Re-upload after this was uploaded too early. That's incredibly embarrassing I'm so sorry lol.
If you read this on its original upload, make sure you read the previous chapter, which has been updated to its correct version. Things should make a lot more sense now...

Thanks for the love and support over the years!

Chapter 15 - Stranger Things

"You there!"

Link froze, and Midna became one with the shadows in a heartbeat. They had been traveling through the mines for quite a long time, now, getting lost and turned around in numerous dead-end tunnels. Hours - maybe even a full day - had been wasted in these corridors. There had been no signs of anyone since he'd encountered one of the elders near the mine entrance, where he'd been given a piece of the dungeon key that held their rampaging patriarch.

To hear a voice calling out to him in this dead place - a voice so scratchy and high-pitched - made the hair on the back of Link's neck stand. He scanned the cavern around him, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The floor of the cavern was quite flat, creating little hiding places of note. A few metal beams were slanted against one wall, providing support to a lower area of the roof. Decorative pots lined this wall, as they did throughout most of the mining network, though their purpose was lost on Link. An obligatory lava pool burbled in the center of the room. One of the pots shook, but otherwise there was no movement, no obvious sign of the–

That pot just moved. Link straightened slightly, his eyes fixated on the wiggling vase. Something chattered from within. "Don't just stand there, help me!"

Midna's head reappeared from Link's ever-present shadow. Her bright yellow gaze held curiosity, but she dared not approach the source of the voice. "Well? You're in the business of helping, aren't you?"

Link rolled his eyes. Dammit, I am. He withdrew his sword and knelt down to peer into the shaking ceramic.

A bald head was stuck in the mouth of the vase. Frowning, Link struck the pot with the pommel of his sword. Out from the explosion of shards came one of the more unique creatures Link had ever seen.

The being stood only a few feet tall, and its body resembled a yellow-feathered cuccoo… To some degree. Most unfortunately, the creature seemed to have mutated to grow a more human-like head at the end of a long, tapering neck that seemed far too thin and was covered in strange folds. The creature's pupil-less eyes seemed to stare into his soul. Link shuddered.

"Oh, gracious, once I got in there, I couldn't squeeze back out! Thanks!" The bird-creature hopped about, stretching its feathers. It spoke fluent Hyrulean, yet had an accent that was as foreign to Link as most everything else in Hyrule.

Still, something told him this…thing was not from this kingdom. "Why were you–"

"I've been looking for something, you see. Much like you, it seems!" She squawked.

"Right… Who exactly are you? And… sorry, but what exactly are you?" Link knelt to the ground before the creature.

"Oh, yes, you may call me Oocoo!'' The creature's multiple sets of neck-folds opened as it trilled its name, and Link immediately wished he had not gotten so close. It was grotesque to behold. Still, strange as it was, Ooccoo did not seem to be a threat. "And I am an adventurer, just like you!"

"Well, you are correct. I am looking for something. Are you familiar with this place?"

"Nope!" The hero sighed at this response. "But if you would not mind, we could work together for a while! You are a fellow adventurer, are you not?"

He considered the creature. Ooccoo seemed to pose little threat, sure, but Link had assumed Isha was relatively harmless. Link had assumed Midna was fairly harmless, at least to him. Look where that got me.

"I know I do not look like much, but I can be quite helpful! Did you know I am capable of teleportation magic? I cannot do it often without rest, but I would be happy to offer my talents in exchange for an escort!"

"Would you be able to send me to Zora's Domain?" he asked hopefully. "Not now, but when we are finished."

"My, my, that's quite a distance, young man!" Ooccoo trilled again. "I'm afraid I'm not able to do that in my current state. Nope! But I can send you quite a distance! Perhaps from here to the northern plains of Hyrule, even!"

Link made a mental note to check a map later. The trade routes between the Domain and Castle Town were all northbound, weren't they? If so, it would be better than traveling the entire distance himself. "Well, as long as you promise to stay out of the–"

Ooccoo alighted upon the Hero's shoulder. "Fear not, fellow adventurer! I am quite good at avoiding trouble!"

"Just not avoiding pots, hm?" He continued on, taking careful steps around steam vents and molten cracks.

Another trill from Ooccoo. Was that how these creatures laughed? "At some point, I may need to leave you behind, at least for a little while." His tone became more serious. "Evil things are lurking in these mines, and I'd rather not put you at risk. No offense, but I do seem to be better equipped to deal with monsters."

"Oh, that is precisely why I want to join you!" replied the bird-person. "I never was much of a fighter, you know? Bit difficult to wield a weapon with wings!"

Chatty, but it's better than being chastised all the time, Link thought as Ooccoo continued on, talking about other adventurers they had seen in their travels. He could feel Midna's gaze sending daggers his way, half-expecting her to fry their new companion at any moment. In the gaps between Ooccoo's words, he could almost make out Midna's curses.

"Insufferable, soft-hearted peasant."


The Postman, ever defying all known laws of travel and human capability, ran hundreds of miles through the night to deliver a letter of utmost importance. He did not have any name other than The Postman, for he had shed such frivolous things long ago. The unnecessary weight would slow him down, and he could not have that. Anything that did not benefit his one goal and passion in life was seen as extra weight, and therefore he would not carry it.

He was Hyrule's best mail carrier for a reason.

The sunrise upon his back, The Postman arrived at the northern trailhead leading into Zora's Domain. A single guard was posted this morning, her halberd gleaming with morning dew. It was incredibly humid out here, a welcome change from the frozen wasteland it had been only days prior. The Postman tipped his hat. Even as he remained in one place, he still jogged. He would not rest until his job was completed.

And oh, what an important job this was.

"I carry an urgent letter intended for Captain Peras and his squad. It is regarding your Prince! He lives on!"

From behind her fish-shaped helm, the soldier's dark eyes widened. She pointed him up the trail, and The Postman continued onwards. As he passed, he heard the soldier issue a quiet prayer of thanks.

Jobs like this filled him with joy, and they were painfully few and far between nowadays. Hyrule was undergoing a crisis unlike anything most had ever seen. The letters he was usually tasked with carrying ranged from pessimistic to downright depressing. Death notices. Missing person reports. Pleadings from decimated settlements for Crisis Response Teams and armed men. Obituaries. Appeals to the Hylian Royal Family, which always went unanswered.

None had heard from the Royal Family since the Shadow Beasts arrived. The Princess was occasionally spotted through the darkened windows of the castle, but aside from a few empty words delivered via the guards who stood outside the locked castle gates, her presence was hardly noticed.

The citizens of Hyrule had an idea of their situation, but none could see the whole picture quite like The Postman did. They didn't know just how far these horrors stretched. But he understood all too well, given he was the number one choice for any sort of urgent message delivery.

His breathing quickened, the path ahead becoming steeper. Not long now. He would soon be delivering some of the best news he'd delivered in a long time.

"Postman! You have news of our Prince?" A strong voice called from further up the path, one that he recognized from previous deliveries.

News does travel fast among these Zora. There were things even he could not outrun. Gossip was certainly one of them. He lifted an envelope high. "I bring a letter addressed from a young lady named Isha, from–"

The letter was all but ripped out of his hand by a second Zora, who approached silently from behind The Postman. Instead of jogging in place, The Postman allowed himself to rest. His mission was complete the moment they accepted the letter.

Still, he wanted to see their reactions. He had not been privy to a celebration of happy news for quite a while. He had earned this small moment of respite.

"Unless you plan to read that aloud to us, you better give it over to me," the green-scaled captain named Peras said.

The dark blue Zora looked up from the letter with an annoyed gaze, but he surrendered the paper to his superior without a word.

Peras began to read the letter aloud. From around the corner, a third Zora joined them, this one a light blue. The Postman watched as their morning grogginess was replaced with excitement and relief at the words Peras read.

"I always did like Telma," the lighter Zora commented, eyes sparkling. The Postman recognized this one, too: a spear warrior named Zepin. "Any woman who can play a piano like she can is a good one."

Peras rolled his eyes. "Yes, we know, you're quite the expert on bar women. This is excellent news, gentlemen. We can disband the search parties and focus entirely on rebuilding efforts! And it seems we shall be reunited with our little survivor sooner rather than later!"

The Zora captain turned to his silent companion "Mikas! What are you waiting for, you fool? Where's that notebook of yours?"

Irritation flashed in the darker Zora's eyes, but he reached into the pack strung about his hip without delay. In fact, his movements were almost hurried. He turned to a blank page and immediately began writing. The Postman watched this male with amused interest when he noticed the slight shake of his hands. Nerves?

The Postman had not had the chance to meet the sender of this letter, and knew very little of her, aside from the fact that she was a younger Hylian woman, a survivor of the Kakariko disaster. From the sounds of things, her rest was well-deserved, and he was not insulted that the sender of such an important letter did not speak with him directly.

Telma had covered the letter's delivery fees and given the instructions, anyways. The letter certainly made this Isha sound like an impressive body guard, if it were to be believed. Still, he felt the sender's potential strength was not the reason for the Zora's unsteady hand.

The corner of his mouth twitched, but he said nothing. He was just here to deliver letters. Nothing more, nothing less. Still, it was fun to speculate. Fun to distract the mind with the happier moments in others' lives. The happy moments kept him light. When would he have the chance to deliver happy news again?

"While he drafts that letter, might we offer you some breakfast, Postman?" Captain Peras extended a webbed hand to the courier.

The Postman had listened to his stomach for the last four hours. He was also grateful, for his mind was beginning to stray near the negative, and this Zora had swiftly cut him off. Food would be good for him, after such a long run. "I would like that a lot, Captain."


Isha was all too aware of the many eyes that fixed upon her as she strode into a public training arena, wearing a new outfit and feeling quite out of place. She had just purchased a casual outfit, a simple long-sleeved shirt dyed a light pink with a brown vest that matched her new leather boots. Her shirt extended to mid-thigh, and underneath she wore a new pair of wool tights - perfect for the chilly days ahead. She'd also taken a good, long soak in the tub that morning, leaving her looking and feeling quite fresh. Her long hair was pulled up into a tight bun and secured with as many hairpins as she could locate.

In this training arena, she might have been the only one present without a rip in her clothing or a shred of blood upon her skin. It was, after all, an incredibly popular one-on-one training arena - which was exactly why she asked about it. Isha had spent all her life shooting at imaginary targets. Her time facing monsters was enough to remind her of a very valuable bit of advice from her father: there is no teacher quite like experience.

Isha withdrew her new staff from its holster on her back and twirled it in her hand. Her eyes darted around the room, inviting anyone to challenge. Of the many gathered there that day - mostly soldiers in plainclothes - none seemed eager to waste their time with the young woman.

She plunged the butt of the staff into the soft ground and began to stretch. I guess I just go up and talk to someone? But how would I know if they'd be any sort of match…

Someone was approaching her. A tall figure dressed in quite ornate mail approached her. Long dark hair poked out from underneath a gleaming helm. A thin sword hung at the soldier's hips.

"You lost, yeah?" came a low, feminine voice.

Isha cocked her head. "No, I'm hoping to train while I'm in town. Are you volunteering to be my first victory?"

The individual laughed and withdrew their sword. "I hope you aren't underestimating me."

"I should say the same to you," Isha scoffed and pulled her staff from the sand. "Red pants? Is that to hide the blood?"

"My father's colors, actually." The figure lifted their helm revealing scarlet eyes beneath long, blunt-edge bangs. "Name's Ashei."

"I'm Isha." They made their way over to an open spot in the arena, replacing another fight that had just ended. "Your father teach you to fight?" A grin was spreading across her lips. This may have been a good decision after all.

Ashei lunged, and Isha raised the hilt of her staff to meet the sword strike. The two weapons collided with a dull thud, and Isha's arms shook with impact. She kept her feet steady, pushing back against her opponent. "He did, yeah. Used to be a Knight, determined to raise his daughter to be the same. What about you? Did you watch a street performance once?"

Isha scoffed. She shifted her weight, knocking Ashei off balance for just a second. It was just enough to sweep at her guarded legs. "Actually, similar story," she shouted over the clanging that resulted from their contact. "My father, also a Knight."

Isha twisted as the hilt of Ashei's sword came barrelling towards her shoulder. Her knuckles still made contact, but Isha ignored the small ache. "You've got the reflexes," the dark-haired woman kicked at the staff at her shin. Isha's arms rattled, and she fumbled the weapon. "Bit rough on the form, though."

Isha stumbled back, slipping her hands further down the hilt of her spear. "Forgive me, I'm a bit rusty," she growled. Left foot forward. Feign a thrust. They swerved right, spin left. Hand on the ground, get that leverage…

Her staff swept in a wide arc, the tip falling behind Ashei's heels. Isha spun on her out-stretched hand, the sand scratching her palms. She dug her nails and pivoted, pulling the staff back towards her and sweeping Ashei off their feet. Armor clanged as the woman tumbled, and Isha brought her other foot forward, completing a full spin - for added flair, of course - and pointing the tip of her staff in the face of her opponent.

Isha's green eyes narrowed. "Come on, now. Are you really letting me win that easily?"

"Consider it a favor, one woman to another. Should get yourself a few eager challengers now, yeah?" Ashei said, shoving aside the weapon still aimed at her face. She tilted her head off to their right, gesturing to another who was approaching them - a male Hylian with dark skin and hair of deep gold, dressed in plainclothes. Isha grinned and extended a hand to Ashei.

"Hm, now I suppose I'll have to return that favor. I'm not from here-"

"That's quite obvious," Ashei laughed with a pointed once-over.

"-and I would love a guide in the city. I'll treat you to lunch, you show me around? I'm staying at Telma's for the next few days, but I'm really not sure where everything is."

The new challenger had drawn near, but Isha held up a finger to signal for him to wait his turn. Ashei tapped the broadside of her sword gently against Isha's arm. "I'm afraid I can't do lunch, but I was plannin' on going by Telma's this evening. See you then, yeah?" The warrior strode off without waiting for an answer.

Isha grinned and turned back to her new challenger. He wielded a spear, whose tip was wrapped to prevent injury. He rolled his large shoulders. "Name's Teb. Interested in exchanging pointers?"

"Isha. Show me what you know, Teb."


Isha awoke late in the evening, her afternoon nap having turned into quite the slumber. She supposed it was due to the red potion she'd downed on her way back from the arena.

Her ankle, which she'd twisted in one of her later fights, still throbbed a little, but when she threw back her sheets she could clearly see that the swelling had gone down. She massaged the area for good measure, and noted that none of her other muscles seemed to ache any more than usual.

Isha felt her lips spread into a grin, one she'd worn all the way back to the bar. Sparring with so many different people, with different weapons, had been an amazing experience. None were quite so eager to chat as Ashei had been, but that was all the better for Isha. She found it much more engaging to simply fight, even though she'd lost most of her matches. The young woman felt she'd learned a lot just from her few hours spent there.

Ashei. Another daughter of a soldier, trained in his ways. Just like her. The thought intrigued and excited Isha, and she found herself eager to see the woman again.

She glanced at the table in her room, and the makeup pouch she'd thrown atop it. Sure, makeup wasn't entirely practical for traveling, but there were times when she'd be glad to have it along.

Like meeting up at a bar with a fascinating new friend.

Isha took her time applying the cosmetics, relishing in the luxury of having the time to care about her appearance once more. When will I have time like this again? She couldn't help but wonder. The Lakebed Temple lurked in the darkness of her mind.

I don't even know if I'll be allowed access, she reminded herself. No need to worry about things I can't control...

By the time she exited her room, Isha could already hear a soft murmur coming from down the hallway, indicating that the night was already in full-swing. She forced herself to walk at a controlled pace, not too eager. She was not about to burst into a bar like a giddy child and embarrass herself, even if she wouldn't know a single one of the people gathered there, and they were unlikely to look her way, anyways.

And oh, were there so many people already gathered.

The young woman's breath caught in her throat as she took in the numbers. Most of the tables were already crowded with people laughing and drinking. A few women dressed in short tunics with bare legs and lifted-platform shoes slithered through the crowd, their hands full of drink trays. Isha smoothed her hands over the dull gray blouse she'd tucked into her black trousers, feeling a bit underdressed in comparison.

She shook her head. You're not part of the staff, you have no such obligations to dress up. Her day clothes were just fine.

The serving bar was just as crowded as the rest of the tavern, though Isha could easily see Telma's bright red hair bobbing around behind the bar, engaging with customers and happily taking their coin. Steeling herself for the inevitable unwanted contact, Isha began to push her way past the others. She took steady breaths, forcing her legs to carry her forward even when she was shoved about. They don't mean it, it's nothing personal, don't freeze up here, you'll make things worse…

She made it to the crowd at the bar without incident, but now faced a new problem: getting Telma's attention amongst the noise. She kept her eyes fixated on the flashes of red, signaling her goal, her safe space in this cramped place. An arm jabbed her weaker side, and she whipped around to face that person. No sooner did she turn than another individual stepped on her foot, making her reel back in pain. So many bodies, so much heat… If she could just manage to make it to a barstool without being trampled…

A hand fell roughly on her shoulder, pulling Isha to the side before she could process the sudden grasp. Her hip slammed into the side of a padded wooden stool, which her assailant caught with a thick, black boot before it toppled over. A panicked yip escaped her tightening throat, but she quickly found that no bodies pushed into her any more. She had been pulled into a beautiful bubble of personal space... save for the hand that still gripped her shoulder tightly. She gazed at that hand, covered in black leather gloves. Her eyes traveled up the length of a well-muscled arm - also clad in black - to the dark silhouette that seemed to have somehow secured a spot alone, unbothered, at the far end of the bar. When did I get all the way over here?

The individual had a masculine, hulking form that seemed too small for the stool he sat upon. He rested with one elbow lazily draped against the countertop, his face shrouded with a dark, cowled hood. As Isha took him in fully, she noticed he had covered every bit of himself in black. Piercing eyes glowered at her from beneath the shadow of his hood, but any other defining features were well-hidden in shadow.

Isha blinked at the stranger, realizing that it wasn't just that he was sitting alone, but the others were avoiding him. Something about this stranger made her feel wrong. Anyone trying to hide themselves in such a way could not be anything but wrong.

She tried to take a step back, but his grip remained firm. Threatening.

The man slowly sat up and gestured to the empty stool she'd bumped into. What could he possibly do in such a busy place? She tried to calm herself. Just see what he wants. Maybe you can get Telma's attention from here.

Isha glanced over her shoulder, but she couldn't see the barkeep from this angle. Too many people, their backs all facing her. No one looked in their direction.

Nobody saw how terrified this man made her feel.

"Won't you come keep a lonely man company? It'll only be for a few moments." His voice was husky, deep, and dripping with painted-on charm. Isha had never felt so cold.

He finally released her shoulder once she'd settled upon the empty stool. She did not look at the man again, and instead stared straight ahead at the wine rack mounted on the wall. It was suddenly quite interesting.

"What is your name?"

His voice was terrifying, yet she nearly felt compelled to answer. "Should I offer such information to a man not even willing to show his face?" Isha's voice was steadier than she'd thought possible. Perhaps she was going into that pre-death shock again.

He rumbled with a low laugh and leaned a little closer to her. "A smart girl. Your parents must be so proud of the little warrior they raised. Or, perhaps only one of them would be. How difficult it must be to have your dreams crushed before they're ever truly realized…"

Frozen nerves turned to steel and despite her misgivings, Isha whirled around to glare at the stranger for daring to mock her. She held his terrifying gaze, and somehow she knew he was grinning at her beneath his cowl. She denied him the pleasure of a response.

"A fierce look, as any warrior should have," he purred. "Tell me, do you know anything of Hyrule's state? Surely, a woman of your experience would have run into some sort of interesting news. Perhaps regarding monarchs? Spiritual beings? Or perhaps, more accurately, news of their absence?"

He's asking all the right questions. Isha could practically hear warning sirens in her head. Whatever this man was - assuming he was just a man - he knew things he shouldn't. Something in her gut told her not to give him anything else to work with.

"You assume much," she replied. "What makes you think I would know such things? I am just a traveler. I am not from here."

"Hylian deities are such interesting characters, are they not?" He continued on, as though he had not heard her. "They are worshiped so by the common people, yet do not hesitate to use their followers as sacrifices and pawns for their own gain. Mortals still revere them, still see them as something to be respected. Do you know why that is? Are we all so brainwashed to assume that, just because one has power, they should not be questioned, and given all that they request? Oh, what it must be like to be in such a position…"

"What do you want from me?" her voice finally shook, betraying her terror. "Why did you want for my attention? Who are you?"

"You looked like you might faint, dear girl," he cooed. He raised a hand to caress her cheek, an action that left Isha paralyzed. His hand dropped to her chin, lingering a moment before falling into his lap. "What sort of man would I be, to leave a damsel to succumb to such distress?"

Ew, ew, ew. Cold sweat formed along the back of Isha's neck, but her body refused to move. It was as though he was still holding her in place. "Who are you?" she asked again.

"Someone who thinks in remarkably similar ways to you. Someone who finds you rather interesting." He leaned in close.

Move, please, Isha begged herself, yet her body would not respond. His face was too close to hers. How did nobody notice or care that she was visibly uncomfortable with this man's advances? How had Telma not yet seen her, and rushed to her aid?

"It would do you well to return home, to forget all that you have witnessed. The gods have no time or care for a mortal like you. It is so rare that one of you refuses them, resists the power of the gods. You should use what little sense you have left and turn back now. You cannot stop what is to come, but you can savor your final days in this shattered kingdom. Perhaps the next ruler will look upon you with pity."

"Who are you?" It was a pathetic question, one that barely squeaked out of her, but Isha could not find any other words. They ran from her, just as she should run from this man. This…

"I am of no consequence, should you heed my warnings." Finally, mercifully, he pulled back from her. She blinked, trying to control her breathing, trying not to show this man just how utterly terrifying he was. Something deep inside Isha told her that she could not crumble before this monster. She could not show that his threat was planting real doubt in her mind.

"I could also be a powerful ally, should you make the right decisions," he continued on in a more plain tone. The sudden shift was just as unnerving as everything else. "Not that I will tell you what those are. To earn my strength, you must prove you are worthy on your own."

"I want no part of you," she hissed. "You are not of this world, are you?"

He laughed loudly, something that should have commanded the entire room's attention. Isha knew that if she could turn her head away from this man, though, she would still find nobody looking in their direction. Nobody would look to help her.

The man leaned forward again. "Oh, dear child. I think you will be most entertaining." He reached out and brushed a lock of Isha's hair from her shoulder.

"Very interesting," he breathed.

Isha blinked, and found herself staring at an empty stool, abandoned at the end of the bar.

She choked back a sob of relief, though it was a short-lived feeling. His horrendous words joined the cacophony of past voices that swirled about her mind, and she still felt a twinge of that dark, oppressive aura that surrounded him and repelled the other patrons of the bar.

Link would not be swayed by such threats, Isha told herself, trying to quiet her mind. You can't fall victim to this...intimidation.

A fear rooted itself deep in her heart, though. If the monster she'd encountered could appear and disappear so easily, and be ignored so easily, she wondered how often he used it to murder innocents as he saw fit.

She couldn't bear to focus on anything else the stranger had said. She couldn't focus on why or how he seemed to know so much about her and her family, why or how he seemed to be here just to speak to herr, or why he'd gone to such lengths to hide any identifying features. No, she could not think on those things and what they implied. Instead, she focused on what she could manage: her fear of monsters.

I cannot be deterred. I cannot stop now.

Isha returned to her rooms immediately and barricaded her locked door with a large dresser. Just in case.


"I know you're not seriously about to challenge that thing…"

Midna's voice was hardly audible over the enraged shouts of one mountainous Goron, currently rampaging about Link's appearance so deep within the Goron Mines. It seemed that news had traveled quickly to the elders within, but had somehow not reached this particular guard.

"Humans are not allowed up here!" the Goron bellowed. "You are here to steal our sacred treasure, I know! Humans are liars and thieves, and I was instructed to protect this place against your kind! You will not fool me, sneaky human!"

The guard towered over Link, even from across this arena-like room. The swordsman recalled the size of the handprint on the heat tag he was given, and believed even it would be dwarfed by this soldier. He wore thick metal plating across his chest, face, and arms - his weak points - but it did not fully cover his stomach, which was adorned with fanciful tattoos.

Link took a step out into the greater part of the room, ignoring the burbling lava pit beneath the platform he was trying to cross. "I have spoken with several of your elders in other parts of the mines, and faced Gor Coron in a fair sumo fight. He granted me permission–"

"LIES!" the mountain seemed to shake with the Goron's voice. "I will hear no more of this! You will leave, or you will die!"

Link took another defiant step forward, drawing his sword. It seemed so painfully inadequate against such an armored foe, but he hoped it would be enough. "I will do what I came here to do: save your people's sacred mines! If you stand in my way, then you stand in the way of your people!"

The Goron guard leapt forward, crashing down onto the platform Link was standing on. The entire thing swayed, as though…

He noticed chains hanging from the ceiling, chains he'd barely noticed before in all the shouting. They were attached to the metallic platform he stood upon, and Link realized that, in fact, this was not a connected bridge to the other side.

It was a floating arena, and the weight of the armored guard was far too much for the old, rusted chains.

Before Link could shout a warning, one of the chains closest to him snapped from its place within the rocky ceiling. Debris tumbled down around the hero as the platform lurched violently, threatening to pitch him into the boiling lava below.

Link's feet snapped flat to the surface of the platform, and he found himself standing at a severe angle, his feet suddenly seeming to cling to the ground. Looking down, the swordsman found his iron boots, courtesy of his most frustrating companion.

"Gods bless you, Midna," he breathed in relief. The metal platform was, like many other places in these strange mines, magnetized. As long as he kept his iron boots on, he could remain steady on the tilted platform, though it came at great cost to his maneuverability.

The guard, seeing Link standing instead of falling, began to beat the ground beneath his feet with massive fists. It was all Link could do to keep himself steady and pray as the other three chains snapped from the ceiling, raining down more debris and sending the platform tumbling into the lava below.

The landing was rough, but the platform remained afloat. The air around them shimmered with the intense heat, but the heat tag continued to hold strong for Link, and he made a mental note to profusely thank Gor Coron for the gift.

The guard before him began to stomp forward, bearing down quickly on the hero. He took slow steps back, analyzing his opponent and searching for a weak spot. Aside from the unguarded stomach, this Goron did not appear to have any. Surely, it wouldn't be so obvious…

Link dared a glance behind himself, noting how close he was getting to the edge, where churning magma bubbled. Like a sumo match, but far worse… he couldn't help but think.

The Goron noticed Link's limited movements and smiled as he hastened his approach. "Stand there and be a good human! There is nowhere for you to go!" He raised his massive arms above his head, preparing to crush Link into the metal itself.

The guard was massive, but encumbered greatly by his metallic armor. The hero saw his opening and lunged forward, the goat horn sword striking the Goron directly in his stomach. Though the sword was not sharp enough to cut through armored skin, it was enough to send his opponent reeling back in pain. The guard curled into a ball around his stomach and howled.

"I just ate, you soft-shelled bastard!" the guard's cries were muffled, but Link wasted no time in responding. He pushed himself forward, pulling his legs from the strong magnets below as fast as he could. He reached the curled-up Goron and grabbed ahold of the rocky spikes along his back. The iron cuffs materialized on Link's wrists just as he made contact, and the enhanced strength flowed through him like a raging current. With less effort than expected, Link lifted the Goron and flung him around, out of the ring and into the boiling lava.

Dabu had told Link Gorons were fireproof, capable of living in volcanoes, if they so wished. He hoped that this was true, and not some exaggeration. Though the guard was standing in his way, the young swordsman did not want to end anyone's life if it wasn't necessary.

The Goron shouted his anger, pulling his hulking form back up onto the platform. The entire thing lurched, and Link feared the giant would kill him just by flipping the platform over. Somehow, though, the Goron managed to heave himself back onto dry land without putting Link in further jeopardy.

The guard had lost his helmet in the lava, uncovering bright blue eyes and a surprisingly kind face. He heaved and stood upright, turning to face Link. "You… you threw me out of the ring."

"You, and your elder. It is why I'm here," the hero tried telling him once more. "We can go again, if you need further proof."

"...You have so much strength, for one so young." Gone was the booming, earth-shattering voice. It was now a pleasant, low hum, and awe replaced his anger. "Perhaps I was…wrong, to assume you a liar."

"You were." Link did not let his guard down, not yet. "How is it that the elders know, yet you do not?'

"It is…difficult for anyone to come this far down, with all of the monster activity. Most of our brothers are bested before they make it close to the armory. I am Dangoro, guard to the treasure of heroes past." As he spoke, he picked up a rather large rock that had dislodged from the ceiling in all the chaos and threw it over to the wall, striking a pillar and pushing a hidden button. After a series of whirring mechanical noises, the lava pool beneath them began to rise, carrying the unchained platform back to the top of the room, where it once more bridged the gap from one door to the other.

"I am Link, from Ordon Village," the hero finally returned the pleasantries, sheathing his sword and grateful for the Goron tendency to hold to old traditions. He was not certain he could best Dangoro in an extended fight. "I'm trying to do what I can to help here."

"So, you are the one they've sent to help our Patriarch…" The giant Goron seemed to be thinking for a moment. Finally, he gestured to the door opposite the one Link had entered. "There is a bow mounted on the back wall of this room. Take it, and nothing else. It is one of many sacred weapons guarded by our tribe, but I believe you will find it to be useful on your adventures. Consider it an apology for my rudeness. This one was once wielded by a legendary hero, said to be garbed in green.

"Perhaps it is just me, but your strength, bravery, and clothes remind me of the stories I was told as a child." Dangoro smiled.

"...I don't suppose you would be able to give me directions, would you?" Link asked as he made his way past the guard. "I only found my way here by chance."

Dangoro's laughter was even more earth-shaking up close. "You will pass a table with many copies of maps upon it. They are of our mines, and should be useful enough. Go, and save our Patriarch."

Link bowed in respect, his ears ringing but a feeling of relief washing over him at the sudden shift in his luck. "I promise I will do all that I can." He walked past Dangoro, through the now-unguarded door.

He entered another room full of lava pools and strange rock formations bridging across them, but now with the added obstacle of piles of massive, ornate weapons. Swords, battleaxes, halberds, spears, flails… Link had never considered that the Gorons would want to best anyone in battle with anything other than their brute strength.

He left these weapons alone, though, choosing not to break Dangoro's trust. He followed the winding rock paths to the back wall, where an ornate bow hung proudly above a shelf containing a full quiver of arrows. Midna drifted from his shadow, lifting a large sheet of parchment from a nearby table. He mumbled his thanks to the imp, who did not reply.

Link approached the bow. Isha would have a fit, he thought with amusement, taking the weapon with care. The bow itself was carved from wood, with motifs of flowering vines rising out of the light wood, painted in gold. The hero was entirely unfamiliar with projectile weapons, save for his slingshot that felt like nothing more than a child's toy in comparison to what populated the room around him. He pulled at the taut bowstring, wondering if age would have degraded it.

The bow seemed to be in beautiful condition, though. He would not have guessed it ancient, for how it shone in the glow of the magma. He would have to ask Isha if she knew anything of the legendary hero that Dangoro mentioned.

He made short work of attaching the quiver onto his back, noting the large stash of arrows. He would have to be mindful of his limited ammunition, but he figured he had enough to practice his aim on some of the evil monsters still patrolling the deeper levels of the mine.

She's going to have a fit when I come back with this, Link thought again, a faint smile on his lips.