All was silent in the empty, narrow passageways deep beneath the bowels of Death Mountain. Keese kept their bat-like wings motionless as they rested on the stone ceiling, content to hide within the curtain of shadows.. Lava churned restlessly within the stomach of the monstrous volcano above, sending small tremors that loosened pebbles from the ceiling on which the bats made their home. Deeper still, the darkness thickened like smog from a bonfire. Even the monsters that dwelled beneath the mountain dared not wander too far into the cold shadows without purpose.

It was into this endless abyss that Atrayu had been summoned.

The footfalls of the shifter echoed off the stone walls as her boots clomped against the cold, rocky ground beneath her. The dark tunnel seemed to stretch for miles, though it was impossible to tell for sure. Atrayu felt a wave of claustrophobia grow beneath her skin the further she descended. Physically, the tunnel was narrowing to the point where it was easier to continue as a wolf. Even more constricting was the darkness itself, which seemed to be thickening with every step. It was as if she were walking into a dense cloud; one that choked her spirit as much as it hindered her movements.

For too long she had been confined to this dark and depressing place. A spirit as wild as herself belonged traversing the wild forests, swimming the wide ocean, dashing across the vast plains. To be confined to a cavern for the last week while Zant plotted his next move was like trying to dam the flow of a river. To say her patience was growing thin would be an understatement. To pass the time and keep her instincts sharp, the shifter resorted to killing monsters for sport: keese, lizalfos, moblins; whatever she could find. Still, she could feel the stiffness in her muscles as she trotted.

Atrayu wondered if Mudora would be there as well. He seemed to be the one wielding the true power now. She had never gotten along with Zant, but he seemed like an old friend compared to this new interloper. Unable to place it, something about the ancient wizard unsettled her. With most people, she could easily evaluate them and discern their ambition using her keen instincts. Yet, this man, or maybe even demon, remained a mystery. He masked his true goals behind flowery words and a polite smile.

Her eyes cringed in the darkness from self-loathing. She had played a part in bringing him here.

"So this is where he slept?"

"Yes, Master. The entire time of our absence."

Atrayu's sensitive ears honed in on two voices resonating from further down the cavern: Zant and Mudora. It was unlikely they knew of her coming, so she listened in on their conversation as she slowed her pace. She was reaching the end of the endless tunnel at long last.

"I see. It would be quite difficult for anyone to find him down here."A short pause."So how did he escape?"

There was a long hesitation. Atrayu could almost imagine the fear on Zant's face.

"It was Midna's pet. He must've known how important the boy was to me and took him."

Now Mudora's voice, calm and stern as ever. "Yes, you more than anyone should know how important the boy is."He paused again. "I thought you told me there was little resistance left. That you had taken care of it."

Zant's voice was shaky. "That menace was supposed to be dead."A short pause. "Even thinking of his name brings venom to my tongue."

"And yet he lives."Atrayu could see a small sphere of light flickering at the end of this dank tunnel. The light wasn't particularly inviting, as it cast an eerie bluish glow on the surrounding rocks. Even so, anything was better than this dark tunnel. They would soon hear her approaching.

"Zant, that is your current name, yes? Tell me, how strong is this hero and how would he know about the boy?"

Zant responded quickly. "It was an accident. He probably got lost in the tunnels and found himself here. He has a compassionate nature and likely took the boy away out of pity or something."A slight pause. "He has no idea of the boy's true nature. I am still baffled how he was able to awaken the boy in the first place. The spell was designed to prevent something like that from happening."

"And how much of a threat would you say this Link poses?"Mudora asked, his tone rising in interest. "It seems to me he is no ordinary human."

"If not taken care of soon, he could become troublesome. He even destroyed the man who freed me from my prison."

There was a long pause. At last, Mudora's voice echoed again. "Ganondorf, was it? I have heard of him. He could have been useful, but only for a time. Men like him that use such brutish methods are better off dead."Another pause and the slight sound of shuffling feet. "Anyways, it is good you fought the boy. We need to develop his potential."

Atrayu was nearly at the end of the long passageway.

"And you saw him at Aribiter's Grounds. What did you observe?

At last, Atrayu entered into the chamber where Mudora and Zant stood waiting. They halted their conversation and looked expectantly at her. As she shifted back into her human form, she immediately observed her surroundings.

All of the walls and ceilings were illuminated in the same eerie blue light from earlier. This light emanated from two bronze torches, the height of an average man, with ghostly blue flames that reached for the ceiling. Between the two torches stood a stone altar about six feet long where one might offer a sacrifice. The walls were covered with the maroon of crusted blood,broken chains, and crumbling shackles, giving the room the appearance of an abandoned prison. Large gargoyle statues about ten feet tall loomed overhead on either side, towering over anything else in the room. On the opposite side of the room stood the only other exit—an arched passageway leading deeper into the shadows with the eye of the Sheikah carefully watching over the entrance.

"At last, you have arrived, noble shifter." Mudora said politely. He greeted her with a friendly smile. She returned his gesture with a grunt.

"You took your time getting here," Zant said, the earlier fear in his tone replaced by his usual gruffness. "Tell me, do you know where you are?"

Wherever she was, the place rotted of stagnation and death. She thought she could hear faint shrieks in the doorway beyond, but she steeled her resolve to ignore them. The room was cold and emotionless, emphasized by the hard stone covering the floor.

The shifter raised her eyebrows and scowled at the two men. "Should I care? The sooner I leave this goddess-forsaken place, the better."

Zant ignored her response. "This is a sacred place known as the Shadow Temple. It was once guarded by an ancient tribe and serves as the gateway between our world and the Underworld."

The shifter looked disinterestedly at her claws. As long as she had something to focus on, she could suppress her growing unease about this room. "History bores me. Just tell me why I was dragged down here."

Mudora kept silent but didn't take his eyes off Atrayu. He observed her carefully, making the shifter very uncomfortable. His piercing eyes seemed to expose her weaknesses without even trying. He smiled knowingly to himself but kept his thoughts hidden.

At last, Zant answered her question, though not as she would've liked. "I thought a change of scenery was in order," he said. "It reminds me of the Twilight I hate so much. At any rate, I have your final assignment."

"And what might that be?" Atrayu replied, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

Zant grabbed a handful of pebbles from the ground and squeezed them in his fist. "There is a certain man who has always been a thorn in my side. I need you to eliminate him by whatever means necessary." The tyrant dropped the pebbles into one of the torches and watched as the flames mercilessly consumed them. The blue light reflected off his face and illustrated the powerful hatred in his features.

Atrayu watched his illustration and yawned. "Another assassination? I'm not your librarian anymore?"

"Don't play coy with me!" Zant snapped as he turned sharply in the shifter's direction. "With an attitude like that, your opponent will rip you apart."

"I'm shaking in my boots." Atrayu said dryly. "So who's life am I cutting short this time?"

"Link."

The shifter's eyes widened with interest. "Wait. I thought you…"

Zant shook his head. "He's alive. That's why your next mission is to change that."

Atrayu couldn't resist a sly smirk. "Have to always clean up after your messes, do I?" She received an immense satisfaction as the usurper king bit his lip hard.

Mudora chuckled to himself. "From the sounds of it, I would say killing this 'Link' will not be as simple or easy as you would like."

Zant glared at Mudora but held his tongue.

Atrayu edged for the door. "So Link is still alive? This certainly makes things interesting." She eyed the two men. "Is that all?"

Zant nodded. "Return here with his dead body and you will receive your pay just as we agreed." There was a threat lingering in his voice. "But return only if you succeed."

Atrayu was now close to the exit. "Zant, do you honestly think your pathetic rupees motivate me or your threats scare me?"

The tyrant raised an eyebrow while Mudora smiled confidently to himself. "What are you getting at, Atrayu?"

The shifter emboldened her tone. "Rest assured, I will deal with Link but not for your sake."

"Is this going where I think it is?" Zant warned.

The shifter smirked in defiance. "That depends on if your feeble brain can understand me." She could sense the rising irritation in the tyrant's features. He was biting his lip hard enough to make it bleed and his eyebrows were sloped like small hills. Her prudence told her to leave quickly. "I've never been your minion, Zant, though you've certainly treated me like one. I have larger ambitions, so this is the end of our 'partnership.' Have fun doing your own dirty work."

Atrayu shifted back into her wolf form and dashed out the way she had come. She could hear Zant's footfalls as he attempted to come after her. The shifter was relieved when she heard Mudora's voice in the distance bringing the tyrant to a halt like a mother scolding a child.

"Let her be. Her usefulness to us has ended."

Atrayu could already imagine the sunshine on her face once again as she trotted up the long slope back to the surface. The darkness that had choked her throughout the entire meeting was beginning to thin much to her relief. She could look forward to a future without Zant's shadowy hand hovering over her.

Now it was time to find Link and pay him a visit long overdue.

Ever since the absence of Queen Zelda, the atmosphere of Hyrule Castle had changed significantly. The warmth of the monarch's smile that pushed back even the chilliness of the castle's stone structure was nowhere to be found. The air that had once been sweetened by the fragrance of her perfume now reeked with must and wet rock. Scars riddled the walls like pimples from Scorpio's attack only days earlier. Even the servants that diligently worked to keep the castle in order worked slower and with less vitality. Ramiro did his best to keep them in line, but even his feigned sternness was not enough to hide the wrinkles of anxiety and fear that tormented the faithful servant in his sleep each night. The castle and its inhabitants functioned like a machine; devoid of life and with little purpose. Each day they toiled, their ears attentive for any news of the monarch they had come to respect and love.

Only one person was as ambitious as ever: the man responsible for this state of affairs.

As Durian Anarvi sat in the private study normally reserved for the monarch, his fingers tapped impatiently on the same desk that Zelda had been sitting in before the attack on the castle. Though he had obtained the very power he had sought, he was still not satisfied. To the people, he was nothing more than a steward—someone to run the country until their beloved monarch returned in a blaze of glory. Indeed, that was all he was for the present. Others with power, such as Captain Geoffrey, still sympathized with the Queen. As long as people like him were watching, Durian was powerless to do anything but pretend to search for the very person he had disposed of or risk raising suspicions.

But why should he not have the power he clearly deserved? After all, his loathing was not for the country of Hyrule, but only its former ruler. The reconstruction of Hyrule would be his first priority. Fortifying the castle, reclaiming territories, assessing damages; the road to recovery was long and grueling, but Durian knew his abilities could accomplish this. The only thing standing in his way was the memory of a woman that never should have ruled in the first place.

First, he would need to gain control over Hyrule's armed forces and reorganize it. With over half of their forces decimated in the last few battles and many more injured, Hyrule would need a way to defend herself. Furthermore, it would allow Durian to consolidate his power and make further changes. Unfortunately, all of this would be impossible as long as Geoffrey remained captain. His loyalties would not deviate from Zelda for any sum of money.

Yet, even if the Duke of Crimea surmounted this first obstacle, there remained a second and more formidable one: the love of the people for their former monarch. Persuading the Royal Council to support him would be as easy as throwing them a few extra favors, but the people would not be so easily swayed. If he did not govern carefully, the people might accuse him of overstepping his bounds. After all, if he did anything but what Zelda would have done, it would not take long for the peasants to vent out their dangerously high confusion and frustration with pitchforks and torches.

Fortunately for him, the nation was recovering from war. Foreign invasions combined with poor crops and other difficulties make great catalysts for change. Subjects become angry and discontented and look to the monarchy either as an object of salvation or of wrath. To win their hearts, he must become that object of salvation while simultaneously diverting their wrath and discontent toward the memory of Zelda. For the latter, he would have to shatter the saintly image they had of her. It was a well known political fact that every monarch, no matter how wise or moral, soil themselves with controversial decisions that serve as potential blackmail.

It was the search for this blackmail that caused Durian to settle into Zelda's personal library. Somewhere, amidst these shelves could be found the secret archives containing what he sought so fervently. He opened another one of her desk drawers, thumbed through several of the letters, and put them disappointingly back in their place. He had done this for several hours already and was ready to search elsewhere when several large envelopes caught his eye buried at the very bottom of the stack.

He lifted the suspicious stack to the desk, the top paper being an elegant ocean blue envelope, and eyed it carefully. There, written in gold ink, was the distinct signature of the late Zora Queen, Rutela. The wrinkled letter crinkled as Durian took it out of the envelope and straightened it out so he could read it. As his eyes glanced over the fancy calligraphy of the Zora Queen, a devious smile crossed his lips.

When Zant attacked seven years ago, the Zora were among his first targets. It was believed that the tyrant had come without warning and decimated the tribe, killing their queen and leaving the rest to freeze in a glacier indefinitely. He had come too swiftly for Hyrule to help.

This letter told the true story.

As it turns out, the Zora had sent several urgent letters, this being one of them, requesting military aid. Zelda, for whatever reason, whether fear or inexperience as a new ruler, had purposely ignored all of these. Desperate within their final hour, the Zora had no choice but to send their own prince as a personal messenger. As ill fate would have it, monsters overtook him before he could arrive. With no one to aid them, the Zoras watched in horror as their Queen was murdered in front of their eyes and they themselves were left to die in an icy tomb.

Durian furrowed his brows as he placed the letter in a pocket of his doublet. He looked at the small stack and picked up the second letter. The manilla-colored envelope had a much more unkempt style to it than the first. He opened up the crinkled old letter and found it to be from Renado, the shaman of Kakariko Village. The letter hit all too close to home as he read the shaman's pleas to the ruler of Hyrule to send aid to the small village by Death Mountain. Similar to the Zora, Zelda had ignored the request, and the village had nearly been driven to extinction save for Renado and his daughter, Luda.

Durian smiled maliciously as he pocketed this letter as well. How would the people of Hyrule react when they discovered their ruler was a selfish, spineless coward? Or when they discovered she had let their loved ones die without lifting a finger?

The Duke of Crimea eyed the remainder of the stack with interest. As he glanced through the letters, most of them were addressed to or from a man named Link. Most of the correspondences seemed to be more akin to fairy tales than letters, mentioning wind tamers, wolf-men, a mysterious princess named Midna, and the sacred Triforce. Even so, he pocketed the letters in case. After all, rumors of an affair would only add fuel to the fire that would inevitably burn Zelda's reputation to the ground.

Satisfied, Durian closed the desk drawer and pushed the chair back into the desk. Looking around the room, he had to marvel at how professional Scorpio was. There was little evidence of a struggle. All of the books were in place; stacks of papers in order. He thought he could see a smidgen of crimson blood on one of the walls, but he paid it no mind.

Exiting the room, Durian turned the corner and walked down the carpeted hallway. The craters from Scorpio's attack were still evident in the chiseled stone walls; a minor price to pay for where he was now. The hallway windows provided little light anymore; clouds covered the sky perpetually like a thick, wool blanket. With summer at an end, the gusts of autumn were beginning to chill the castle. The torches that burned in the hallways provided the only adequate heat and light nowadays.

"I still can't believe the Cap'n would do such a thing," a voice gossiped in the distance.

"In the middle of a battle no less," a second voice continued the conversation.

The first voice again. "Why when we needed him most?"

By this time, Durian had turned the corner and reached the two idle soldiers that served as the source of the conversation. They were young lads, probably new recruits promoted too quickly in an effort to aid the war. As he walked nonchalantly up to them, they stiffened like trees and saluted.

"Lord Anarvi!" they said instinctively.

"Gentlemen," Durian greeted. The soldiers eyed him nervously as the ambitious steward looked each of them over. "What were you two talking about just now?"

"Nothing, Lord Anarvi." The first replied quicker than a child caught stealing food by his mother.

Durian placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "It's okay, boy. I'll pretend like I didn't see you two shirking your duty." A kind but sinister smile formed on his lips. "Just tell me what you were saying about the Captain."

"Horon Village?" Geoffrey said incredulously as he sat on one of the beds in the military barracks. Several of the other soldiers looked at him strangely, to which the proud captain turned away. He once again looked at the letter folded in his hand.

"It was a bad dream." He said quickly. This explanation seemed to satisfy his fellow soldiers and they went back to their business. Meanwhile, he turned his thoughts inward. My Queen, why didn't you tell me so I could join you?

Somehow, he could already imagine her answer: he would have tried to stop her.

He read through the letter once again.

Geoffrey,

I don't have much time, but I want you to know I am safe with Link and several others. Something has come up that I cannot write here that requires my attention. Currently, I am in Horon Village, but I do not know how much time longer we will stay here. Please keep a careful eye on Durian for me. I entrust Hyrule to you in my absence. Please do not tell anyone what I have written here, and please burn this letter when you are finished with it.

Zelda

The captain ripped the letter to shreds and threw it into the fire as per her instructions. When he was done watching the scraps turn to charcoal powder, he directed his gaze to the rest of the room. It was saddening to see just how many soldiers were lying confined to their beds while they recovered from injuries. Several had limbs removed and were fighting serious infections. Those more fortunate suffered only broken bones or small puncture wounds. Even so, watching once proud soldiers limp across the barracks was heartbreaking to a captain that devoted his all to his men.

That was more than could be said of the cowards who had remained in the back lines. Geoffrey had nothing but scorn and disdain for them. For every good soldier he had willing to risk their life, there were about two more filled with lethargy and cowardice all too eager to preserve it. The less than stellar leadership of Captain Nadal had unfortunately contaminated the army like sewage does to a mountain lake.

Even so, he couldn't really complain. His men had held off the enemy as best as they could. Even the more cowardly lot had enough backbone to fight for their country instead of running away, so he credited them that much. Perhaps there was some potential for them after all. Regardless, as the new captain, he would purge the cowardice and complacency with rigorous discipline. He would see to it as soon as he was feeling well enough to fight once again.

His thoughts turned back to the letter. He wondered just what sort of mission was important enough to keep Zelda away from Hyrule. He wished he could be at her side to protect her. But alas, he was barely in good enough shape to walk since his fight with Atrayu. All he could do was entrust the safety of Her Majesty to Link while he kept an eye on things at home.

Geoffrey decided he was sick of lying around and got up to stretch his legs. His entire body was sore with scrapes from his battle with Atrayu. Luckily, his men had found him before he lost too much blood. Dr. Borville was able to revive him and put him on the road to recovery. However, because of his injuries, he was supposed to rest as much as possible until his body regained strength. Still, he had to be an example to his men and couldn't show weakness by succumbing to his injuries. As he placed a small amount of pressure on his legs, he could feel the stinging from the scrapes on his calves. It would be painful, but he wanted to walk around and lend encouragement to the men that were suffering more than himself.

Now that he knew Zelda was safe, Geoffrey could rest much easier. He slowly placed more weight on his feet and stood up from his bed. Stings of pain shoot up his leg as he contracted his leg muscles to move. Nonetheless, his steel resolve kept the pain from showing on his face. As he walked along the barracks, the captain greeted as many of the soldiers as he could and gave them an encouraging word or an affirmative pat. Some responded positively; others shrugged his kind gesture off. It was understandable—he knew several were envious of his swift promotion while others were still loyal to the old captain. It only meant that he would have to work harder.

Geoffrey took the painful walk out of the barracks to Hyrule Castle's outer courtyard. He was in need of some fresh air after being stuck in a bed for so long. Yet, as he looked around, a sudden sadness tugged at his heart.

All around the usually beautiful gardens lay the cruel reality of war. Amidst the bright flowers were scattered the gloomy faces of those who had lost their home. Sitting by the refreshing water were hungry refugees using the fountain to satisfy their never-ending thirst. What was left of families huddled together against the stone wall wearing the only tattered clothes they had brought with them, embracing one another for support. Written on all the faces he passed were desperation, confusion, and longing hope.

A young woman kneeling alone by a flower garden caught the captain's attention. She remained motionless as he approached her, causing him to wonder if she had even noticed his presence. With eyes closed and hands clasped, she directed her gaze towards the ground and spoke softly to herself.

Geoffrey placed a reassuring hand on the young woman's shoulder, causing her to jump. Her short, black hair waved through the air as she turned her head sharply, observing her surprise visitor with kind brown eyes. Her left cheek was bruised, her arms were red with scrapes, and her clothes were ripped in a few places. Even so, she possessed a certain calmness in her bearing that Geoffrey immediately noticed.

"I apologize if I interrupted you," Geoffrey began, "but I was curious to see what you were doing."

"I was praying," came the response. "I was praying to the Goddesses to bring healing to our troubled land."

Geoffrey laughed to himself. "Praying? People still do that?"

The young woman scowled and returned to her previous position. "Well, if you are not interested in prayer, then I would ask you to leave. As you can see, I am quite busy." She sighed. "After all, we cannot hope to get through this on our own strength."

Guilt flooded over the captain. The Queen had always talked about the importance of prayer and a strong faith. Yet, as much as he respected Zelda, Geoffrey had only listened half-attentively. After all, what good did mumbling a bunch of words do to someone that couldn't even be seen? With enough hard work and determination, he could do anything. This value had been taught by his father, Auru, and had served him well his entire life. Gods and goddesses were things for legends and stories.

Yet, as he watched this humble young woman pray diligently, the Captain couldn't help but feel the heat of embarrassment and guilt. He attempted to kneel beside her but collapsed to his side from the pain of his injuries. Mustering up some strength, he climbed back to his knees and fought the pain by gritting his teeth. There he waited awkwardly until the young woman spoke to him again.

"Why are you still here?" she said bitterly after some time. Her posture remained unchanged.

Geoffrey was silent. He was wondering the same thing himself.

"Did you hear me?" the young woman asked again.

"Yes, I did." The captain responded at last. He hesitated for a moment. "I suppose I am curious. Do you really think you'll be heard?"

The young woman smiled. "I do not think so. I know so."

The confidence of her answer surprised the captain. "And what are you praying for?"

The prayer warrior continued steadfast in her position. "Look around you. That is who I am praying for. Every single person here."

Geoffrey looked around at all the hurting people. "There must be hundreds here."

The young woman responded. "I told you I was very busy."

The captain marveled at this young woman's faith. In all his travels, he had met only one other person this dedicated.

"Tell me, do you know a man by the name of Renado?"

The young woman tensed at the name. Her small sniffle did not escape the Captain's notice. "Yes, I do. He was my father."

"Then that makes you…"

The young woman finally opened her eyes. "Luda, his only daughter." A small tear rolled quickly down her cheek. "I am continuing what he started."

Geoffrey let out a heartfelt sigh. "Your father was one of the kindest people I have ever met." The captain looked to the cloudy sky as he reminisced. "During the battle in Kakariko, Renado refused to leave until every last person was safely evacuated. He truly valued the lives of others above his own."

Luda nodded. "He was a great man. I just hope I can follow the same path he did."

Geoffrey smiled and patted Luda affirmatively on the back. "You already are." He clasped his hands together and looked to the sky. "Perhaps we should say a prayer for your father together, wherever he is."

Luda became quiet. "I would like that."

The two knelt together while Luda led the prayer. Geoffrey listened carefully and nodded in agreement. Though he was still skeptical of the whole concept, it felt good to comfort someone in their hurt. As he rose to his feet at the prayer's conclusion, he felt a strange sensation that he couldn't describe; like he had caught a brief glimpse of something beyond the reality he knew.

"Thank you, sir." Luda said. "I know the Goddesses heard us."

Geoffrey smiled. "I'm sure they did. And you can call me…"

"Captain Geoffrey!" Several soldiers called out as they pushed through the crowded garden towards him.

"Yes, I suppose that works," the Captain said with a laugh. He gave Luda a quick salute. "Stay diligent with the rest of your prayers, Luda."

Luda gave a playful salute back. "Yes, sir."

Geoffrey left the young woman to continue as he walked to meet his soldiers.

"What is it, men?" Geoffrey asked.

"Captain Geoffrey!" the first soldier responded as he reached the captain. Much to the captain's surprise, he was thrown to the ground while the soldier took his arm and twisted it behind his back. The second soldier was soon there with some rope. Geoffrey felt his hands go limp from lack of circulation as they tied his wrists tightly together. The third soldier continued the sentence the first had started.

"Captain Geoffrey, you have been accused of high treason. You are hereby under arrest for your role in the abduction and disappearance of Queen Zelda."

Well, it took a little while to get this chapter up. Hope you all enjoyed it. Also a quick shout out to one of my reviewers who wanted Luda included in the story. Don't know if you are still reading this, but letting you know I heard your request and decided to put her in. For the rest of you, if you have something you'd like to see in future chapters, put it in a review and you never know...you just might see your idea in a future chapter. As always, reviews are encouraged and appreciated!

Hopefully next chapter will be up before I go to Italy in two weeks.