A Note To New Readers:

Hey there! This story is currently undergoing some maintenance at the moment, and as such, what you have read up until this point may clash, be out of place or jump ahead/behind the chapters that follow. Please know that I am writing as fast as I can to rerelease these new chapters and believe me when I say that the story will be more concise and flow better, (not to mention be much more interesting from the get go). Please bear with me and enjoy nonetheless!

-Jack Knights

"Don't start with me!" Link couldn't help shouting. "I'm not sick with some life threatening disease!"

"It is possible," Sai muttered as he stood. "I could be wrong. There's a slight chance, less than three percent, but it's there. However, I have never been wrong about this sort of thing in all my years."

He approached Link, putting a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. Link glared at him, unwilling to accept defeat. I'm not dying, not yet. I can't, not until I redeem myself, he thought angrily.

"Is there any conclusive way to test for this disease?" he asked.

"I've done all the tests more than once," Sai said, his brows furrowing together as he thought. "If there is another way, another test, I don't know of it."

"Is this disease contagious?" Link bristled.

"As far as I can tell, no," the human admitted.

"Then you have no reason to keep me locked up."

"It was precautionary," Sai explained. "You may not be contagious, but the time it takes for the first symptoms to show varies. It could be days, a matter of hours, months even, before the virus becomes malignant."

"In the meantime then," Link began, working out a plan in his head, "I have a few requests."

"Tell me what you want first. I'll make no promises or arrangements until I know what I'm dealing with."

"First off, I'm not going to stay in your 'quarantine'," Link demanded, cutting Sai off before he could protest. "You have no right or conclusive evidence to keep my locked up. If you refuse, I'll take this matter up with that annoying Hylian girl and her brother. They're representatives, of some sort and hold sway over what happens around here, that much I can tell."

Sai grimaced, but nodded solemnly. "Alright, but I will continue monitoring your progress. What else?"

"I want in on whatever you're planning," he said simply, crossing his arms.

"I don't know what—" the raven haired man began, but Link cut him off.

"Don't even try that with me. I've already learned enough from my would-be rescuers. This is the Resistance they spoke of, isn't it?" he pried. When the human remained quiet, he grinned knowingly and pressed forth. "You've seemed to have amassed a pretty big force of fugitives. Why do so unless you were planning to strike back? I want to be a part of that attack against Ganondorf."

"I'm not at liberty to confirm or deny your speculations," Sai began, clearing his throat, but Link could tell his suspicions were already confirmed. "But if you want to fight, there may be something you can do."

"Let's go for a walk," he said suddenly, surprising the Hylian. He brushed past him, opening the door. Sai paused when Link stood, rooted to the spot, wary. "Are you coming?"

Without any other option, Link walked out after the man.

Goddesses help me, Dagg silently pleaded as he sped through the halls back to his room. I've really done it now… He flung the door to his room open, locking it behind him as he dove under the bed.

"What are you doing?" a voice startled him. So surprised was he that he immediately tried to straighten, smacking the back of his skull against the sturdy wooden frame of the four poster bed. He cursed, rubbing his head as he straightened. Much to his surprise, Ganondorf's ambiguous minion stood next to the door, their arms crossed as black eyes stared curiously.

Dammit… I've been found out, he realized, wringing his hands behind his back. "I… I was trying to hide," he said, but it came out as less of a statement and more of a question. For a moment the robed person simply gazed at him, either unconvinced or exasperated.

"I told you to stay on his good side," they warned. I guess I'm not a bad liar after all… Dagg thought bemused.

"I tried, honest to Nayru I did," Dagg tried to explain. "But… he's intolerable! How could anyone possibly stand to be near a man so twisted?"

"I know it's difficult," they murmured as they approached, placing a hand on Dagg's shoulder. "But you must learn to keep your anger under control. To even admit how easily he riles you up is giving him control over you. And if that happens…"

I become a slave, trapped within my own mind, Dagg finished off silently.

"Know that whatever you choose to do will have consequences. And you might not be pleased with them. Keep your anger under control, young Dagg, and you might just remain your own person," they reassured him, unlocking the door. They hesitated at the threshold before withdrawing a role of parchment from within their robes. "This is for you," they said as they tossed the paper upon the bed. "It's from that little girl. She wishes to speak with you."

"Thank you," Dagg said uncertainly.

"Oh, and try to find a better hiding place for your schemes than under the loose floorboard beneath your bed," they muttered, closing the door behind them.

I guess my lie was as transparent as glass after all, Dagg berated himself. He reached under the bed after locking the door again, removing the floorboard and taking out its contents. After a brief look, he noticed nothing had been taken from him. There might be an ally hidden with that person's robes, he thought as he opened Claire's letter.

For a girl so young, she had impeccable handwriting and an extensive vocabulary, no doubt stemmed from being trained since younger on how to be lady-like for future suitors. Her letter read;

My dear friend,

How are you? I hope all is well. I am fine. The castle has become my home in the few short weeks I've been here. I miss home terribly, as I do my mother and brother. I realize that there is little you could do to help with my melancholy (written M-E-L-A-N-K-O-L-Y), but I would like to see you at least once more. I will be waiting for you in the room beneath the grand hall at midnight. A tapestry hides the door, but I am sure you will find it. If you cannot make it, I understand.

Forever friends,

-Claire

Dagg sighed, sitting down upon the heavy down mattress, undoing the knot that kept the dark cape bound to his neck. Despite his previous bought of terror, he smiled slightly upon reading the girl's letter. The robed figure's words echoed ominously in his mind.

Know that whatever you choose to do will have consequences. And you might not be pleased with them.

Are they trying to warn me away? he wondered as he kicked off his shoes. But why? Could it be a trap? Or do they have a more sinister motive I cannot yet fathom?

He read the note once more, his resolve solidifying. Regardless of what that warning meant, I have to go. I can't let Claire take the punishment of attempting something so daring alone. If there is a trap waiting for us, I'll just have to spring it and hope for the best.

"Where are we going?" Link couldn't help but ask. Sai had led him through a series of hallways, down a flight of stairs and into a long white hallway with no windows. The passage was lit by many torches, which lined the walls at regular intervals. It felt as if they were below the earth.

"The stores," Sai answered, grabbing a gas lamp from its perch outside a door. Three more doors down and they stopped. "Hold this," he said, thrusting the lantern into Link's hand. He withdrew a ring of keys from his pocket and flicked through them, eventually selecting a brass one as long as his hand. It looked as old as the door and, after struggling to turn it in the keyhole, Sai managed to push open the heavy door.

Taking the lamp from back from Link, he led the way inside. The inside of the room was full of shelves; literally rows and rows of them, each holding innumerable boxes with labels on them. Going along them, he eventually found the row he was looking for and proceeded down it, scanning the numbered boxes as he went. They were almost at the end when Sai finally stopped again, pulling out three wooden boxes that were side by side.

"What are we doing down here?" he asked, unable to hide the impatience from his voice.

"I thought you might want your things back," Sai said simply, removing the lid on one of the containers. "It should be all there; clothes, trinkets, money. Everything except your weapons; those you'll have to earn the right to keep."

Link was struck mute by the sudden turn of events; he hadn't expected his escape to be so easy.

"Hurry, would you?" Sai prompted when he stood there, unmoving. "Put on some clothes and we can leave."

"What's the rush?"

"You said you wanted a part in all this?" Sai said, flashing him a quick grin. "I'll give you the start you need to make something of yourself. You'll start at the bottom, though; a nobody, just like everyone else. You'll have to work hard, and prove your merit, but if you do, you've got a job."

I seem to have caught my second wind, he mused, grinning to himself as he pulled on a green shirt and black trousers. He pulled on brown boots, which he was surprised no-one had stolen. Looking over his possessions, he was surprised to find that everything was as he'd left it, just as Sai had promised.

"Do you have what you need?" he broke through his thoughts. Link merely nodded in answer. "Good, let's take our leave."

They replaced the containers as Link took note of their numbers, just in case. As they exited the stores, Sai rummaged around in his coat, searching its many pockets for something. He withdrew something from the deepest one, and before Link could ask him what it was, he tossed it at the Hylian. Link fumbled for it, surprised at the cool touch of metal in his palm. He looked up, surprised at what he'd just been given.

"If you are to prove yourself, you'll need both hands," the raven-haired man explained. Link looked at the metal appendage and grinned. Finally… now we're getting somewhere.

"Wait!" he shouted, sitting up suddenly. His chest heaved as if he'd been running for days and his body was coated in sweat. A… was it a nightmare? he wondered as he breathed heavily. Suddenly overcome with dizziness, he collapsed amid a swathing amount of sheets, his head cushioned by a thin pillow. He groaned as his lower back protested, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain. He gasped as his grew, burning his skin where he knew the poisoned bolt had pierced him.

When it subsided, he warily opened his eyes again, trying to figure out where he was. The small room he was in was cluttered with things; a small table and a single chair where just off to the side, where an assortment of medical supplies lay, spread out neatly. A chest sat under a window and next to a fireplace that spread warmth through the room. A well-worn rug that still held a twinge of purple dye within its fabric covered most of the floor.

Where… where am I?

The door out of the small room opened, a chill breeze washing over him as the night's darkness crept through the opening along with an old woman. She was hunched over with age, her face lined heavily and what little hair she had left was white as snow. Her blue eyes, dull and unseeing, focused upon him when he drew in a sharp breath.

"You're awake," she said, her voice matching her evident age. "Good…"

"I… I'm sorry, ma'am, but who are you?" he implored. "Where are we and how did I come to be here?"

"I got by many names," she muttered, shuffling across the floor to sit in a chair. "'The Witch of the Black Forest,' 'The Widower,' 'Old Hag of the Wilderness,'" she listed off, pulling an old pipe from within her robes. Despite being blind, she was able to refill the pipe and was soon puffing great rings above her head. "But you, my child, may call me Khuza."

"And this is your home?" he said, looking about as she puffed away.

"Yes, this humble shack is mine. As is that bed you're lying in."

"I'm sorry," he said hastily, throwing off the covers. That's when he noticed the bandages across his torso. What in the world… "What happened to me?" he demanded.

"I was hoping you might tell me," Khuza muttered, raising an eyebrow. "I was in my shack, getting ready for bed when the people came. The whole town, it seems, came rushing into my woods, shouting and waving torchlight. I had assumed they were hunting something, maybe a bear. As the night drew on, they still remained in my wood, quiet as the dead, searching, scuffling around the earth. Eventually, I fell asleep.

"Then, a commotion brought me to consciousness and I went outside to investigate. I had my lamp with me, not for my own needs," she explained, tapping a finger to her eye, "but so that the townsfolk would not panic upon hearing me approach. Quite suddenly, something fell to the ground as if from a great height not that far from me. I hurried to investigate, and happened upon you, my boy. I nearly tripped over your unconscious form.

"I smelled the blood in the air and heard your breathing become laboured. I assumed you had fallen from a tree and knocked yourself out. I might be a hermit, but I am not a cruel person. So I picked you up and dragged you to my hut, where I dressed what wounds I could find and let you rest."

"But how did you—"

"And then, lo and behold, the General himself comes a knocking on my door, demanding I open up. I went to tell him away, but he and a small party of men pushed past me and began ransacking my home. When they saw you, they accused me of harbouring a murderer! Imagine that! They tried to question you, but I stopped them. Eventually they left, vowing to return."

"But… I didn't do anything! At least… I don't think so," he was suddenly not so sure. There were gaps in his memory, things missing. "I can't remember…"

"That would be because of the poison," Khuza acknowledged. She rummaged through her robes, eventually extracting a short wooden pole, thick as his finger and tipped with flint. "A dart, or rather, an arrow was lodge in your back. When I removed it, it smelled of poison. I acted as fast as I could, but if your memory's damaged, then there might still be remnants of it in you yet. Tell me boy, what is your name?"

"I… its…" he faltered. What was his name? He couldn't remember either. All he remembered was the smell of the sea, flashes of light and greenery, the moon against a black velvet sky and a sharp pain in the small of his back. "I don't know."

"Well, there's a possibility that you merely got caught in the crossfire, but we can't rule out guilt just yet," Khuza said as she wriggled her toes. "I can't, in good conscious let you wander about the woods, wounded and sick. You will stay here and recuperate. Or until you can remember who you are and what your purpose is."

He really didn't think he had much of a choice. Despite her aged look, he had the feeling that the old woman was capable of feats few men could ever hope to accomplish. He sat in the bed, quiet in the gloom as Khuza finished her pipe.

"Do you think they might come back for me?" he asked eventually, fearful.

"I don't know, dear boy," she answered truthfully. "Most likely, yes. They claimed you had murdered a very powerful man, a Zora noble."

I couldn't have… I'm not a murderer, I know I'm not! he battled with his uncertainty.

"Now then," the old woman said, clapping her hands to get his attention. "It's late and I am increasingly tired. No need to get out of bed," she raised a hand, stopping him before he swung his legs over the side, "I am more than comfy enough in my chair. I suggest you rest your body. Your mind is addled by the poison and the only way to combat it is with a well-rested mind."

He agreed, having become drowsy himself. The adrenaline that had kept him awake through the night had finally edged off and he was feeling exhausted. I'm in no condition to do anything, he realized as he lay back down. I might as well get what rest I can, especially if those men come for me. Somehow I doubt I'd get a good night's sleep in prison.

And if what she says is true, he glanced over at the woman, who had already fallen asleep, snoring lightly, then they're looking for someone to blame. I'm clearly an outsider, so it's only a matter of time before they pin me for something I didn't do.