Chapter 5

A soft clatter drew her from her slumber a few hours later. Midna bolted upright, straining to see in the darkness. The figure scampering down the flight of steps was thickly shaded but for the soft fur on its back that glistened in the pale moonlight like silk.

''Link?'' she called, and hurried towards him just as he tumbled down the last few steps to land in a heap of hair and claws on the ground. Breathing heavily, his large canine eyes fell on her, watching her woefully.

''Where in Nayru's name have you been?'' she sighed, plopping down in front of him and cradling his large head. He lay for a moment in her embrace, breathing heavily. Then he shook himself and crawled towards the wall where the sacred sword lay wrapped in its sheath of linen. Her eyes grew wide as its midnight blue hilt began to glow. A moment later, Link's whimpers and gyrations forced her to hurry out of the way. A rushing noise came from his body, smoke leaked out of his every pore and whirled to a dense ball before him. With a last, pained cry, Link emerged from the blackness and crumpled to his stomach. The shadow crystal came to a gentle halt on the cellar floor.

''Uh…'' he groaned, closing his eyes. As Midna slowly approached, she could see his limbs shaking.

''Are you okay? What happened to you?''

Heavy breaths delayed his answer, but as his eyes focused on her, he pushed himself to his knees. ''I tried to stop it, but it wouldn't let me. It just kept running and running. I don't even know how far we went…''

''What are you talking about?''

His clouded eyes finally met hers, and he slumped with shame. ''The Wolf. When I set it free, it… took control of everything. It was like my body was steered by someone completely different. I'm so sorry, Midna, I would have come right back if it'd let me.''

His hand then moved to his left side and gingerly covered the rapidly expanding blood stain there. Following his move, Midna gasped. ''Link, your wound!''

''I lost the bandage on my way back and the stitching ripped,'' he muttered, his voice thick with pain. ''I'm afraid I'll need your help with this.''

While she assisted him out of his undershirt and brought him the first aid kit, he told her of hours spent running, the Wolf's mind like a virus within his own that subjected him to the beast's every whim. Quickly he worked to free the cut of the dirt it had gathered with hands that, Midna noticed, were scraped and heavily blistered. In the light of the low fire she saw the twigs in his hair, the dirt dusting his face and neck, his skin shimmering with a discreet layer of perspiration. And right below his collarbone was a shallow cut, partly healed, where the crystal had made contact with his blood.

''It finally retreated when we got close to the river,'' Link said as he helped her in wrapping a clean bandage around his middle. Between Midna's inexperience and his sore fingers, they had both agreed themselves incapable of properly resuturing the stab wound.

''I'd nearly lost my bearings and had to follow the shore for several miles to get to the Faronian Giants,'' he continued. ''But it wasn't all that bad. I found an old road that bypasses the rift near the temple. I think it once led to the cathedral but is so overgrown that I could barely make it out. We can use that to get out of the grove. And the journey to Castle Town will be much easier now.''

''How so? If anything it'll be longer with the condition you're in, you can hardly walk.'' She pointed at his bare feet that matched his red and sore hands.

He only grinned as answer and staggered to his feet, beckoning her to follow him up the stairs. Frowning in confusion while trying to muffle the growling of her belly, she stepped out into the open, only to stop and flinch back with a gasp. Right before her stood a massive shape that blocked out the moonlight. Its four long legs were each as wide as a young tree and dwarfed her much like the forest had hours earlier.

''I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw her. Some say they have a sixth sense that guides them home, but this borders on divine intervention.''

Wide-eyed, Midna watched him wrap his arms around the enormous creature, and a nicker sounded from the beast.

''Is that your horse?'' she asked, and grew stiff when the animal lowered her imposing head to sniff her.

''She was walking down the Faron River towpath,'' Link answered, his voice heavy with emotion. ''If the Wolf hadn't run for half the day, I would never have found her. And she must have known it was me, because instead of running away she greeted me and followed me all the way back here.''

Grinning from ear to ear, Link buried his sweaty face in Epona's mane, stroking gently over her muzzle. Midna smiled to share in his exhilaration, but a feeling of regret soon settled over her that caused her to look away; with Epona there, Link would now have to divide his attention between them. She shuddered at her own hypocrisy – after having ignored him for three days, too absorbed in her own meditations, being forced to share his care with someone else was just what she deserved.

Epona had no way of making it down the steep staircase into the cellar, so Link bade her good night at the cathedral ruins before limping back to their sunken shelter. ''Don't worry, I didn't forget you either,'' he said and produced a large bundle of fur that he plopped to the ground between them.

Midna's eyes grew wide once again. ''What is that?''

''A rabbit. One more good thing about being a wolf; I'm actually fast enough to run after them. Come, I'll make you some meat skewers. You must be starving.''

Quickly the kill was skinned and gutted, a sight that made her stomach heave until she was forced to turn away. Link cut the meat into thin strips and poked them onto thin branches he crudely sharpened with his hunting knife. While they sizzled over the fire, Link collected the discards and tossed them into the brush outside before plopping down on the leaf mattress and tending to his blistered limbs. They sat in silence until the meat was cooked and Link leaned over to pick up a skewer.

''Here, this one's ready. Try a bite, but be careful. It's hot.''

Midna dug happily into the food. The tangy taste of freshly cooked meat felt good on her palate, a rich contrast to the fruit and vegetables she had been sustained with so far. When she reached for the third skewer, however, she stopped herself. There hadn't been much meat on the lean rabbit to begin with. Only two more sticks were left. At once her guilt returned, and she held the skewer out to Link instead.

A smile graced his lips at her move. ''Thanks, but I'm not hungry. There were three rabbits to begin with.'' With a grimace he placed a hand on his belly. ''I guess I'll know soon enough if my stomach tolerates raw rabbit meat.''

Seeing him rub his scraped soles with iodine brought her eyes to her own, minuscule feet that had suffered her long walk of shame back to the ruins. This was as good a time as any to apologize, but a small thought held her tongue. After all, he could have said something, asked her for help, made any mention of the torment he was going through. Why had he kept it to himself for three whole days, suffering the Wolf's harassment in stubborn silence? There was no shame to sharing it, at least not that she could see.

Signing, she set down the skewer and cleared her throat. ''I didn't know you had been so desperate to set the Wolf free.''

He stopped in his motions and glanced at her. His look was unreadable. For a long while he kept silent, his eyes darting across the room.

''I'm sorry I didn't tell you,'' he finally answered, wiping a persistent layer of sweat from his brow. ''I thought it would settle down with time. But it just got worse and worse. It was like the Wolf couldn't breathe; this morning it pushed so hard it felt as if it would break out of my bones at any moment. And the crystal wasn't working.''

She huffed out. ''So instead of asking me for help you just waited it out for three days and drove the fright of Din into me by impaling yourself on that crystal in front of my very eyes?''

''You weren't supposed to witness that. I… I wasn't thinking straight. I'm sorry.''

She fell silent, fumbling with her meat skewer. ''No, I'm the one who has to apologize. I should have noticed something.''

''I guess that makes us even then?'' he answered, smiling coyly.

''I guess it does.''

He nodded, resuming while Midna softly munched on the rabbit meat. For a while, the fire took over the quietness of the room, cracking from the humid branches it was being fed. When Midna next looked at her Hylian companion, a troubled expression had spread over his face.

''What is it?'' she asked.

''I saw the Red Lion,'' he said after a long pause. ''You know, the ship that sails across the forest and supplies the remote villages with goods. They repaired it, thank the goddesses. But…''

His face contorted into a grimace of pain. ''I saw the people on it, the workers and rowers, heard them speak among themselves. I've never seen anything like it, they looked so… forlorn. Unhappy, sick even. They were talking about the missing children; I had to follow the boat through the bushes to hear it all. Midna, they still haven't been found. Apparently Bando sent many strong men into Hyrule to look for them, and only few ever returned, all empty-handed. It's like the rest simply vanished.''

Midna saw his eyes become glassy with desperately held back tears. Slowly she scooted closer, unsure of what to do.

''I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Colin, Ilia, and the others hadn't managed to escape. They'd still be held in a Moblin camp, stuffed in cages with Din knows what done to them. This is what I set out to do as I left Ordon. I couldn't live with the fact that my little brother was held captive somewhere by these monsters. But just because my friends are safe doesn't give me an excuse to stop looking for the others.''

Midna's gaze was fixed on him, silent despair creeping into it that she prayed he wouldn't see. She could more than fathom his distress, for she knew all too well that sickening sense of obligation that seemed to dwarf all other troubles. If she did not take matters into her own hands, who would? Link felt himself responsible for the rescue of those children, as would anyone, hero or not.

But she also knew the bitter truth that, though he longed to save the innocent from a terrible fate, he had been chosen by the very goddesses to wield the one, ultimate blade. No other could take that burden, that responsibility, from him. For if he did not use it to stop Zant's evil from spreading, no one would.

And then it would not just be Bando's children who suffered. The world as they knew it would die, as would its people, young and old, safe at home or locked in cages.

She could not let that happen.

''Link…'' she began, but he held out a hand to stop her.

''I know there is nothing I can do about it now,'' he said, and although his voice was low with bitterness, he held on to his firm, determined gaze. ''I've come to that conclusion on my own. But I might be able to set some things in motion. If I can talk to Telma's Resistance Group and get them to help me, we might stand a greater chance of finding the children. She said those people had influence, resources. Maybe I could convince them to start looking.''

Midna felt a smile spread over her face. ''Now that sounds like a plan to me. I'm quite sure that not every hero who came before you had to take all matters into their own hands. You've already done so much, for your friends in Kakariko, the Zora prince, the Gorons. In Palaguard you saved an innocent girl from being raped, and even that ship you mentioned was repaired because you knocked some sense into the people responsible for it. You have more influence than you think.''

Blushing, Link gave a shrug. ''But wouldn't anyone have done those things? If Telma had asked around long enough, I'm sure she'd have found someone much more capable than me to escort her.''

''She did, believe me. The morning you were gone to get your horse, I followed her across town. She stopped at each tavern and every stable and practically stormed through the guardhouses asking for volunteers. No one even listened to her, and if they did, they asked for an exorbitant sum of rupees for their services.''

He gave her a look that betrayed his disbelief, but Midna knew what she had seen. ''There was no one, Link. No one but you.''

Baffled, Link's gaze wandered to the staircase and the covered sword resting there. He eyed it for a long time, and Midna became enchanted by the spectacle of light dancing in his sky-blue eyes as the softly glimmering lavender hilt was reflected within them.

''I just…'' he muttered, hanging his head. ''I can't walk around wearing that sword on my back. In Hyrule tales of the hero are so much more important than in Ordona, people stand too great a chance of recognizing it. They'll know who I am, what I am.''

''And they might start spreading your accomplishments and draw courage from them,'' Midna said. ''Your deeds would unify the people, make them believe that the goddesses are watching over them. You'd finally start being respected and acknowledged. If they knew a chosen hero walked among them, they would not hesitate to help people like Telma in the future. You'd become a symbol of selflessness and benevolence, something this kingdom desperately needs.''

''No, Midna, this is not who I am,'' Link replied frantically, his voice quivering with dread. His hands and feet had unconsciously begun to push him backwards, against the back wall of the room. To Midna, he suddenly very much looked like a cornered animal.

''I'm not a person the nation should follow and draw willpower from. I am not like Princess Zelda. All those good deeds you mentioned could only be achieved because I acted from the shadows, unseen and unhindered. You of all people should know best what that entails. If people knew what I was, they wouldn't respect me, they would fear me. I'd much rather serve Hyrule uncelebrated than bask in worship I most certainly don't deserve.''

Midna felt herself wither under his stone cold gaze as his words tumbled and echoed within her mind like a chant. He had surely not meant them as she found herself interpreting them, but they stung nonetheless. Goddesses, how they stung. She had to swallow hard to hold back her creeping emotions, hiding the moisture in her eyes with a quick turn of her head that preceded her body's wobbly rise to her feet. She approached the wrapped blade by the staircase, kneeling before its sparkling glory. With a subtle snap of her fingers, it gently dissolves into tiny specks of black.

''I can't carry anything else – my magic isn't strong enough – but I can hold on to this for you,'' she said, turning to face him. He was staring at her with widened eyes.

''If this is what you want, I'll keep it safe until we reach the Mirror of Twilight,'' she added softly, giving him a timid smile.

His long, intense gaze hung in the balance between guilt and thankfulness, but she could see how moved he was by her gesture. Wordlessly he held up the blanket for her to crawl under, and draped it over her as gently as if she were made of glass. His warmth soon engulfed her like an invisible embrace and drove the last chill of the night from her body.

He was asleep long before the fire gave out, his quiet breaths deep and regular*. But Midna witnessed the darkness overcome the old cellar room, her eyes wide and round. A certain feeling of finality presided over the night; no sounds of nocturnal creatures came from the forest beyond the ruins, the moonlight diluted by fog as if to ensure its glare did not hinder their rest. Deep within her consciousness, she could feel the Master Sword humming in time with Link's respirations, dormant like its wielder. Its continual murmur soon lulled her to sleep as well.

0

Clouds travelled across the sky as they set out the following day.

Midna felt strangely despondent watching Link exit the cellar with Epona's saddle** draped over his arm. Longingly she looked back at the room now swept bare and empty but for their few possessions piled up in the back corner, the chest that now held the Zora Armour, oil burner and cooking pot sitting securely locked among her pile of rakes. The quiet and cavernous seclusion of the little room had given her a warm feeling that spelled safety; almost like what Link called home. The idea of leaving it behind daunted her, made her anxious and heavyhearted. If this was what Link had felt leaving Ordon, she gained a whole new respect for his choice to depart on a journey of unknown length with nothing but a pestering imp to keep him company.

Epona stood restless by the cathedral entrance, scraping the dirt. Midna felt conflicted with the idea of riding her, no matter how well the horse obeyed Link. Ever since Midna had fallen under the large mare's scrutiny, she had felt Epona's distrustful eyes upon her, and sometimes it even seemed as if that thick-haired tail whipped a little too close to her whenever she moved by. As Link briefly excused himself and once more disappeared down the steps, a large shadow fell over Midna that caused her arms to chill.

Epona gave a snort, lowering her massive head to sniff through Midna's hair. The Twili instinctively ducked away, causing the animal to start.

''Okay, listen you,'' Midna said and whirled around, her fists pressed to her hipbones. ''I may have a body now that can survive in the light, but I can still pull the shadow trick and make you scamper off like before. I'm not afraid of you.''

Epona's ears pressed to her head at the shrill tone of Midna's voice, but she nonetheless continued her advance, hooves thumping on the beaten earth. Through her bare feet Midna could feel the weight of the beast stir the ground, and her heart involuntarily pounded harder. She quickly glanced at where Link had disappeared, and huffed when he returned with a glistening object in his hand. At once Epona stood still, her head perked high.

''Your horse is not what she seems,'' Midna said, turning to Epona with a scowl. ''I swear she was about to step on me.''

''Nonsense,'' Link answered absently as he stuffed the object into his rupee wallet dangling from his belt. ''She's just not acquainted with you yet.'' Ignoring Midna's startled protests, he grabbed her by the armpits and heaved her onto the large leather saddle before hopping on himself.

Midna's dress stretched uncomfortably over her spread legs until she was forced to pull it higher. ''What did you fetch?''

Leaning forward, Link reached for the reigns and adjusted his grip on them in front of her belly. ''Ralis' Sapphire. I… made a promise to return it to him. I'm not sure if I'll see him again, but I want to make sure he gets it back.''

The Zora prince's words replayed in Midna's head, drawing a giggle from her. ''Yeah, it's not like you're planning on marrying him, hee hee!''

Chuckling, Link gave her a playful nudge before sending Epona off at a quick trot, and Midna found herself too preoccupied with holding on to the saddle's pommel to make any more teasing jabs.

The lavish forest swooshed past them in a tumult of rushing air and flashing lights. Due to her sheer size, Epona's trot was long and fast, and Midna could not hold back a sudden yell of terror as she felt herself being pulled along. Link's arm at once shot around her to keep her steady, but her panic seemed to amuse him.

''This is a little different to riding a wolf, huh?'' he asked, pressing her hands firmly to the pommel.

''A little,'' she confirmed and tensed as Epona's pace turned to a canter. The wind caused her eyes to water.

''Be sure to warn me before you disappear in my shadow. I don't want to think I lost you somewhere on the trail.''

As terrified as she felt, Midna would not have taken refuge within the shadows if her life depended on it. Where before the wind had been nothing but a cool caress on her unblemished skin, it was now a whip taking her breath away that made her feel more alive than ever. The horse's powerful motions pulled her along, dropped and caught her through the air and caused her stomach to plummet each time. Epona's speed brought a suffocating twinge to her heart that was intoxicating, addicting, exhilarating. Midna did not want it to end.

Swathed in the looming shadows of the Faronian Giants, they sped south towards the river before turning east. Link pointed out how the towpaths on either side of the wide stream were muddy and overgrown, a clear sign that their use had only recently been taken up again. Soon they came across the first horse stable with the quick stream rushing by a little distance away. Two shire horses stood grazing by the padlocks and perked up as they passed. Their muscles stood out in sharp relief from years of towing the Red Lion across the rapids.

Midna requested a rest midway to Bando Port, and Link happily obliged, guiding a winded Epona to a clearing covered in succulent grass. A small creek burbled over moss-covered rocks, and Link refilled their emptied waterskins while Midna was enraptured by the crawling, wallowing bustle of a large anthill. Making up for three days of inner conflict, Link felt himself engaged in sharing his knowledge of the forest wildlife with her and took her on a forage hunt. By the time they returned and set off westward, Midna's tongue had turned black with blueberry juice.

In was sundown when they arrived at Bando Port. To their surprise, the modest trading hub had been walled with thick tree trunks and heavily fortified, a set of grated steel gates now keeping the dock fenced off. The red ship bobbed behind them like a caged lion pacing within its confines. Concealed in the shadows, Midna followed Link and Epona into the fort where they were directed to an encampment holding several travellers' tents. Link did not even bother asking for a room at the inn that was buzzing with activity like a beehive, and instead found a comfortable spot by an old oak tree near the palisade where he spread his blanket and started a small fire. He coaxed Epona to lie facing the wall and tied their second blanket to her saddle, spreading it over a crudely assembled frame of sticks. The created, miniature tent was just enough to keep Midna out of sight while he fed her some bread and cheese bought at the inn. It was her first meal of purely prepared food, and the result – combined with a whole day of bouncing on a saddle – was an immediate collapse into a deep, dreamless slumber.

The next day finally directed their gaze north towards the boundless fields of Hyrule. Epona made astonishing progress, her powerful body more than capable of spending a whole day alternating between trotting and walking to cover the fifty miles from Bando Port to Palaguard. At Faron's largest trading city, Link spent the very last of his rupees on a loaf of bread, a bundle of oats for Epona, and a special treat for Midna, and stayed a while longer making inquiries with the stall holders.

''News is Mayor Bo gathered all the villagers and took refuge in the caves of Ordonafawn,'' he told Midna as he walked alongside Epona up the Southern Road while his Twili companion, perched high above him, devoured her plum and cinnamon dumpling. The creamy filling melted blissfully in her mouth, causing an involuntary moan to escape her. It was like a cradle of warmth on her skin, but for her tongue. She made sure to catch and savour each stray crumb.

''I'm glad they decided to leave, Uli must have given birth by now. I wonder what gender the baby is.''

''Well, it's not too late to turn around,'' Midna said, sharing a self-conscious gaze with him. ''I'm sure you'd like to see your family again.''

Wiping his sweaty brow, Link shook his head. ''We've lost too much time already. They're safe, that's all that matters. I can rest easy now.''

Night settled over the thinning forest when they stopped at a familiar, decrepit farmhouse. The firepit Link had built on his first journey to Hyrule had been reused by travellers and passer-bys, and so the trio found plenty of firewood strewn around to make it roaring.

It was while he prepared their camp for the night that Midna finally noticed a change in Link's movements. He still walked with a heavy limp on his left leg, but more than once she caught him stumbling through bending motions or lean heavily against the abandoned farmhouse wall for a rest. The sweat on his brow had not dried even as the cool summer night brought some welcome relief from the day's heat. Anxiously she watched him prepare their bedding, and stood pat with his first aid kit open and ready when he asked for it.

''It's the hard riding,'' he told her as she voiced her concern, chuckling. ''One week of resting seems enough to make me soft.''

''Are you sure it's not the wound?''

''I've been cleaning it every day with iodine. It's mending. Slowly, but surely.''

But when Link awoke the next morning drenched in sweat, pale, and shivering, they realized time was running out. Midna vainly held back her rising panic as she uncovered his stab wound as well as the putrid stench of suppuration that arose from it, and hastily proceeded to return her berry breakfast to the land it had come from.

"We have to turn back," she wheezed from her crouch at the door while Link attempted to rise from his straw mattress, succeeding only with great effort. "Palaguard surely has doctors who can help you."

"Its just another day's ride to Castle Town. I can make it that far."

"Link, you're sick! You need help."

"If we turn back now, the missing children will go on without help for another week! My health can't be the reason for that."

"There is help for you only two hours south of here. I can't believe you're being this irresponsible!"

But Link won the argument by sheer physical dominance. With a grunt he propelled Midna onto Epona's saddle and held her in place while he struggled up behind her. Ignoring her protests, he drove his horse north into the vast range of meadows and forests. For the length of the journey they stayed quiet and brooding, until at last the horizon puckered with the thousand rooftops of Hyrule's capital.

And looming over it all, the angular barrier diluted the sun's fading light like a distorted lens.

0

Link knew he was being unfair, but admitting his most intense discomfort to Midna would only have needlessly worried her. He knew she was too clever to be entirely fooled by his ruse, and so he adopted to at least hide the full severity of his condition as best as he could.

In truth, he was not doing well.

With every tilt of Epona's body he could feel the stab wound's bloated middle squeeze and squish like an overripe peach. Cool moisture was continuously seeping into his sweat-stained bandage, too viscous to be blood. He kept his face impassive for Midna's sake as Epona carried him across the city's drawbridge and through the guarded gates; he knew she was watching him, safe from his shadow. To his relief, the men waving him in all wore full-body chainmail with the red royal insignia threaded onto their white surcoat. None looked twice at them as Link and Epona passed.

The city had undergone some decorative changes. Colourful garlands – grey and lifeless in the barrier's sickly yellow light – and unlit lanterns rose and fell in waves along the rows of houses, and many people still ambled about arranging flower jars and cleaning windows despite the late hour. a linen sheet had been painted in a multitude of colours and hung between the first pair of houses Link passed. The writing on it was too obscure to make out, but Link expected it to announce the reason for all the garnishing.

He dismounted by the staircase leading to Telma's bar and carefully led Epona down the steep steps to the tavern door. Giving her a quick squeeze, he tethered her reins on a nearby shutter bracket, promising to be back for her as soon as he could.

''Will you be all right?'' Link asked his shadow. It was not hard for him make his voice sound like a mere breath of wind; he was beyond the point of exhaustion. Only the thought of the bed he would be provided at Telma's was keeping him going.

''Don't worry about me, just take care of yourself,'' Midna whispered back. ''And be careful on the steps, I don't want you falling and breaking more of your body.''

Her worry amused him. ''I'll be fine. Stay hidden, and I'll tell you once the coast is clear.''

The tavern thankfully did not display the same noise as last time he had set foot in it. Upon opening the door, a whiff of alcohol and stale food hit him like a wall, making him nauseous. The inn was empty but for two slumped figures huddled together near the wine cellar and visibly in the process of decimating the content of Telma's barrels. The fireplace crackled with just a few small flames licking drowsily at a large log of mossy wood, and the rushlights on the walls burnt low, making him remember the comfortable, cavernous feel of the half-sunken cellar in the cathedral ruins.

Standing near the dais commonly occupied by musicians but vacant this evening, Link looked around until his eyes locked on the red-haired figure leaning casually on her elbows behind the long counter, a book between her arms into which she was deeply sunken. A white, fluffy cat with a purple bow around its neck lay purring next to her on the tabletop and groomed itself. As Link slowly approached, the animal lay a drowsy look upon him, halting mid-motion with its tongue still posed to lick its front paw, and concluding that the newcomer posed no threat, went back to work.

''Take a seat, why dontcha, I'll be there in a sec. Wine or ale?'' Telma mumbled from between her hands that were supporting her head and squishing her puffy cheeks to an unshaped pout. She did not look up from her book.

''A bed would be wonderful,'' he answered, smiling faintly.

As Telma glanced up, her face was flooded by an array of emotions, going from disinterest to confusion, stunned remembrance to sudden joy. ''Link!'' she exclaimed, extending her arms so fast that the cat jumped up and scurried away. In a second she had stepped around the counter and taken Link into a bear hug. ''Din be praised, what a fluke!''

Holding him at arm's length, she studied him, her look turning aghast. ''Dear Farore, look at you. There's hardly anything left on those bones. And so pale, dear me! What happened? I barely recognized you, as thin as you are.''

He barely had time to gather his thoughts when he was pulled by the collar through the kitchen door.

''Stay right here, I'll fetch you something to eat. Agus is in bed already, but he always keeps the fires banked for the morning porridge. And I think there's still some stew left.'' The barmaid hurried towards the hearth fire that still glimmered faintly and lifted the lid of the cooking pot.

However, with a sudden clank she banged it shut again, whirling around to face him.

''No, you need to come with me right now. I'll fetch you some of that later. Come, come! You won't believe your eyes when I show you who turned up here!''

Link felt himself once again swept off of his feet as Telma kicked the kitchen door closed before hurrying through the pantry and inserting her key into the back wall. All the while, a boundless stream of words flowed from her lips.

''I left Kakariko a few days after you since I could see that Ilia was in good hands with the handsome shaman. She wasn't doing much progress with recovering her memory, but your friends from Ordon and Prince Ralis' swift recovery did wonders in putting a smile back on her face. I knew then that I was no longer needed.''

She pushed the hidden door open, flooding the pantry with candlelight.

''Oh, but you have come at just the right time, Link,'' she chuckled. A mix of excitement and joy swung with her tone. ''Our members are finally gathering from all over Hyrule to answer our country's call. Bat and the girls have been busy refurbishing the back quarters and workshops, but I'm afraid it will still take some time before we are back to our former glory. There's just so much to do! Most work has gone into our meeting hall. It's right here. Oh, just you wait and see what Telma has in store for you!''

She knocked on the first door in the left-swinging corridor. A faint hum echoed through a moment later, and the barmaid opened the wing a crack. ''Sorry to bother you two, but there's someone here that I'm sure you'll be thrilled to see.''

She stepped back into the hallway as the doorframe was darkened by a tall figure. Link found himself looking up into a stern but friendly face, two dark blue eyes sparkling in the golden light of the wall-mounted candles. The man – by his subtly wrinkled face presumably in his mid-fifties – had short grey hair combed neatly to a peak on top of his head with slightly longer curls framing his straight, pointy ears. A tastefully groomed beard hung in two strands down the sides of his mouth and ended in a short goatee. Link could not tell from his green wool pants and simple white shirt if he was a noble or a commoner, but the way he held himself, straight and with presence, told him the man had authority.

''This is Sir Auru Nahamani, leader of the Resistance,'' Telma announced, a hitch in her voice. ''Auru, this is Link.''

''Ah, what a pleasant surprise,'' Auru said, and his look softened with a smile as he took a step to the side. ''In that case I won't stand in the way of a most fortunate reunion.''

Behind Auru, a second figure stepped into the light of the vestibule, slightly shorter than the group leader. Link's eyes went to it, lured by the movement, and stayed rooted on a face that let his every muscle freeze. The newcomer bore a similar look, bewilderment sharpened at once by disbelief and pure, unhindered joy.

''My son…'' Rusl of Ordon breathed, tears welling up in his eyes, before he closed the distance and took Link into a hug.

Link's tired mind was reeling. What was Rusl doing in Castle Town? He was the last person he had expected to meet in Telma's hidden back chambers. Gripping Rusl's arms he pushed himself away, running his eyes over the body of the man who had raised him as if to convince himself he was truly there. Rusl looked thinner than Link remembered, his face scraggly and unwashed, his clothes torn here and there with no effort put into mending them. But worse was his posture; he stood like a man who had been crawling with the weight of death upon his shoulders so long he had buckled under it.

And yet, the face smiling at him had not changed. It was still the same beard, the same green eyes, the same dark blond hair of his surrogate father. Feeling his throat tighten with emotion, Link quickly hid his watering eyes within Rusl's shoulder, squeezing him for dear life.

Rusl, too, seemed to notice Link's own rugged appearance and ushered him into the meeting hall. ''I cannot even fathom… Where have you been all this time?''

Pelting Link with questions, Rusl began pacing back and forth, his hands waving about aimlessly. Barely noticing Auru and Telma quietly retreating down the corridor, Link's gaze swept across the ten chairs that stood gathered around the imposing table that dominated the room. He caught a glimpse of two silver candelabras presiding over the tabletop and the few items that were scattered across it: a tin mug and a wine cup, a quill resting in a bottle of ink, parchment rolls and paper, a map of the kingdom, small figurines looking like lost pieces from a chess board.

At once he became aware that Rusl's tone had turned angry. ''Do you have any idea what you put us through, Link? Uli, Mayor Bo, the villagers, me? You left us. In the middle of the night, you were just gone. No note saying where you had gone to, or why, not even farewells. We looked for you everywhere. As soon as I was back on my feet I left Ordon in search of you, all the way to Palaguard where I was directed to a man named Talon Rancher. You know what he told me? You know what, Link?''

Shame overcame him, and Link could not hold Rusl's steady gaze any longer. Intently he fixed one of the candelabras, waiting for Rusl to state what he himself already knew.

''He told me the horse he lent you returned on its own. There was blood covering its saddle.''

From the Kargorok, Link thought. I must have injured the Kargorok as I fought it off.

"By the goddesses, I thought you were dead,'' Rusl whispered, leaning forward and taking Link into another bone-crushing hug that stole his breath away. ''I thought I had lost you too. Where were you all this time? Why didn't you come back? Why didn't you give us a sign, any sign, that you were… that you were even alive? I had lost Colin to those monsters, Link. My own son. But you were my first, and I thought I had lost you too. I did not know how to live with it.''

From the smith's tight embrace, Link only managed a croaky whisper. ''Colin is alive.''

Wiping away the tears he noticed only now had wetted his cheeks, he looked Rusl deeply in the eyes. ''He is in Kakariko, along with all of the other children from Ordon. He is alive, Rusl, alive and safe.''

He hoped the uncertainty in his voice was not too easy to discern; to him it seemed like many weeks had passed since he was last in the mountain village, and his clouded mind tried and failed to calculate with accuracy how many days it had been exactly. His near endless stay in Lakebed Temple had dulled all of his sensitivity to time, along with the sudden encounter with Zant and the confusing, feverish moments after. It could have been as little as two weeks to more than a month that separated him from his nightly flight from Kakariko, and after searching through his broken memory he was none the wiser.

To his surprise, Rusl was smiling. "Yes, I know. I travelled to Kakariko as soon as Telma told me of it. I saw him, and I saw what you achieved there. You turned that village into a fortress.''

He knew Rusl's words were meant to praise him, but they did rather the opposite. As if a vice was slowly tightening around his chest, Link felt his breath grow heavy. He kept his eyes locked with his father's as Rusl happily recounted his reunion with Colin, but the panic that rose within him made his ears go numb.

He knew. He had to. Rusl had seen Colin in his traumatized, injured, terrified state, had listened to his words, had shared in the horrible memories of that battle. He knew what Link had done to his own flesh and blood. Behind the smith's joyful expression, anger and disappointment surely seethed like a boiling pot, ready to toss its lid into Link's face. He could almost see it within those glistening green eyes filled with rage, rage he had pictured countless times. It finally came to claim him. Justice had caught up to him.

And yet, the Wolf inside him sensed the threat, and instinctively pounced to meet it. With a jolt Link doubled over.

''Link?'' Rusl, who had finally noticed the intensifying shivers of Link's body, took a step forward. ''By Farore, you're as pale as a corpse!''

It was just too much. Link felt his desperately held up façade crumble to a pile of dust and join the debris of his lost energy. He vacillated on unsteady legs, a move that Rusl instinctively countered with supporting hands. His burning touch was nearly unbearable, and it took all of Link's willpower to prevent a miserable whimper from escaping him.

He could admit to himself that his savagery had been justified. But not to Rusl.

''Link, are you okay?''

''Rusl, I'm sorry, so sorry. I didn't mean to do it… I hurt him, I hurt all those other children… I swear to you I would undo it if I could.''

Those monsters deserved it, the Wolf howled, writhing within Link's consciousness. They deserved to be gutted. They were taking him away! They were hurting them all! Had to kill them, gut them, destroy them!

''No…'' Link muttered, tears streaming from his closed eyes. The stab would flared with slow, lazy pain, familiar yet excruciating. He clapped a hand to it.

''I was meaning to talk to you about that, but… Link, are you bleeding?'' Rusl gently pried Link's hand from his stab wound and gasped as he touched the icy moisture on it. ''What is this?''

There was no point in lying about the severity of the wound. If he was to get better, Link knew he had to tell the truth. ''I got stabbed in the side about a week ago. I tried to treat it, but I think it got infected.''

The fright on Rusl's face lingered for only a second. One hand quickly pulled a chair closer while the other held on to Link's shoulder to steady him. When he was sure Link would not slide from his seat, he hurried out the door and called for Telma. He exchanged brief words with her, and she hurried off while Rusl returned to Link.

''We have an infirmary right down the corridor where you can lie down. How bad is it?''

Link grunted wearily as he forced himself back to his feet and slowly walked aside Rusl down the hallway. ''Uli would be furious,'' was all he answered, and Rusl's face turned white.

Grumbling, he led Link through the third door of the first corridor past a heavy linen curtain, and helped him onto one of the three beds that lined the back wall of the medium-sized room. It was comfortable and clean, and as Rusl lit the oil lamps hanging from the walls, Link's eyes fell on a small side room, its door stood ajar showing a wooden surgery stretcher. Sighing, Link leaned back against the pillows that Rusl propped up for him.

''Honey, you all right?'' came Telma's concerned voice from the curtain as she entered with a bowl and a rag in her hands. Sir Nahamani materialized beside her, his brass wine cup still dangling from his fingers. Rusl had by now lifted Link's tunic and chain mail, and they both gasped as they saw the pus-soaked bandage and bloody skin of Link's exposed stomach.

Auru at once snatched another bowl from a nearby shelf and set it onto the bedside table, promptly pouring his wine over it onto his hands. The whiff of alcohol caused Link's stomach to churn. The leader began prodding the bloated wound, releasing a sluggish stream of cream-coloured pus.

''Wake Peet and tell him to run for Doctor Lysh,'' he said, half-turned towards Telma. ''This is beyond our expertise.''

''Quite so,'' she answered and rushed off, leaving the bowl and rag on the table.

Link was faintly aware of Rusl helping him out of his clothes, his head by now swimming with drunken tranquillity, and went through the motions more by habit than by awareness. The pain had dulled now that he was lying, and despite Rusl's quiet voice telling him to stay awake, he had trouble complying to the request.

Sometime further along the evening he succumbed to his exhaustion, and woke to the sensation of a sudden, piercing pain in his stab wound. The acrid smell of pus mingled with the stench of more alcohol as the wound was washed clean. The room around him had changed, too, with only a cluttered table and shelf in his line of sight bearing a number of labelled bottles and surgery tools. The bed had been replaced by a hard pallet with the backrest propped up halfway, its lacquered wood cold beneath his bare back.

An elderly man wearing small oval spectacles that made his face look squished was seated by his side and performed the painful operation with deft motions. Link watched quietly for a while how the doctor scooped out blood clots and pus, and found himself too light-headed to be bothered by the soft sting of the metal spoon. As the man noticed him staring, he calmly set down his tools and reached for a metal cup sitting over a flickering oil flame. He held the steaming cup under Link's nose, and Link felt its pleasant, lukewarm vapour gently drift into his lungs. The surgeon spoke a few words, none of which Link could make out. Before he managed to voice a flustered apology, however, his eyes slipped shut once more.

The softness of the bed and the warmth of woollen sheets returned sometime after, the pain in his side only a mild distraction to his sound sleep. As Midna's quiet voice rang out beside him, asking him how he felt, the last of his worries dissolved into nothingness. He lifted his right arm in the now familiar inviting gesture, eyes still tightly shut, and felt her small body settle beside him soon after.

Together they rested in the security of the stone walls while outside, in Castle Town's streets, festivities raged on unseen and unheard.

0

''Hail the virtues of feasting and pleasuring!'' the town screamer roared at the top of his lungs. ''Do not maul your resolve with pious restraints assuring a salvation of body and mind, for it is the abundance of food, music, and company that will truly save your soul from those corrupted and soiled spirits of evil.''

At his feet, the crowd of onlookers cheered and clapped.

Laughter livened the streets of a celebrating Castle Town as the masses of its people sang and danced to the music of street performers. At every corner, the lanterns and coloured paper ribbons flapped from overhanging roofs and iron fittings, from the weathered beams of barns and town houses, or flowed in the wind from lofty poles. The syrupy scent of pastries hung in the air, their vendors screaming alluring offers for cinnamon rolls, pies, candied rose petals, buttered apples or honey treats. Ale flowed from its barrels like rivers. Its effect had long taken hold of the people, and everywhere their elated voices could be heard sharing jokes, stories, and merry songs.

Hues of bright yellow, red, green, and purple adorned the people's flowing gowns as they swirled along to music. Eyes alight with joy glistened behind their masks as they danced with unknown partners. With the anonymity came the ease of mind, shyness was vanquished, strangers spun and jumped with strangers without the slightest sense of shame. No one would know – among the many masks of people celebrating and basking in the joy of the carnival – who was there to enjoy themselves, and who hid behind the beak of a hawk or the grin of a cat an excited smile of enterprise.

Six strikes of the clock tower marked the time for the parade, where the most colourful and acrobatic troubadours would make their way through the largest streets accompanying musicians, sentinels, street performers, animal tamers, horseback riders, priests, monks, lords, and peasants.

The parade was the highlight of the day, and as such it was celebrated. Claps and clamours arose from the audience as the mayor made the overture, his flapping parchment roll held aloft like a banner announcing his upcoming speech. Behind him, acrobats danced and somersaulted through the throngs of people, creating a passage to make room for the jugglers. Burning torches and coloured balls twirled in the air and drew gasps and cheers from the tunnel of onlookers. A cacophony of honks preceded the arrival of a large flock of geese and drew laughter from all sides as they waddled before two herding dogs keeping them in line. The pavement quickly changed to a dungfield when the other animal tamers drove decorated ponies, dancing monkeys, and screeching birds along the street. The tail was made by a full-grown, smouldering and smoking Dodongo harnessed to a cart, carrying a woman in frills wearing a glorious brass mask formed to an exhilarated grin. Her waves and laughs accompanied the arrival of more horses clad in armour and adorned with feathers that their riders brandished like swords made for peace.

More jugglers arrived, too absorbed in their own show to take much notice of the slow procession of priests and monks on their way to the Temple. Two donkeys, each carrying one leg of a woman standing on their backs, trotted by and were showered with cheers. Musicians again. Now the people making up the tunnel joined the parade one by one to follow it through the streets towards its yet unknown destination. The whole of Castle Town was soon on the move through Butchers Row, through Market Street, North Fountain Road and Nohanson Lane, past the stables and the inns, filing into the plazas that would soon burst with the hundreds of celebrating people looking to forget – if only for one day – the ever watchful malice of the unknown evil that their shrouded and compromised castle symbolized.

For a few paraders, however, the journey ended prematurely in Reliance Alley. Three riders broke from their group with feathered swords raised in farewell and made their way to the yard at the end of the road. Two more of the onlookers – both Gorons hidden behind rusty fire masks – soon followed and waved goodbye to those masked dance partners they would likely never know the name of. Succeeding them was the Dodongo and its female rider, who guided her reptile mount to a stop before the smithy and was immediately taken into a bear hug by a plump woman in ragged tavern clothes wearing the papier mâché'd face of a fluffy white cat.

''I would kick your arrogant behind over the rooftops if I wasn't so terribly happy to see you!'' Telma hollered over the shoulder of the woman who, stretching upwards to wrap her arms around the barmaid's neck, only made it to the innkeeper's waist level.

''And score a thousand points, my beautiful friend, for I discovered I have good aerodynamics,'' the dwarfed lady laughed as answer.

One by one the newcomers filed into the yard furnished with tables and lovingly decorated. Greetings were exchanged, jokes shared and laughters joined. From within the tavern, music drifted through the opening door to resonate between the high walls of the stone houses as a masked barmaid exited with a tray of refreshments. Conversations took on the exhilarated tone of friends reunited and strangers exchanging pleasantries, and with the arrival of the night, a tall man in a hawk's mask stepped onto a low crate and called for attention. A short, quiet recital was pronounced wherein everyone lowered their heads and remained silent. Then a toast was offered with a raised wine cup. The newly formed Resistance Group pronounced their silent vows, their looks directed at the darkening sky and the glistening stars.

For the livelihood of their own, they would work. For the protection of the people, they would stand. For the end of suffering, they would fight.

For the support of those in need, they would live.

000

Author's note: I can't believe I actually managed to keep to my schedule. I guess I'm getting better at this.

This chapter got the last plot facts out of the way, and we are finally (finally...) in Castle Town where I've wanted to arrive at for many years now. I have lots of ideas for Link's next challenges, this time with the help of my highly customised Resistance Group. I can't wait to start working with them! Auru has always been one of my favourite characters of TP and is in my opinion another severely underrated one.

The Castle Town carnival was inspired by the Clock Town carnival from Majora's Mask, but it is mainly based off of a Medieval festival that I have been attending for many years in the country I grew up in, Switzerland. The festival lasts for three days and is traditionally kickstarted by a long parade with all the attending performers (ponies, monks, geese and herding dogs included) walking through the medieval town of St. Ursanne to congregate at the main plaza. I thought it might be interesting to write a little about it.

Asterisk time:

* Thanks to a reviewer, I have realized I completely forgot to resolve Link's lung sickness from the Lakebed Temple. It is mainly a detail, but since I went through the pains of establishing it in the first place, I have to see it through. I'll think about how and where to include it, and probably post a revised chapter 3-4 sometime soon. A big thanks to FadedDiamondDust for mentioning it.

** Another of my brain lapses, this time from the (dreaded) first novel: Epona's saddle. Obviously Link unsaddled her before hurling himself into the water, and Midna obviously stored it for him. That is why he has it here in the cathedral ruins. This is something to add in the rewrite of book 1 to properly fix it, so I didn't try to fix it in this chapter.

I hope you will still enjoy this chapter despite my neurons misfiring a couple times.

See ya soon!

DR