An armored goliath of flesh overlaid with metal and standing four meters tall cut a swathe through the crowded streets. With both hands it held a crude stone mace against its shoulder, staring blankly across the heads of the crowd with eyes far too small for a being its size.

Darknut

Zelda could have reached out and touched it as she passed. Its labored breathing reached her ears even across the patter of a thousand feet all scratching against the ground at once.

It was the only creature assigned to the district, but it was all that was necessary.

Five blocks right and a turn left from their point of origin was where she found the Grand Library, a building standing five stories high and topped with a spherical glass dome, while a brass arch marking the entryway. The double doors she remembered had been replaced by a far less conspicuous single door constructed from reinforced metal with an off-colored slat near the top where someone from inside could look out.

She leaned against the door and rapped against it twice with the knuckle of her index finger.

A long pause.

She looked out across the sea of unfamiliar faces, searching for Saria.

The slat of the door slid open before she could complete her search. Standing up straight, she met the gaze of the doorman—one that she recognized by the youth behind the grey eyes.

"Shad," she said.

"Marie," the person behind the door said, "or is it Zelda now? Still fighting the good fight? Or have you resigned yourself to venting your anger through murder?"

"Open the door, Shad."

"I don't think so. I'm not going to be victim to your moral lapses."

Zelda considered his words for a moment.

"Do you still keep that pistol behind the door?" she said.

Shad seemed taken aback by the question. "If yo—"

Zelda jammed two fingers through the slat in the door into Shad's eyes. He stumbled back, clutching his face as Zelda pushed open the door, forcing Shad back.

He was a small man. Short brown hair; rectangular spectacles. In his face was all the strength of youth, but in his body was none of the power to use it. He scrambled backwards across the library's wooden floor while trying pushing himself to his feet, ending his journey within the library's primary, circular room, each additional floor held up by white marble pillars.

Zelda, in turn, shut the door behind her and snatched the flintlock pistol from its rack fastened to the back of the door and pointed it at Shad. "If I were you, I would invest in something more secure," she said as she lifted her chin and cast her gaze about the vast confines of the library.

She heard footsteps from behind.

"Ah, Saria," Zelda said without looking, "I worried that the Hero would slow you down. Thank you for proving me wrong."

Saria stepped past her, paying little attention to the fallen Shad, lifting her head and spinning around as she looked to the library's upper levels, two of which sat empty. "Mistress, they've taken some."

"I noticed." Zelda brought the barrel of the pistol up against her shoulder. "But Ganon doesn't know what we know. We'll have enough to work with."

A second set of footsteps from behind.

"Hero," said Zelda, looking back and nodding to the shadowy form that had entered the library behind them several seconds later.

She pointed the gun at Shad at he tried to skitter away. "I guarantee that, if I pulled the trigger, no one would miss you," said Zelda.

Zelda glanced back at the Hero.

"Watch him," she said as she tossed the gun to Link.

He cradled it in his hands and stared. "…what is it?"

After a moment, she took the pistol and handed it instead to Saria. "Saria—"

Saria nodded.

Zelda smiled. She made for a narrow spiral staircase leading up to the upper levels, taking the steps two at a time. The Master Sword was always kept in a place of worship—even if all that remained of that place was crumbled stone and forgotten stories.

The four floors were divided into millenniums, while each floor's sections were split into centuries. All items in the archive were arranged alphabetically according to the last name of the creator, while items pertaining to the construction of the royal family's castle were categorized under their last name instead—Harkinnian.

She knew what it was she had to find.

Zelda ran an index finger across a long row of thickly bound tomes, reading across the each name till she stumbled across a section of a shelf separated from the collection proper by two bookends. Three large crimson tomes marked "Harkinnian" seemed to jut out from the shelf, giving themselves to her.

She struggled for several moments to position all three books comfortably, her arms struggling to maintain balance as she wobbled back down the narrow spiral staircase.

Link took one from her and made her way to a thick wooden table positioned on the far side of the room.

"Mistress," Saria said, maintaining a hold on her pistol, "what are we looking for?"

"Something," said Zelda, dropping both tomes onto the table with a tremulous thump. "The Master Sword was moved, but I don't know where."

"Moved?" said Link, leaning forward onto the table, where his fingers seemed to dye the wood a deep black.

"The Royal Family requested that Parliament move the Master Sword to Capital City so that it could be made readily available to whoever needed it." Zelda sat down in one of the many chairs lining the table and peeled open the cover of the first book, revealing a long list of signatures on the first page of those who had contributed to its contents.

"Then where is it now?"

"That information died with the Royal Family."

Link narrowed his eyes, cutting the glow of red they cast. "And you?"

Zelda met the Hero's gaze. "My parents were executed when I was two. What is it you would expect me to remember? Nannies and rattles?"

The Hero did not continue his questioning, but neither did he look upon Zelda with trust.

Zelda carefully turned each page, scanning the names and records listed before moving to the next, passing each word without enthusiasm. Each page was divided into three crammed columns: one for the builder, one for the name given to the project, and one for date of completion.

Her mind wandered elsewhere as she read, hiding in a dark corner where it could contemplate.

She ran her index finger down each page, smudging some of the ink when bits of sweat fell to her finger tip.

Her journey into the first ended prematurely. Zelda eased the cover shut and pushed it aside, moving onto the second, a book identical in form and layout to the first. She scanned it

Again, nothing of note.

Her mind lingered in the dark.

An odd feeling accompanied the opening of the third—not a fear that she might have failed, but a rising bubble of anticipation in her stomach as she drove herself ever closer to her goal.

But from that feeling grew an ill hypothesis.

Her index finger slowed to a stop in the center of a new page.

A single entry stood out from the thousands of signatures scrawled into the tiny lines. It lacked both name and date, and was identified by a single, meaningless word written with haste in the center column:

Power.

Zelda looked from her work to find that some hours had passed. The Hero had retreated some distance away, leaning back in a chair with his eyes closed, propping the front legs of the chair up with his feet.

Saria maintained watch over Shad, who had sulked his away across the room to the stone wall separating the library from the next building over, casting antagonistic glances at his young captor.

Zelda stood up and ran a hand through her hair, noting that a shower was long overdue.

"Saria," she said, approaching the girl from behind and placing a hand upon her shoulder.

The girl's body relaxed. She turned her head to meet Zelda with bright, innocent eyes that bore both innocence and maturity. "Mistress?" the girl said.

"You may relieve yourself."

Saria registered the meaning of the words and returned the pistol to Zelda before uncomfortably wobbling off towards a corridor on the far left side of the room.

Zelda paced before Shad, who hid his fear well. The area between them was bare, while the wall behind Shad was stone—solid and without escape. She paced and considered. "Tell me, Shad," she said, her voice calm, but without any hint of intent, "what is it you live for, knowing that so many people have died for you?"

Shad said nothing, but his eyes no longer bore confidence. His robe—an elaborate, sewn thing composed of a multitude of blues and greys—neatly masked the quaking of his body. He held his arms inches away from his body, as though he were unsure what to do with them.

His eyes never ventured far from the weapon in Zelda's hands.

"I remember how easily you kowtowed to him," said Zelda, glancing to the corridor down which Saria had disappeared. "While I fought, you profited."

Shad was silent.

"Coward."

Zelda considered the tool of fate she held. She considered—and lifted it, the firing mechanism primed. Though her own weapon of choice was remained the keen blades of old, she appreciated what effort had gone into constructing such a piece of art against which mere man was powerless.

"I heard a rumor once," she said, "an innocent little thing."

Zelda looked to Shad with empty eyes.

"Someone once told me that you opened the gates for Ganon's Legion during the siege of Capital City." She aimed the pistol at Shad's neck and stared down the crudely constructed iron sights. "Is that true, Shad?"

Shad looked to the right

"I thought so."

The explosion of power sent shockwaves up her arm. Sparks flared from the muzzle-end and blew smoke up towards the ceiling.

At the last moment, Shad brought his hands up to cover his face.

The smoke cleared.

The shot had imbedded itself in the stone to the right of Shad's head.

Zelda lowered the pistol, only to be grabbed and pushed to the ground before she could prepare herself.

"What are you doing?" hissed the familiar voice of the Hero, the inky texture of Link's skin spreading an uncleanly sensation across her own.

Despite her predicament, Zelda maintained control. She calmed herself—her heart—and spoke evenly. "Shad is responsible for everyone who died in Capital City. And if Ganon's Legion turns on the Kokria, then he will be twice the murderer."

The Hero's grip faltered, but did not loosen.

"Look at his face. He could write a confession with it."

Which Link did. He found Shad quivering against the wall where Zelda confronted him. His left arm shook, but it was to his face that the Hero was drawn. It revealed fear—a primitive, instinctual fear that had reacted to the shot—but when Shad at last met Link's gaze, it revealed something deeper.

Guilt; words unspoken, but left ajar by the windows to the soul.

Shad's left arm continued to shake; his face contorted in pain.

The Hero released Zelda. His gaze lingered on Shad for a moment before Link turned away, putting several paced between himself and the others. He hugged himself, though it provided little comfort.

"Mistress?"

Saria returned at that moment, using her sleeves to wipe away what remained of the water.

Link stared at the floor.

Zelda pushed herself to her feet. "We're done here, Saria" she said. "We have what we came for. 'Power' is a code word. Simple, but effective enough at keeping people out if they don't know the depth of what they're looking for."

She withdrew the golden pocket-watch and stared it at it for several moments.

"Hero—" She pointed very lazily at Link. "—loosen those muscles. Make sure that left arm of yours can take a blow or several."

Zelda redirected her gaze to assistant, where her expression softened.

"Saria—I would tell you to bunker down and wait here, but that would kill you. It's Ganon's influence—once we undertake the final step, he'll come after us. Everything you've ever heard about him will come down in a raging storm."

Shad's face turned red as he clamped his jaw shut in pain, still clutching his left arm. Only Link took notice, kneeling beside the scholar. His hands hovered uncomfortably above Shad's left shoulder. "He's having a heart attack!" said Link at last in frustration.

Zelda waved a hand. "Leave him. A small price for all he's done."

Link stood, torn between physically confronting Zelda and remaining at Shad's side to offer what little assistance he could. The hero seethed, his eyes overflowing with a treacherous anger he struggled to control. "We're not leaving him to die."

"Aren't we?" Zelda met his anger with a cold confidence. "You left an entire nation to die, yet here you are facing down death to protect the life of a traitor?"

"You're not Zelda."

The brief, uttered accusation struck somewhere within Zelda. She shifted her stance and tilted her head, narrowing her eyes further. "No? Would you rather that I hide away in a tower and wait for a dashing hero to rescue me?"

"Zelda would have cared."

Though its shot was spent, Zelda aimed the flintlock pistol at Link's neck. "I will do this with you, Hero, or I will do this without you. You are an accessory to this quest—one that I could do without. I have performed impossible deeds before—a sword in a stone doesn't worry me."

"Zelda!"

The young girl with green hair elicited a name Zelda had not once heard her speak. Saria placed both hands on Zelda's weapon-arm and pushed down, lowering the gun.

Zelda accepted the motion after some hesitation.

Her gaze moved to Saria and lingered there, softened by the girl's hand.

A long moment of silence.

Zelda lowered her gun. "We're leaving. Hide your sympathy away if you have to, because Shad is staying here."

The Hero's glower, but said nothing. His left hand twitched, obeying an instinct that compelled him to draw a sword from where one did not exist. When his anger refused to dim, he turned his gaze to the floor, venting his energy through heated breaths.

Zelda turned to leave.

"You're evil," he said at last.

Zelda paused and turned her head to the left, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "I know," she said.