Someone got into a writing mood. So we're here.

"Ugh," Nan said, flinging more water out of her hood as the four and their horses entered a small grove of trees. "I wish we would just get there already. I'm tired of the rain. I'm tired of the bugs. I'm just plain tired of being tired!"

"Well, if you would just put on your hood, then you would not have to suffer such unpleasant things. As a person without slick skin, you cannot find the beauty in a rainstorm such as this. It is refreshing. Transcendent. I almost feel young again…"

Nan glared at the Zora until he fell silent. He, of course, wore no hood over his head, his blue cape had been thrown into one of his saddlebags, and he had the indecency of wearing a smile in a relentless downpour. As a damnable fish, it seemed he enjoyed this type of weather, despite that the mud and muck had stretched the last day of their trip into two. For that enjoyment alone, he would become a tadpole once Vaati could do it. And that damned laughter, delighting in his misery, no doubt. No mouth, or gills, or lungs. The ancient Zora would be nothing more than a pathetic, drowning tadpole. The thought of such evil made Vaati gleefully rub his hands together beneath his cloak.

"Agreed," Ruuya said, nodding in Vaati's direction, mistaking his need for vengeance for a need for warmth, "it's too cold. I like rain, but this...this is too much." The Gerudo shook her head, flinging excess water at Vaati. He grimaced, quietly rewriting a future curse especially for her. A leever, that would be a pleasing transformation. She deserved to be such a mindless thing for making him even wetter and more chilled. So much for that faux summer, he thought, frowning at nearest tree. It had started to brush red, a sign that autumn had truly set in. "I wish we could stay in an inn tonight and eat some warm stew."

"Getting cold feet?" Vaati asked.

She growled. Oh. Right. The toes. She had nearly lost her life because of a pair of cold feet. He smiled menacingly at her, a single fang on display. That little jab was far better than any future spell he could have cast upon her.

Her gaze shifted from side to side. From the way her hands shook, he was certain the Gerudo feared the coming meeting with the king. It seemed that his paranoid fool had merely retreated when the town-witch died, and had not, in fact, perished with the reverent fanatic after all. She had merely hid away in some dark hole in the ground until fate drew her out again.

"No," she said. Vaati lifted an eyebrow. "It's just-"

"A bad idea for a dignified noble to drip a gallon of rainwater on the throne room floor," the Zora remarked. "Or to come unannounced, milord."

He nodded, then smirked wickedly at his apprentice, a wondrous plan popped into his head. More petty evils to ward off his current, wet misery.

"Ruuya." She gulped so loud all could hear it. "When we get to the inn, you will bring a note to the castle informing them that I and my entourage have at last arrived and would like to request a private meeting with the king."

The resulting glare was so sharp, he was surprised it did not impale him through incidental magic. Her hands shook harder, even as tightly gripped as they were on the mare's reigns. A plague of cowardice still gripped her. She raised a hand, but instead of drawing either spear or sword, she further drew down her hood with a rough jerk and nudged her horse forward, leaving the protection of the trees and returning to the grey deluge outside the grove once more. She rode up just beyond the treeline, then came to a sudden stop, back straight, hands limp. They caught up with her quickly, Nan muttering about the rain until she, too, left the woods behind and gasped.

The four riders rested on a great, rocky hill. Down the ridge and up the cobble-poxed dirt road crowded with wet, miserable people, Hyrule Castle Town laid spread out before them. To call it a town, however, did not do it justice. It had escaped the original fortification, covering the hills and dales with roofs of red tiles and whitewashed buildings, although the outermost structures were nothing more than shacks made of wood and thatch. On top of the hill at the center stood the great stone wall of old, and beyond that laid manors, domes, and towers of smooth stone. In his day, it had been little more than a stonewalled hamlet. Now it was magnificent.

"It's grown impressive," Vaati admitted. Unlike the two children in front of him, he refused to gawk in awe of what mere humans had accomplished. Give bokoblins enough time and materials, and they could erect something passable at the very least. He turned to the Zora, who had opened his other saddlebag and begun to fuss about inside. "Are there any suitable inns behind the town walls?"

"Where is that damned thing?" Bazz muttered, scowling. Turning, his normal stoic expression returned to his lined face. "I would not know, Lord Gufuu. The last time I deigned to visit the capitol, it had not grown so large. Although…" The Zora scratched his chin.

"Although what?" Vaati snapped.

"Unless you have made far more money mixing potions than I suspect, you cannot afford to stay at such a rich inn anyway."

"How dare you… You will be a mudfish, mark my words!" He unveiled his fangs, fingers spread briefly like claws. This did nothing to scare the Zora, however, who went back to rummaging through his pack. "Certainly the price of a room has not grown so steep that we can't spend the night in-"

"Two hundred rupees on a day like this," he said in a distracted tone. "Per person, and that was five hundred years ago, when it was barely a city."

Vaati hissed an ancient curse. Ruuya blinked, drawn out of her stupor, though her gaze flashed between them and the distant town. As much as he detested being forced to use them, rupees were a form of power to these ingrates and he refused to relinquish so much to any one of them. "Fine," he growled. "We'll stay at a shitty inn."

The Zora finally withdrew a large, black cloak from his saddlebag, drafted it around his bulky form, and pulled his hood up, encasing his head in shadows. Then, Bazz led the way into Castle Town, while Vaati muttered about the indignancy and disrespect as they joined the thongs of travelers on the road below. He would bring a curse of wind and darkness upon this town once he again had his magic. It would know the cruelty of his wrath for treating him like some middling peasant. It would know it indeed.

/-/

Taking the guise of an old crone, Ruuya headed out from the Melbourne Inn with a letter in the inner pocket of her cloak and no warm stew in her belly. After paying for a private dining room so he would not have to eat with the common folk, Vaati had jotted down a quick letter, sealed it with his own personal stamp, and handed it to her before the wax even had a chance to cool. Bazz gave her a pitying look. Nan, however, had not spoken a word of refute. Instead, the girl had drifted off at the table, head buried in her arms, drool dripping down her chin.

"Take her to bed," she had said to Bazz, donning her still wet cloak once more and fastening the hood. "I expect dinner on my return though."

Vaati rolled his eyes. "I'm not your ser-"

"Or I'm staying here."

"Fine."

Thus, she had found herself out in the miserable downpour once more, a foulness of the future curling in her mind. The rain pattered her hood and flooded the street, the heavens unrelenting in the once precious gift. Her mind drifted to better futures, better places. No rain or soldiers or pompous handsome jerks. And there was no snow mixed in with the downpour.

Wasn't it too early for such dreadful weather?

Slowly, Ruuya slogged through the water, stopping under a small window awning. A fleeting thought enchanted her. To escape the storm, to throw away her duties, of following the winds once more with just Jamila at her side.

Of abandoning them all and this maze of a town. She could find a merchant, buy enough food for a long trip, and throw it all into Jamila's saddlebag. They had forced her to come out here in this autumnal swamp. Even though only Vaati had done so in a virulently, the others hadn't stopped him either. Sure, they were exhausted, but so was she, and Bazz...the damned Zora actually relished the rain.

That was, perhaps, why her feet led her to a nearby market, in which stalls, hawkers, and customers would usually crowd. None, however, were there today. Each stall was closed, their merchandise elsewhere, and only a few unfortunate souls walked the square as night set in. Ruuya sighed, head hung low. Her hopes had been pointless, her plans cut short long before they could flower or bare fruit. Why had she expected any different?

Trudging out of the marketplace, Ruuya stuck to the main streets, hoping they might lead to wherever the castle was. She hadn't seen it on the hilltop. She didn't see any signs pointing to it either. It might've been a fruitless quest in these conditions, and she was certain she had turned the wrong way at least once. Rounding a corner bakery, she considered just going back, and shoving the letter into Vaati's chest. Make him go himself if he was so sure about everything. Make Bazz go, even. He probably had a better idea of how to get to the castle than she did.

Ruuya looked up at the flowers growing beside a window, then across the way where a large image of a boot was painted above a door. She didn't know the way to the castle. She didn't know the way anywhere. Was this the same square as before? Were those the same boxes? The same stalls? The same beggar not smoking his pipe? Did he wear green or brown? Where was the fish sign? How could she make it back to the inn when she...she...didn't know the way?

Heart pounding in her chest, Ruuya felt the darkness deepen around her. The shadows cast by lamp light stretched and curled. Someone was approaching her, someone who felt dark, dangerous, like a creeping spider. She turned before she heard the splash and thump. The figure unfolded and stood tall, almost reaching Ruuya's own height. Her hair was crisp white as snow, her face all lines, but her spryness defied these signs of apparent age. On second thought, she looked no older than Bazz, perhaps in her mid-fifties, or whatever the equivalent was for one of her race. Ruuya drew her blade slightly from its sheath.

"Drop the act," the woman commanded. "I know you are no crone, girl."

Ruuya straightened her back, but rested her hand upon the hilt of her blade. All of her instincts were screaming at her to run or attack. The woman's eyes glowed a striking red in the dark. The shadows danced in her wake. She felt terribly powerful, like the night itself had awakened and taken form. Was this what Vaati would feel like when he was free of his restraints? Was this what Alysse might have become had she fully realized the extent of her powers? Was this what Nan could be if she would just embrace the gifts the gods had given her?

The woman t'sked, folding her arms. "I will not harm you." One of the shadows behind her blinked. "Come."

Ruuya stayed put, gripping the hilt of her blade tighter.

"I said come." Her voice turned frigid. "Do not make me turn that request into a demand."

One of the shadows grew longer and split into thinner tendrils, becoming a facsimile of a hand, reaching out for Ruuya's ankle. A threat. One that, Ruuya quickly realized she had no way to counter. Din's Fire could not blaze through such magic, and she could not summon balls of light to her defense. Surrounded and beaten before drawing her blade, she unwillingly followed the woman through the winding roads and into the night.

Eventually, they stopped in a narrow dark alley near the bad side of town. It was blatantly obvious from the steadily deteriorating buildings and refuse that littered the path. The tall poles with lamps at the top were broken or unlit here and there, with letters and words scratched into the poles themselves. It was the sort of place where Ruuya would expect thieves like her to dwell. The poor and stealthy types, at any rate. No one, however, filled this space. Not even garbage had been dumped here. It was, for all intents and purposes, a dead end between two leaning piles of lumber that almost sheltered the alley from the rain.

Arms crossed for warmth against the near-freezing damp, Ruuya kept her senses spread out, tracking the other woman's magic. It was an ever shifting cloak one moment, and a serpent lying in wait the next. It was everywhere, enveloping the world so few were able to realize. But here, away from prying eyes, she sensed something else just beyond a wooden wall. Lesser shadows, the children of the spider. There was no door here, no window, no sign that this was anything but the back of some workshop. But they were there.

"I do not like bringing outsiders here," the woman said, stepping up to the wall. She placed her hand flat upon it. A moment later, the darkest shadows in the alley began to crawl, then climbed up the wall. They slithered together, and before long they formed a perfect rectangular, not unlike a door, undulating in a pure black portal. "But I do not like the idea of speaking inside an inn or in the street, either. There are too many prying ears."

"Are you…" She wasn't sure what the Hyrulean word for "assassin" was, so... "A thief?"

That produced a snort. "Absolutely not," she said, then beckoned her to go first. "We will speak inside."

Swallowing hard, Ruuya stepped through the door of shadow. No chill passed over her, no strange feeling at all. It was like passing through a regular doorway. That, itself, made her shiver. Shadows shouldn't feel normal.

For a brief, terrifying second she was blind. The constant downpour was silenced, and her own breathing was muted. She kept moving forward regardless, the threat now on all sides, and suddenly, there was soft light. She found herself in a homey but dim foyer. A young maid no older than Nan swept the shiny wooden floor, but paused and stared when she noticed them enter. Her eyes, red like the woman clad in black, shifted from Ruuya to the mage then back again.

"Who is this, grandmother?" the girl asked, a shy and nervous lilt to her quiet voice.

"Prepare some tea and refreshments, Paya," she replied. "Then bring them up stairs."

The girl nodded, twin white hair buns perfectly still, then ducked behind a rich cream curtain. As the cloth fell back into place, Ruuya found herself staring. Carefully sewn into the fabric was the outline of a red, unblinking eye. Her mouth ran dry. It was unmistakable. A legend of a bygone era only seen in a book or two. A warning and holy symbol rolled into one. The sign of the Seekers of Truth, the People of Shadow.

The Sheikah.

She had read that they all had gone extinct. How, none were quite sure, save for it coinciding with a mass exodus. Again, her heart raced. Wordlessly, Ruuya followed the mage to the second floor, entering the nearest room of the several doors in the long hallway.

It was a small room, barely larger than Vaati's closet with only a narrow bed, a dim hearth, a small desk, and a pair of matching chairs, no cushions. The mage sat on one and gestured for her to take the other, but instead, Ruuya sat on the bed, sliding back against the nearest wall.

This made the mage frown, but Ruuya didn't give a damn. She was so tired she could sleep on the back of a sandseal.

"Who are you?" Ruuya asked, watching the shadows cast by the fire. They didn't dance unnaturally, despite her abrupt rudeness. So, Ruuya pressed her luck. "Why invite me to your tent?"

"Take off your hood." The demand made her reach for her blade once more. Long extinct or not, there was no friendship to be found here. No alliance nor debt to be paid. The shadows did sway then, a slight movement opposing the flickering firelight. Ruuya paused and withdrew her hand, reluctantly complying. If this mage wanted her dead, she wouldn't be breathing. "Ah, so you are the Gerudo."

Ruuya blinked. "The Gerudo."

"Ruuya." Dammit. She almost reached again for her blade, but rolled her hand into a loose fist instead. "The apprentice to one Lord Gufuu."

"Yes," Ruuya admitted through clenched teeth.

"I see." She felt something poke at the tent flaps that guarded her mind from magical intrusion. "I would have expected someone more powerful."

That… Ruuya glared. "I'm a perfectly capable apprentice-"

"Not you, though your powers are not so great either," she replied. Ruuya flinched. This woman made her seem as blunt as a pillow. "Your master."

In any other situation, that would have made her laugh. With his ego inflated as it was and the deceptive web of lies he kept, Vaati certainly deserved such insults. The sorcerer could barely do anything more than posturing and using his silver tongue to get his way. But here and now, in the presence of a stranger who wielded shadows without words or movement, and made even the likes of Flow seem like an amateur, her instincts told her to defend him. She wasn't sure why.

"He's more skilled than powerful, and is far better at hiding his abilities than any other mage I have ever met," Ruuya replied. It was only one part lie to two parts truth. "I believe he was hired for his knowledge, not his magic."

The woman's face remained blank. "An interesting way to put it."

"Do you plan to kill him?"

"Not yet," the woman said. Then a knock sounded on the door. "Come in, Paya."

Without a word, Paya placed both tea and tray on the table then left as quickly as she had come. The mage shook her head, pouring the tea and handing a sandwich on thick rye bread to Ruuya herself.

"That girl will have to one day learn to serve guests herself," the mage remarked. "She is much too shy and coddled."

Ruuya nearly said it was the mage who had done the coddling. Nearly, but she liked having a head, and she was growing increasingly certain that the old woman could kill her just by strangling her with the shadow cast by her head onto her neck. Holding her tongue, she took a bite of her sandwich instead.

Between bites, she asked, "How did you know I was hungry?"

"You hadn't eaten."

She washed the bite down with a gulp of tea. Just how long had this woman been watching them?

"Your stomach growled earlier."

Slowly, Ruuya lowered her cup, resting it on the desk. Had she read her mind? Bazz had said… But Bazz was a mediocre mage. Out of practice, perhaps, to be barely more than a candle during the cleansing. Maybe one as powerful as this had broken free of the restraints most others would face. Ruuya hardened her tent into a fortress, as solid as the rock walls her ancestors had once dwelt in. The mage raised an eyebrow.

"Why did you bring me here?" Ruuya asked.

"Pity," she replied. "Your master sent you out without a chance to eat into a city you could not know to deliver a message that you could not hope would make it to the right pair of eyes."

"Oh."

"The guards would not receive such a letter from an old crone...or a Gerudo."

Ruuya nodded. She had been right. "And throw her into a dungeon?"

The woman laughed. Ruuya frowned. She hadn't met that as a jest. "A dungeon? Do you think us so barbaric as that?" she asked. "They would simply turn you away, girl, or burn the letter. I had thought it best to take out the middleman, so to speak, and deliver it to the king myself. I will request that a meeting be made on your master's behalf two days hence at two in the afternoon."

"Why should I trust you?" Despite her words, she reached into her inner pocket and handed her the slightly soggy letter. "No, that's the wrong question. Who are you?"

The mage nodded, slicing the seal with one, long red fingernail. "Impa, the nursemaid of Princess Zelda."

Ruuya blinked in disbelief. "Just a nursemaid?"

Impa, having scanned the letter, slipped it into a pouch. "Yes," she said. "Just a nursemaid. Just as your Zora friend is only a captain of the townguard, you a former thief, and that girl a simple country constable."

"You have a lot of information on us," Ruuya said carefully. Her brows knitted together. "Why?"

"We are the Seekers of Truth," Impa said plainly, replacing her empty cup on the desk, her food untouched. "Information is our trade and secrets are our goods. Now, finish your meal, and I shall ask Vahla to return you to your inn."

"Thank you."

Impa stood to leave, but paused at the door. Her red eyes flashed impossibly bright in the dim firelight. "One more thing…"

Ruuya spoke through a mouthful of vegetables, thin cut-beef, and bread. "Don't tell them about this place, right?"

The Sheikah nodded.

"By the Desert Goddess, you have my word," she promised. "I won't tell Gufuu."

With a sharp "hmmm", Impa slipped out of the room, and Ruuya consumed the other sandwich too. After all, she was just a common thief.

/-/

When Ruuya arrived at Melbourne Inn, she found the door to their private dining room locked. More than a bit off-putting, but not entirely unexpected and it was an easy thing to fix besides. Once she checked and was certain that the hallway was vacant of servants and other guests, she took a hairpin from out of her bun, slid it in the keyhole, and unlocked the door with a quiet click. She let herself smile tiredly and reached for the knob, thoughts drifting to a bowl of soup and a welcoming bed. They were just what she needed after dealing with Vaati, Impa, and the ceaseless chill of that damned storm.

She barely touched the knob when the door flung open as though it had a mind of its own. She yanked her arm back, the door lightly grazing it as she suddenly met a pair of blood red eyes.

Vaati stood in the doorway, smiling. It was the kind he reserved for when he countered her into silence or grumbling while having her brew potions. Releasing the doorknob, he grabbed her wrist, his cloak stirred by an unexpected draft. He leaned closer, too close. She could see a faint, jagged scar just under his bangs. "Breaking into your own room?" he asked, his fangs peeking out, dangerous and sharp. He let her go and whirled around, dramatic as always. "I suppose tardiness and thievery is what I should come to expect from a Wasteland Gerudo."

The world screeched to a halt. Ruuya's heart thumped within her ears like a ritual drum. That...no. He knew where she… He knew she wasn't from Gerudo Town? Looking back over his shoulder, head in profile, he grinned so sharp it resembled a knife.

"Yes," he answered smugly, gleefully. "I know what you are. Who you worship. What you did. Imagine if I told the guards. Your friends. Bazz lived in a time when your god brought ceaseless disaster on these lands, you know. He would be the first to run you through."

The former sorcerer stabbed the air with her oversized hairpin like Bazz would do with his spear if the Zora were to find out the whole truth. When had she let go of that?

"Do not attempt to run away from me again."

In one swift motion, Ruuya took back her hairpin and pointed the tip at his neck. "One mistake, and you'll die here," she hissed. Why had she thought things might be different after leaving? Why couldn't she kill a single voe in her life? "How did you learn all this?"

He snorted. "That thing isn't sharp enough."

She drew blood on its tip. "Isn't it?"

But Vaati did not relent. Instead, he grabbed her wrist again. Her hair blew into her face, a few embers from the fireplace singeing her cloak. Damn this draft. "So I am right," he said, his grin growing wider, more sinister. "We need each other. I will keep your secrets and not inform the guards and foolish king or your friends, and you, Ruuya, will continue as you have been. My apprentice… My source.

Do we have a deal?"

She glared, as fierce as when she had awoken in the elders' tent months ago. The burning chant of "trust no voe, trust no foe" from younger days called to her from the past. Called her to grab her other hairpin and stab him, to draw her scimitar, her spear and end the threat to her very life. Her happiness. Her lips trembled into a sneer, but eventually, she conceded, stiffly nodding. He let her go, and her bangs fell into her eyes. Dried. She was amazed this storm had no thunder.

"Good," he said, content. "Now, tell me, did you deliver my message?"

"Eventually," she replied tersely, taking a seat in one of the chairs at the noticeably empty dining room table. He never had gotten her dinner, then. Luckily, she was full. "After getting lost."

He shrugged carelessly.

Ruuya crossed her arms, idly tapping the hairpin against a forearm. "You sent me on that errand just so you could blackmail me, didn't you?" she whispered.

Vaati laughed. Nearly cackled. "Clever," he remarked, the closest thing to a compliment he had ever given. "Of course. And it worked."

She sighed, momentarily reconsidering drawing her blade on him. It didn't matter that she had only subconsciously planned an escape. Shrewd words, she knew, could end her as surely as her needle could kill him. But he still had one thing she didn't have enough of: knowledge about the magical arts. Killing Vaati would have been like burning a book, a terrible waste and troublesome to replace.

With naught else to do, she gave into the exhaustion that had followed in her footsteps since that evening, sighed, and sat at the table. The cushioned chair was far more comfortable than Impa's hard bed. How the woman could depend on that thing, she didn't know. "The meeting's in two days at two," she said, replacing her hairpin. "Hope you have enough money to get through until then… It would be oh so embarrassing for the great Lord Gufuu to spend a night on the street before he meets with the king."

With that, the Gerudo stood and headed off to the bedroom she shared with Nan. The litany of curses concerning finances and indignancy was a sweet lullaby to her ears as she, at last, fell soundly asleep to it and the jingle of rain.

Kandra: You might have noticed that Vaati said that he would've let her stay back in Windfall last chapter, but that was...not exactly true. Vaati did offer that, but he always planned to manipulate her into coming afterwards. He originally did so to be "nice" but Vaati doesn't know what nice really means…

SQ: His meaning of "nice" is like giving a minion a small break, time or otherwise. Can't have his minion breaking down at the cusp of a great step forward, after all. Empathy is beyond him, but strategy is not.