Chapter 1: What Do You Do With Dark Tomes?

She trotted in the pouring rain through the forest. The rider atop her hung his head low, hidden in a cloak. The horse knew where they needed to be. He kept his left hand on the reins and huddled over to protect a bag from the rain. It carried the latest result of his effort, a dark and ancient tome. He had not yet read it, for he had fallen into the habit of searching for them and then reading them after he was too tired to quest for more. He had been doing this for the past year, without concern for himself or others. Only stopping to acquire information or details regarding any artifact, good or evil, that might help him. He only wanted to get back to her, but so far she had eluded his grasp. For two years he had traveled to the far reaches of the kingdom. The moment she left, the moment she shattered the mirror that tied the two realms together, a hole sprung deep in his heart. He didn't know why he felt this way; maybe it was love, or she was just way more important to him than he ever realized, but he didn't feel like he had the time to process this. He had to get her back first. He was grungy and damp, mud and dirt had caked his clothes during his travels and he never really bothered to take care of himself anymore; he didn't see the point when there was more work to do, more to learn, more to acquire. His equipment was ragged, rusted, torn, and abused, hanging on just barely. The only thing kept in shape this past year was his horse. Taking care of her was the only thing he got any satisfaction from. He had been disappointed every time so far in his quest, but the horse shouldn't suffer from his failures or his sadness.

He rode for the rest of the trip lost in his thoughts, his hopes, and a suspicion; a prediction that this quest would be for naught once again. He should've crossed the bridge by now, but it didn't matter. He didn't even bother to look up as he passed by the children who called out his name. He just wanted to get home and rest, maybe take a bath in the river once the rain let up. He had forgotten when was the last time he had taken a bath. The horse came to a stop, they were home now. He slowly got off his horse, still cradling his pack, and looked up. A perplexed man stood in front of the house. Link walks up to the man, raising his head for what felt like the first time since he started the trip back home. He looks at him with suspicion and asks, "Rusl, what are you doing out here in this weather?" The man turned his head to Link and pointed up, "I could say the same to you. I had just come back from business in Castle Town and heard laughter. I had been calling out for you but it turns out you didn't start the fire." Link looked at him, someone was crazy enough to break into his house? No one in the village would have the audacity and no child would think to start a fire. Link stopped for a brief moment and pondered, asking Rusl another question, "Who the heck would do that? It must be some drifter. I'll go up and handle it." Rusl stops Link by grabbing his shoulder as Link's hand grasps the ladder and speaks, "It's not a drifter, Link. I went up and peeked through the window and saw a monster." Link looked at him with razor-sharp focused eyes and exclaimed, "A monster is burning my books?". At that moment, he abandoned all other thoughts or concerns; his hard work was being destroyed.

He thought to himself as he briskly climbed the ladder to his house. So far, he hadn't found a spell or artifact that would bear fruit towards his quest, but every spell, every artifact could be useful in the future. If a tome taught magic, then he could repurpose those lessons to craft a new spell. If a hex, curse, or spell listed ingredients, then he could repurpose them for a new hex. It was imperative that he preserved everything he collected, and now whatever was up there was burning it all. He had to be careful though; without the master sword, fighting monsters was a lot harder. He finished his climb and pulled out his sword, and with his right hand opened the door with the utmost care.

What he saw stunned him. This wasn't a poe or any sort of malicious spirit. There by the fire, oblivious to its surroundings, with a pile of books and scrolls next to the stool it sat on, was a stalfos feeding the fire. The monster wore a distinctive helmet, two horns came out of the sides with a third horn sitting atop the ancient helm. He wore golden, aged armor, with green plants adorning and sprouting from and covering various parts of it. It was as if he had died and decayed in some field that once held an ancient battle. Link stood stunned; he knew this monster. The armor, the helmet, and even the sword and shield that lay atop his table were all recognizable to him. So he stood there, his mouth agape, thinking, 'How did he come back?' The skeleton stood and finally voiced something out, his voice haunting and shriveling, "Hmm, a spell to bring the moon crashing into the planet." He says nothing more and tosses a scroll into the fire, giggling to himself like a child as he watches it catch ablaze.

"What are you doing?" Link finally let out a gasp. Skelington looked startled before he finally met eyes with the filthy 'hero'. The monster's spectral eyes grew in size and warmth as he processed the man that stood across the room. He spoke with excitement, (well, as much as a specter could), "Oh you're back!? Come over by the fire I started!" Link shook his head and came to grips with what lay before him. He had many questions. Why was he here? The skeleton said he had fulfilled his purpose, so why was he back from wherever he went? Why did he break into his house? Why would he just go and burn all of his darn books? There were too many questions, but as Link sat down, he knew which should be his first one and so, he asked, "What the hell are you doing?"

The skeleton looked him dead in the eye, and with great difficulty said, "I…" Link felt like the ghost was about to admonish him or teach him a lesson. The shade looked away briefly at the fire before locking eyes with Link and spoke with even more tension in his haunting voice, "I…" The skeleton looked up for what felt like a great deal of time. Link continued to look at the decayed body before him. Was this the work of the goddesses? Did they send his old mentor to punish him? Was there a new threat to the land? Whatever was causing the shade pause must mean nothing good was about to follow. The grave and somber shade looked back down and locked eyes with Link and, finally, responded joyfully, "I just wanted to see how you were doing!"

Link looked at him, his eyes widened as he bent his back and tilted his head sideways, "You're kidding," was all he had to say. The specter looked at him perplexed and responded, "Kidding? Why would I kid about wanting to see my superheroic son, er grandson…" He stopped, put his hand to his 'chin', and thought for a second as to what he was to the young man, "Hmm, great something grandson." The skeleton waved his hand to dismiss the thought, the details on that didn't matter, so he chose to pursue a tangent as he looked back at his lovely pile of evil tomes to burn, "You know, I'm impressed with all this hard work you've been putting in, really making this sack of old bones proud over here. I mean, I would've burnt down the libraries, or temple, or wherever you found these super evil books but," He stopped and looked into the fire again before looking back at Link as if he were smiling at him, "You just started."

Link felt his jaw hang again. What the heck? This felt like a completely different man than whom he dealt with in the past. Not only was this man jovial, he had no sense of courtesy; hell, he had no sense. It was infuriating, even more so than just moments ago.

It was a brief and awkward moment before either of them spoke. The shade looked into the fire. Something about this felt off. Of course, the young lad wasn't expecting him, and well, he did break into his house. Yeah, maybe that wasn't the best idea, but that's what heroes do; they let themselves in. He looks back at Link, and speaks up to break the ice, "You… wanna hear a joke?" Link looks at him, his head tilted even more, what the heck was with this guy? The shade picks up a book from the pile lying beside him, "What do you do with an evil tome, but not a book?" Link sat in silence, he was on the razor's edge of losing it. The shade continues ignoring the deadly tension hanging in the air, "You burn it!" He throws the book into the blaze as he begins to cackle almost maniacally. He had been saving that one for the young man since he let himself in and started his little 'crusade'.

It was mere moments before Link's sword clashed into the chair. The shade had dodged Link's attack towards the table. His experience in combat had outlasted death. The shade jumps onto the table, picks up his sword with his right hand, and goes in an épée stance. The shade exclaims, "A sudden duel! Hero, you're really coming into your own!". Link rushes and attacks him with a side slash, but the shade deflects with his blade maintaining his high ground. The shade counterattacks, he speaks as the iron in their hands clashes, "You fight well, but Bonetti's Defense was made for tables!" Link slashes with the Capo Ferro technique at the shade's legs. The shade jumps high to avoid the low strike. Link kicks the table out from under the dead man as he is afloat and follows with an upward diagonal strike but the shade still deflects. The shade swipes at Link and jumps back towards the door. "Ah! My Bonetti is rusty!" The shade exclaims as they walk towards each other to fight again.

Grunts, joyous laughter, and iron create a symphony of battle as the swords come to clash again. The old hero contrasted Link's growing rage-filled strikes with his joyous technique. Link grew desperate, he would end this with that old bastard's own techniques. Link backs off and jumps at the old man with a downward slash. The slash cuts into the flooring and the old man playfully strikes. This was the moment. As the shade does his playful attack Link jumps to the side and rolls behind him in an instant. The shade delights, he remembers his techniques! He turns to block. He sees Link jump into the air. The shade delights even more; that was a feint, his boy is going to do the Helm Splitter! Link spins in the air and conks the awe-struck shade's helmet hard. The blow disorients and knocks the shade to the ground. He rolls onto his back, regaining his senses. He sees in one moment, the first technique he ever taught the young man: The Ending Blow. He rolls to his side into the pile of Tomes, against the fire.

The shade stands up. He sees Link, eyeing him down. The sight was murderous, it chilled the shade more than death ever had. The shade knew what that move was for, the ending blow was always fatal. The anger that flooded out from the boy; that wasn't the anger of a duelist trying to win. The boy was trying to kill him. The shade straightens himself up and switches his sword to his left hand. They approach slowly, staring each other down the entire time.

The swords clash. The shade's attacks have no joy in them. Link continued his aggression but it no longer controlled as it did moments ago. With each deflected strike he backed up more and more until he was backed into the table.

For one moment, there was naught but the sounds of footsteps as they circled each other. Both could feel it; this was the last act.

Link screamed out and rushed the ancient. He swung wildly at the old man. The shade dodged and deflected. He could feel it; Link was out of tricks and out of patience. In one last strike, the shade used the broadside of his sword to hit Link's hand with great strength. The sword flew out of his hand and the shade pushed his ultimate advantage.

The shade pressed his sword against Link's neck. Backing him into the wall. The fight and the anger had completely exhausted him but he did not fall from it. The shade kept his sword against the young man's neck. They stood still in silence.

"I'm not going to kill you." The shade says to Link as he drops the blade from his neck. Link drops down, gasping for air. The shade looks down at him and then back at the books. He organizes his thoughts and asks his mad child, "Why did you try to kill me?" The boy gasps for air and responds with hellfire, "You are burning…" He breathes in and exhales, "My stuff!"

Surprise and turmoil strike the shade, forcing a response to the boy's exclamation, "Your stuff?" He thinks quickly, 'The boy wasn't intending to destroy these damned abominations? What did he intend to do? How long has he been at this? What the heck is he thinking, hell, intending? These artifacts contained dark magic of the highest caliber.' The shade yells at him, "How long have you been doing this? What the hell do you intend to do!" The shade yells at him. Link does not respond.

The shade stops and looks up, he could feel his anger rising as much as his disappointment. He knew he wouldn't learn what the boy's intentions were. Instead, the shade responds to Link's silence, "You have collected powerful, powerful artifacts-" He stops briefly and looks back down at Link continuing, "You can't just put these artifacts in one place. As power, courage, and wisdom attract themselves, darkness attracts darkness." The shade attempts to lock eyes with the boy, but he does not reciprocate. The shade continues, "If this continues, these tomes will attract-"

A loud bell tolls in a dark foreboding rhythm. It rings louder than the rain, louder than the thunder. Link's eyes widened; he knew what this meant. The shade stops; he is unfamiliar with the customs of the village but given the circumstances, he asks forebodingly, "It's already here isn't it?" Link rushes out the door and the shade follows but stops as Link jumps off.

He thinks to himself, he should've just told the boy. It's just a small little favor, nothing big, maybe it might take a little longer than a while. He shakes his head, they had bigger problems, bigger than his little reason for being here. "You've really messed up kid." He says no more and jumps off.