"You know I can't do everything for you, right?" the imp mocked as Valdr struggled with the door to the lockup. Through the barred porthole he could see spears, helms, weapons to be used by the guards, but the door was locked tight, and it was far too sturdy for him to knock down with brute force.

"Why do you want to get in there anyways?" his new companion demanded, "You're not turning out to be a very good servant, Oaf."

Valdr glanced behind him at where the still forms of the small, skittering creatures lay. They had struck from the shadows as he had ventured down the corridor, flinging themselves at him with squeals of malice and attempting to fasten their many little limbs over his face. His new friend had refused to help, and Valdr had been left with the unpleasant task of catching each one with his hands before smashing them to death with his brick. Their flesh had writhed and oozed between his fingers, and even now Valdr shuddered just thinking at the slimy feel of them. He wasn't a squeamish fellow by nature, but these things felt wrong, felt not of this world. It was daunting feeling their far-too-supple flesh against his.

"I need a weapon," he replied evenly.

"Oh you poor little light dwellers," sighed the imp in mock sympathy, "you know my people grew up on legends of your race, legends that spoke of a magic that could match our own. You Hylians have been nothing if not disappointing since I came to this world, you scrabble around in the dirt with stones and steel like apes, it's disgraceful. I can't imagine what your ancestors would think."

"I am not a Hylian," Valdr pointed out, inspecting closely the hinges of the door.

"Hylian, light-dweller, all the same to me," the imp gestured , "the point is that I expected to see at least a little magical talent, and yet here you are, stumped by a door."

"The lock is too sturdy for me to break," Valdr told her, "but we might be able to…" he trailed off as he wedged the brick beneath the hinge pins near the top of the door frame and balled up his other fist. He didn't really have the right tools for the job here, but with a little leverage he thought he might be able to pop the hinge pin out from its place.

A thump as his fist drove the brick into the pin, then the tinkling of iron on stone as the dislodged pin fell to the floor. One down, one to go.

"Finally," the imp's voice dripped with disdain, "the longer we delay here the less chances we have of making it out of this place."

"You are more than welcome to leave without me, if I am so very useless," Valdr told her while he lined up the brick to the second pin near the door's base.

"Do you have sand in your ears? I told you why I'm taking you along with me. My enemies are stronger under the veil of Twilight, too strong for me to take on alone, but if we lift that veil, they'll be weakened. I will too, but that's why I'll use you. Your kind can withstand the light better than mine."

"So you said," Valdr agreed, "but if you expect me to fight your battles for you with only a brick in hand, I'm afraid you may expect too much of me."

"I expect nothing at all from you, somehow you're still a disappointment," she spat.

Valdr struck the door hinge and the second pin popped out, now only the hinges themselves held the door from falling out of the frame, and that was easily removed. Rising to his feet, Falder gripped the knob and heaved upwards. There was a grinding pop of metal on metal, and he had to grab the other edge of the door as it fell to avoid it crushing his toes. With some effort, he was able to manhandle it to the left and lean it up against the wall beside the portal, careful not to drop it and make too much noise. Insofar as Valdr could tell, those small skittering things were attracted to loud sounds, and he would prefer to not have to spend the next few minutes pinning down several of them.

"Well, that was a rare display of competence," his companion remarked, "Now get a sword or something, I know you brutes like swinging those around, for all the good it'll do."

Valdr stepped into the armory, searching for something in particular. "I cannot," he told her. "A sword requires some familiarity to wield effectively, and I am no swordsman."

"All the light dwellers this world could have offered and I get the only one who isn't even a warrior," she buried her face in her hands, "just my luck I suppose."

"I did not say that," Valdr felt some relief as he spotted something balled up and left in the corner of the room, poking out from behind a set of barrels. The guards must not have known what to do with his belongings, and so left them here to gather dust. Now was the perfect opportunity to reclaim them.

His jacket was a little stiff from months of being left without washing, and Valdr decided he didn't want to think about what it smelled like, but he could worry about washing later. He checked the pocket on the inside, and felt what he was looking for. With some relief he drew out the hatchet, short and stumpy, but useful both as tool and weapon. It had served him well in his wanderings before, and to be parted from it had left him feeling naked somehow.

"An axe?" the imp floated around from her place on his shoulder and leaned in to take a look. "A bit short, isn't it?"

"The longer the haft the harder it would be to carry with me over long journeys. As it stands, the reach and haft give me more striking power and leverage than a dagger could, while still remaining easy to carry and conceal. I have experience with it."

"Well you got what you wanted, now can we get out of here?" she drew back from him, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "That coat reeks, get rid of it."

"I have use for it," Valdr replied stubbornly. "The smell will abate."

"I'm not going to bother arguing about this, Oaf. I'm your mistress, remember? If I say to get rid of something, you get rid of it." She snapped her fingers, and Valdr started as the jacket began to smoke. He scrambled out of it and tossed it to the flags as it burst into flames. Luckily the axe was spared from the inferno, but Valdr still gave the imp an accusatory glance.

"That was mine," he said, annoyed.

"It stunk," she replied, and floated off out of the room. Peeved, he followed, tucking the axe's short handle into the waist of his trousers.

They walked in silence for a minute before the imp gave out a little sigh.

"I'm sorry I burned your stinky coat, alright? But it was rank and disgusting. I'll get you another one sometime."

Valdr was still annoyed, but wisely chose to say nothing. For the time being they needed each other, bad blood and bickering between them would only make things more difficult. He held his tongue for now.

They continued on in silence for a bit, creeping through the corridors of the prison and listening to the sounds of the other prisoners weeping or whispering feverish pleas to an unseen god. Valdr peered into each cell they passed by but could make out no form or body, only seeing a faint little light that failed to illuminate the cell much at all. More like the glowing of a firefly than anything else.

"What are those?" he wondered aloud, and the imp bared her sharp little teeth in a knowing grin.

"What do you mean? They're spirits," she answered, "that's what happens to you light dwellers under the veil of Twilight. You only see them as they are because of the amulet I gave you."

Valdr touched the collar lightly with his fingertips, shuddering a little. So he had been like this as well? A pale little light in the darkness like all these others?

"What is the matter with them?" he asked, choosing not to linger for long before any one cell and following his companion closely.

"They're pathetic, no cure for that," the imp remarked flippantly.

"No, that is not what I mean. These men are criminals, smugglers and killers all. Why do they weep like children? And what is this unnatural darkness? Where did these creatures come from?"

"Oh, that," the imp shrugged her little shoulders. "They're weak-minded is all. Under the veil of Twilight, their minds and hearts are subject to the will of whoever rules that Twilight. Ordinarily it would be me, but…"

"Twilight. You use that word often. That is this pall that has fallen over the castle? Is it also what killed the soldiers?"

"Killed them, changed them, the weak bend to the whims of whomever sits the throne, and the strong die. I guess those hardened killers weren't so tough after all, hmm?"

"Why am I not affected?"

"Like I said, your will is strong enough not to buckle. To exist under the veil of Twilight is a contest of resolve between a ruler and their subjects. When I ruled…"

"You?"

She sighed again, "Yes Oaf, very good. I didn't always look like this you know, I was cursed you thick-skulled dog. If you had met me before, as I was when I ruled the Twilight? Well, you would have thrown yourself at my feet and begged to serve me."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"I don't much care how you find it. Once you've helped me break my curse and regain myself, we'll just see, now won't we?"

"Our goal is to break a curse? Perhaps you should seek out a shaman."

"Our goal is to kill the one who cast it on me, but to do that we'll need to collect some things. No doubt Zant will have them guarded, which is why I'm bringing you along. If nothing else you can distract my enemies by dying very loudly and messily."

"Zant?"

She spat again, disgusted, "The usurper king of Twilight, a witless, gutless worm too pathetic to rule by his own merit. He stole power from the gods, though I don't know how he did it, and he cast this curse over me. I can't imagine you'll survive long enough to meet him face to face, but I intend to kill him slow once I have what I need."

"That being?"

"No more questions," the imp snapped, "You're just a servant, Oaf, I don't need to explain my plans or the reasons behind them to you."

Valdr once again lapsed into silence, digesting what he had learned. This "veil of Twilight", whatever that meant, was clearly what this darkness meant, and while he wasn't sure if the imp was telling the truth about having once ruled over it, she certainly seemed to believe she was.

As it stood, he needed her, needed the collar she had given him to see properly and to retain his form under these cloying shadows. At the very least, if they ran into trouble, he still had his hatchet.

They spoke very little as they navigated the labyrinthine passageways of the dungeons, and Valdr soon found his sense of direction completely skewed. At this point even trying to navigate back to his own cell seemed an impossible task, and he sincerely hoped that his companion knew where she was going.

"There's an old waterway connected to these dungeons," she piped up, seeming to read his thoughts, "We can use that to make it outside the castle. I think there's something you should see before we start the journey to my objective."

Valdr wondered as well how she seemed so familiar with this place, but he didn't expect to get an answer even if he asked. For now an inquisitive mind would do him no good, only provide more questions that could not be answered. Instead, he decided to think about his options and what to do once they did make it out of the castle.

His new friend assumed that he would continue to follow her lead once they escaped, but Valdr wasn't so certain if he planned to. Thus far she had been nothing but coarse, unhelpful and cruel. Whatever her objective, it didn't seem like she expected him to last very long on the journey, and Valdr liked his chances better alone than with her at his side.

He didn't think he could get the drop on her if he tried to make a quick kill with the axe, but maybe he could give her the slip in that waterway she had mentioned. With a little luck he could still make it to the surface and from there attempt to flee for the borders of the kingdom. There was no telling how far this curtain of shadows stretched, but Valdr guessed that even this Zant did not have the power to cover the whole world in darkness. Hyrule was the Land Beloved of the Gods, if that was what this dark invader wanted, let him have it. Valdr liked his chances better in braving the deserts the stretched out from beyond Hyrule's borders.

"Keep up, Oaf," the imp's voice jostled him from his thoughts and Valdr realized he had been gripping the haft of the hatchet without thinking about it, a bad habit from years past. He let it go and scratched as his unkempt, bearded jaw pensively while he picked up his pace. Whatever his plans, they would have to wait until they escaped from this place, and not a moment sooner.

He followed the imp as she floated along, keeping his thoughts and questions to himself, and before long the nature of the corridor around them began to change. They were heading deeper into the dungeons, so deep that the stonework was decaying and crumbling. The air was thick with moisture and Valdr could see moss and creeping plants poking their way through the cracks and gaps, and bare earth seeping through the tunnel walls.

"We draw near to the waterway," he commented, and the imp looked over her shoulder at him.

"Figured that out all by yourself, did you?" she mocked.

Valdr frowned and said nothing, listening closely to the dripping of water down the walls all around them.

"Honestly," the imp continued, "You really must be one of the stupidest…"

"Be silent!" Valdr hissed, and to his surprise she actually did for a moment.

"… I must be mistaken, Oaf, but did I just hear you give me an order?" once again the usual mischievous cheer in her voice was gone, replaced with steely disdain, but Valdr raised a hand to try and quiet her. He had heard something else amid the drippings, something that sounded like quiet, rapidly approaching footfalls.

He listened close, not trusting his eyes, hearing the sound get closer. The imp, to her merit, remained quiet as she regarded him with indignance. She must have recognized that he had sensed danger, and in spite of herself did not interfere.

Valdr opened his eyes as the steps grew nearer, and now he could tell which direction they came from.

"Behind us," he said evenly, and turned to face whomever or whatever approached. The footfalls were heavy and uneven, not a man, but too cautious to be an animal. Whatever it was, it was trying to sneak up on them. The imp did not speak, but Valdr felt a crackle in the air that warned him of magic. Despite her size, he had some inkling of the powers she possessed, but it wasn't Valdr's nature to rely on anyone else in battle.

"Try not to kill me," he muttered at her, slipping the hatchet out of the waist of his trousers and settling it comfortably in his hand. A shield might have been convenient as well, but he hadn't thought to fetch one from the armory before, and it was far too late to try and go back now.

The footfalls stopped, lingering just out of sight in the creeping shadows. Valdr narrowed his eyes, whatever was out there must have seen that it had been noticed and was waiting to see what its prey would do next. He couldn't see it, but killing intent was easy to sense once one had felt it enough, and whatever this thing was, it wasn't pausing out of some desire to make peace. It was planning its attack.

Without warning or sound, a shape burst forth from the darkness, lumbering forward with a speed that belied its stature and flinging a hand tipped with razor claws out to rake Valdr to pieces. He evaded, ducking inside the thing's reach and turning into the blow, letting the thing land between himself and the imp.

"A shadow beast," she said, sounding relieved. "I thought it might have been one of Zant's sorcerers. Well now is as good a time as any to see what you're made of."

Valdr understood her meaning; he would not be getting any help in dealing with this thing, and as he watched it turned its head from the imp to him. It's face caused a thrill of dread to run up his spine, a flat, platelike visage gaped at him, no sign of mouth, ears or nose, only a stone mask that resembled nothing more than a single, unblinking eye. Lank hair hung in dreadlocks from its arched neck and brutish shoulders, and it walked like an ape with hands planted on the ground to support the weight of its massive body. From it hung the tatters of clothing, as if it had tried to put on an outfot that was too small for itself; the burst rings of a mail hauberk fell around its waist, and a shredded tabard stretched over its hulking frame. Its feet spilled out from boots that were too small to contain it, and Valdr understood what he was looking at without much guesswork.

This was a Hylian soldier, or at least it once had been. Some semblance of intelligence must have remained within for it to plan its attack the way it had, or to even consider sneaking up on them, but what had once been a man had been transformed. It was as the imp had said; the soldiers of Hyrule were killed, fled… or changed.

A discordant sound erupted from the beast as it regarded Valdr, and it shifted to focus its malice directly on him. He felt his legs turn to jelly as its claws clicked on the stones, and his fingers gripped the axe white-knuckled.

With a deep breath he mastered his fear, willed himself to choose fight over flight, and he sprang before the beast could strike again. His body launched forward like a coiled spring set loose, dashing forward to strike quick and hard. The creature bore no weapon, and what armor it still wore was less than useless in its current state. The axe would bite deep, he had only to drive it home. The beast reacted with surprising speed, swiping again with one claw, and Valdr let his body drop to the ground, momentum sending him sliding beneath the thing along the water-slick flags. The evasion had been a close thing, and he had felt the thing's claws just brush his hair as he dodged. A moment later and it would have caught him by the face. The axe came up, raking along the monster's belly, and there was a sort of muted howl from behind the thing's plate-like face.

Valdr clambered to his feet behind it as it stumbled, one hand held to its midsection to try and hold in the foul-smelling guts that spilled forth. The innards were a jumble of ordinary human organs and slimy purple growths that seemed to vie for space inside the beast. Valdr regarded it with some mix of pity and disgust as it tried to turn around to face him, but slipped on its own fluids and sprawled on its belly, whining pathetically. It would be cruel to leave it like this, he decided. It had once been a man, it did not deserve to suffer further.

Stepping alongside it, Valdr felt it grasp weakly at his leg, and he brought the axe down quick on the back of its neck. Two swift chops were enough to leave it still and silent, and Valdr felt the usual nausea as the rush of battle faded.

"Well, it's good to see that you at least know how to use that thing," the imp remarked as Valdr stepped out from the loose grip of the dead monster. "Maybe you'll last longer than I thought…"