A pair of feet the color of burnt wood danced across the stone floor of the palace, black droplets marking their path in blotches. They belonged to a lithe woman, all dark, covered in robes. In her hands were the hilts of curved blades that extended to her shoulders. She held her face low, beads of sweat dripping from her brow. All around her, the remnants of something evil billowed, lashing out and gripping at her. She dodged swiftly, slicing away the wisps, only to find more at ready.

"What do you want from me?!"

The response was garbled roaring the woman could not understand.

The evil grew thicker and stronger, permeating the air. It surrounded her, engulfed her, rose up and contaminated all it sensed, leaving nothing left in the room but the cold touch of sin.

In her mind, the woman recalled the writings on the wall.

And as they three did fall,
So perfect as they were
He came from what they lacked
Was Naught, and Naught was all.

In Hyrule the desert is a sign of infinity. As the blonde swordsman parted the sands with each step, he began to understand why. The desert stretched on for more than just miles. It truly was infinite, so deep that the sands themselves became lost as they were blown by the wind. Besides the rolling dunes and occasional crevice, the only discernible feature on the horizon was the colossal stone tower close ahead. The swordsman had traveled quite far to reach where he was now. He was not afraid of what lay before him. Certain death had become a familiar friend in his travels over the past year.

In a way he was glad to be so close to death. He had little to lose now. His companion, beautiful as she was strong, was gone, dead at best. She had fallen to one of the patrols that had discovered them at least a month ago. He'd mourned her passing, though in the fashion required by the times. He grieved with those that had taken his companion, sharing his blade with them, and upon seeing this, they wept greatly, crimson tears pooling beneath their feet.

He missed home, the swordsman did. Though at this point he'd forgotten quite where it was. He remembered images, the peaceful hamlet in the southernmost reaches of Hyrule, with its gentle hills and rustic farms. This desert that had swallowed him whole had reminded him of the comfort of his old home, through merit of being quite the opposite. But it mattered little. The tower was here, sand fading into crafted stone.

The Arbiter's Ground.

The hallowed rock, which now surrounded the swordsman, seemed to shimmer in the midday sun.

Scripture and glyph alike decorated the ancient walls. Their story led deep into the Grounds, spiraling the tower with each new era. They spoke of wars, of gods and kings, and of those that were both. The swordsman felt a deep tension in his chest as he came closer to the top of the tower. He was not worried that he was the first to traverse these corridors since the times of old.

Rather, that he was second.

The final doors opened, and allowed light to pour into the filthy edifice. The traveler within was more concerned with the sight in front of him. The Mirror Chamber, as it had once been called, was empty. He walked to the center of the room, and surveyed it dismally. There was no mirror. There was no sealed door. And there was no Fused Shadow. Perhaps Sheik had been wrong.

A flicker of movement above the chamber drove the swordsman to brandish his blade, standing at ready for the last fight of his life. A shadow sped from the open roof to where he was standing. He turned and guarded, steel meeting steel and bringing energy to the dormant room around them. He saw a dark face for an instant, and then two blades in a deadly arc. He narrowly dodged and struck his opponent across the midsection. Black, greasy smoke emanated for only a moment, before the wound sealed itself. The shadow stood back for a moment, giving the swordsman time to study it.

It was clearly a woman, with a dark face and darker cowl. Her blades extended backwards to her shoulders- that was why she fought at such a short distance, and her eyes, a strange tone for a Hylian, screamed where her mouth remained shut. She dropped out of stance.

"Perhaps we should focus on our shared problem before we finish this."

The swordsman raised an eyebrow. His foe pointed behind him.

He turned, and immediately wished he hadn't.

It was a dragon; or the bones of one, bleach white, red-eyed, sharp-fanged. It coiled around the walls of the tower and stared the two fighters down, growling at their presence. Without delay, it opened its skeletal jaws and let loose a burst of flames that licked hungrily at everything they touched. The woman retreated to the poles above the tower, the man charged through the flames, moving too quickly to be burnt. He leapt with all his might, meeting the dragon in midair and letting his sword speak for him. The dragon understood the message, and roared in pain as a response. It seemed to instinctively grab its broken face before swiping at the swordsman, knocking him across the room.

It was his foe's turn now. She seemed to glide over the chamber, delving both her blades into one inhuman eye, and ripped them away. Her de facto cohort assisted by striking the other red glow, and as the dragon shook them both to the ground, it nearly fell from the tower wall.

"Allow me to finish this."

The shadow woman took a deep breath and extended her palms. She closed her eyes and began to focus, chanting unimpeded despite the raging demon only yards ahead. The swordsman simply stood back, allowing her to do her job. The beast began to shudder, pieces of bone becoming brittle and shattering at their joints. With one final bellow it died away completely, devastated head all that remained. The woman dropped to one knee, energy drained.

The swordsman hurried to the defeated skull, and reaching into the cracks, was elated to find what he'd been searching for. He removed a piece of black obsidian, and ran his hands over the surface. It was smooth and cool, but deep within he felt its primal energy begging to be released. He turned to the woman in the center of the room-

She was gone.

As soon as the panic of realization flooded through his mind, the swordsman felt something sharp push through his chest. A curved blade, now coated in his own blood, dripped red upon the sacred stone.

"I apologize for the cowardly maneuver. I would have preferred to defeat you in a fair fight. However, these are honorless times."

The swordsman choked on his own blood, and felt deep anger towards himself, towards this woman, towards everything in Hyrule.

"What is your name, swordsman? At least you will be remembered."

The defeated warrior raised his arm, only to grip the sword that had impaled him. To the shock of its wielder, he gripped it with the last of his strength, and shattered the fine edge. He turned to face the woman, and dropped to his knees, lacking the very strength to stand.

He exhaled one final time before collapsing, and for a moment, saw the face of a friend, one who'd been gone a long, long time.She stepped back a bit, and he gazed up to face her with hate in his eyes- before answering.

"It's Colin."

Hyrule Castle had been rebuilt since its destruction. Not to say it was beautiful now, rather it looked much worse than before. Even during the years when dusk and twilight ruled its halls, there was semblance of peace. Now that the shadows had taken hold, the citadel was transformed from the monument of order it once was, into a reminder that law had failed, and good been destroyed.

In the highest chamber, the throne room, a disinterested Ganondorf was perched upon the soft throne of the deposed Hylian King. It was much more comfortable than any chair he'd sat in, Ganondorf decided. Though that was perhaps due to the fact that he'd waited centuries to sit in it. In front of him a helmetless Zant paced frantically, waving his arms about as he ranted with his hyperventilated, high-pitched voice.

"And that's not counting the many times I've diligently done your bidding in these past seven years! I am yours to command, my liege! Why have I not been given the singular thing I asked of you?!"

Ganondorf laughed.

"Calm yourself, Twili. You'll get the Fused Shadow soon enough. For now, we lack the entire artifact. So I simply use the equipment at our disposal to locate the other pieces. Afterwards I assure you, both the Fused Shadow and the Realm of Twilight will be yours."

The conversation ended as a figure, escorted by two Darknuts, entered the room. It was the woman who Ganondorf had sent to collect the second piece of the Fused Shadow. She dropped to one knee in sync with the Darknuts in a salute to Ganondorf. He motioned for them to stand.

"My lord, the mission is done. There was but a single warrior there to oppose me. I dispatched him."

Ganondorf laughed. "Hah! The resistance certainly spreads itself thinly. And the Fused Shadow?"

The woman held out her palm and from it, something obsidian began to materialize. It floated to Ganondorf, who inspected its every facet.

"Excellent."

Zant began to lick his lips impatiently. Ganondorf turned to him.

"Do you see, Twili? It is all well under control. Soon you will be King of your realm."

With a muffled cry, Zant nodded, and excused himself from the room. Before he left, he turned to the woman who had brought the Fused Shadow.

"And you… what is your name?"

She gave a short bow, and spoke.

"Nabooru, sir."

Dark here. Double whammy this time around, eh? If you only knew what I have planned, hee hee hee. Anyway, I'm not one for shout-outs, but the response to this fic has been like nothing I've ever written before. So I'd like to thank Redgirl44, BlazeStarre, I.K.A. Valian, Kaylina the Gerudo and -0-Crimson-0-Nightshade-0-, who've submitted reviews to about every chapter. I appreciate the interest and support. This chapter's for you guys.

Next couple days I may only get one or two chapters written and posted, since I'll be on a plane back home to the States. 28 hours of flying.

Wish me luck.