By the time Link got back to the village, his sword arm had forgotten the pain of the hydra's poison and insisted on being very upset with him for getting it stabbed by long pointy things. Unfortunately, neither the old man in Greece nor whomever had hidden the inventory for him had thought to pack bandages or any other medical equipment and his arm bleed freely for a time, soaking his sleeve first then just dripping off his fingers. This had only lasted a short time as, somehow, his arm went and stopped the blood flow in mere minutes, which had initially taken him by surprise. He'd known he somehow healed a bit faster than most people, but this was… no, his old memories showed far worse wounds and pain healing in what, at least from a human's perspective, was an unnaturally short period of time. He was hungry though, which was odd considering it hadn't been that long since he'd stopped for lunch, just shortly before being diverted and taking the path to the village. Link looked up, through the trees to the darkening sky. At some point he'd lost track of time, maybe due to the cursed forest's unnatural darkness. That's was gone, of course. It had vanished when he'd killed the curse's epicenter.

As he'd walked through the woods he'd noticed, with no small amount of relief, that the trees, previously sickly and coated in a purple grime, weren't all as unhealthy as those closer to the shrine area where he'd fought the boss hydra. The further he'd gotten from the shrine, the better they looked. As he had no idea how long this curse had been in place, he had carried a fear that the influence had lasted too long and endangered the greater health of the forest, and more importantly, the villager's crops. When had he finally returned, he was pleased to find the crops looking very near healthy. If they could be tended, they'd survive. At least he thought. He admitted that none of his memories, ancient or modern, had any knowledge of farming. But they looked ok…ish. So he just had to insure the people survived to tend them.

He'd put thought into how this disaster must've taken place, and he was relatively certain he could guess the order of events. His enemy had somehow discovered the sacred ground that was at least partially a relic of the Hylian world, and placed his curse there, using a hydra as its epicenter. Whatever religion was currently in practice here, however, made use of that shrine and these people had, completely unaware of what they were walking into, simply gone to visit for whatever rite or ritual they were accustomed to. Then they'd been assaulted by the young hydras, the ones with only one head. Not very many, Link guessed, for the men had been bitten but few others. If the boss hydra had been involved, those poisoned would already be dead. But the younger ones had only been a few days old, if that, and their venom would've been dangerous but far slower than even the one who'd bitten the girl Link found on his way here. Of course said hydras still lived and, though he'd cleansed the forest and his own body which had been bitten by the boss hydra being used as the curse's epicenter, the people who had been bitten would still be suffering the effects of the toxins.

He had a plan now, the relics he'd discovered at that temple would prove useful, but he had one fear left. Two days ago he'd killed a young hydra that had found him at his camp. If they had been spreading out too far… it was more than possible they weren't anywhere near close enough to track down and exterminate. This fear was increased in the knowledge that the only hydra he'd actually seen in these woods had been the monster he'd already slain. He saw a terrible irony in that. The larger, tougher enemy might actually prove the easier to find and kill as well as save less lives. Unfortunately, he didn't have any other options than to attempt the one plan he had, and pray that it saved anyone.

It was these thoughts that coursed through his mind as he stepped out of the forest proper into the clearing used by the villagers as a home. Said people, at least those well enough to stand, still busied about performing various tasks now recovered to them with the curse lifted. Tending the fields seemed to be at the forefront of that need. His arrival did not go unnoticed for long, however, and he felt a flash of deja-vu as, once again, the people raised an alert of sorts and he was swarmed by them all. This time, however, there was a distinct difference to their air. Before he'd brought them the hope they had in his arms, sick and dying. This time, he sensed in them a new mood. The curse on their home was gone. Could be maybe save their loved ones? Dare they hope? He'd been missing an element of recognition before, when he'd tried to sooth fears and floundered uselessly. But now he'd already done something for them, eased a piece of their burden, now he had established a precedent of being able to help.

He looked to see if any of those who had spoken English were there… and didn't see the young woman who'd first asked him… so he tried Greek.

"The great snake is dead, I cut off its many heads and lifted the curse on your home. But it was not the hydra that poisoned your families. It was the smaller ones, so I need to kill them too."

His words seemed to register among… some of the people in the crowd. How did these people communicate normally? Well, those that had understood somehow passed the information along. Finally one of them spoke up, though he couldn't actually tell who.

"The small ones come when there is fire. So we do not make fires anymore. But… if you can fight them…" she trailed off hesitantly.

Link smiled and nodded, "I can fight them, and I can and will kill them."

"Your arm" another spoke up, "It is hurt, can you fight them like that?"

He looked down at his arm, which admittedly looked a lot worse than it was, but he'd be lying if he told them it didn't hurt.

"It's not as bad as it looks, do not fear for my life. We need to hurry and do this, before the poison kills anyone." He decided to continue before any more objections could be raised, "We need to light a large fire, to be certain we draw in all the snakes. And you all need to stay indoors and keep you homes shut. I have to be the only target."

Word was passed around and more than a few people turned to a particular house, one that, thankfully, stood a fair bit apart from the rest and not near any fields either. One person explained that those who had lived there has unfortunately already succumbed to the hydra poison. That didn't bode well for how long the others had, but it gave Link a convenient place for his fire. He bowed his head, he'd hoped he'd been in time to save everyone, but he was already too late. When he inquired about the bodies, the villagers told him that they burned their dead anyway, so if he was already going to set it aflame… they asked he leave them there.

Link decided to check for certain that these people had indeed passed away first. He couldn't stand the idea of one or more of them being weak, maybe even at the edge of death, but then consumed by his flames. When he entered the one-room wooden home, the stench of death become overpowering. He forced himself to inspect the bodies, checking for any signs of continued life. There were three here, a man a woman and a child he presumed to be their son. All three were gone, it was obvious the moment he came close, now that the toxin had killed them it was eating them away, rapidly increasing decay. All three had bones showing, and the woman's rib cage had collapsed inwards. He had failed these three. He had not arrived in time to save them. He hadn't understood his dream or the appearance of the hydra. He should have realized and come here faster. His heart ached, he wasn't even sure he could save any or all of those that remained alive. Those that had bitten them could be long gone. But he had to try. Remember the lost, but fight for those who lived.

He put a hand to his inventory and summoned one of the three items he'd found in the forest shrine. It was a long cylinder of red glass, long enough to be used as a cane, and topped by a large red gem infused with magic. A fire rod. He raised it overhead, he felt his magic reserves pour a small amount into the rod filling it until the gem glowed with a red light, and he brought it down to point at the bodies of those he'd failed. The pillar of fire burst into existence instantly, engulfing them and catching floor on fire. It rose up high and licked the roof overhead, setting it ablaze as well. Then it was gone. He'd used it at its lowest setting, as it's three tiers were violently different in both magic required and effect of the flames. He'd merely needed to light the wood aflame so it would burn on its own. Besides, we wasn't sure when he might be able to replenish his magic reserves. It didn't refill naturally, once upon a time he knew how to brew potions to refill it but… he doubted the ingredients existed anymore.

He walked back out of the building before the smoke might've started to get to him, and he pulled an extra shirt from his inventory and bound it tight over his wound, he wanted the extra support, this fight could last a long time. Then he pulled his sword and shield free, feeling the heat as his fire spread and engulfed the house and the bodies of those he'd failed. The sky was completely dark now, and only a sliver of the Moon shone at the moment, but the flames rose high and filled the clearing with an angry red light. Fitting, because Link was angry himself. Angry at the monster of a man who cursed this place in a weak attempt to cover over something so small as a couple magic items, leaving its residents to suffer and die slowly. But he couldn't get at Ganondorf, his ancient rival, just yet; so his minions would have to do. And he could already see small red eyes gleaming in the firelight, the bodies attached crawling closer on their synthetic bodies. He raised his shield and held his sword out to his side in the defensive posture he knew best, and his ears caught movement coming around the bonfire still at his back. Hydras reared their heads and hissed. He yelled back at them.

They charged and he struck out at them with his sword and blocked others with his shield. He spun, and kept slamming them aside or cutting them apart as they came at him from nearly every side. He couldn't cut off heads very well while holding his ground, so he fell into a methodical pattern of cutting them through the head in the air as they leapt at him, then decapitating them on the ground as they tried to recover. Those he blocked with his shield came back soon, but it kept them away for just a moment longer giving him time to cut down a few at a time. They were attacking in hoards, he'd expected a trickle of the beasts, but this was far more satisfying. One got through his defenses, and sank its fangs into his thigh, but Link barely even felt the poison before he took its head off. How many was he killing? They disintegrated as he killed them so its was impossible to tell. The aggressive calm consumed him, and thoughts became as fluid as a film reel, blending with instinct and training burned into him across dozens of lifetimes. He killed and killed and killed. At one point he wondered who was yelling before he realized it was his own voice, it seemed a distant thing. A few more got through to bite him but he decapitated them all too quickly to even feel the venom. The dull ache in his arm faded, like it was someone else's pain. Then finally… he noticed a good dozen in the air at once, and he spun, instinctively pouring some of his magic reserve into the motion, he turned in full circles over and over. His blade glowed and a blue magical light left the metal and disintegrated hydra heads clean off, killing them in the air.

When he stopped, it was over. The final… twenty-ish finished falling to apart into nothing at his feet. His mind caught up with the events and… had he really just killed over a hundred adolescent hydras? He double checked to be sure more weren't coming from some hidden angle, then he turned back to the fire, which seemed to be farther along in its consumption of the building than he'd anticipated. He checked the Moon and couldn't see that any particularly large amount of time had gone by while he fought the monsters. Well, there didn't seem to be any danger of the flame spreading… the building had already begun to collapse but it was falling inward, keeping the flames in one neat pyre that rose to the sky. He heard a door open, followed by a few more. He turned and saw men limping out of their homes, usually leaning on wives or children for support, alive but low on energy. He smiled. He'd done it… he'd saved them… though… maybe… he needed to take a rest. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Marco Gallo expected an eruption soon. It didn't scare him really. You lived long on an island like Stromboli and you saw a few eruptions from the volcano. You lived your entire life and you might just start to get a sense for when one might happen. The fish became more scarce, sharks fled entirely, and even the crabs started acting agitated. Fish could be counted on to predict large storms and eruptions, it was stupid humans who couldn't feel it till it happened. Except Marco. Marco could be relied on, everybody knew that. He figured he should tell the other more stupid humans what he knew was coming. They wouldn't believe him, they were stupid after all, but he could forgive them that. He should still warn them, it was just the thing to do.

He reeled in his lines from the six poles he had in the water and set about paddling back to Ginostra. When he stepped into the diner he always came to when he had news and ordered a drink, he could swear he heard a few groans. Stupid people, never took him seriously. But was he ever wrong? Well… ok he might be off by a week or so occasionally… and once or twice he had overestimated the strength of the eruptions, but you couldn't blame a man for misinterpreting the fish. Fish were the actual intelligent ones, Marco was just smarter than other humans.

"Fish are agitated" he said, "there's an eruption coming. A big one too."

Nobody challenged him on his statement, which was very odd. He looked around and realized for the first time that there was something much odder going on in this diner. Someone very tall was sitting at the counter, though Marco couldn't tell very much about the man because he wore black cloak that hid his face. Marco… didn't like the feel of this man… there was something wrong about him. The man turned his head towards him and for just a moment Marco saw beneath his hood. It was only a moment because the moment he did he screamed and scrambled out of his seat and dashed out of the diner. An old memory awoke in him. He hadn't thought about that place in… over fifty years? Was he really that old now? He ran. Ran far way, out of the town and north along the coast. Not south. South would be bad. South had… other monsters. North would keep him safe. He finally stopped to take a break and sat down on a rock that jutted out of the ground there. He just… needed to catch his breath a bit. Not because his knees hurt after running. He might be old but he wasn't that old yet. He looked back and jumped to his feet; three tall black-hooded figures walked towards him at a strong, steady pace. He didn't have time to be old, he ran again he had to get to that hot spring… risked a glance back and saw one of the figures holding his hand outstretched and fingers in a position like they were grabbing something.

He ran harder, adrenaline pumping through his veins, making him feel younger than he had in years. His vision tunneled, purply-black spots started appearing around him, he'd never seen anything like… he understood right before they converged on him. It was the last intelligent thing he ever thought.

Link awoke to the sound of scrubbing and the feeling of being wet. He sat up instantly, and someone made a surprised noise which was followed very quickly by something making thudding noise. It took only a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light and spot the cause of each of these things. He lay on a small cot, wearing only undergarments. The mother of the girl he'd found in the woods was sitting only a foot away from him holding a wet rag. A small bucket lay on its side and water seeped out from it and onto the wood floor. His arm, the one that had been pierced by the boss hydra's fangs, was wet and most of the dried blood had been washed free. He bowed his head apologetically to the woman, who recovered her wits and righted the bucket and threw cloths over the water, trying to soak up what she could. He hurried to help her. She said something in a language he didn't know and made motions to suggest that he should leave the issue to her, but he ignored her and worked quickly to limit the damage the water could do to the wood floor.

When they'd cleaned it all up she nodded in thanks, saying something that probably meant the same in her tongue, then she gestured for him to lay back down on the cot. He looked at his wounds, snake-like bites covered his arms and legs, and felt the subtle ache in them; he'd managed to kill each hydra as it bit him, but the actual bites didn't vanish with their bodies like the venom did. He'd likely passed out from blood loss when he fell unconscious. No light came in from under the door, so it was night right now, could he have re-awoken in the same night as the fight? Or was this a day or more later? Since he couldn't ask this woman anything he supposed he didn't have a way to know and, he admitted to himself, it didn't really matter. As far as he was aware he wasn't on some limited time table, and he really didn't couldn't do anything about it even if it had been a week. He'd lost track of the calendar a while ago anyway.

He sighed and laid back down for her. He could have easily done this himself, it was even conceivable that he would do a better job, but he had gained these injuries fighting for her family and the whole village. People often felt cheated if you did something for them and didn't let them do anything in return. He'd give them this, though he knew to be careful, sometimes well-intentioned gratitude led to… awkward situations.

He left the village a four days later in the dead of night. He had gained a lot from his stay: he'd healed completely, he'd learned several excellent recipes, he's clothes had been mended, and his grasp on several languages was just a bit stronger. He'd also been dodging the villager's attempts to get him to marry one or more of their daughters the entire time. One particularly sneaky attempt had come worryingly close to success. It had involved "teaching him a prayer for happiness". Link might have memories from dozens of lifetimes, but his current life had instilled certain… American values on relationships and marriage. It was hard to simply cast them aside. Besides, in all likelihood his being a different species would prevent him building a family, and his mission certainly meant he would be on the road for the foreseeable future.

And now he was finally back on that road. His innate sense of the direction he should be traveling in had never gone anywhere, and while it hadn't changed or anything, he felt an urgency to get there, wherever 'there' was. One family had been able to show him where this village was on a map, and he had done his best to guesstimate where he was heading towards. He thought his heading was Egypt, but he couldn't be very certain about it. Perhaps one of the Pyramids? That could be tough to get into, but what he'd come to understand about how the remnants of his world were scattered across the modern one seemed to indicate this would be a likely location. Humans, he suspected, had somehow sensed the sacred nature of the places old Hylian temples still barely existed, and built their own religious structures in the same areas. Well, regardless of the exact destination, he suspected he'd be on the road for several more weeks before he even made it into Africa and he had quite the journey ahead of him.