed to duck down behind something.

"After the initial volley they'll most likely hold their fire unless we get up. In the meantime they'll prepare to board."

Kryn found he couldn't answer Rift. This was, afterall, his first real battle experience. He certainly wasn't prepared for the merciless slaughter that it brought.

Rift glanced at him. The boy was growing up. He had won training sessions against no real competition, but how would he fare against pirates? This was the real training. Rift just wished they weren't elves.

He didn't have time to worry about Kryn. Even now the first grappling hooks could be heard catching the ship's rail. Once the first pirates had boarded, no more arrows would be fired. It would be hand to hand from there.

Nearer to the starboard side of the ship, Kryn's friend Harill crouched in utter terror. He had gotten seperated from Kryn in the defense preperations. He gasped. A worn, black boot appeared handspans from his face. Harill looked up in horror. Standing there was the most frightening being he had ever seen.

The pirate had long, gritty blonde hair and a patch over one eye. He wore dirty, torn clothes and a filthy red bandana. Huge hoop earings dangeled from his long elven ears, and he grinned at Harill with yellow teeth. He bowed elegantly to the petrified Hylian. "Good morning, mate."

He twirled his scimitar and ran Harill through.

And chaos erupted.

……………………………..

Kryn found himself fighting harder than he ever had before. It was difficult to block out the sounds of battle all around; he concentrated as hard as he could on one opponent at a time. If he would have looked around, he would have been met with a frightening and depressing scene.

The villagers fought bravely, but the pirates were ruthlessly tough and seemingly invincible. While nearly half of the villagers lay either dead or wounded, only a few elves had been downed. Of those, Rift had claimed the majority.

The cloaked veteran made no sounds as he battled, nor did he change his expression, opposite of what might be expected from such an animated character. Without a word he parried and thrust, eventually overcoming opponents and moving on to the next. Grimly, he muttered to himself. "Well, this is certainly not good."

Suddenly, a shout could be heard over the din. "Below!" It was the mayor. "Get below!"

The villagers retreated to the lower decks. Rift came last. "Damn," he cursed when he hit the end of the stairs. "They control the ship now. All we can do is wait until they come down to kill us." He noticed Kryn and started in surprise. The swordsman's entire lieft side was covered in blood, and ugly wounds ran across his right leg.

"Those wounded find a cabin, and someone to tend to you," commanded the mayor. "We don't have time to help you."

Slowly, Kryn made his way into the nearest cabin. A girl opened the door, armed with a short dirk. "Kryn!" she said, startled. He stumbled over to the bed.

"Damn," he winced, and collapsed.

……………………………..

Sira turned at a noise from down the hall. "Oh, hello," she said as Nabooru came into view. Though various people had tried to persuade her to join the celebrations, Nabooru had insisted on staying in the fortress. Now she, Sira, and Fado commanded about twoscore total warriors to guard the Desert Gate until after the festival.

"Where's the other elf?"

Sira frowned at Nabooru's rudeness. "My husband is out on the gate. Do you need something?"

"Would he like a break?"

"I don't know, Link told us not to let you out there alone…"

"I just need a little fresh air, that's all."

"I'm sure he won't mind your company."

Without as much as another word, the sage stalked off into the early morning light.

Fado smiled as she reached the top of the ladder. "Good morning, miss, how are you?"

She stared at him. Slowly, as if she were struggling to find the strength, her mouth opened. "Don't…" she whispered, "please don't do it…" Without warning, she bounded to the turret rail and leapt straight over.

"What in hell?" cried Fado in alarm. "Nabooru!" He ran to the rail. Several paces down she got to her feet in the blowing sand. "Nabooru!" he called again.

She didn't seem to hear him. Instead, the sage began making her way out into the wasteland.

"Oh, goddesses help me," prayed Fado. There was no time to warn Sira, no time to warn the score of guards behind him, or else he would lose Nabooru forever in the desert. He took a breath, swallowed his fear, and jumped from the turret. Landing nimbly as only an elf could, Fado ran off into the unseen dangers of the Haunted Wasteland.

……………………………..

And somewhere, somewhere very close by, the spirit laughed uncontrollably.

……………………………..

Kryn cried. He shuddered and he sobbed. The physical wounds that damaged his body had been treated, and they would heal in time. But the memories that damaged his soul would never go away. Through glistening eyes he looked over at the girl that sat by his bedside.

It was Fan.

Oh gods, he thought. She couldn't see him like this! But he couldn't stop. He only sobbed louder, gasping for air as his tears stained the pillows and blankets beneath him.

Fan moved closer to Kryn and began rubbing his back soothingly. She had never particularly liked Kryn—what a stuck up brat!—but she couldn't help feeling sorry for him. It must have been terrible out there to put one such as him in this state of shock and misery. "There, there," she comforted. "Don't worry, Kryn, we're all going to be fine."

"Fan," he struggled to speak.

"Don't talk," she whispered, holding back tears herself now. How could someone this strong and confident be transformed into what she was before her?

He paid no heed. "Thank you, Fan." He looked into her eyes.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Rift stumbled into the cabin. Many apologies if I'm intruding, miss," he panted. "I'm sure circumstances can be taken into account." The cloaked veteran seized a candlestick from a desk near the door and shoved it under the handle. Intruders would have a hard time getting in now.

"What's going on out there, sir?" asked Fan, getting to her feet.

"Cut the formalities, mate," said Rift quickly. "Elves stormed down the stairs. We got quite a few of them, but they must've cut our number in half before the rest of us fled."

"How many have we left?"

Rift jumped. "Ah, Kryn, didn't see you there. Around a dozen fighters, half of which are injured like yourself."

"Six?" cried Fan. "Six fighters left?"

Despite the obvious predicament they were in, Rift gave a tired grin. "Last time I checked six was half a dozen, miss."

"And how many pirates?" said Kryn slowly.

Rift paused, the smile completely gone from his thin face. "At least threescore of the bastards came tromping down those stairs."

They were silent. That would be ten pirates to a villager, and the elves clearly outmatched the villagers skillwise.

"Listen and listen carefully," Rift said quietly. "When elven pirates take over a ship, they usualy let two or three live, to spread tales of their wrath, to be thrown on their slave chain, or to show them to the plunder on the vessel. I don't know about yourselves, but I'd rather be doing that than lying dead to rot."

"But what of the other villagers?"

Rift stared at Kryn. "Better them than us, mate."

Kryn couldn't believe his ears. He suddenly realized why Rift was so free: he didn't care about anyone but himself. His childhood idolism and adoration of the man quickly died like his comrades in the other cabins nearby.

"You heartless bastard!" he accused. "You would that they were slaughtered while we sit here?"

"What do you think our intervention would accomplish?" Rift shot back. "We are in a boy in no shape to fight, a little girl, and a heartless bastard. We would be slaughtered alongside them."

"So be it!" shouted Kryn, and Fan could tell he was struggling to continue. "If not my life, at least I would retain my honor."

"Honor is a useless trait, boy," said Rift calmly. "Now shut your trap. If you try to get up I'll knock you back down. To survive, the door must hold. It would be wise to concentrate on that, and only that."

Through the side wall of the cabin, the terrified scream of a woman sounded, along with the wailing of a small child. All of a sudden both dropped silent, replaced with the insane laughter of a murderous pirate.