Impa's horse careened through the sand, stumbling to a stop outside an abandoned outpost. The animal wheezed with exertion, stamping a hoof into the soft sand. Its rider, winded, was attempting to yell over the whistling breeze.
"--- trapped out here!" she gasped, dismounting.
Beneath the desert sun, a slight blue mist floated to and fro.
There is a way to distract them, Nayru's voice rang of fear, But we must hurry.
"Alright," Impa said miserably, running her hand up and down her horse's neck.
First, you must promise me that you will gather this soul. No matter what your opinion of my choice, collect the sacrifice.
The goddess sounded panicked enough to raise Impa's suspicions. The Sheikah leaned against her steed's shoulder, wiping sweat from her forehead.
"What is your plan?"
There is no time, Impa!
The Sheikah glanced into the desert, "I will not question you. Tell me what you need."
The blue cloud lowered to Impa's eye level, then slowly shifted itself into a woman's shape. Its glow intensified, and with a dulled flash Nayru appeared in her Hylian form. Her face was grave.
"You must promise," the goddess repeated.
Impa hesitated, regarding Nayru as if for the first time.
Nayru's expression became desperate, "Please, promise me. My sister and her host are almost here."
"I promise."
Impa found herself in a quick embrace, and was unsure if she should feel honored or concerned. A mingling of both sent her mind spinning.
"I will appear to them as you, but the illusion will only last so long," Nayru pulled back, "You will have only a few minutes once I transport you to the fortress."
"Inside," Impa nodded, "The cells?"
"Yes," Nayru glanced at the horizon, "and... there is another thing."
The Sheikah waited, becoming distantly aware that Nayru's mannerisms were less and less celestial.
"I... will need your horse."
Impa's heart clenched, but she simply nodded, "Take him."
Nayru waved a hand, and Impa was suddenly looking upon herself. She took a step back in reflexive shock, and a line of blue magic drew its way across her vision.
"Be careful," Nayru warned as Impa was absorbed by the spell, "I will not be able to guard you!"
"I will," the Sheikah murmured as the image of the goddess and her horse faded into a light blue haze.
"Why would he go there?"
"Damned if I know," Nabooru said truthfully, rubbing her arm where Sheik's grip had bruised it.
They sat across from each other at a table in the empty potion shop. The weak sunlight barely penetrated the dirty windows, and Sheik had been forced to light several candles. He leaned on his elbows, red eye watching Nabooru intently.
"There must be something of value," Sheik urged.
"Several things," Nabooru flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and leaned back in her chair, "But none that would help him now."
"What things."
The Gerudo glanced at the ceiling, "A few unique weapons, a large store of potions and some newly acquired trinkets."
"Trinkets?"
"Spoils of war, I suppose."
Sheik gave her a long, level glare. She shrank back slightly, adjusting a gold bracelet.
"Make no mistake," the Sheikah pressed his wrapped fingertips together, "this is an alliance, not a casual friendship. If I decide I no longer agree to our terms, I will kill you, and it will be painful."
Nabooru stared, affronted, for a short moment. Then she smiled and chuckled at the young man. She was not so easily fooled by talk such as this.
"I don't think you'll kill me," she said in a low voice, "you still need my help."
"Hardly."
"Ah," she pretended to be struck by a thought, "though I seem to have remembered something."
Sheik drew a terse breath, "Pertaining to Ganondorf?"
"Yes. I mentioned trinkets?"
He simply waited.
"Well," she was glancing at his muscled shoulders, "one of them was an ocarina. Laced with magic."
Sheik looked as if he'd been stabbed.
Confused, Nabooru continued, "It looked like foreign craftsmanship, but Lord Ganon insisted it belonged to a Kokiri girl... Saula, Seera---"
"Saria."
She nodded, wondering how he'd known the name, "He seemed to think it was somehow connected to the Hero."
A swift silence descended in the wake of her words, and Nabooru shifted uneasily as an expression of utter hatred flashed through Sheik's eye. He folded his hands and looked away for a moment. Nabooru could have sworn he was shaking.
"I'm sorry," she muttered despite herself.
There was a rush of movement and a flash of blue, and Nabooru was not entirely shocked to discover a knife point hovering just before her eye. Sheik, perched on the table and quaking with anger, was watching her murderously.
"I told you to stop lying," he hissed, "If you ever dare to breathe another word of him, you will cease breathing in that moment."
The Gerudo nodded slowly, eyeing the knife. This was twice in an hour she had failed to guard against him. She considered the idea that she was out of form. At this rate, she wouldn't have very long to practice.
Sheik lowered the knife and backed across the table, settling himself into his chair. The blade disappeared beneath a wristguard and he leaned back.
"Now," he said, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, "I don't believe anyone but the Kokiri would have had one of Saria's possessions. Murdering Kokiri sounds despicable, even for the Gerudo."
Nabooru attempted to answer civilly, "A Hylian was carrying it. If there was any murder, it was on his part."
The Sheikah's attention was piqued, "A Hylian?"
"One of yours, from Kakariko," Nabooru fought to keep the smugness from her face, "We caught him trying to sneak into our hideout."
Sheik had no answer, but stared hard at the wooden table. He sighed heavily, closing his eyes.
"I suppose he's dead, then."
"No. I left him alive, and word has it Lord Ganon never finished his interrogation."
Sheik's voice was hopeful, "Could he be their concern?"
"Perhaps," Nabooru admitted.
"How long does he have?"
"Not long. They must be there already."
Sheik stood quickly and moved to the door.
"Wait," Nabooru called. The Sheikah paused, watching her impatiently.
The Gerudo rose slowly, gliding around the table to stand near the young man. She leaned slightly forward.
"This little upstart, whoever she is, is powerful," Nabooru shook her head, "We will need to be unnoticed."
"We?"
Raising an eyebrow, the Gerudo let out a short, metallic laugh, "You think I'd let you go alone?"
As Ganondorf charged across the sands, he was more starkly aware than he had been in years. The yellow dunes seemed alive, and the brightness of the blue sky was enough to cause his eyes to water. The power pulsing through his veins was nearly burning him.
Din flew beside him as a red mist, barely visible even to Ganondorf. Her voice would occasionally pierce his thoughts, a thrilling and terrifying sensation.
We are close! she said triumphantly, Soon, we will have our sacrifice!
Ganondorf's gut churned, but he clenched his jaw. He could not be sure how much of his mind was open to the goddess' perusal. He did not relish the idea of finding out.
Moments later, they crested a large sand dune and faced the empty outpost halfway to the desert temple. Atop his shadow steed, the Gerudo King looked down at his constant enemy.
So foolish, little sister! Din was cackling from above.
Past the sandy gales, Impa was squinting up at them, her frame crestfallen in front of her white horse. The animal stomped its hoof nervously.
Ganondorf's heightened senses caught the irregularity of the Sheikah's stance.
"Wait," he muttered to Din, "Something is different."
She knows defeat! I can smell her fear from here.
The Gerudo rubbed his chin a moment, watching Impa's still form. He had never known her to expose fear to an adversary, and had certainly never seen it in the face of his own attacks. Even when he'd taken Hyrule, she had been silent and stony.
He was lost in a memory of the rainy night when Din finally shouted, What are you waiting for?!
He urged his horse forward and the spirit beast darted into motion, winding its way down the shifting slope. Ganondorf's eyes never left Impa's face. She did not move.
The land leveled off and the shadow mount broke into a canter, rushing toward the stone building. Impa made a feeble attempt to move away, but Ganondorf lowered his sword to her neck as his horse slid to a stop. She froze in place.
"After all this time," he said quietly, looking down his nose at her, "you choose to end it like this?"
She said nothing, but an expression of pride tugged the side of her mouth.
Din floated past Ganondorf, stealing Impa's attention. The red cloud lowered and flashed, and Din's Gerudo form stood before the Sheikah woman.
"I used to think you were unstoppable, little Sheikah," Din seized Impa's face by the chin, "You were so promising."
Impa smiled then.
"Do you know what I intend for you?" the goddess' red eyes glowed, "Such glory."
Ganondorf, meanwhile, was attempting to identify the exact feeling of dread pulling through his stomach. Impa never smiled. Never at him.
"Speak," Din ordered the woman. Impa blinked slowly at her.
"I said speak," the goddess dug her sharp fingernails into the skin of Impa's face. The Sheikah did not react, and instead of blood, blue light shone from the tiny holes.
Din drew back as if attacked, "Nayru!"
Ganondorf's horse stepped back in slight panic as Impa's skin melted away, revealing a younger, blue-haired woman with glowing eyes. The Gerudo king felt a further tightening of his stomach muscles.
"Sister," the goddess of wisdom was smiling serenely, "you are too proud."
Din let out an animal growl of fury, causing Ganondorf's steed to prance sideways in definite fear. Impa's white horse, behind Nayru, whinnied and retreated a few paces.
The power in the air was nearly visible, and Ganondorf's senses were illuminated by sparks of red and blue magic. He was vaguely aware that the blue sparks stung fiercely at his skin, and that the two goddesses were exchanging words. He was more concerned, however, about the real Impa's location. If she was not in the wastelands...
He began to build a spell in his left hand, hiding it behind his leg.
"You will destroy us!" Din was screaming in a horrible voice, "You ignorant little child!"
"Ignorant," Nayru scoffed, blue aura flashing visibly in anger, "Not so naive as you think me, sister!"
With a howl of rage, Din flung open her arms, sending a crimson spell burning past her sister. The red beam flew at Impa's horse, who could not move quickly enough. The raw power sliced into the animal's shoulder and burst through the opposite flank in an explosion of blood. The beast keeled with a screech, twitching as its life drained away. Nayru let out a cry of anguish.
Ganondorf urged his transportation spell to build faster, before he found himself trapped between the two goddesses. The dark power in his hand solidified after a moment, then surrounded him.
Din turned, noticed the spell, then grinned wildly. Her frenzied face was the last thing Ganondorf saw. His augmented power carried him quickly across the wastelands toward the fortress. He would leave the goddesses to their own feud.
Impa surfaced from Nayru's spell in the lowest cell wing. She moved silently into a corner, seeing a Gerudo guard in the doorway. The guard's back was turned to Impa, and the Sheikah's eyes adjusted to the dark room.
To her left, there were two cells. One contained a skeleton, the other a recently dead man. Behind her was a steep incline leading to another room, and before her there was only one guard, then the sunlit day.
Impa checked her breath, careful not to make a sound as she moved forward. Her eyes roved the ceiling, seeking out any trace of a hidden guard. She knew all of their tricks and tactics. Her soft boots made no sound on the stone floor.
The Gerudo guard, a young woman with short hair, stood haphazardly against the doorframe, far inside the room. Too far to be seen by the women outside. Impa edged along the wall to her right.
Just behind the guard, the Sheikah grasped a tiny pebble from between her feet and readied her knife in the opposite hand. With barely a movement, she sent the pebble flying toward the cells. It bounced almost silently off an iron bar.
As expected, the guard turned, and Impa's knife shot upward into the Gerudo's exposed neck. The young woman fell silently, blood spouting from the wound.
Impa edged around the dying guard and pulled a ring of keys from the wall. The first key she tried clicked into the lock, and the cell door creaked open. The Sheikah moved toward the dead man, attempting to locate his trapped soul.
As she knelt beside the body, a curious sensation greeted her. She could feel no spirit around her, crying out for help. She glanced around, suppressing a frightening thought that some Gerudo shaman might have sent the soul along already. But this was impossible: Nayru could not be wrong.
Impa took a moment to study the body before her. The man's eyes were both closed, ringed in black bruises and swollen. His shoulder sported a hideous burn, and his hands were mangled. This skin of his bare chest was almost entirely covered in red-purple bruises and gouges. Impa looked again to his face and recognized him with a remote pang. This was the missing potion-maker, whom Impa had known since his childhood. A dim memory of Castletown and his young face arose in her mind. He had been barely older than Zelda when he first took over the shop years ago.
Something brushed her leg, and Impa leapt back. Her eyes roved the dead body as she looked for a mouse or even a spell. To her shock, the man's finger twitched.
She rushed back to him as he stirred and opened his eyes. The narrow slits revealed bloodshot blue orbs, which stared hazily upward.
"...Impa?" he breathed weakly.
The Sheikah nodded, holding a finger to her lips. He continued to groan, trying to form words.
"Hush," she leaned close to his ear, barely making a sound, "You must be quiet, Avin."
Her thoughts spun rapidly. So this was what Nayru had meant. Impa had not been sent to harvest a soul, but to steal one. She felt her heart twisting; she had dared to think she might be more than another of the goddesses' pawns. Her knives were suddenly heavy against her wrists.
"Can you move?" she murmured to Avin.
He wheezed, a sound which somewhat resembled "Yes."
Impa reflected on the bluff with some concern. It appeared several of his ribs were broken, and his shoulder was shattered. Not to mention the dubious red stain on his lower left pant leg.
And Nayru had ordered her not to hesitate. Then again, this was Avin, a boy she'd known all his life...
"Come," Impa closed gentle fingers around his arm. He hissed in pain, but began to push himself up. Impa caught him halfway and lifted him as she stood. From the corner of her eye, she saw him biting violently into his lip.
Once they were upright, she allowed him to lean heavily on her. She strung his useable arm around her shoulders, bending low and gingerly grasping his waist. He sucked in air through his teeth as her hand raked an open cut.
She pulled him forward, and they stumbled a few paces out of the cell. Avin released a quiet groan of pain.
Impa looked at his face and saw that he wouldn't make it two paces from the fortress, let alone to the fields. She directed him toward a crate and sat him down on it.
"Here," she dug through a small pocket on the side of her belt, "Take this."
She handed him a tiny vial of purple potion. He half-smiled.
"Not... mine," his teeth were bloody.
Impa attempted a soothing smile, "No, but it will have to do."
He took the bottle and lifted it to his lips, swallowing the liquid with some effort. Impa wondered fleetingly when the guard would change. If they remained where they were, they'd be found.
"Strong..." he shuddered.
"It will heal you enough to move, and then you must do exactly as I say, when I say. Do you understand this?"
"Yes," he handed her the empty vial and positioned his arm across his bare chest. His eyes searched Impa's hopelessly.
"You will survive this," Impa told him softly, "I promise you."