The Time Lost

by Shrub360

When Hyrule was thrown into darkness by the Dark King Ganondorf, nobody knew a hero would appear to save them. This is the story of Hyrule's struggle during their seven years without a hero—the story of the people who lived during this time. OoT. Adult timeline. OCs. The Gerudo language used in this story was created by Nina-Kristine Johnson. Co-authored with Ruki44.

8. The Bridge

Chapter Eight:
The Bridge

Eli

Training started immediately, for both Eli and Leita. Though Leita was to begin her magic training with Mom and other children who showed signs of magic, she and these students also joined Eli and Sheik in the morning workout. It didn't matter whether you were training to be a warrior or a caster, everyone did morning workout together. Eli was on the track to be both, so he also attended magic lessons with Leita. Which workout and training groups they were placed in was determined by age. Physical conditioning was still considered as important for casters to maintain. Mother had always told Eli that physical exercise was good for keeping the mind sharp, which was an asset to a caster's ability to focus and channel their mana effectively into a spell.

It was definitely challenging work. Eli had been usually fairly active himself in helping Dad with the fishing and carting their goods around Castle Town's market and Kakariko before this war started. Leita had also helped out, so even she handled the harder physical conditioning fairly well. Still, the conditioning left Eli sore and weak, limbs trembling as he collapsed into bed each night. However, it seemed like the workouts were harder on some kids more than others. Eli specifically noticed that Sheik seemed to lag behind, but he never complained when the other children did, not even when it made him throw up after a particularly grueling conditioning session. Not that Sheik ever said much to begin with.

Sheik and Eli also got even more conditioning with Impa later in the day. After this, it was breathing exercises, in which she taught them how to breathe with their "stomachs" as well as in through the nose and out the mouth. This was followed with meditation practices.

While Eli was more eager to learn about what it means to be a necromancer, he knew that Impa was no more stupid than his mother. It was obvious that everything had a starting point, basics that must be mastered before more complex skills could be attained. So he attended to these tasks with his full focus. Sheik seemed to follow the same reasoning; he never complained about these more mundane practices.

Eli and Sheik began the beginner's martial art classes, where they were being taught the basics of self-defense along with those in their age group. Impa said she would take over their combat training more privately after they were sufficient in these. Casters were also required to learn basic self-defense, so he also saw Leita during these lessons. Impa helped teach in these groups as well.

Mom said they were fortunate that they still had talented casters and warriors who had survived the first attacks. They were receiving training from some of the best, according to her and Dad.

Though he wasn't sure if he would have considered Jaelic the "best."

Jaelic was their weapons instructor.

He was late to their first lesson. When he finally showed, he smelled strongly of whiskey with his hair scrunched up to the side as if he had just rolled out of bed. His clothing was wrinkled and loose, as if he had fallen asleep in it.

Dad had told Eli that Jaelic was a knight of the royal guard. But he wasn't at all like Kubera or anything Eli had imagined a knight would be. Jaelic was shorter than he had been expecting and smaller in build in general. He had a messy mop of red hair, a five o'clock shadow, and a black patch strapped over his left eye. His remaining right eye was a dull gray.

Jaelic had looked them all over and grimaced before taking a swing out of a metal flask.

"I am Jaelic Daswick," he had said as he screwed the cap back onto his flask. "And I, both fortunately and unfortunately for all of you, will be your weapons instructor for either the remainder of your little lives or until the end of this war—if you actually survive that long."

Eli saw the other children around him shift uncomfortably and give each other disconcerted looks. One boy raised his hand and spoke.

"What if one of us wants to learn a weapon you don't know how to use?"

It was easy to imagine that he hoped to get a different teacher if this was the case.

Jaelic glanced over at the boy lazily. "It's not a problem."

"But—"

"Oi," Jaelic raised his voice over his, his lip curling in an almost confused disgust. "Did I say this was free-for-all for questions? When I say it's not a problem—it's not a problem. Now shut your tiny face and do not make me tell you again, boy, or I will happily shut it for you. You will do what I say, when I say it or you will be smacked. And no—I don't care what your parents think of that. If they want me to train you and if you want to be trained, then you'll deal."

Needless to say, Jaelic was no one's favorite teacher, except Norn Salzo and Aya Pax's for some reason. Though Norn was small himself, it didn't stop him from socking an older kid in the face when they were saying that Jaelic was the coward of the royal guard for fleeing Castle Town so quickly. Aya had followed Norn immediately, punching their victim solidly in the gut.

Jaelic had to pull them apart, though he mostly criticized them for not knowing how to throw a punch.

"Shut up, I don't want to hear that from a cowardly knight!" the older boy had spat at Jaelic.

However, the knight had merely sneered at this insult. "Coward, eh? Maybe, maybe not. Sure, I ain't no Kubera Agni. The captain became captain of the royal guard for a reason. That reason is because everyone loves a hero, ne? But at the end of the day, bein' a hero doesn't get you much. That's why I'm standing here and Captain Agni isn't."

It was Jaelic's last comment that caught Eli's attention the most. He didn't really care if his new mentor was a coward or not. He just wanted to know if he truly had a quality teacher. He didn't want his time wasted on anything that was subpar. He wasn't sure if Jaelic was that yet. All the same, the fate of Kubera had been pestering Eli for a couple weeks now.

So he raised his voice and said, "Are you saying Kubera Agni is dead? Did you see him die?"

Jaelic paused and looked over at him for the first time. Eli felt Leita inch behind him. He walked over to him without answering and did something he didn't expect at all.

Jaelic stared him in the eyes and didn't look away. In fact, it seemed as if Jaelic had forgotten his question entirely and was just examining Eli's soul, leaning in closer. He stared back, somewhat surprised by his mentor's lack of shying away as most people did.

"You must be that Serwen kid. They say you're crazy and your eyes …" said Jaelic. "I mean, fuck, I heard things, but Din, they really are just haunting."

Eli's brow pinched together lightly.

Needless to say, he found the comment unamusing. He was still clueless as ever as to what was it about his eyes that caused the reactions they did in others. The use of the word "haunting" hadn't really bothered him but nor did it exactly make him feel any better about it. What bothered Eli about it was mostly not knowing or understanding why his eyes were different. He merely wanted to understand himself completely and then act accordingly.

The air seemed to have become even more still among his unusually silent peers. They all knew what Jaelic was only now openly addressing. No one had ever said it out loud, never acknowledged explicitly the effect his gaze had until now.

"That doesn't answer my question… sir," Eli added after a pause, allowing the wrinkle in his brow to relax. He wasn't pleased with how Jaelic had disregarded his question and insulted him at the same time, but he also didn't think he would get the answer he wanted if he gave Jaelic lip. He decided to be polite even if his mentor wasn't.

Jaelic shrugged. "I didn't see him die, but if he ain't here helping out, then he's dead."

It wasn't really the definitive answer he had been searching for.

As usual, Eli found he was no more liked by the other children his age or even his other mentors than he had been before the war. While Jaelic didn't treat him any different than the rest of the children, it wasn't as if Jaelic liked him or anyone especially.

Those who hadn't known of Eli before taking shelter in Kakariko were soon unnerved by him and educated by the others. No one wanted to be paired with him during drills and partner exercises. This was unsurprising, though Eli felt… removed from it. It was less tiring and more routine than before. Though, he supposed it was inaccurate to say that no one wanted to be paired with him. Sheik was usually his partner, though he still avoided looking Eli in the eyes.

There was also Darius Binks.

He was a couple years younger, but old enough to be in their training group. Eli still wasn't sure what to make of the other boy. He always tried to wear a strange wooden mask everywhere, though he was often forced to put it away by the other adults. The other kids said it was "gross" and "creepy."

At first, Eli thought Darius was afraid of him like everyone else. The boy stared much longer, and when Eli would look at him he'd blush and look away. However, it almost looked like he was smiling. It wasn't the typical startled response he was accustomed to when he caught another person's gaze.

When Sheik was sometimes taken by someone else as a partner, Darius Binks would eagerly step forward to be Eli's. During these encounters, Binks never said anything to Eli directly. There was much blushing and odd shivering that he would have otherwise taken as Binks being creeped out, but he smiled too much for it to be that.

However, by comparison, everyone seemed the most curious about Sheik. The children would group around him at mealtimes and ask about his Sheikah heritage and his family, sometimes in that insensitive way children would. Eli heard as much as he needed to just by listening and without necessarily engaging.

According to Sheik, he was only a quarter Sheikah. His father had been half and his mother was a Hylian. He had lived in one of the outer villages that got attacked. Impa had saved him. His parents were dead. And no, he didn't know where Princess Zelda was. Sheik would answer most questions directed at him, but he only said as much as he needed to answer the question. He didn't give a lot of details.

Eli continued to feel a sense of detachment even though Darius' behavior was certainly odd and Sheik's tale was a lonely one of loss. He had been feeling that way ever since he told Impa the reason he wanted to fight in the resistance. That he wasn't sure if he really cared about anyone else but his own family. Though to be honest, he had always felt rather detached from others even before the war, and even now, though he heard sad stories all the time from refugees and anyone who had lost anyone.

Talon Romani showed up in Kakariko not long after Castle Town had fallen. Apparently, Ganondorf had appeared at Lon Lon Ranch, though surprisingly he didn't destroy it. Instead, as Eli had overheard the adults during dinner, Ganondorf had seized control of it and handed the ranch over to Talon's employee, Ingo.

Eli remembered Ingo from the times he had stayed at the ranch on the trips back home to Lake Hylia. He was a bitter and resentful person, always grumbling about how lazy Talon was and how much better the ranch would be in his own hands. Granted, Eli did notice that while Talon was very nice and kind, he seemed to sleep and drink a lot. Dad had told him that Talon had lost his wife in the last war, which seemed to have been the root of these habits. Even Malon seemed to work harder than her father, and he often saw her scolding him for not getting work done. She had always seemed to be the one taking care of him rather than the other way around.

So while Ingo might have been kind of right, it was surprising that he had accepted this and sided with Ganondorf.

"But he's a Hylian, like us," Leita had said, over hearing this with him, Mom, and Dad at dinner. She looked down sadly into her soup. "Why would he join Ganondorf?"

Dad sighed heavily, and Mom replied, "It's not as simple as who is a Hylian or who is a Gerudo, love. Sometimes, you never really know what is in other people's hearts … While the blight does blanket Hyrule, it's not solely responsible for Ingo's actions. His desires were probably festering long before in the shadow of his mind. The blight has only magnified this."

"This may be so," said Dad, but then he smiled. "But I'm told that Talon was only allowed to live by Ingo's whim. So there's still some mercy in him."

"Yeah, but his daughter …" said Eli but stopped when Leita's lip started to tremble.

She used to play with Malon.

Eli could easily imagine Ingo's reasons for betraying his own. What he couldn't understand was Ganondorf's reasons for offering such a thing to a Hylian. While it might be true that it wasn't completely about what race they were, race was still a big factor in this war. It bothered him, but he knew he wouldn't be finding the answers to that.

Malon was still at the ranch. They heard that Ingo had not allowed her to leave with her father. That she was, for all intensive purposes, his slave. That didn't really seem like the mercy his father spoke of to him.

Talon now spent most of his time in a drunken stupor or sleeping it off. He was usually accompanied by others like him, who had lost everything as well as their will to fight back. Such as Edayu Mizuumi, the son of Dr. Mizuumi, the elderly scholar who was their neighbor at Lake Hylia.

Luckily, Edayu and Dr. Mizuumi happened to have been visiting Kakariko during the time of the attacks. Though Eli often heard him arguing with Dr. Mizuumi who wanted to return to the lake to continue his research. Even before this new war, Eli had known Edayu to be a silent drunk that Dad would often stop by to visit, even if he never talked much. Dad had said Edayu lost his wife and daughter in the previous Gerudo War, ten years ago. His will seemed to have been taken from him back then.

It was more than just the adults too. Norn Salzo lost his mother, father, and twin sister in the attack on Castle Town. He always seemed to push himself harder than he needed to during morning conditioning and self-defense training. He was only eight summers old. Eli heard him crying in his sleep at night when they were sharing the same house.

Aya Pax, a girl Eli's age, also lost her parents in the attack on Castle Town.

Sad stories, but Eli felt untouched by them.

The only empathy he had was the memory of when he thought that Gerudo was going to kill his father or worse when they were attacked at Lake Hylia. Other than that the only thing he felt was relief that his family had not ended up like theirs.

And then he considered if there could be something wrong with him. Like there was with Ingo. Though he wore the blessed necklace his mother gave him all the time, she told him that she had put a protective circle around the whole village to keep the taint out.

Still, he wondered if he should feel something. Leita seemed to cry at every misfortune she heard. Eli only counted their blessings by comparison.

They hadn't talked much as a family about that night in Impa's house and what he said to her. They had only bickered that night about why Eli had not talked to Mom and Dad about knowing he was a necromancer. Part of the reason was because talking about it would have been troublesome, and he had also wanted to keep it a secret so that he could use the shadows to access information they would normally keep out of his reach.

Eli had, in turn, bickered back about why Mom had never told him first. He got the usual "I wanted to wait until you were older" response. They wondered why he always had to get his answers the sneaky way. It was because they kept treating him like this. Eli knew he was a child, but he also resented these decisions being made for him just because of that. He wanted the truth no matter how horrible it was.

Dad acted like nothing was different. Leita was just happy Impa wasn't going to punish Eli or kick him out of the village for being a necromancer. Other than that, it didn't seem to bother her at all, as he had feared it might. Mom didn't mention anything about his claim of not caring about anyone else but them. Even though this was in direct opposition to what Mom had declared to Vivian in defense of necromancers like himself.

He supposed that was just the thing. Even if Mother was right, and they were all technically Farore's children, people seemed to forget this when it was convenient for them. Besides, it also meant they were family with the Gerudo, but that certainly was never acknowledged. It didn't stop the fighting. It didn't stop the fact that they often killed each other.

So it didn't really matter.

It was hard to adhere to such an ideal, when others would disregard it the moment they ever found out he was a necromancer. It didn't seem beneficial or practical to him. He had enough trouble just dealing with the dead making demands of him. The living demanding his investment was just as much of a burden in his eyes.

Eli had started to ignore all the dead spirits he saw.

Kakariko was already crowded, but to Eli it was swarming not just with the living but with the dead as well.

Now it seemed that if one of them realized that he could see them, they would follow him around, begging him to take messages back to their loved ones. This usually attracted other spirits who desired the same. Eli found if he ignored them for long enough, they would give up and go away. However, it was never long before another spirit would notice he saw them and it all repeated itself again.

Norn's family was the worst. Particularly his twin sister who sought Eli out on a daily basis, trying to get him to react to her and acknowledge her existence. Her parents would come too sometimes to beg and plead for him to speak to Norn on their behalf.

"Please, we watch him all the time. He's in so much pain …"

But Eli let his eyes pass through them. Their voices fell on ears he wished could be deaf to them.

"Why are you such a jerk?!" Norn's sister had shouted at him and tried to kick him in the shins, but her ghostly foot just passed through it. "You have to tell Norn it wasn't his fault!"

He ignored them because such requests were just impossible. Ridiculous even.

There was no way he could just go up to their families and friends and deliver messages for them. Everyone already thought he was crazy enough, but then how could he possibly explain knowing intimate details about their relationships? How was he supposed to explain that he knew their loved ones were dead when they probably didn't know this yet themselves?

He didn't even like doing this for his own father.

A couple weeks after the Vivian incident, Eli had dreamed about Kubera Agni. It was fuzzy and vague, but Eli remembered he said things, things about regret or not being able to protect Ceres and his children. It was because he was dead. It was just the feeling he got from the dream.

It took him a while to tell Dad. Partly because he wasn't sure if he should sadden his father over what was only a dream. If he didn't have any evidence, it wasn't worth troubling him. This was why he had bothered to ask Jaelic if he had witnessed Kubera's death.

He needed proof, some kind of tangible evidence.

He soon found it was a relief to have Impa as his mentor, because he finally could ask her questions, things that maybe only the guardians of the dead would know about being a necromancer. Thankfully, she didn't seem to mind the questions like Jaelic did.

He usually waited until they were done with their exercises and meditation. Sheik was always there too, which was the down side. But Eli soon didn't really mind him. Sheik never talked a lot and minded his own business for the most part. After all, Sheik knew he was a necromancer but hadn't told anyone. It hadn't seemed to bother him at all either.

"Have there been other death adepts like me?" asked Eli. "Ones that can feel, see, and hear dead spirits?"

One thing he favored about Impa was that she never lied to him. She looked him in the eyes, as if examining him again. As if the question itself had made him a puzzle to her.

"No," she answered. "Anyone can sense or 'feel' the dead if they develop the spiritual capacity to do so. However, it's most common for death adepts to have this capacity with no previous training or spiritual development. For some death adepts, their ability to sense dead spirits was so naturally intense that they could feel the emotions of the spirits as if it were their own. However, no death adept has ever had more than two of these particular senses or 'connections' with the dead. You are the first I have ever heard of having all three."

This hadn't exactly been comforting.

Even among death adepts, Eli wasn't the same. Still, he wanted to know, even if it might be frightening. He wanted to know what was normal for necromancers and what wasn't, and where he fell in that spectrum. He wanted the truth. He wanted to know himself.

Ignorance was something he found distasteful in general, but ignorance of himself was just pathetic.

Though he had to admit, he still seemed to struggle with sensing dead spirits. After all, if he had been able to do that better then maybe he wouldn't have mistaken them for living people for so long. He still wasn't sure sometimes, which was why he kept accidentally catching their eyes.

"Have any other death adepts had 'haunting' eyes?" he asked.

Impa had turned and raised a brow at him.

"Like mine?" he added for clarification. "It's just that it's mostly just you or my family that can look me in the eyes … What is it about mine that seems to 'haunt' people?"

Impa had gazed back at him for a long spell before answering. She seemed to be measuring her words.

"Your eyes are also a trait unique only to you. I have never known or heard of anyone who has eyes that 'haunt' as you describe them to … However, I do believe your eyes haunt only those who have not confronted and made peace with their own death and shadow."

Eli's brow furrowed. "What does that mean exactly?"

"It means that when others look into your eyes, death is what stares back. Their own mortality and their hidden and rejected aspects that have been locked away in the shadow of their minds." Impa paused and then stared directly into his eyes. "This is what your eyes mirror for them. This is what I see as well."

"What do you mean by 'death'?" he probed. "Do they see themselves dying or …?"

Impa sighed. "It's difficult to put into words, of course. I'll still try to give you an answer.

"Every individual thinks and experiences 'reality' in their own unique way. It's part of what makes us individuals. This is what makes it difficult to say for sure what the exact effect your eyes will have upon others. The effect will likely be as diverse as the individuals you encounter. Still, we sometimes share cultural realities. These people who share cultural realities will think of and trigger the same or similar things and feelings when they think of the word and the concept of death, darkness, or the unknown."

Right, a Gerudo might think of different things than a Hylian would. They had different cultures affecting their perspectives. Yet, Eli was still dissatisfied with this answer. He needed a more concrete one, an example to consider.

"But what do you 'see' in my eyes? How do you 'see' it?" he asked. That was probably a personal question to ask his mentor, but he wanted to understand the effect he had on others. Eli stared ahead rather than look at Lady Impa. Less eye contact could sometimes make it easier to talk about such things.

"Hm, I suppose it would make me think and feel things that are invoked by a concept."

"You sound like a book," Eli quipped at her with a steady expression. He heard her chuckle softly.

"It's interesting what one word or concept can invoke in a person's mind. It can invoke memories long thought buried and rivers of emotions and thoughts tangled with them. It can even invoke somatic responses in a person such as a shudder or other signs of anxiety. The difference between myself and the typical Hylian you would encounter is that I have learned not to judge these concepts. I have made my peace with the past. I know my rivers of emotions. I can sense the direction my clouds of thought drift. All these things are in harmony with each other within me."

"So that's why you can look me in the eyes?"

She nodded.

He didn't know what to feel about all that either. "Why do I… have this 'effect' on others?"

Impa shook her head. "Even that is something I can't tell you. This was your gift since birth. Perhaps it is part of your deep connection to death and shadow magics. I'm not sure. I imagine this is something only you can determine for yourself."

Eli remained silent after her response, staring down into his lap. Impa and his mother always talked about these things as his "gifts." But even the term "gift" seemed wrong. After all, gifts are usually things valued and wanted..

What Eli had wasn't something one always desired. The reactions others had to him seemed to prove this, but still, he had found his "gifts" useful. Speaking to the shadows at least was very insightful, but he was finding communicating with the dead to be more trouble than it was worth.

Impa spoke up again. "Eli, we are all mirrors. Mirroring each other, mirroring the universe."

"That seems a rather perplexing state of existence," said Eli. Like one of those "fun house" mirror rooms that he saw in Castle Town market once.

"It is," she agreed. "Or at least it can be … Be careful to not confuse what others see in you as who you are. You are just a mirror of a specific aspect and truth of themselves. A mirror is just a mirror, it is not what it reflects. You understand?"

"Yes." All the same, it didn't stop everyone else from making the mistake she was describing. Even if he knew he was not what his eyes reflected for them, they didn't seem to have the same understanding.

Impa nodded, and they meditated in silence for a few moments longer. In truth, Eli was deciding how he wanted to phrase his next question. The one he had been holding inside for too long now.

"Lady Impa, can death adepts communicate with spirits of the dead in dreams?" he asked finally.

Impa paused, eyeing him almost curiously. "I suppose so. Sometimes spirits even communicate with those who lack the gift through dreams. The dreamtime is a very universal space."

"So they might be able to determine if someone had died, even if it was a while ago and far away?"

"It's possible." Impa narrowed her red eyes at him in a piercing manner. "Eli, just be frank. Did you have a dream about someone?"

Eli glanced away but nodded. "Kubera Agni. He didn't really explicitly say he was dead but … I just knew he was, during the dream. It was too vague to have specifics. More of a feeling than anything."

Impa nodded. "I see … And now you are questioning the validity of your dream."

"Yes, because I must be absolutely certain. Because it would mean I have to tell my father."

"Have you considered that you're only questioning its validity because you don't want to tell your father?" asked Impa. Her red eyes focused on him in a way that made him feel pressed and exposed.

He didn't like that.

He felt a stubborn urge to deny her question immediately, but even Eli knew that was foolish and childish. Yet he also didn't answer it at all. He knew that question was for him more than the answer was for her.

It was a question and an answer he knew that plagued him for the rest of the day. After all, there had been an easy and obvious way to get a more definitive answer all along that he had ignored until now. At night, the shadows and darkness spread wide. He could have asked, but he hadn't.

Later, he found himself alone with Dad, helping clear away debris in the evening before they would go help with dinner. The sun was almost completely set, so that the dark blue of the evening sky overshadowed the pale blue of day. His fingers were getting chilled holding the charred bits of wood as his father broke the larger pieces down so that he and Leita could more easily carry them.

Dad put one last piece in his laden arms. "There, that should do it."

But Eli didn't turn away to deposit it elsewhere. He stared at it for a moment, weighing his next words for so long it made Dad raise a brow.

"Eli?"

He looked up into his father's concerned green eyes.

"You should stop asking people about Kubera." Eli looked away, toward the darkening sky.

"Why?"

"Because … I had a dream about Kubera. It told me that he was dead." Once he started, he didn't pause again. Eli knew there was no way to say it that would make it hurt any less. Either he would say it plainly or not at all.

Eli looked up at Dad, mostly just to see if there was disbelief in his eyes. He expected as much. It was only a dream. But seeing that disarmed look of pain on his father's face shocked and disturbed him more than the idea of not being believed.

Dad swallowed hard, just staring at him for a long time. The wind blew through the trees, making their crinkled leaves ruffle and click together.

"Oh." Dad nodded, looking down and somehow lost.

Eli slowly gripped the broken and burned wood and brick in his arms as he looked down. He didn't know what to say now. How to comfort him. There was no way to really do that. There was nothing to be done that could ever make something like that hurt less.

He knew how much Kubera meant to Dad. He remembered the nights they would stay over in Castle Town instead of Lon Lon Ranch. Sometimes, when Kubera got home late especially, Dad, Mom, and Killian would drink and talk about the "old days." When they were just young trainees in the guard. They would talk about their friends they lost in the war. Tarento and Akata. Ceres' sister Fae, and her husband and son.

Dad, Mom, Ceres, Killian, and Kubera were all that was left of their group. Now his father had lost another friend.

Eli's insides squirmed. He turned his back and said softly, "Sorry."

He left quickly, because there was nothing he could do. He didn't go back after he dropped his pile of broken bits in the appropriate area. Instead, he went to help his mother distribute dinner.

Dad didn't show up.

Eli ended up giving his food to a curious Goron from his magic lessons group. He couldn't swallow it.

He collapsed into his bedding that night, noticing that his body wasn't as sore and tired as it had been before. It seemed he was finally getting used to this regimen. He still hoped that Norn wouldn't be crying tonight. Before Eli was too exhausted to let such a thing keep him awake, but now he wasn't so certain. He knew such thoughts were insensitive and callous, but he still thought them. It wasn't as if there was anything Eli could do.

There was nothing he could do for any of them.

There was nothing he could do about the dead. Being a death adept seemed pointless to him. All he could do was deliver bad news.

He managed to fall asleep, even though Norn did start whimpering at some point. It seemed he was used to that now too. He rolled out of bed in the morning to start it all over again. Eli noted his progress was good, acceptable, in his conditioning and his lessons. He preferred focusing on this rather than his father's slumped shoulders that morning. Eli hadn't looked him in the face since last night.

Jaelic wasn't one to exactly give a lot of praise, but he would smirk in an appreciative way that let Eli know he was doing things right. Jaelic was starting them all out on basic arming sword and knife training. He said it was good to have moderate skill with the two most basic weapons you could ever run across.

Jaelic stopped him in the middle of practice and asked, "Weren't you using your right hand yesterday?"

Eli nodded and shrugged. "I can use either."

Jaelic smirked in that appreciative way again. "So you're ambidextrous."

"Yeah, like a filthy Gerudo," snorted Tad Quill, a boy his age.

Jaelic stopped and angled his torso just so as to give Tad a pointed stare. He swaggered a step closer and said, "And what the fuck do you know about Gerudos? Do you even know how we won the last war?"

"Uh, because we were better," answered Tad, like the question was a stupid one.

Jaelic rolled his eyes exhaustively. "OH! We were better. That's fucking astute, Quill. I do hope you didn't hurt yourself too much thinking of that one."

Tad opened his mouth to retort something, but Jaelic cut him off.

"Well, I guess you might have been partially right," he continued, twisting the cap off his flask. "We were better—but at something a lot more specific. Magic. We had magical might, casters like Elias Serwen on our side, and just more casters in general. Gerudos don't produce many casters and not a lot with enough talent to be much of a threat."

Jaelic took a swig out of his flask and smacked his lips before continuing. "But what do you think we're doing here?"

He held his hand around and turned around to look at them all.

"Hiding behind these magical barriers? Which by the way Ganondorf could take down just by sneezing at them. How do you think we've lost so much so easily? One: Ganondorf is their magic trump card. None of this would have happened this way if it wasn't for him. My point is this: when we lose the magical dick-measuring contest, who wins the melee one?"

He didn't wait for an answer.

"I'll tell you who: Gerudos. They are better fighters. That's a fact, kid. I know. I've seen it up close. They start training younger than most Hylians. They train harder. They train harsher. If you think Gerudos are all naturally ambidextrous, then you're stupid. They have to train themselves to use two scimitars."

Tad snorted. "Geez, it sounds like you admire those bastards."

Jaelic did that pause thing again. It had the effect of making others feel instantly unsure of themselves. He let the silence continue uncomfortably as he walked up to Tad and kneeled down to look him square in the eyes with his own gray eye.

"Don't let pride or hate cloud your judgment. You always respect your opponents. Always."

"Why?" demanded Tad. "It's not like they've respected us!"

Jaelic gave him a quick little swatt on the cheek. "Hey, what the fuck are you worrying about that for? Can you control how they behave? No. You can't. The only thing you control is yourself. You let pride and hate get in the way, it's you who suffers for it."

He stood up again, eyeing Tad as the boy rubbed his cheek with a scowl, almost as if daring him to speak again.

"Now enough of this chit-chat."

Later, for their hand-to-hand combat, they were sparring in partners. This time Impa was splitting them up herself, so they didn't get to choose who they would be with. She said it wasn't conducive to their training to get accustomed to one person's style.

Aya Pax was the one unlucky enough to be paired with Eli. He noticed most of the children in their age group seemed to respect and admire her. She learned quickly. She was good at fighting. She had short, dark brown hair, but it was curly and reached her chin-level.

Eli looked her in the eyes. He was starting to realize that this was an unconscious habit of his when he first met someone. He would have thought with all the responses he got, he would have learned to avoid eye-contact to begin with. However, it felt as though he just sought their eyes out first, as if he couldn't have solid footing until he found their eyes.

Aya had gray-blue eyes that shifted immediately away from his. He saw her shoulders tense up though; her body posture was puffing up in a way that remind him of when Ventus Agni would try to look him in the eyes. She glared at his nose, before managing to fix a most determined glower at his eyes. It was as if she couldn't do it if she wasn't glaring at him. Kind of like how Ventus couldn't do it either unless he made that face like he was trying to take a shit.

Eli responded by simply putting his fists up, on guard. His feet slid easily into a half-moon stance. Aya snapped to this position as well. She glared at his nose now that she seemed to prove she could look him in the eyes.

He felt other eyes on them. The others seemed distracted by their pairing and Aya's glare.

He heard someone chuckle, possibly Tad, and say, "The freak is gonna get smacked."

"Start!" Impa called out.

Aya charged in. It was rather predictable, what with that glare she had on her face. It seemed she had decided to hate him for what his eyes reflected at her, and she was keen on attacking whatever that was.

Like Impa said, in fights, it was often better to just get out of the way.

So Eli did. It took less energy to dodge and block than to attack. Aya fired off a barrage of punches before she seemed to realize what he was doing.

She stopped and snarled, "Aren't you gonna fight, cowa—"

Eli tagged her in the gut quickly and then snapped back into his on-guard stance.

That just made her eyes flash dangerously again, and she went for another furious pace of punches at him. She chased him around for a bit until she was panting.

Eli went in for the metaphorical kill. She had tired herself out. She was his to play with, and he did. He would tag her here and there. It would make her snap, react, and try to fight back. However, she was still too tired to do so effectively. It led her only further into her demise. Tagging her would open her up for another and another.

Finally, Impa called out, "Stop!"

Eli stopped but didn't necessarily drop his guard. He didn't put it past Aya to keep attacking even when Impa said to stop.

However, she did drop her fists to clench them angrily at her sides. "You cowardly bastard! You didn't fight, you just ran away!"

Eli raised a brow. "I ran at first, but it looked to me that I was winning."

"That—that was just because you didn't face me like a warrior to start with! Because you're too scared to face me head on!" she proclaimed, pointing an accusing finger.

"I wasn't scared," Eli stated, calmly and matter-of-factly. "It just seemed to be a better tactical advantage to let your own anger tire you out. It certainly took less effort on my part."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Aya stomped her foot. "You're a coward. You're not a real warrior at all!"

Hm. Eli was starting to see what Jaelic was talking about before. Being heroic and brave certainly seemed overrated if it meant he should act like an idiot.

"In that case, I'd rather be intelligent than a real warrior," said Eli simply.

Aya gave him a look of deep disgust but didn't get to respond because Impa was having them rotate partners now.

His next unfortunate partner was Willow Glyndi. She was his age, with dirty blonde hair that was tied up in a familiar bun. That was because she was Vivian Glyndi's granddaughter. Her purple eyes darted nervously away from him. There was still some baby-fat that made her face round.

"That was really impressive—Y-you winning against Aya like that."

Eli blinked. That was the first time anyone his age had really complimented him. He stared at her, not seeming to notice the polite thing to do is thank her for it.

"Um," Willow began again, still not looking anywhere near his face. Her hands twisted behind her. "I-I know your mom and my grandma disagreed, but I wanted you to know I still respect you. After all, you're still Elias Serwen's grandson."

She said it like it really mattered.

"You should put your hands on guard," Eli advised as he slid back into his fighting stance.

Willow flushed and stumbled into the stance. "R-right …"

It went on like this for the rest of the hand-to-hand lesson. Eli noted he "won" each round with a fair amount of ease. He supposed this was good, but he was now concerned about the lack of challenge. If he didn't have someone to struggle against, he would not grow and become an even better fighter.

He needed to be the best he could be, the best that was possible. Because he wasn't going to take any chances.

The magic lesson after this was more difficult or rather more uncomfortable. They were preparing to start doing basic spells, mana manipulation, and elemental control depending on what class and type of caster everyone was. Eli had discussed this before with Mom. He would only be doing Shadow magic during these group lessons.

It wasn't easy, especially since they didn't always have an available teacher for every specific adept, elemental, or sorceress. This made his mother and any other of their few mages rather busy. They were attempting now to teach children who could cast certain magics into specific groups.

Norn went off to a Goron's group, who was teaching Earth adepts. Eli was the only shadow "adept" so far. Tad had snorted to Aya, upon learning this, that creepy shadow magic suited Eli well.

Right now, though, he was watching Leita in another group.

"The first step to life magic really is illusion magic," Mom explained to the group. "If you're lucky, illusion will be your secondary magic type if you wish to really master life magic. Illusion magic is easier. It requires a great amount of focus and visualization. You must see what you want to create perfectly in your mind's eye and hold it as you cast. Life magic is the same, and it requires an even greater concentration to maintain as well as more mana depending on the size and complexity of the thing you are trying to manifest. Illusion magic is like life magic but without substance.

"The incantations are also different. The general life manifestation incantation is okurimono seikatsu, and the Maya Artifice illusion spell that would be considered its matching pair is maya nisemono. Today, if you have illusion magic, you will attempt a small Maya Artifice Illusion. The beauty of the spell is that the illusions you craft with it can be as large or small as necessary. The only limitation is your imagination and focus. The less complex, the less difficult it will be to successfully cast it. There are also less powerful spells that create life and illusion effects, and thus belong under those types respectively, and they are far easier to cast. This is because the incantation guides the effect. Okurimono seikatsu and maya nisemono depend entirely on your imagination, visualization, and concentration."

Then each student in the circle of their group went and attempted an illusion. With most, nothing happened. A couple managed to create a flickering image in the center of the circle. Then it was Leita's turn.

At first it seemed like Leita was oblivious to it being her turn. She had her eyes closed and a dreamy little smile on her face. It made him chuckle to himself. But just when Mom was about to call her name again, Leita said, "Okurimono seikatsu."

Butterflies burst forth fluttering in the air with white wings tipped with a blushing light pink. They flocked to Leita and landed on her.

She still had that dreamy smile on her face, and her eyes were still closed. It was as if she didn't even need to open them to know that she had succeeded.

More shocking to Eli and everyone else was that Leita had used the life incantation, not the illusion one. Those were real butterflies resting on her head and arms. Mom stared in surprise for a moment but then smiled.

Leita opened her eyes, giggling because a butterfly landed on the tip of her nose.

"Whoa." Eli heard Tad gasp next to Aya.

Eli even felt himself smirk with pride.

"Well, she is a Serwen," said Willow matter-of-factly, as if this made the fact she had only managed a flickering illusion in comparison excusable.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean all the Serwens are so great," retorted Aya, eyeing Eli specifically.

Willow pouted. "Eli hasn't even had a chance to cast yet …"

"Why not? He's a shadow adept, right? Illusion could be his secondary; it matches his cowardly nature." Aya smirked.

Eli rolled his eyes. They liked to talk about him like he wasn't even there. "Of course, you're a master of determining magic gifts, Aya, I forgot."

Eli couldn't even tell which of his magic types was his core or secondary. Both seemed equally present in him, something that Impa told him was, yet again, unusual.

"Mrs. Serwen," Aya called out. "Can't we try some elemental stuff now? I want to see Eli cast shadow magic, if he even can."

Eli was impressed that Aya dared to even suggest a mocking tone in her voice with his mother. He supposed she did have guts even if she didn't have brains.

Mom rested her dark blue eyes on Aya, who suddenly seemed to realize exactly who she was talking to. Aya cleared her throat and added, "Please?"

Mother smiled, but her eyes possessed a devilish and sly glint. "I suppose … Eli, the basic spell for controlling shadows is tatchi kage. For your first attempt just try making your own shadow grow."

Eli inhaled and then exhaled, trying to focus on the intent of the spell and gathering his mana which gave the incantation life. "Tatchi kage."

He stared at his shadow, but it did not grow.

He heard Aya snort.

"Well, Miss Pax, how about we try a basic fire spell for you?"

"W-what?"

Eli was still frowning at his shadow. Mom and Impa always talked about how deep his connection was to his magic types. Somehow, he had assumed it would have been as easy as talking to shadows to make them move at his command. He would have to give it more practice than Leita would.

Eli sparred with Sheik later during their individual lessons with Impa. He still found he won easily, but Sheik still did better than most of his other opponents. He thought it was admirable, since Sheik had seemed to struggle the most at first. Now it seemed he was used to the training schedule too.

"You've gotten a lot better," breathed Eli, during a brief break in their practice.

"Thanks," Sheik huffed in return.

There was a brief moment of silence before Eli asked, "Are you really from the outer villages?"

Sheik looked up, briefly meeting his eyes. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that the outer villages typically survive on hunting, farming, lumberjacking and such. Children who grow up in these villages usually get a fair amount of physical activity daily just helping their parents in these trades. You didn't seem used to the same level of physical activity when you first started. You seemed more like a child of a scholar or caster from Castle Town, someone accustomed to using their mind more than their body."

"Oh, I see," said Sheik in the same even soft tone he always did. "All the same, why would you think I'd say something untrue?"

Eli supposed that was implied in his question. He looked Sheik in the eyes, but the trouble was that hardly anyone would look back. So it was hard to tell if they were lying or just uncomfortable because of his eyes in general.

There could be a lot of reasons that Sheik wasn't as accustomed to physical activity before now even if he was from the outer villages. There wasn't really any reason to think that Sheik was lying. Of course, he wasn't stupid enough to not notice that Sheik was the same age as the missing Princess Zelda. He had thought it weird that Impa would leave the last remaining Royal Family member without her direct protection. He had considered at first that maybe it was an Illusion spell making Zelda just look like a part-Sheikah boy. However, an investigation with his shadows told him that there was no illusion spell. Sheik was a real boy through and through. Well, as "real" as anything could be. There were those with a penis who claimed the soul of a woman and vice versa.

However, Eli knew his Hylian history and traditions. The Nohansen bloodline births mostly those with a vagina and uterus. Those born with the blood of Nohansen and a penis were usually infertile. The royal family members were also typically raised in stricter roles than the average Hylian civilians. Typically this meant that genitalia and feminine roles were "intended" to "match." The fact she was called "Princess" suggested as a Hylian that she was a woman and that she was fertile. Sheik had a penis, so even if he was of the Nohansen bloodline, it meant he would not be fertile.

It was this that made Eli decide to take Sheik at his word.

"You're right," Eli said after a brief moment. "Nevermind."

They continued their practice in silence and then meditated.

The day was practically over. He left Impa and Sheik to go help out with chores. The sun was starting to set. It turned the world shades of gold and auburn, matching the trees that were changing slowly from green to yellow, orange, and red. They were well into the Month of Shadow. He was turning eleven at the end of the month.

That's when Eli saw him in that bright light of the dying sun, toward the entrance of the village. It made him stop in his tracks and his heart leapt despite himself. He had been hoping, waiting for this.

His feet quickened their pace toward him, feeling a smile start to shape his lips, and began to call out, "Killian—"

"Eli, wait—" began his uncle.

He reached out to touch him just as Killian raised his hands in a gesture to stop him. Eli's hand passed through his, making him freeze in place and his inside seize. He looked up at his uncle, taking a step back, his forehead tensing.

Killian looked back at him, his own expression tense and apologetic.

"Kiddo … Eli …" His uncle began but seemed unable to find the words.

Indeed, what did you say when you were dead?

No. He already knew why Killian was here. The world seemed to be shuddering and still all at once. His insides had seemed to vanish out of orbit, his heart thundering like something separate from himself. His head felt coldly clear.

He turned away. People would notice if he was talking to "nothing."

"W-wait!" He heard Killian's voice tremble ever so slightly in desperation. "Eli, I'm sorry."

Eli kept walking, trotting numbly forward, but he saw other dead spirits take notice of Killian calling out to him. They turned and began to follow. He saw Norn's twin sister again.

His fists tightened as he walked.

"Wait!"

"Little boy, can you see me?"

"You're that Serwen kid—you can see us."

"Please, please I need you to tell my family—"

Eli walked faster. More spirits followed and called out to him. Killian's voice was just one of many now.

"Eli, would you just wait a moment." He turned sharply to an abandoned space between the old abandoned Skullatla house and another broken building. "I'm sorry—"

"For what?" asked Eli, his voice crisp and sharp, now that he had stopped and was finally alone. He turned to turn his cold gaze onto his uncle. "For dying? For coming to me? Or is it that you regret needing a bastard necromancer's help?"

He still remembered what Killian had called Sylric that night he had been Listening. He still remembered the venom in his voice. His disgust as he spoke the word, necromancer. The other ghosts had quieted their pleas in response to his sudden acknowledgment of Killian. He didn't look to see their faces. His eyes were locked on his uncle.

The uncle who had always treated him as more than just a child. While Leita, Ven, and Rini had been content to climb Killian like their own personal playground, Killian had talked with Eli about the places and people he had seen. His adventures as a mercenary. He would even take the time to teach Eli some tips in fighting that his father had no skill in.

Shame tightened Killian's face as he stared back at him in shock, his green eyes wide. He didn't speak for a moment.

"I'm so sorry, Eli," began Killian slowly, his head hung. "I'm sorry that I have to ask anything of you, like this. After ... what I said. I didn't know—Tori hadn't told me until later—"

"And that made me less of a necromancer then?" Eli shot back, his fists still tight at his sides. "I practically already knew by then, when I heard you talking about Sylric."

That name silenced his uncle for another painful moment, shocked that Eli knew this name, his brows raising higher on his forehead. Still, soon Killian had collected himself again.

"I'm an asshat, I know." Killian nodded to himself, looking down at his feet, eyes heavy with that shame, his voice becoming thicker. "And I can't change what I've said …" He raised his gaze again to press that heavy stare back onto him. "But I still need you, Eli… Khaz."

"Don't call me that." Eli already knew what he wanted, what he needed from him. It was the same thing all the other ones wanted.

"He needs to know," Killian continued urgently like he hadn't said anything. "Please, you need to tell your father that I'm—"

"Dead?" Eli cut him off coldly. "What else? How sorry you are? All your little woes and regrets? Like all the rest of them?"

He gestured to the other dead spirits. He glared at Killian.

"Please," began the spirit of Norn's mother, stepping forward. "Please, we have no one else who can speak for us—"

"Please, Serwen boy, have mercy."

"Please, we need you."

"Please—"

"I never told them how much I loved—"

"You have to tell Norn it wasn't his fault!"

Killian began, "Eli, you know he needs to know—"

"All of you just shut up," Eli hissed.

And then it happened. It was quiet. Killian had stopped instantly in his sentence. It wasn't just him either. Everyone else stopped too. His uncle stared at him in shock, as if he had been stricken.

This wasn't right. Why did they all just stop?

Eli stared at him, waiting for the pleading to start again. But Killian didn't, nor did Norn's sister. He just stared at Eli, as if lost for words, almost just as confused. Eli felt his insides again, finally. They were twisting together because he knew something wasn't right.

"Why won't you say anything?" he asked, barely keeping the tremble out of his voice.

Killian just stared sadly, almost weakly at him. He said nothing.

"Say something," said Eli, starting to hear an urgent plea in his own voice. He took a step toward Killian, his hands lifting up toward him. "You were saying something before—Say it!"

Killian just stared at him, his green eyes like his father's tensing almost painfully.

"All of you—any of you—just saying something!" he called out to them, but they all just stood there, helpless. Even Norn's sister.

Dread filled him, horrifyingly, nauseating dread.

"Why won't you say anything?" he choked at Killian.

Still, nothing. His uncle just stared sadly at him.

Oh Din. He didn't mean to—he hadn't meant to, but he knew what he had done. They weren't speaking because he had commanded them not to.

He had exerted his will over the dead.

He had broken Sheikah law.

"Boy, what are you doing?"

Eli's head snapped up and toward the gap between the houses that lead out to the village's center. Vivian was staring at him; the soft wrinkles from her older age deepened on her forehead.

"Who on earth are you shouting at?" she asked.

Eli glanced at Killian instinctively.

She followed his gaze but only continued to look confused. His dread only grew, gnawing at his belly when her eyes widened with both shock and understanding. Her gaze snapped back to him.

She knew, like Mother and Grandfather had known, because they were experienced mages.

"You!" Her hands whipped in a quick gesture to cast, and Eli felt a pressure clamp close around his throat. His hands went to it but nothing was there. He felt his toes lift from the ground. "You —you're—Of all people …"

Killian and the other ghosts could only watch on, horror mirrored in their own faces. He saw Killian glancing around urgently, as if looking for help, but it wasn't as if he would be able to find it.

Vivian kept her hand raised in front of her. It controlled the force on his throat. She moved it and he floated along with her as she pulled him out of the small alley. It was the same spell his grandfather had used on that Gerudo who had attacked Dad. The pressure wasn't enough to cut off his air completely, but it was far from comforting. Like feeling the sharp prickle of a razor's edge against your skin.

"We'll see what Lady Impa thinks of this! After admonishing me for my vigilance—there's one right under her own nose! And your mother—it all makes sense now!"

Eli let himself go slack, just dangling in the air behind her. The cold part of him reminded him that if he didn't fight her, she wouldn't have any reason to kill him. She would take him to Impa first. He had broken Sheikah law, but he still had to try. Would Impa take mercy on him, since he hadn't meant to? She was reasonable.

"Where is Impa? Find me Lady Impa," she barked to no one in particular.

He was aware of how they—he—drew the eyes of everyone as they passed, the dead and the living gawked. He saw Sheik who only stared in alarm for a moment before disappearing. The cold in him said this was good. He was going to fetch Impa. He saw Willow's shocked face pale in the orange light of the sun set.

"Vivian!" He recognized his father's call. It came from behind him. He couldn't turn to see him.

But he could watch Vivian turn to face him. They were at the top of the steps just in front of the well. Her face was grim as she looked beyond Eli.

"I'm sorry about this, Tori, but it's necessary. I'm pained to inform you that your son is a necromancer."

"I know," came his father's soft voice. It was gentle, as if speaking to a wounded dog. "But please, put him down. He's just a boy. He hasn't done anything—"

Vivian's face hardened against his words. "I'm so sorry for you. Having to keep such a shameful secret like this—"

"Put him down," said Dad again. "We can still talk about this, but you don't need to do this to him. He's just a boy."

"No, he is not," asserted Vivian. "He was never a boy. He—"

"Has never done anything to anyone with death magic." His father's voice cut her off, more forcefully, almost impatiently. "Put him down."

Vivian closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if steeling herself and mustering some kind of saintly patience. She opened them and directed a look of pity at his father behind him.

"I can't do that. I fear you are too weak for this, Tori. You are blinded by sentiment. I must do what you lack the strength for. This is for the good of us all—"

"Put my son down, Vivian."

It was no longer a question or a plea. It was a hard, thick demand. Eli had never heard his father sound like that before. He had never heard his father speak like that to another person.

The ring of steel in the air signaled Dad drawing his sword from his sheathe.

No. Panic rang through Eli. He knew his dad was no warrior. He was a trained soldier, but his heart was not. That was why that Gerudo had almost gotten him back at the lake. Vivian was a skilled mage. His father did not stand a chance, but that wouldn't make him stop like it should.

No.

He watched Vivian's face harden as her lips parted, possibly to cast something at his father.

No.

He couldn't wait for Mother to save them. There was no time.

His will shot out, sinking into the shadows cast by the sun which was almost set. The shadow of the well and nearby buildings were cast over them. He did not need the words or any gesture. Because at that moment he realized that they were already his.

They had always been his.

Darker spots of the shadows bloomed into wisps of black "smoke" or rather it behaved more like ink in water. Tendrils of ink-black shadow formed from these black "clouds" like ethereal plasma, of substance and yet not. They shot out, coiling themselves around Vivian's wrists, yanking them backward as a third tendril forced itself into her mouth and grasped her tongue firmly.

Her focus on the spell that held him snapped. He dropped lithely to his feet and then stood as the shadows dragged Vivian to her knees, reversing their previous positions. She would be doing no casting with her hands and mouth seized. If she had dared to harm his father, he had no quam in ripping that tongue out.

The cold had filled him out, chilling his veins, steadying his heart. Everything was calm and quiet inside him, like a winter night.

Her brown eyes were wide with shock and terror, staring up at him now. Drool trickled from the corners of her mouth as the shadows stuffed inside, coiled around her tongue, did not allow her to swallow. He kept eye contact with her and took a few steps, leaning forward.

"At least," he breathed into her ear, "it wasn't death magic."

It was dead quiet, except for Willow's sniffling in the background.

"Elias."

He turned and found Impa standing next to his father at the bottom of the small stone steps. He was aware of the shocked look on his father's face, but he was still in his cold place. It didn't bother him or shame him.

It just was.

He looked to Impa, who also didn't seem fazed by the current situation. She just stood there with her arms folded across her chest in the same intimidating manner she always did.

"Let her go," said his mentor calmly.

Eli glanced around. He saw warriors around the edges of the crowd with their weapons drawn. He knew the only reason they were not swarming him now was because of Impa—and yes, perhaps the hold he had on Vivian too. All the same, he didn't think it would have been a problem. No, it would only have been the casters he would have needed to be concerned about. He didn't have much experience wielding his shadows. He didn't know what their weaknesses and limitations were yet. He only did this now by instinct.

The only reason he was able to neutralize Vivian was because he caught her by surprise. If he released her like Impa said, she wouldn't be so easily subdued again. He returned his gaze to Impa and walked steadily down the steps. At the bottom, he stood before her and then knelt at her feet, his hands placed on his thighs.

Then his shadows released Vivian.

He heard her gasping and sputtering behind him, but he did not turn to look. The only person who mattered was Impa. He trusted that she would keep Vivian from attacking him or his father. Even if she found him guilty, he knew she would never make his family suffer for his actions.

"He's—he's a—" Vivian stuttered as she got to her feet.

"A necromancer, yes, I know," said Impa, finishing her sentence.

Vivian balked, blinking and huffing still as well as disoriented in more ways than one. "Y-you knew?"

"Of course, I knew, why did you think I wanted to teach him?"

"T-teach?" Vivian still looked disoriented.

"I'm sure many remember that my people, the Sheikah, often had death adepts among them," continued Impa. "It was often how we protected the dead from rogue necromancers as well as protect the others from dead spirits that have become corrupt. Is it so odd I would want to keep this balance alive? Necromancers are a bridge between worlds, Vivian—an important bridge.

"I'll remind you again, and anyone else here, that it is not a crime to simply be a death adept."

"B-but he attacked me," she protested shrielly.

"Actually, I would regard your actions as an initial attack on him prior," said Impa. "His response was self-defense. Eli has done nothing wrong."

"Lady Impa," said Eli, looking up at her calmly. "I have done something, but it wasn't my intention to. I need your help."

"S-see!" exclaimed Vivian belligerently.

"Silence," Impa commanded with a hard edge and Vivian glowered but said no more. She looked back down to Eli at her feet. "What have you done?"

"I've exerted my will over the dead spirits in Kakariko."

He almost thought Vivian would forget Impa's demand for quiet, but she said nothing. He could still almost feel her vindication from behind him. He heard faint inhales and muttering in the crowd nearby, but it was utterly silent otherwise.

"It was an accident," he explained. "I just... wanted them to be quiet."

Vivian was unable to contain herself anymore. She stocked into view, leering down her nose at him. "And how did you learn this magic? Your mother must have been secretly teaching you, dabbling in these vile arts—"

Impa glared piercingly with her red eyes and the mage was silenced.

"My mother taught me no incantations or gestures. I just did it," said Eli.

Vivian snorted, lifting her chin. "That's impossible. No one can cast without an invocation of some sort. Not even your grandfather, Farore rest his soul, was ever able to do so. You had to learn it somewhere."

Eli shook his head. He was always different. It seemed more the rule than the exception for him. The words had even gotten in the way, it seemed, when he had tried to control his shadow during his magic lesson earlier that day.

"I didn't." He looked up into Impa's eyes. "Nevertheless, I am sorry. Please help me reverse it, and then do with me what you deem necessary."

Impa stared into his eyes, for the first time he could have sworn she was surprised. Truly astounded. She searched his eyes like she had never seen him before.

His dad spoke. "Vivian, you just witnessed it yourself. He manipulated the shadows without saying or doing anything."

It was true. She had held him by the throat, so he couldn't speak. His hands had been clearly limp at his sides, so they had not moved.

"No—Don't hurt him!" Leita's shrill cry shuddered the still air as she came running out from the crowd. She flung her arms around him.

A faintly translucent pink bubble formed around them both. It was a mana shield. Leita had been learning to control mana in her lessons, but Eli had no idea she was capable of manifesting a shield already.

"Stay away!" she cried, still pressed against his side, looking up at Impa, silver brows pulled together in a defensive furrow.

"What is this?"

Eli turned his head to see his mother also emerge from the crowd, though it was more like it parted for her as she approached. It might have seemed odd that such a small woman, barely over five feet tall and a hundred pounds, could have such a demanding presence. Yet everyone knew to give Amaya a wide berth when her family was in question.

"What have you done, Amaya?" Vivian demanded, looking over at her accusingly.

Mom raised her brow. Eli was somewhat confused as well. "Speak plainly, Vivian."

"What spirit did you make a pact with in order to birth this—this thing." Vivian looked to Eli again, but it was different this time. Worse than when she had realized he was a necromancer. Her disgust and horror was as if she was looking at some malformed beast.

That cold stare froze over his mother's eyes. "Excuse me?"

"You must have done something," reasoned Vivian. She pointed at Eli. "Because that thing is not human!"

Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths. Yet somehow Eli knew that Mother would not attack Vivian. Not with Impa right there to rein her in.

"Don't be ridiculous." Mom folded her arms over her chest. "I have never made any kind of pact with any kind of spirit in my life. My son is merely different, different but entirely human. Now is there something wrong here?"

Eli reset his gaze upon Impa who returned it.

She sighed heavily. "It's okay, Eli—"

"But he—" Vivian began to protest immediately.

"Be silent, Vivian," commanded Impa, her voice actually raising this time. Her red eyes were actually set in a glower now.

"Do not tell me what I already know," the Sheikah continued. "Yes, he exerted his will over the dead spirits, but his circumstances are unlike any necromancer ever before. Necromancers before him could only break Sheikah Law with a very clear intent to do so because it required an invocation. Eli said it was an accident, and I am inclined to believe him given that he requires no invocation to cast—None of us had any idea that this would happen. I was not able to prepare Eli appropriately to control this power of his. It was an accident."

Impa let another breath pass through her lips, as if letting her anger and impatience pass with it. She looked back down to him.

"As for setting it right, Eli, try again, with intention, to release the spirits from your will."

Eli wasn't sure how exactly. After all, he didn't know how he had done it to begin with. He had tried telling them to speak before and it didn't work like when he had told them to shut up. There was nothing to lose in trying again. He trusted Impa. She was probably the only person outside his family that he knew he could trust.

He took in a breath and looked toward the spirits he could see, over Leita's head, particularly in Killian's direction. His uncle still was not far away.

"Speak freely," said Eli, looking into those green eyes.

He saw his uncle's eyes blink rapidly for a moment, like a wave had passed over him. His lips parted. "Eli, it worked. I'm fine."

The other spirits started chattering as well and Eli let out a breath. He raised his head to stare at Impa in confusion. "It worked."

Impa nodded. "Your head is clearer now than before, am I right? Your magic is still similar enough that casting requires a clear mind in order to focus your mana."

That made sense. He had been upset when he told them all to shut up, but his mind still had been oddly clear. It was only after he realized what he had done that his thoughts had become a jumbled mess. The danger his father had been in had caused another unusually lucid moment for him, and then he was able to control the shadows.

"How do you even know he's telling the truth about it being an accident or that he even truly released them from his will?" demanded Vivian.

Impa slowly turned her head to gaze icly at the older mage once more. "You suggest a Sheikah, a fully initiated elite, is not able to sense when truth is not being spoken?"

Eli heard that some Sheikah were able to sense if you were lying. Vivian flushed, as if this had been an obvious fact she had overlooked. So it seemed the rumors were true.

"How can we know your emotions are not clouding your perceptions—" Vivian began in her own defense only to be cut off by Impa again.

"The last person," began Impa, her voice growing louder only to speak over her, "to question the validity of my insight was King Theodas Nohansen concerning whether or not he should trust Ganondorf Dragmire … So long as I am the one making decisions this time, Vivian, I will not distrust myself."

It was quiet for a spell. The hard and cold earth beneath Eli was starting to make his knees ache.

"Leita, you can let go now," he said, looking down at her, as she was still clinging to him protectively.

She worried her lip, hesitating. She glanced up at Impa.

The Sheikah smiled softly back. "It's fine, Leita. Eli is not going to be punished."

Leita released her bottom lip as well as her mana shield and finally let him go.

Dad dropped his sword to the ground as he rushed forward. His father's arms encircled him, pressing him against his chest, and Eli was lifted from the ground, his head staring over his shoulder.

"Your family may stay in my house tonight," said Impa to Tori.

"Thank you," Dad breathed fervently to her as he swept past, carrying Eli off and away from the crowd that parted for them.

"Dad, I can walk," said Eli. He saw Mom and Leita following them.

But he didn't respond, nor did he set Eli down.

His eyes went to Killian off in the crowd, who watched them go, not following after him this time. Neither did the rest of the spirits. They all just watched him go.

---

It was quiet in Impa's house. Dad had held onto him longer than necessary even when they got inside. Eli let him, though he honestly just wanted to be alone. However, if it comforted his father then he was willing.

He wondered how long they would stay in Impa's house. Eli assumed she had provided this option for them, in order to avoid unpleasantness that was likely to occur when sharing one of the other houses with the rest of the village like they had been before.

Yet, all he wanted to do right then was go outside.

Dad stopped him later when he reached for the door.

"Eli, stay inside—it's not—"

"Let him go, Tori," said Mom. "He needs it."

Dad frowned, hesitating, but then nodded.

It was getting dark now. The sun had set. The air was stingingly cool. Eli closed the door behind himself and looked around. No one was there, though he could see fire pits aglow and the rest of the village off to the right, as Impa's house was tucked in a corner on a hill that overlooked most of the village.

He sighed, trying to collect himself. He didn't feel as steady and clear as he had earlier, but it might still work.

"Killian, are you there?" he asked, trying to put his will behind the words.

"Hey, kiddo."

He turned his head and his uncle was smiling at him, an exhausted and tired smile. It was odd because he was just a spirit with no physical body to wear him down.

Eli stared at him for a moment in the dark, unsure of where to go from here. If he learned anything that day, it was that he could not run from this. He was a death adept. A necromancer. The whole village knew now.

He couldn't run from Killian either.

"I know, I've said this a lot already," began Killian heavily, glancing down, "but I'm sorry. All that back there, it was my fault. I put too much on your shoulders. You're just a boy and my nephew. Uncles are supposed to help you, not hurt you."

"I know, but it's too late now," said Eli with a shrug. "I know you're dead, and Father doesn't. You were right. He needs to know. I just …"

Eli folded his arms across his chest. His hands bunched in fists because his fingers were getting cold. Uncle Killian had always made him feel more like an equal. He was always less patronizing than other adults were. More than that, Killian only did that for him. Leita, Ven, and Rini, Eli noticed that Killian treated them more like kids. He had been different, and he had always appreciated that Killian treated him that way.

That's why Eli didn't want to admit to him that he… was too weak for this. That he was just a child like he said. That he could not bear this burden, this thing that must be done.

He just couldn't—wouldn't see his father's heart broken expression again. He couldn't be the one to bring him that news.

"I don't have much time left," said Killian.

Eli looked up. "What does that mean?"

Killian smiled wearily. "It's not always easy, you know, holding onto this world. Other dead spirits make this look like a piece of cake, but for me it's not. It's taking everything I got to stay here. I'm getting weak. I'll… pass soon."

Eli frowned. Why was it effortless for some spirits but not for others?

"Impa says will is the most important when it comes to dealing with the dead. Is your will not strong enough?" he asked.

Killian shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe it's just my personality. I had things I know I left unfinished. I thought those kinds of regrets would have kept me in this world like I heard it does for other spirits. But, heh, I've always been more detached than other people I guess?" He smiled weakly for a brief moment. "I never liked staying in one place for too long, even if… I had good reasons to stay there. I've always been a selfish bastard like that."

Killian had been holding on all this time, just to find him, so that he could let Dad know he was dead. Soon Killian would leave and it would all be on Eli.

Or maybe …

"Lady Impa told me something interesting," began Eli. "She said some Death adepts could sense spirits so strongly that they felt their emotions almost as if they were theirs, but I wonder if I could take this a step further …"

Killian raised his brow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, perhaps you can tell my father yourself."

---

Tori

The door cracked open, and Tori looked up immediately. Eli's head was peeking around the door, looking for him.

"Oh, hey, can you come talk with me for a moment?" Eli asked.

Tori blinked. There was something different about him. It was hard for him to put his finger on it. It was something in the way his son spoke to him. It seemed off. Tori stood, nodding though confusion and concern sharply piercing through him.

He stepped out the door into the chilly night air. Eli stood before him, his hands resting on the belt of his leggings in a way that was familiar and yet out of place on his son, but most of all, his eyes were wrong.

Those weren't Eli's eyes.

There could never be mistaking his son's eyes. A gaze that was so powerful and unnerving it could make his soul tremble. Though Tori had always done his best to meet Eli's eyes, especially when he knew Eli was feeling more insecure than his self-contained son would ever admit out loud.

But now that power, that impact wasn't there. Those were just regular, dark blue irises gazing almost cautiously at him.

Alarm rang through Tori more than confusion.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his hands fisting at his sides. "What have you done with Eli?"

"Whoa!" the boy raised his hands almost in defense. "Eli is fine. Heh, damn, you're sharp, Tori."

"Who are you?" Tori demanded again. He had half a mind to call Amaya out here. She'd probably have some idea of what was going on. There had to be some magic at work here.

The roguish smile on his son's face faded a little at his harshness. "Come on, Tori. It's me … Killian. I pantsed you in front of our first guard training lineup. Only you know that it was me and Kubera who hid rotting fish in all the gutters of Kakariko and made the village stink for weeks, and I told Amaya you were going to marry a Zora because you love fish so much—not that she believed me, but it was still worth it for the look on her face."

"And," he finished more hesitantly, "you're the only person who knows how I feel about Ceres Kali."

Tori stared. In a way, Eli now reminded him more of Killian when they were boys, standing there like that. But how could his son possibly be Killian right now? A painful twinge pinged in his heart, which seemed to catch on quicker than his mind.

"I'm sorry, Tori." That smile became apologetically sad, seeming to already see that knowledge starting to dawn on him. "I died."

Tori inhaled softly. The thing he had been fearing for weeks now. He had both started losing hope when Eli told him about Kubera but tried to cling harder to the idea his brother at least would return.

The boy's face, now Killian's, became heavier with guilt and shame. An expression so foreign to him on that face, because he never really saw his son wear it before. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier too. It was really my fault. I pushed Eli too hard, trying to get him to tell you about me. It was my fault he broke Sheikah law."

Tori's mind raced back, remembering Eli's words to Impa. "I just… wanted them to be quiet."

Oh, Farore. Eli had known.

His insides were still reeling. His vision was blurring as his eyes burned. An ache blossomed in his throat as it began to constrict on itself. He wouldn't have been able to speak even if he had known what to say. His hands felt numb at his sides.

"Don't worry. I didn't suffer much," continued Killian gently through Eli's voice. "I also don't regret it one bit. I would have done it all the same, even if I had another chance."

Tori covered his mouth. His vision blurred completely now.

"Oh, so Elias came back from the dead just to save your ass from a Gerudo? Heh, man, who knew." The little chuckle snorted through his nose. "Eli said that the old man said he was sorry … Funny thing, I was caught in an ambush back during the first attacks, and I coulda sworn I saw him for a moment. I was also sure I should have been hit by an arrow, but …"

Tori was sagging to his knees now, his shoulders shaking with his sobs muffled by his hand.

"You know, I hated it when you gave Eli his name," Killian continued. "I thought it was stupid. Didn't think that old bastard deserved anything like that. I let it go at first, because it was only his middle name, but then the little brat wouldn't answer to anything else. Heh, the glare he'd give me when I kept trying to call him Khaz …"

He could see Killian smile, hear it through those words, though he couldn't see through his tears as the sobs gasped, squeezed out of his throat and mouth.

"It wasn't just that either. He was—He reminded me of our dad, as he grew up, started acting all older than his years, and it… freaked me out at first, but then I loved the little shit, and I wondered if Dad could have been like this if—I dunno, our old man never talked about his own folks much. He never talked about anything except magic …"

"Anyway, don't worry about Eli. He'll be fine, because he's being raised by you."

"B-but I—" Tori finally choked, looking up at him. His hands falling limply into his lap and then tightening again. His teeth clenched against another sob threatening to come out for a moment before he managed to swallow it. "T-there's so much about him I won't ever be able to understand."

He was talking to his dead brother through his son right now. He could barely handle or understand this.

"How—how am I supposed to help him?"

He felt so helpless with everything that his son was facing now. The powers he had, how their community would reject him, and how he was still afraid of that power himself. He didn't want to lose Eli to it. He didn't want to lose anyone to anything anymore, but he felt helpless in this war. He wasn't a strong warrior. He didn't have magic. He wasn't good for much of anything.

Eli's face smiled softly.

"You don't have to understand everything about him," he answered with a shake of his head. "He has Amaya and Impa to help him figure out all the necromancer and magic stuff. You just need to help him with the other stuff. The heart stuff."

Eli's shoulders shrugged. "Maybe that's why our dad was the way he was. Sure, he was a prodigy in every other way, but maybe someone had failed him with the more important things."

But then those dark eyes locked back into his firmly, almost urgently.

"Don't let Eli isolate himself, Tori. I know it's going to be hard for him, now that everyone knows what he is. But that's why it's more important than ever—don't hide your tears from him." He reached out and touched Tori's cheek, wet with said tears. "Show him that it's okay to be open—that it's okay to be vulnerable. Because that's what makes you stronger than me or Dad or Slyric. You were always able to do that so easily. Eli won't become a monster like Slyric, because he has you."

Tori inhaled heavily, shakily, his tears wearing him out, touching the hand that held his face, holding it there. He stared at Killian—or his son—it was so confusing, but with his vision blurred, it was like he was staring at an eleven-year-old Killian.

But soon that smaller hand slipped out from under his, his brother letting out a sigh. "I have to go, Tori … I'm spent. I can't hold onto this world any longer."

Tori sucked in a sharp breath as a sob nearly choked him again.

"I love you, brother. It'll be okay."

"I—I know," choked Tori, more hot tears squeezing out of his eyes as he pinched them closed. "I love you too."

"Ventus," Killian suddenly said, as if a thought just occurred to him, making Tori look up at him again. But Killian's gaze in Eli's eyes were already starting to fade, making him seem as if in a daze.

"If you see him, tell him it wasn't his fault because it was my choice. No one else can claim that burden for me. Tell him I would do it all again if I could."

"Ventus? He—are Cere and them still alive?" Tori asked quickly, standing up and reaching for him. But he saw Eli's body shudder and sagg. He fell forward into his arms. "Killian? Eli?"

---

Eli

Terrible, sharp and burning pain crawled and throbbed through his insides. His hands pressed to his middle, where he felt the warm and sticky blood seep through his fingers. He raised his head up to stare with blurring vision at the tall Gerudo woman that stood in front of him with a bloodied scimitar.

He could hear his own pained and ragged breathing. He could also hear that wailing cry of a little girl—Rini. He heard a young boy yelling and cursing for the village people to get out of his way—Ventus.

"Killian!" a woman shrieked—he could hear Ceres still through the wall of Gerudo warriors that had surrounded him.

The tall one in front of him gestured to the others and they fell back. His head sagged for a moment, watching the red bleed into his tunic and leggings, staining his hands. He panted through the pain that blinded him. He lifted his head but didn't turn to look at Ceres.

"Ceres." His voice was thick with his pain, but it grew louder so that she could hear him. "I always loved you."

"K-Killian …" The woman's voice choked.

The Gerudo said something else, but words seemed to warble together.

Everything went dark.

Then Ceres was standing in front of him. Her expression pained as she clutched the shawl around her shoulders. The trees bare and the ground littered with their scattered brown and yellow leaves.

"... My eyes are cursed, remember?" she said softly.

Then he saw Ventus, standing in that same spot. His eyes were raw and pained like his mother's had been. He watched him sag down and wrap his arms around his knees. His shoulders were shaking with sorrow.

"I'm sorry … I'm so sorry," the boy sobbed.

---

Eli's eyes snapped open. The ghost of light seeped through the crack of the house's door, telling him it was morning. After all, it wasn't as if Din would keep her eye closed just because everyone had found out he was a necromancer yesterday. He sat up, seeing that his family was still asleep. Leita was curled up in his bedding, the edge of his tunic still fisted in a tiny hand.

His mind turned to what he had just dreamed. Had it been a dream or a vision he saw while Uncle Killian had possessed him? He would have to ask Impa about it.

He got up carefully, gently pulled his tunic out of his sister's hand, and laid his blanket back over Leita's shoulders. He stood there, thinking about what to do next. Soon his feet were carrying him out the door. He didn't feel like letting Dad fret over him. Besides, after last night, that was the last thing he needed.

He headed for the clearing where his group always met for morning workout.

He was perfectly aware of what kinds of greetings he would be receiving from his peers. They hadn't liked him much before, and now it would be worse.

And that was fine. It didn't matter.

These people never mattered. Impa would never kick him out for something as simple as an honest accident, and she would never make his family suffer for it like he had so feared since he heard what happened to Ceres and her children.

After what happened with Vivian, his father, and his shadows, Eli knew it didn't matter. These people and their petty, insignificant fears—the illusions of their own making that they wove over him—none of them mattered.

There was only one thing that mattered. Eli needed to train, to hone his skills. He had to become as powerful as he possibly could be with everything he had. Because he had to make sure his family came out of this war intact. Alive and as happy as they could possibly be.

He remembered something that Impa had told him and Sheik about truth and lies.

"People will believe a lie either because they are afraid it is true or because they wish it is."

He let himself panic too easily yesterday when he had accidentally broken Sheikah law. If he had stayed calm, he could have fixed it as easily as he had done it. Impa said it was because he had a calm mind to cast. He had let his fears blind him to what was true.

Eli wouldn't let himself make that same mistake again. If he wanted to be successful, to be effective, he would need to be in control of himself completely. He could not let fear or desire drive his decisions in the future.

When the other children started trickling in, they spotted him, blanched and almost scurried away. Their faces were full of hate and disgust.

Eli sat on the steps in front of the town well, just watching them.

None of them were brave enough to approach him. They all huddled in a group at a safe distance from him. He could hear all their spiteful mutterings, of course.

Aya was the only one who glared directly at him. He noticed Willow stood close to her now, not looking at him but still glaring at the ground. Norn just didn't look at him. Tad went and stood next to Aya, like they were going to protect the rest of the scared children from him.

Eventually, Leita arrived and sat with him on the steps. Her expression was sad and wilted.

More surprising was when Sheik arrived with Impa. He paused, glancing around at the group that bunched together and then to Eli and Leita on the steps. Then he walked over and sat on Eli's other side. He glanced over at Sheik, staring at him curiously, but then he stared forward again.

Of course, Sheik was in training as a Sheikah like he was. He would not fall so easily to the fear of shadow like all the others did.

Then Darius Binks came running up in his creepy, wooden mask. Some of the children called out, almost as if afraid Eli would bite him or something. Darius stopped right in front of Eli and pulled his mask up to beam at him.

"You're so amaziiiing!" he squealed. "I knew it—I knew there was something so creepy about you! You're scarier than Dampe!"

Eli raised one brow at Darius Binks. The boy said all this like it was a compliment. Binks took a seat at the step below Eli.

Impa stood in between these groups, a stern frown forming her lips in a line and furrowing her brow. She placed her hands on her hips and called, "What are you all standing around for? Get into your lines!"

Leita, Sheik, and Binks stayed with Eli, filling the spaces when his peers were too afraid to be next to him or work with him in pairs. He wasn't sure how he felt about Sheik and Darius at first. Though he knew, if they had chosen to stand with the other children, he wouldn't really have cared. It didn't matter.

He would have moved forward with or without their support.

After the morning conditioning session and self-defense lesson, it was weapons training with Jaelic again.

The knight noticed the bunching of the children again. The majority bunched away from Eli, who had Leita, Sheik, and Binks with him. A sneer rippled his lips as he looked around.

"Well, well, well …" He looked around at them all with his own gray eye. He sniggered at the larger group in particular. "Come on, now, kiddos. Let's play nice, eh?"

Tad snorted, folding his arms over his chest. "You want us to play nice with that... monster? He's no better than Ganondorf—After all, Ganondorf also was able to do magic shit no one else is supposed to be able to, right?"

Jaelic shrugged, twisting the cap off his flask. "I guess so, but if you ask me, we need a monster on our side, if we want to beat the other monster, right?"

He took a drink and swallowed. He looked more pointedly at Tad. "Besides, war makes monsters of us all, you twat. You best just be careful of what kind of monster you choose to be."

Eli stared at Jaelic for a moment. He decided finally that he had a competent teacher. Jaelic was not a pleasant person, but often what you needed was not always pleasant. He agreed with Jaelic.

Perhaps, he was a monster. Perhaps not.

He would happily become whatever monster he needed to be in order to see his family through this war.

---

The day came and went. Before Eli knew it, he was up in Impa's house again, eating a private dinner with Sheik, Impa, and his family. Dad and Mom had still gone down to help out with dinner for the rest of the village. Leita had stayed with him, though all they did was read books in silence with Sheik. Their parents had brought dinner back upon their return.

Eli knew this had to be harder on Dad. Because he knew how social his father was. Dad liked people. He liked talking and being with them. People had always seemed to like his father in return. No one had ever said a bad word about him. But now, Eli was sure, his father would not be so well received. Because now he was not just the son of Elias Serwen, the hero. He was the father of a necromancer, a monster.

But still, he knew Dad would go and help out with the village, despite whatever cold shoulder or harsh words he would receive. He knew Mom simply went with him as support. After all, no one dared say a bad word to anyone in Amaya's family in front of her.

They ate their meal mostly in silence. Eli was clearing the table and fixing to help Leita wash the dishes when there was a knock at the door. He glanced at it as Sheik went and answered it.

It was silent for a moment, and then Eli heard a voice.

"I—um … is—I need to …" His voice got even quieter. "I need to speak to—to Eli please."

Eli turned and looked at the door, Sheik turning to look at him in turn. His father looked up in shock. He set his dish back down in the soapy water, drying his hands off with a cloth as he headed over to the door.

Standing in the darkness of the night was Norn. His pale blue eyes were cast down under his shaggy, dirty blond hair. He glanced up at Eli briefly but quickly stared at his feet. His arms wrapped around himself. His face had that worn and exhausted look to it. Eli supposed anyone who cried every night might look the same.

Eli said nothing. He just stood in the doorway and waited, waiting to know what Norn Salzo could possibly want from him.

It was dead quiet for what seemed like a whole minute before Norn spoke again.

"You—you can speak to the dead, right?" Norn asked softly, still not looking up at Eli.

"Yes," he answered and waited again.

Norn swallowed. "Can you—can you speak to them for me?"

Eli stared impassively at Norn for a moment. The cold fall air nipped at his nose and slightly damp hands.

Norn hadn't muttered spiteful things or glared at him like all the other children did, but he also hadn't stood with Eli like Sheik and Binks had. He had still chosen to stand with Tad, Willow, and Aya.

But that didn't matter either. He had a feeling he would never see the last of Norn's twin sister if he turned him down now. Perhaps his parents would give up and pass on one day, but Eli could just feel it in his gut. His sister would never let it go, and she would pester him to the end of his days.

There was nothing he would be able to do to make her stop either. Not anything that wouldn't break Sheikah law. After all, so long as she didn't do any real harm to him, Eli had no right to exert his will against her.

So there was only one thing he could do, to have any kind of semblance of peace with the spirits who would always come to him asking, begging, pleading for his help.

Eli turned and looked to Impa, who nodded her permission.

"Come inside," he said, turning to let Norn in.

He wasn't doing it for Norn, not even with the knowledge that the boy cried himself to sleep every night after the loss of his family. Eli was doing this for himself. He would never be rid of the ghosts who would ask him for help. However, he would cooperate with their wishes, but only if their living family members and friends were willing to seek Eli out themselves. There was no point in trying to force his company and assistance on people who didn't want it, but if they did, he would be here.

Even if it wasn't something he wanted to do, it was something he would have to do.

Because he was a necromancer.