The Legend of Zelda: Shadows of the Past

Dearest reader,

2008-03-14T11:15:00.003-05:00

I am communicating with you via Gossip Stone! (I have always wanted to say that. These things are truly amazing ~ all the way to Earth from Hyrule!)

My associate, Shad and I are pleased to announce that we have just completed a large amount of research into Hyrule's history and have compiled a rather extensive and (what we believe to be) relatively accurate telling of the times of the Sages of Hyrule and the surrounding circumstances.

A little about the account we have compiled here: it has been roughly one-and-a-half years in the making, dutifully referenced and cross-referenced to any and all accounts of happenings in Hyrule (legendary or actual), and has made extensive use of the Book of Mudora (which, as Shad and I discovered, was still available at the Kakariko Village Library ~ truly, a remarkable find).

Despite our best efforts, however, we have had to fill in quite a few gaps to bring you the more complete version of the history, and some of our research may, sadly, be incorrect. Nevertheless, we felt this almost true account was worth your perusal. If your attentive and dutiful eye detects any inconsistencies with the Legend as you know it, please contact me via Gossip Stone and share your comments.

We wish to relay this telling of the Legend to you post-haste. Please choose a volume from the bookshelf at the left and peruse to your heart's content.

Dearly and Dutifully,
the Hero of Geeks

PS ~ Ah, yes! Master Shad has just reminded me that I have not even told you the title of our work. We have named it The Legend of Zelda: Shadows of the Past. (A lovely title, I think ~ full of foreshadowing and whatnot, excuse the pun.) With no further ado, enjoy!

Introduction to Shadows of the Past

2008-03-14T11:06:00.002-05:00

A few words to begin: I do not claim the names and situations of these characters as my own. The Legend of Zelda, Link, Zelda, the Triforce, Hyrule, and all other related names are property of Nintendo. In no way do I intend to profit from these properties, nor do I expect any to regard the following as my own invention. While I do claim the characters and situations which are unique to this story (please see the Timeline in the appendix), let it be known that as for the rest I am taking artistic liberties with someone else’s ideas; poetic license with someone else’s plot. This story is purely for amusement purposes only.

With the legalities firmly established I do wish to say that I have embellished greatly upon the original story, and not unrealistically so, I hope. It is my hope that this story be seen as a complement to the games, a fleshing out of the background stories, if you will, in an attempt to resolve some of the hidden connections between characters and provide one perspective as to how the games fit with one another. I submit that many fans may disagree with my placement of the games, but for reasons of my own—which are no less thought out than anything else I have done here—I have placed them where I have. Please, enjoy the story as it is. I sincerely hope you do.

Thank you for reading my work,

—Wm Jay Carter III {HHE, HG}

For those who wish to understand my thought process as I put this together or for a chronology of events, please see the appendix at the conclusion of the story. The contextual game progression is understood to be:

MC, OoT, MM, FS(A), TP, ALttP

Other games could be placed within this context, but I am drawing upon these for the purposes of the current story.

Episode I ~ The Looming Shadow

2008-03-14T10:56:00.005-05:00

Being the first of three episodes composing the work "Shadows of the Past," which chronicles the events surrounding the Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask.

This, the first episode, begins with the account of Mudora, thirty-nine years prior to the birth of the prophesied Hero of Time. Mudora, the Sage of Shadow and Master of the Sheikah people, is 34 years old. Under the direction of the Hylian king he gives accounts of the happenings in Hyrule since the beginning of time.

Please note changes in time as indicated at the beginning of relevant sections and chapters.

Prologue ~ Mudora: Words and Prophecies

2008-03-14T10:46:00.006-05:00

The following are excerpts from a legendary enchanted manuscript called the Book of Mudora, a volume written by one of the Sages of Hyrule. Accompanying the writings is a treatise on the Hylian language, suggesting that the author had intended the knowledge contained herein to be preserved past even the degradation of the society. The following passages which were written using the hieroglyphs of the original Ancient Hylian are impossible to translate using the included language primer, the only exception being the vision of the Golden Land (the translation of which has been maintained in oral tradition.)

Written 1335 HR (Hyrulean Reckoning)
Concerning the Goddesses and the Creation of Hyrule

According to the reckoning of our time, before the Days of the Ancients, before the waters flowed and the mountains shook, from beyond the distant nebulae that reach across the heavens, the three Goddesses of Gold came to form our world, and gave it order, and life.

Din, with her furious might, took up the land that was and made the mountains and valleys, and tilled the earth. Great peaks ridged the surface of the planet, and then she awoke the forces of the world from their slumber and the mountains began to belch fire, and smoke. Din was the source of our world’s power.

Nayru, with her calculating mind, took of the chaos that was and formed patterns and order. The great waters were subdued and flowed according to their given course, and the mysteries of magic and science ceased to flee, and she bound them, that they might be discovered. Nayru was the source of our world’s wisdom.

Faroe, with her verdant embrace, took of the spirits that were and gave them life. Plants and animals of every kind appeared, and they all upheld the order that was established, and went forth to take up the powers that had been awakened. And in those days there was no fear, but all forms of life protected their own kind from that which would threaten to destroy. Faroe was the source of our world’s courage.

Concerning the Races of Hyrule and the Triforce

And when the Goddesses had finished our world, they made the races to live there—the noble Hylians, with their fair skin and pointed ears, wisest of all the races; the honorable Sheikah, with hair as white as snow, loyal and brave; the cunning Gerudo, with their dark complexions and lithe bodies, bold and charismatic. And other races came forth from the elements, to serve the Goddesses that made them. From stone, and water, and forest were made beings that were strong, and fair, and curious.

And then the three Goddesses departed our world, and left behind a symbol of their strength; a golden triangle known as the Triforce. And I, Mudora, have seen in vision that the Sacred Object does exist. And my vision was thus:

[indecipherable hieroglyphs—early Hylian origin]

Translation from oral tradition:
In a realm beyond sight,
The sky shines gold, not blue.
There, the Triforce’s might
Makes mortal dreams come true.

~I am Mudora, Sage of Shadow and keeper of these secrets

Concerning the Search for the Triforce

From its hiding place in the so-called Golden Land where the Goddesses placed it, the Triforce beckoned people from the outside world to seek it, that one worthy of its powers might have the wish of his heart. It was said that any who obtained it would have his heart’s desire. A small but powerful portion of the essence of the Goddesses was held in this mighty artifact, which was to guide the intelligent life on the world of Hyrule. As an extension of the power of the Goddesses, the Triforce became the source of our world’s providence. But what was our gift would also become our curse.

For many long years, none knew how to enter the Golden Land in order to obtain the Triforce. Nevertheless, many aggressively sought the wish-granting Object, and squandered their lives in the search. Though they looked west, below the Burning Desert, and east, within the fiery caverns of Death Mountain, the entrance could not be found. Some claimed it was at the bottom of the Great Hylian Lake in the south, though not even they who dwell at the bottom of those great waters could say for certain.

But just as many had begun to lose interest in the search for the path to the Sacred Object, a foul breath issued forth across the land and the foolish, and the power-hungry, and the coward began to allow the idea of it to infect his mind. These greed-maddened people utterly wasted themselves in the futile search for the entrance to the Sacred Realm, finally turning upon themselves or each other and taking their own lives for despair—for a dream that could never be; for hopes that would never be realized. The thought of the Triforce stole men from their families, mothers from their children, and left those who remained mourning and cursing the Goddesses.

Concerning the War of the Golden Land

For centuries the Triforce lay hidden, deep in a realm a world away from our own. But then one day (in the thirteen hundred and ninth year since the advent of the Goddesses) a gate to the Golden Land appeared near the castle of the Hylian people, within the town they had made there. Soon the races of Hyrule were revisited with grief, as all those who had sought the Triforce in vain now came flocking to the place with renewed lust. Daily the gate consumed any deluded soul who entered it, though none would ever return. Many watched the gate intently for any sign of their departed loved ones, but they waited in vain.

Years passed and still the flocks of deluded souls could not be restrained from their hapless doom. Finally, a militia was formed, and a resistance held. The militia surrounded the gate with pikes and spears, and watches were held day and night. But with frenzied minds the greed-driven Hylians attacked their own people, and a war began which some claim has not ceased to this day. It has been called in times long after the War of the Golden Land. It was a brutal and shameful war, where brother fought against brother, and deceit and betrayal ran through the streets like water.

Many good souls died on account of the War of the Golden Land. Those lost in service of their crown and people were awarded posthumous knighthood by the king of Hyrule, who sorrowed for his people’s anguish. Then the call was made to form a strengthened force to better preserve the people from the enticement of the golden gate; none would be allowed to enter the golden gate by decree of the Hylian king. And from thenceforth the Hylian Kingdom has employed a body of soldiers, and standing beside them in defense of their land were the Knights of Hyrule—valiant souls who guarded against the self-destruction of their people and protected the Royal Family of Hyrule. When those seeking entrance into the Golden Land saw they could not conquer an organized force, they banded together and retreated without the walls of the city to await another chance to satisfy their lust for the powers of the Triforce.

Now, in those days the Sheikah were a race aloof and observant, and they had sent their spies out to bring news of the Golden Land, and whether there had been success by any in obtaining the Triforce. When it was learned that the Triforce was as yet unwon, they sent in their own people in small numbers to scout and see if aught might be learned and if any indeed might return. So skilled were they at stealth that their advance party was able to pass the Knights charged with the gate’s protection and enter unseen…or rather, almost unseen.

One man, cunning and observant himself, was camped with his fellow dissenters without the walls of the Hylian’s Castle Town and saw the Sheikah scouts pass by. Following from afar off, he watched as they infiltrated the Knights’ camp and entered the Golden Realm. He waited to see if they had any success—whether they might emerge with the Power of Gold—but like so many, they were lost. So the cunning man tracked the scouts’ trail back to the Sheikah village, called Kakariko, at the foot of Death Mountain. When this cunning man appealed to the Master of the Sheikah to teach him how to enter the portal unseen, the master flatly refused. But after reporting that the Sheikah scouts had never returned he offered himself and his fellows as subjects to test the gate, if only it got them into that portal they sought so intently. The Sheikah master saw an opportunity in the prospect and agreed. And the cunning man and his brethren were taught how they might achieve their ends.

Unfortunately, the cunning man was never rewarded according to his desire, for he and the others that attempted to infiltrate the Knights’ camp were caught and imprisoned. Discovering their connection with the Sheikah, the king of Hyrule sent to the master of the Sheikah and charged him with infiltrating the kingdom of Hyrule and deceiving its people with false hope. Incensed, the master sent back that the Hylians were acting like foolish ants: sitting in a languid stupor on their hill while the treasure within their grasp went unclaimed, and still they prevented others from obtaining, perchance, what the Hylians saw no use for. But checking his anger, the master proposed a conjoined effort to discover the secrets of the portal and obtain, if the Goddesses would permit, the Power of Gold, and share between the two races the benefits of that boon. But the king of Hyrule would not, and returned that there should be no such arrangement, but that if any of the Sheikah were found within the borders of the kingdom they should be slain. For a time, enmity and silence prevailed between the races.

Then, having learned from both insult and injury, the Hylian king ordered that a more defensible solution be sought. The king’s chief advisor, the wizened Potho (who was also the head of the kingdom’s monastic order) suggested that a temple should be built to contain the portal. It could then put under the care of the monks, who would live in the temple, and thus the portal would be monitored day and night. The Hylian king agreed, and the temple was begun. Thus, the Knights of Hyrule were able to focus their attention on the limited entrances to the temple rather than a wide perimeter.

And the monks of the Temple saw it as their duty to pray to the Goddesses for a solution to the increasing unrest without the Hylian city gates. An answer, it seemed, came when those dissenters without the gates took up their camps and marched west, away from the city. It appeared there might be peace at last.

Concerning the Gerudo and their King

But the wise who see peace in their days know that it will not prevail indefinitely. This proved true for the Hylian king, as I will show you. But I would call your minds now to the third race of Hyrule, the Gerudo, who lived far from the Hylian kingdom, whose shrines lay deep within the Burning Desert. It was there that the dissenting Hylian force marched, and they told the Gerudo that a portal was opened; it was being held by the Hylians, and that they were preventing any from entering in. The lord of the Gerudo, an ambitious young man named Ganondorf Dragmire, saw the actions of the Hylian king as a challenge to any who would doubt the dominance of the Hylians as the supreme race. And it was certain that Ganondorf doubted.

Now aught must be said regarding the Gerudo. One year in every hundred there is a male child born within their tribe, and he is destined to be their king and lord. Each male will live long enough to see another born, and he will retain his vitality into his old age. He is a precious rarity among the race, and all of the females of the tribe are willing to protect him with their lives, for should he die, the Gerudo race would die with him and there would be nothing left of their way of life. The lord himself is taught from his infancy to be aggressive, ruthless, and merciless—for the Gerudo believe that anything short of this would put the king, and therefore their tribe, in jeopardy.

Above all the preservation of the Gerudo lord’s life is of supreme concern for any Gerudo female. It is for this reason that the females are trained as expert combatants; to better protect their king. A small band of bodyguards therefore protect the Great Ganondorf, as he is wont to be called, and these boast accomplishments in thievery, are skilled in secrecy and stealth, and the use of magic.

So it will be clear that when the Great Ganondorf saw the Hylians in their weakened state, he saw his chance to take the Triforce for himself, though he would make it seem to his tribe that he was acting out of intentions to improve their barren condition. For was it not in the power of the Triforce to grant the wish of one’s heart? Accordingly, Ganondorf went himself, with his bodyguards, to treat with the king of the Hylians that he might obtain his desire.

But having been wizened by experience, the Hylian king denied the Gerudo lord his wish. He would not permit him to enter the portal, for it had only lead to sorrow; and what, the king asked, would become of the Gerudo tribe if its lord never returned? But Ganondorf would not be swayed, and he berated the king and accused him of power-mongering, saying that the Hylians were selfish and spoiled children. Despite the Gerudo lord’s censure, yet the noble king would not relent, and still he refused to permit him entrance.

And then Ganondorf Dragmire revealed his treachery, and told the Hylian king of his plans to invade were they not to permit him entrance—that the king’s own men, those Hylian dissenters, were without the walls and supported by a force of trained Gerudo warriors. But the wise Hylian king still refused, and dismissed the Gerudo lord from his presence.

As the Gerudo made preparations for war, constructing what siege engines they might, the Knights of Hyrule likewise prepared fortifications for battle. But the Knights saw that even with the soldiers to aid them their numbers would not be enough, nor would their hearts permit them to fall upon their brethren to kill them, and the sorrow of the looming turmoil rested upon them. If they fell, it would not be without mercy to their own.

But the master of the Sheikah, being observant the Gerudo forces, and also weighed down with sorrow for his hastiness in accusing the Hylian king, sought forgiveness of him, saying that his words were rash, and that now in the hour of the Hylian’s greatest need, the Sheikah would aid them. And would not the Goddesses preserve them? And the Hylian king was gracious, and forgave all, and even showed his further magnificence by pleading forgiveness of the master, saying he had acted out of anger, and had been foolish. Thus was born the alliance of the Hylians and the Sheikah, who are now as one race. And I did prophesy concerning the Hylians and the Sheikah:

[indecipherable hieroglyphs—early Hylian origin]

~I am Mudora, Sage of Shadow and keeper of these secrets

And then began the Battle of the Betrayers, with the races of Hyrule locked in combat and seeking each other’s destruction. Gerudo warriors fought alongside Hylian dissenters against the Knights of Hyrule and their sworn allies, the Sheikah. Many knights and good men fell by the hands of those who were their brothers, but who had been overcome by greed and hatred. And as the battle waxed, Ganondorf, the very Gerudo lord, went himself with his guards to infiltrate the castle by way of secrecy. And when they had come to the Inner Chamber of the Castle, and were about to take the Hylian king, the Sheikah master and all of his fellows set upon Ganondorf’s guards, and caught the lord, to threaten him with his life.

When the Gerudo lord saw his life in danger, and nigh forfeit, yet he did not cease to boast. But the Hylian king silenced him and swore his tongue would be forfeit, if not his life, except he should hear the terms that the king was to offer. And these were the terms: that Ganondorf would leave the Hylian kingdom with his forces and never return unless it was to swear his allegiance to the Hylian royal crown, and that the dissenters should be delivered into Hylian custody for punishment.

Indignant, Ganondorf saw no option but to agree. He and his forces left, never to return, or so it seemed. The dissenters were left to the punishment of their betrayal; that they should be used for labor in the building of a tomb behind the graveyard in Kakariko for those valiant souls who had fallen by their hands. They were to live there, under the watchful eye of the Sheikah, until they joined their fallen brothers in death, and thus expiate their shame. Only their children, when they were old enough to bring honor to their family’s name, would be permitted to leave.

And the Sheikah provided assistance in rebuilding the town and finishing the building of the temple. And when it was finished, the temple was dedicated to Orda, the Goddess of Time. And for ever after the Sheikah served the Hylian royal family, and the women of the Sheikah were the nursemaids to the Hylian’s royal children, and the Sheikah men trained the Knights of Hyrule in stealth and combat. And thus the prophecy is fulfilled.

Written 1350 HR
Concerning the Sages of Hyrule and the Blade of Evil’s Bane

In this year the queen of Hyrule, Zanna by name, began to have prophetic dreams concerning a King of Evil who should obtain the Power of Gold and rule the land with tyranny. Now it was not uncommon in the Days of the Ancients, when a great evil beset the land, that the women of the Hylian royal family were visited with a dream or vision of the Goddesses which were soon proved true. And as the matter affected all of Hyrule, the queen took it upon herself to call together representatives of the races of Hyrule that the matter might be well considered.

Therefore the call went out that each race should be represented by its wisest and most trustworthy member, and that these should be called Sages; those who would counsel one with another concerning the affairs of Hyrule, and the spiritual representative of their race to the Goddesses. And Ganondorf Dragmire, King of the Gerudo, appointed Itzah, his favored hand-maiden, to be the Gerudo Sage. And Itzah was given quarters in the castle until the first council could be held. Then the king of Hyrule appointed his chief advisor, even the wise young Rauru of the Temple (previously the apprentice of Potho of the Temple, Faroe keep him) to represent the Hylians. And the Sheikah chose their Master (I who write to you, even Mudora) to be their representative.

And thus the Sages had been chosen, and the council was to be held in the Inner Sanctum of the Temple of Time. But then three other representatives appeared at the gates of the Hylian kingdom requesting an audience with the council. They appeared with no notice of their coming, and said they had been sent by the Goddesses in response to the summons for representatives from every race. For verily there had been other races made by the Goddesses, and now they were sending their most wise to join the other Sages. And these are the names of the Sages who were sent by the Goddesses:

Gor Darmon, of the Gorons, a people of flesh, but protected by stony backs and resistant to fire—they dwell high above Kakariko, near the volcanic crater of Death Mountain; Lutai, of the Zora, an aquatic people, with fins on their heads and arms and flippered feet—they dwell in the caverns from whence flows the Great Waterfall which feeds all the rivers of Hyrule and ends in the Great Hylian Lake; and Aako, of the Koroki, a people ever young, always clothed in green—they are the children of the Great Dekku Tree which sustains life within the Forgotten Wood.

Thus was born the Council of Sages; three chosen by the Hylians, Sheikah and Gerudo, and three appointed by the Goddesses. And the first council of the Sages was held within the Inner Sanctum of the Temple of Time, and the matter of importance was the portal to the Golden Land, which portal was contained in the Sanctuary of the temple; and it was asked whether it should be accessible to the races, or restricted that none should use it. The discussion was heated, with Itzah contending for free use of the portal by all, while Rauru contended that some means must be established whereby no ill-meaning person should obtain the Power of Gold. But after each of the Sages had spoken their part, they were not able to reach an agreement that would satisfy all. It was therefore the decision of the council that its members should pray for guidance and follow the will of the Goddesses, however it might be manifest.

And so it was that when the Hylian queen prayed she heard the voices of the Goddesses saying that she should tell the Council of the dream she had received. And so she came to the Sages and told them of a King of Evil in the shape of a wild boar that entered the Golden Land and seized the Power of Gold. And when he emerged with his armies there were none to stop him. But then the King of Evil was opposed by the Goddess of Courage, and the Goddess of Wisdom repelled him, and the Goddess of Power sealed him away. Then the Goddess of Time undid all of these events, and locked them away with a key in the form of a sword. And the Goddesses gave the sword to a child, who was to be a Great Hero who would travel through time to save the land from darkness. And the sword rested in a temple of light.

And when the queen had told of her dream it was received by the Sages as an answer from the Goddesses. But when they speculated as to the interpretation thereof, none of the Sages could agree what it was. Some said the Evil must be an old Power reborn. Others said one of the ancient magical swords should be recovered. But the queen knew the true meaning, and she told them that a new sword must be forged and imbued with the power to repel evil, even an evil with that power which was granted by the Triforce; and it would be a key, and if placed in the Temple of Time it would close the portal and prevent any from entering therein. And if any evil were, perchance, to claim the Triforce there would be a hero provided by the Goddesses, even a child, to confront that evil with the Blade of Evil’s Bane.

And so it was given to Gor Darmon, the Sage of the Gorons, to temper the blade in volcanic fire that it might be strong, and it would be cooled by Lutai in Zora waters that it might be keen. And when the blade was finished, Aako prayed over it and enchanted it with his magic that none but one with a pure heart and unsurpassed courage could wield it. And the Goddesses blessed it, that it might repel even those powers granted by the Triforce. Then a pedestal was built within the Temple of Time wherein the Master Sword might rest, for thus was the blade called after it had been enchanted. And the people called it the Blade of Evil’s Bane. And when the blade was placed within the pedestal, the gate to the Golden Land was shut, and never opened again. And I prophesy concerning the Sages and the Hero:

[indecipherable hieroglyphs—early Hylian origin]
~I am Mudora, Sage of Shadow and keeper of these secrets

And after I made this prophecy we Sages knew that we must take for ourselves places of sanctuary, and build up temples to the Goddesses in hidden places. And we made us magic songs which we could use to take us to the Inner Sanctum of the temple in times of need and for council. And so the council was adjourned, and its members dismissed.

Written 1374 HR
Concerning the Author’s Fate

One final message I have for you to whom I write. If you have possession of this volume, it means I am dead. It was necessary for these secrets to be kept as long as they might be, but all things must one day come to light. And I have yet somewhat to say concerning what I know shall come to pass.

I have seen Itzah’s disquiet at what we Sages have done, and rightly so, for it means a more difficult task for her master. Yet she has played the part—and though her prayers have not been sincere, though she was reluctant to add her magic to ours as we enchanted the Blade of Evil’s Bane, though she would have fled to tell her master of our affairs, still she has acted the Sage. And in so doing, she has accomplished what was crucial for the bringing of these events to pass.

And so I must bid you farewell. For I foresee that she will have need of these, my writings, which contain the plans of the Temple of Time and its passages in order to infiltrate the temple without being detected. And if so, then I know that she will kill me to obtain them, for her loyalty was never to the council, but to her master. It was ever thus in her eyes, if not in her voice or manner.

And so I write first to my servant Abrum. I speak by way of chastisement, but also by way of love, even that which a father would have for his son. I know that the servants of Lord Ganondorf have seduced you with power and feigned love. If I am dead, then you will have betrayed me and joined their cause. I do not censure you for your zeal, only your lack of judgment. I have seen that you were ever so, and to you I say that you are never unwelcome among the Sheikah, your people. You shall retain forever your own choice; make of it what you will, and not what others will.

And my greetings to you, Lord Ganondorf—I do not call you Great. You will not need to look far for what you seek. Though this volume has been enchanted to hide the deeper secrets of the Hylian Royal Family, you will not need them. Though it contains within its hidden pages the histories of our races, you know enough of this. And though its enchanted record lays plain the mysteries of magic we Sheikah have uncovered, you will have my servant to instruct you in the ways of our magic. He knows enough to serve you, but he does not know all the magical secrets of our tribe. I know that you will use my servant to your ends, manipulating his sympathies to draw the Master Sword from its pedestal because your evil heart will not permit you to touch even the hilt. But you shall find that your manipulations are for naught. Despite your preparations your progress shall be halted before you reach the Sanctuary of the Blade of Evil’s Bane. For now that I am dead and you are in possession of this volume the Great Hylian King has already arranged to thwart your plans. You shall not prevail in this thing. Nevertheless, you shall find within the mundane record precisely what you need for the unfolding of your treachery. And I will not hinder you.

I do not write to you, Itzah, for your shadow looms ever nearer even as I write this. May Nayru the Wise judge you according to your deeds.

But to those who shall read these words long after their ink has faded, and who learn these tales long after this paper has crumbled, know that I welcome death. I am unafraid of what lies beyond this mortality. But not to have served those I am indebted to—of that I am very much afraid. Know that my only regret is that I could not fulfill my purpose and be of more aid to my people. I would that I may yet serve those who come after me even in death. I commend myself to the Goddesses greatly troubled as that end quickly approaches.

And finally to you my fellow Sages I write by way of commendation. I commend to you the name of she whom I will to be my successor. The following is hidden by the manner which I have taught Rauru, Sage of Light, and shall be uncovered by him in due course when my successor should be chosen:

[indecipherable hieroglyphs—early Hylian origin]
~I am Mudora, Sage of Shadow and keeper of these secrets

Chapter I ~ Council of the Sages

2008-03-14T10:39:00.009-05:00

1374 HR

The infant seemed to sleep soundly, folded tightly in the bundle of clothes nestled in its mother’s arms. The rhythmic undulation of her torso counterpoint to the gallop of the horse did no more to wake the child than the commotion from which they had just escaped. The cold night air soothed her troubled face, her neck still warmed by the fires that billowed behind them. At her side, a pool of sticky red soaked her white nightgown, plastering the cloth to her thigh.

The woman swooned for only a moment, then recovered. Her taut form, lit by the churning blaze, leaned forward as her mount guided them further from danger, further from the whip of bowstrings, the musk of battle. Bars of shadow flickered over them as they passed behind trees, hastily forging into their only avenue of escape, their only hope of refuge. Into the forest they fled, and the child slept on. Only when the woman could no longer hear the roar of the flames did she halt the horse in its wild path. She turned her green eyes skyward, as if to ask the moon for guidance, but found nothing. Then, as she looked down, she saw a sight only heard of—there, next to the root of a large tree, stood a small green-clad child. The woman swooned.

* * *

Miles away, above a vast desert, the soldier seemed to sleep soundly, his body limp against his pole. A dry breeze drew up clouds of dust over the barren waste which stretched out in every direction from his post. His perch was a tower of wood scaffolding, lashed together with knots, simple but strong. So great had been his fatigue in the heat of the desert sun that night had fallen heavily on his eyes. It was his fatigue that betrayed him that night.

From somewhere out of the darkness an arrow tipped with fire streaked through the air and struck his chest, just below the heart. His eyes shot open, flickering like wet stones in the light of the flame as he fell against the railing, the fire catching on the wooden crossbars, then the rope knots. In moments, the tower became a glowing beacon in the night, and from somewhere beneath the glare of the blood-moon, the hidden archer advanced, unseen on the waste.

* * *

High in an upper bedchamber of the castle, the young queen seemed to sleep soundly under a thick quilt, her golden head resting serenely on a down pillow. The angle of her neck suggested dignity, and the shape of her brow displayed wisdom. Her pointed ears indicated that she was of the Hylian race—those favored of the Gods. Vigilant guards stood by, white men wrapped in white cloth, wearing solemn faces. Not asleep, but meditative, their stillness shamed the silence in the room. One might perhaps have heard the curtains whisper.

In moments, however, the queen’s wise brows tightened, her muscles tensing, her thin body curling. She moaned as one wounded, then suddenly screamed, violating the sacred silence. In response her dutiful guards suddenly animated, acting as if in well-rehearsed concert—one was immediately at her side, another lit the black wicks of a candelabrum on the bed-table, and a third arrived with a cool wet cloth. As they comforted her with soothing voices, the young woman pushed herself upright in her bed panting and heaving. After a moment, she leaned back against the headboard and pressed the wet cloth to her forehead, staring into the candlelight. When she spoke it was thin, but certain: “Din is angry.”

* * *

The bleeding woman swooned again, her grip on the bundle of clothes in her arms loosening. The touch of a small hand on her foot restored her to attention. She drew her sleeping son closer, blinking dully, her head nodding.

The green-clad child laughed. “Mother, you must stay awake. Our father bids you come.” Something about the child’s laugh—the woman thought she had heard it before. It was merry, sweet and innocent, as if the child thought the woman were pretending to sleep. She knew the laugh from a dream, perhaps—if she was not in a dream now. The child, a little girl, walked further into the forest, the horse following. From somewhere among the weak moonlit shadows, eerie notes floated, guiding her, it seemed—keeping her awake, yet calm. The song was like the child’s laugh—innocent, and full of happiness.

It must have been her fatigue, she decided—loss of blood. The stories in her head were coming to life as she was nearing death. There certainly could not have been a lone child guiding her through the forest. As they wandered through the bracken, the woman thought she noticed the same gnarled stump at least twice. She was dreaming, she thought. It must be. After some time, she could not say how long, the music had stopped, and so had they. The green-clad child was some distance ahead, standing in the opening of a large stone grotto. The little girl smiled sweetly and laughed again. “Do not be afraid, Mother, it is safe here. Our father wishes to see you. Come.”

Within her arms, the woman’s son finally began to stir, but quickly fell still again.

The horse again walked after the child, between the stones, down a slope of earth thickly carpeted with grass. Passing through a short tunnel, they emerged at the edge of a large clearing; a bowl of earth covered in the same thick carpet of grass at the opening. The place was bordered by a tall wall of natural rock upon which grew a tightly set fence of trees of every variety. From the trees hung a thick net of vines with large leaves which reached down even to the forest floor. The whole floor was dappled with stirring shadows as the morning light filtered through the boughs of an enormous tree growing in the center of the clearing which must have been at least half a mile high at its peak. The trunk itself filled almost a third of the clearing. And the most curious was a sight to outweigh it all, finally convincing the woman of either her dream-state or insanity—stretched across the near half of the tree was the rough face of a gnarled old man.

“Father,” the girl child said, addressing the enormous tree-face, “I have brought you the child and its mother.”

* * *

“My queen,” said one of the white men, “what have you seen?”

The young queen stared into the flickering light of the candelabrum. She lowered the cloth from her head, threw back her bedcovers, and crossed the room to her wardrobe. “Take me to my husband,” she said, “and summon the Sages…what is left of them.”

* * *

The morning sun streamed through the arched windows of the library casting dusty shafts of light on a long table layered with paper—large sheets of unrolled parchment scrawled with names of neighboring areas, marked with colors representing political borders; scrolls bearing hastily written notes or information regarding the positions of soldiers. Just outside the pool of light the young king’s head lay upon the table, a quill still resting in the loose grip of his work-hardened hands, the crimson ink long since dried. Embers glowed in the fireplace on one end of the hall, while presently a knock came from the door on the other. The king raised his head in time for the Captain of the Royal Guard to open the door. The captain stepped inside.

“My Liege,” he said, bowing with one hand to his breast.

The king cleared his throat. “Report.”

“Sire, the Arbiter’s Grounds was attacked last night during the second watch. The outermost tower was burned to the ground. Our scouts have still found no sign of the attackers.”

As the captain spoke, the king’s eyes focused on a map directly in front of him marked with numerous red dots, all surrounding the maze of lines that represented the Arbiter’s Grounds. His eyes flickered over a spot representing the Arbiter’s central chamber. Without looking up, the king spoke. “And the prisoner?”

“Still in custody, Sire.”

The king released a long breath and rested against the back of his chair. He wiped the sleep from one eye with a thumb. “Has there been any news regarding the skirmishes on the Town?”

“No word yet, Sire. The attackers continue to remain unknown. They are gone before any reinforcements can arrive, and they have still eluded our trackers. The townspeople are being evacuated to Kakariko village as you directed.”

“Good.” After a short pause the king added, “Who was the guard on that tower, Captain?”

“Hansen, son of Rannon, Sire.”

The king’s eyes widened, “And he was caught in the fire?”

“Yes, Sire,” the captain looked at his boots.

The king lowered his voice. “Din keep him, poor soul.” After a moment’s consideration, the king dipped his quill in a bottle of crimson ink and let a drop fall on a small square representing the outmost tower. The king rested the quill in the bottle and then turned in his seat to face the captain directly. The captain raised his head, inhaling shortly. “I expect to hear from you as soon as two towers have been constructed to replace our lost one, Captain. Be certain that each has two men; one above, one below.”

“They have already begun, Sire. It shall be as you say.” The captain bowed again, one hand to his breast.

“Very well.” The captain turned to leave. “Colin?” said the king. The captain paused. “I’m so sorry. Please tell your uncle Rannon that he has my condolences.”

It was a moment before the captain responded. “Thank you, Daphnes,” he said. “You have always been good to us. You are like a brother to me…”

The king looked at Colin kindly, but the captain did not meet his eyes. “Colin please, sit,” he said.

The captain did not sit, but cleared his throat. Without turning he said, “I will be sending my wife ahead to Kakariko, Daphnes. I promise you I will not fail you or Zethra.”

The king rose from his seat and approached the captain. “I know Colin.” The king placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I trust you with the lives of all my loved ones, most of all my wife. Colin, I would ask you…” the king’s voice faltered.

The captain looked up, searching his friend’s face. “What is it Daphnes? Is Zethra well?”

The king’s eyes glittered with wetness and he offered a half-hearted smile. “She has been dreaming things of late, Colin, terrible nightmares, and…and I do not know whether they will cease. It may be the Goddesses’ doing…or it may be something sinister. The prophecies of the Queen of Hyrule always prove true. What if…I fear that she will come to harm or that…” His eyes dashed around as if he were watching scenes play out in his mind. The king looked the captain in the eye as he pressed his palm across his mouth and brought it down over his young beard. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

The captain clasped the king’s hands in both of his. “Daphnes, I swear to you no harm will come to Zethra so long as I breathe.”

The king nodded. “Thank you, Colin. May the Goddesses protect Karin as well.” The king’s eyes smiled through the wetness. “Assign a unit of your best men to escort her to Kakariko, will you?”

“I will,” the captain nodded, grinning. “Thank you, brother.” And he closed the door gently behind him as he left.

* * *

Barely audible at first, then increasing in volume and intensity, a deep throated hum filled the clearing. The sound rattled the fittings on the horse’s bridle, but it did not whinny or turn. It was as if the horse regarded the sound as the most natural and expected thing to happen at that moment. The woman suddenly realized the sound was coming from below the clearing, deep within the earth. All at once the eyes of the tree-face opened, and it spoke. Its voice was breathy and hollow, but deep as the earth, and the wind which came from its mouth smelled of rich brown soil, and suddenly the woman felt strength flow into her.

“Mother, I greet thee with sorrow for thine afflictions. I have naught to give thee that thou mayst be whole, nor do my children know the arts of healing, as they can never come to harm within this forest, but while here my magic can prolong your life, even if it be so short, and thou shalt not feel thy pain. Yet, know that I have aught to speak to thee, and then thy body must lie down to the earth.”

The woman knew of the Sheikah tribes which practiced magic and the shadow arts, and she reasoned that if she had truly seen all she had, and she was not dreaming, she could not deny that it was as the great tree had said. Surely she felt no pain, and so did not question that she would live long enough to speak for herself. Nevertheless she could feel her body passing, and so it did not matter now what she thought was possible. “Then I thank you, Master,” she said, respectfully. “With whom do I speak, that I may know my benefactor?”

The earth hummed again, as before, but only briefly, and then the tree responded. “I am the Father Dekku, and the Koroki are my children.” The girl child turned to the woman, smiling, reminding her again of some dream she must have had, somehow more near now. The great tree continued, “But know, Mother, that thy time is short, and soon thou shalt know me well. I must speak to thee of thy son, that which thou bearest next to thy breast. Knowest thou of his fate?”

“He is my son, sir, and I pray than Din be in him, for might; and Faroe, for valiance; and Nayru, for justice.” The woman looked at her sleeping child, her cheeks wetting with love, knowing she would not see him grown. “But I do not know of his fate.”

“A blessing well spoken, Mother,” said the tree.

She touched her son’s face, and held him close to her. “Please, sir, I see that thou must be an oracle. What may I know of him from thee? Is he to be great among his fellows?”

“He is, Mother. His name shall be had in the legends of thy people for countless generations. And I ask that my children may keep him until Faroe be in him, for valiance, and he is prepared for his destiny.”

The young mother cradled her son in her arms, and he stirred, but did not wake. “Why does he yet sleep, sir? And do we dream these things?”

“From the moment thy child was within my wood, I kept him, and he slept. For he shall see evils which are not yet created, and do them battle, and why should he be plagued with more? And though thou dreamest not, yet others have dreamed, and shall tell of thee.”

And as the woman gazed at her son, her sleeping joy, she began to feel very thin, and knew that her time was spent. “Yes, Master Dekku, Father of the Koroki, it is as you have said. I go. And take my child. Will you raise him in the ways of the Goddesses?”

“Yes, Mother. All shall be as would please Them. Come, now, and sleep next to me. It is time for the earth to catch you.”

The young mother lowered her son into the arms of the attending girl child, who cradled him, smiling at him sweetly. “Goodbye, my son,” said the young mother, “Nayru keep you until I see you again. Goodbye.” And the horse carried her to one side of the great tree, where she alighted, and laid her down, and died.

* * *

The Inner Sanctum of the temple was a large circular room, made of white marble and capped by a high dome. The terrace which circumvented the room on the second level was flanked on all sides by stained glass windows and supported from below by an arcade made of columns bearing peaked arches. In the center of the room was a circular stone dais upon which rested nine high-backed chairs, facing inward, all wooden with lush upholstery. On this occasion, the chairs were occupied by the king and queen; the Captain of the Royal Guard to the king’s right; and to the queen’s left sat the Sages of Hyrule. The chair immediately to the captain’s right sat empty. Its emptiness did not go unnoticed, however, and the air was stifled by a sense of loss.

Presently, the queen stood. A jeweled circlet graced her golden head. From under her long purple vest flowed a white gown. From her golden belt hung the apron of her station, bearing the crest of the royal family—a bird with wings outstretched, bearing above it, in place of its head, a triangle made of three smaller triangles each embroidered of gold thread.

She spoke: “Since the days of the Hero King, the daughters of the royal family of Hyrule have always been gifted with the Light of the Goddesses,” she began. “It is had in the legends of our people that they are given dreams, which shortly are proven true. This you know.” The sages and captain waited quietly. The queen stood erect, her gloved hands folded before her. “I have had such a dream.” The next moment the air changed, suddenly charged with tension; none in audience moved.

“My dream was thus,” the queen continued, quietly but clearly. “I was in a field, near a wood, where blue soldiers fought red demons. The soldiers fought bravely, but the demons spat fire, and the field became an inferno.” As she spoke her eyes followed invisible warriors as they raced after their enemies—she squinted faintly as they were halted by sudden gouts of imaginary flame. “And out from among the blue fled a mother, with her green child. Faroe took them, and within her arms she hid them, though the mother perished in her embrace.

“Then I was on a high tower, in a waste of darkness, watching Din’s shrine. For she was imprisoned within her own shrine, and became angry, and summoned her children to free her from captivity. Then the moon turned to blood, and her fury shot out of the dark waste and I was consumed.” The queen’s voice caught in her throat and she looked at her folded hands. Her husband reached forward and grasped one of her hands as a tear slid out of each of her eyes. “I could do nothing,” she finally said. “It was done,” and she eased herself into her wooden seat.

The first sage to the queen’s left watched the queen as she sat. He was a balding man with pointed ears and thick hair on his cheeks, peppered with age. He wore an orange hooded robe with a red mantle and apron. On his lap lay a green book. His expression was of concern, primarily for the queen who seemed preoccupied with thoughts far from their current surroundings. “This has been the first dream given to a Hylian queen since your grandmother,” he said. “I was young then, but I remember what it meant for our people.”

“I know, Rauru,” the queen responded. “It does not bode well for us.”

“Hero,” said the small boy seated to the right of Rauru. He had a pleasant grin and intelligent eyes that were such a deep green as to be almost black. He wore green clothes that appeared as if they had been made of very large leaves. His feet dangled over the edge of his wooden chair and did not touch the floor. His childish playfulness made it seem as if he, among all the Sages, might not know that one of their number had been murdered and another was still missing. Or perhaps he knew but did not see why it should be a matter of concern.

“I think Aako is right,” said the next Sage, Gor Darmon of the Goron tribe. Like all Gorons, his brown body was bulky and dense, and upon his back had grown large deposits of minerals from the diet of rocks that served their people as a food source. “The child in Zethra’s dream may be the hero that was spoken of in Mudora’s prophecy.”

“Nayru keep him,” said Lutai, the Zora sage. She turned her finned head to look at the empty seat to her left. Like all Zoras her skin was a tint of slightly translucent blue and protruding from her arms and legs were fins like those of a fish.

The captain spoke. “May it please your Majesties, esteemed ones…”

“Speak,” said the king, not unkindly.

“We have questioned the prisoner, Mudora’s murderer,” the captain continued, “and we believe her to be…to be…” The captain shifted in his seat; that which would otherwise have been occupied by the Sage of the Gerudo people, who had not been accounted for.

“Itzah,” Zethra finished, comprehending.

“She was in disguise,” said Gor Darmon staring through the center of the dais. “Must have been. I did not recognize her when I came in and found…” he, too, looked over at the empty seat.

“But why would she have done this?” asked Lutai, “Did she not agree to the counsels we held? Were not her loyalties…”

“Pig,” said Aako.

“Yes, I believe you are right, Aako,” said Rauru. “She had never ceased being her master’s servant. It is as Mudora said in his final words—blessed are the Goddesses that we have them.” He lifted the green book from his lap to look at the spine. There in the very center of the spine was a glyph. Translated from the Hylian it read Mudora, Sage of Shadow, secret keeper.

“Forgive me, master,” the captain said, “but what is the significance of the book?”

Rauru’s attention was pulled from the glyph. He looked at the captain and knotted his bushy eyebrows together. “The book was stolen from Mudora the same night that he was murdered, not three days hence. Mudora himself predicted this in his writings and accordingly he wrote a message to Lord Ganondorf knowing he would read it. He also must have suspected we would come into possession of it, as he left the Sages a message as well. I found Mudora’s book last night in the nave of the temple between the altar and the Door of Time. His Majesty commanded the Door closed and locked as soon as we heard that Mudora had…” Rauru saw Lutai bow her finned head and he faltered. “…as soon as we heard what had happened,” he continued, “and knew that his secrets were jeopardized. Since then I have not let the book leave my possession—it is the only evidence we have as to who had entered the temple.” The captain seemed to assimilate this information.

“Has the lock held thus far?” the king asked.

“Yes,” replied Rauru. Then he spoke to his fellow Sages. “We have sealed the Door with three stones which can only be activated if they are brought together on the altar of the temple. The enchantment has been bound to this,” Rauru now pulled out a small flute-like instrument from somewhere beneath his robes. It was a hollow lump of blue clay the size of a large potato. On its protruding neck it bore three triangles arranged to form a larger triangle. “Masters Sharp and Flat have already enchanted the Ocarina, and I have asked Orda to bless it, and we have faith that she will preserve the enchantments through the dusts of time. The final element necessary to open the Door is the melody of the Hylian Royal Family which must be played on this ocarina while standing before the altar.”

“Show them the Stones, Rauru,” said the queen.

Rauru produced three medium-sized gems; a ruby, a sapphire, and an emerald. Each was set in gold edging and all glittered brightly in the light filtering through the stained-glass above them. “I thought it best to entrust them to the peoples away from this land, the Gorons, Zora, and Koroki.”

The king spoke. “I agree. It is proposed that the stones which lock the Door of Time be placed in the care of the peoples of Hyrule; the Gorons, Zora, and Koroki by name. Your favors?”
“Aye,” said the queen.

“Aye,” said Rauru.

Aako nodded vigorously.

“Aye,” Gor Darmon growled.

“Aye,” said Lutai.

“Master Captain,” said the king, “would you cast a favor in absence of our beloved Mudora?”

The captain looked sincerely flattered. “It is an honor, Majesty, Nayru keep him,” he said, bowing with one hand to his chest. Then, after pausing to give the question consideration he said, “The entrance to the portal should remain secure. It is a good thing. Aye, then.”

“Then we have six to affirm; it is agreed,” said the king. And Rauru stood and entrusted the emerald to Aako, the ruby to Gor Darmon, and the sapphire to Lutai. As Rauru sat, the king spoke again. “It is crucial that these stones be handled with the utmost of secrecy and protection. Speak of them to no one. If they are discovered, it may mean the invasion of the Golden Realm by that Great Evil spoken of in the prophecies.” Each of the Sages nodded their assent. Aako looked through the green gem he had been given as if it were a monocle.

“And what of the Ocarina?” said the captain, addressing Rauru. “Will you keep it, Master Sage? You are the oldest and wisest of the Sages.”

“Old I am. But I am not the oldest, Master Captain. And may my wisdom be proven. The Ocarina is the most essential part of the enchantment holding the Door of Time in place. My monks and I continue to maintain a constant vigilance in the temple. I would not keep a key in the same building as the lock if I did not wish it to be opened,” said Rauru looking at the captain directly. The captain looked down at the arm of the chair in which he sat. He seemed to become vaguely interested in the grain of the wood. “I had hoped,” Rauru continued, offering the Ocarina to the queen, “that her Majesty would oblige me…”

She looked at the instrument in Rauru’s hands, pondering it. “I know it is only more to be concerned for,” he said, “but I can think of none more wise, with greater good in her heart; with greater resistance to evil.” For a moment Rauru thought he saw a look of weariness pass over her young face, but as soon as he saw it, it was gone.

“It is now my turn to be honored,” Zethra said demurely. “I would not deny this great gift,” and she extended a hand to take the Ocarina.

Rauru reached out and placed his other hand on the queen’s before she took the instrument. Their eyes met. Rauru spoke quietly so only she could hear. “If ever you feel more burdened than you can bear, my dear child…”

“I know I can rely on you, uncle,” she replied, a weak smile crossing her lips. Rauru removed his hand and Zethra took the instrument, holding it against her breast.

“Oh, and that reminds me, Your Majesty,” said Rauru, addressing the king, “Master Flat bid me return this to you.” Rauru drew an ivory conductor’s baton from within his sleeve. It was carved with complex curled forms. “It has been enchanted as you directed. He wishes to consult with you another time regarding its possible use with a pipe organ.”

The king regarded the baton with wonder. “Thank you, Rauru.”

“With that matter settled,” growled Gor Darmon, “we would know the interpretation of the vision which Queen Zethra of the Hylians has seen.”

“Hero,” Aako repeated.

“Yes,” said Lutai, addressing the queen, “do you suppose the child to be the Hero of the prophecy, as Aako suggests?”

The queen’s eyes stared unseeing through the center of the stone dais. “If he is the Hero, Faroe shall not be in him yet for many years. Nevertheless, the evil is present now. Din is certainly angry. If it is her servant, Itzah, who has been imprisoned, Din will surely wish to answer her servant’s prayers with deliverance. Let us hope she has continued to be lax in her sincerity. A judgment will need to be made, and a sentence wrought. Let us pray Nayru grant us wisdom. We must convene at the Arbiter’s Grounds and pass judgment on our prisoner, whether she is Sage or no.”

Those in audience assented. Then the king turned to the captain. “Colin, do you think this may be connected with…Hansen?” The captain shared a significant glance with the king. The Sages looked on with perplexed faces; all but Aako, who looked like he was the only one who knew a very good secret.

“What is it, Daphnes?” said Zethra, finally. The king nodded to his friend.

“My queen,” said the captain, “I would tell you of one of our finest men, a cousin of mine, whose fate I suspect you have somehow shared. If my thought is not amiss, her Majesty saw his end as it occurred; Hansen was upon the outmost tower guarding the Arbiter’s Grounds. By granting you this dream, the Goddesses may have given us a clue as to how my cousin’s life ended.” The captain paused, then stared at his knees. His fingers wrapped around the knob on the arm of his chair, the knuckles of his thick, rough hands paling with the tension. The king turned to his wife and placed his hand on hers. She gripped it immediately. Then the king laid his other hand on the captain’s clenched fist. The captain’s head shook only slightly, and then he looked up again and cleared his throat.

“Please, Colin, continue,” Zethra said. She had turned to face him directly, across her husband. The eyes of all the Sages were on him.

“May it please my esteemed audience,” he began, more composed, “the queen said that Din had called up her children to free her. If Din stands in the place of…” here again he shifted in his chair, very aware to whom it had belonged, “…of the prisoner, Itzah of the Gerudo, then who would be her children but those of her tribe, the Gerudo themselves. They are all of them skilled in the arts of stealth, and our men were never able to find signs of the attackers. The Gerudo also built the Arbiter’s Grounds as a temple to Din before the Hylia occupied it in the days of the Queen Zanna. This suggests to me that the Gerudo are behind the attacks of the Grounds. They may wish to reclaim it, but hesitate to show themselves until they can ensure that they are able to take it completely.”

Rauru was the first to speak, and when he did it seemed to bring the others out of a trance of pensiveness. “That is an accusation of war, Master Captain. The Gerudo would not defy their king’s vow of truce. You are not old enough to remember the delicate balance that was accomplished between the Gerudo tribes and our own people.”

“I know enough,” the captain rebutted tersely. “The Lord of the Gerudo was a power-monger!”

“He was a madman!” Rauru bellowed, standing erect and imposing, “bent on entering the Golden Land to seize the Power of Gold—that artifact that grants the desires of any who touch it. If he had, like so many others maddened by the prospect of limitless power, he never would have come back. If he had entered he would have doomed their whole race to disappear.”

“Then good riddance!” yelled the captain, meeting the Sage in the middle of the dais with murderous eyes. It was to the captain as if he challenged not a Sage but the Gerudo king himself; the one he held responsible for Hansen’s death.

Almost immediately the king stood up. “Captain,” he said loudly. Then, more quietly, but with no less concern, “Colin, please, I know you’re grieving…” The captain acquiesced. He straightened his tunic and turned to sit. Rauru waited, nonplussed, until the captain was once again in his seat. Then the Sage sat as well.

“Why does the venerable Rauru receive no reprimand?” the captain said quietly, as if to no one in particular.

“Captain,” said Zethra firmly, “your presence here is welcome, and your views invited, but do not add insolence to impertinence. In the council we all are equal, as the matters that pertain to us pertain to all. Rauru represents our people in council. Do not give the other peoples of Hyrule a mistaken impression.” The captain glanced at Aako, whose tongue protruded from his mouth as he folded his arms. The captain did not know at that moment whether to laugh or follow suit, so he compromised and folded his arms. “Now, captain, if you are finished,” said Zethra, “then remain still and hear wisdom.”

Lutai spoke, carefully, so as not to condescend. “As you know, captain, the Gerudo are all women, save for the one male born to them once in a hundred years. It is their only saving grace that their king remains young in body into his old age. The man had no consideration for his people. They would have no king, and no means of perpetuating their race. To lose him would be to lose their way of life. It was therefore incumbent upon the Hylians to care for the Gerudo more than their own king. The man had to be stopped, but not killed, if they were to continue as a race.” The captain’s hands leapt to the rests of his seat. Reacting to the incredulous look on the captain’s face, Lutai pressed forward. “For,” she said, “the Goddesses created the races as a balance—a means of keeping each other in check.” This last word was put a little more forcefully, and coupled with the warning glare of the queen it served to subdue the captain.

“This is why,” concluded Gor Darmon, “the king of the Gerudo had to be threatened with his own life when he invaded. He had to be forced to agree to a truce. It is difficult enough trying to convince the Gerudo that we mean them no harm when their king is threatened, much less if they were accused of acting contrary to the word of their king to make war. We must be interdependent if we are to keep peace. To turn on each other is to commit the same crime you seem so anxious to punish. There are others grieving here, Master Captain.”

The captain looked as if he had just swallowed a particularly dry piece of bread. “So be it,” he said, looking at the floor. “Who then, esteemed ones, do you suppose is perpetrating the attacks?”

“If I may, my queen…” said Rauru, holding the green volume up with a finger in one of the pages.

“Please, Rauru.”

He opened the volume and reviewed what he read there. “In Mudora’s last words he spoke of his servant betraying him for the sake of ‘power and feigned love.’ It may be that his servant, Abrum by name, was seduced. It would be less likely that the Gerudo would disobey their king than that they obtained an insider, a traitor, to do the work for them. They are bound by their own honor not to act against us, but to have it done would not be beyond them.”

The king sat forward. “But who would have seduced Abrum? It would not have been Itzah. Abrum was Mudora’s closest assistant. He knew Itzah as well as any of us. And she was in disguise when she confronted Mudora. She must have had an accomplice.”

“Dancer,” said Aako, looking at the Goron Sage beside him.

“Yes, perhaps…” said Gor Darmon.

“What is it?” asked Lutai.

Gor Darmon’s wide brown face furrowed, making it appear like a large leather raisin. “There were attendants that accompanied Itzah when she would stay in the village. I would see them there sometimes when I came down from the mountain to visit. Abrum would show me the books he was binding for Kakariko’s library and I would teach him how to wrestle like a Goron. After our spars we would relax in the hot springs and Itzah’s attendants would dance for us. They were very good,” he added.

“But if Itzah’s attendants seduced Mudora’s servant, is that not the same as the Gerudo…” the captain began.

“No, Master Captain. It isn’t,” said Lutai, now becoming impatient. “Once Itzah became a Sage, she became a representative to her race not her tribe. It is for the same reason that Rauru can sit in council with the king and queen of his people and be on equal terms. It is a spiritual position, not a political one. For one of the attendants of the Gerudo Sage to induce a Sheikah servant to commit an act of treachery would neither involve the Gerudo as a tribe nor be directly against the Hylians, as were the terms of the truce. If you will consider the matter, you will find it is really quite a cunning move.”

Gor Darmon continued. “Whoever attempted to enter the Temple, it was not Itzah. She was caught, and then…someone took Mudora’s book. And if Mudora’s prediction be proven, it was the Lord Ganondorf who attempted to enter the Sanctuary of the Temple. It is obvious that the taint of the Golden Land still infects the minds of some.”

“That is to be determined, Darmon,” said the king. “Nevertheless, the stain is on the race, if not the tribe. If we make it clear that Itzah has been dealt with, whoever is behind these intrigues will give pause before they try again.” Then the king gazed at his wife with a look that resembled a lion’s fierceness as he is protecting his pride. “And the judgment must be swift, and decisive. I propose that Itzah’s trial be held this very night.”

Then the queen followed her husband’s statement like an echo. “I agree. It is proposed that Itzah’s trial be held this night. Your favors?”

“Aye,” said Rauru.

Aako’s face was set as he gave one strong nod.

“Aye,” growled Gor Darmon.

“Aye,” said Lutai.

“Aye,” said the captain emphatically, pounding his fist on the arm of Itzah’s chair.

The king’s eyes rested on his friend’s zealous face before he cast his favor. “Aye,” he said finally, and exhaled wearily.

“Then it is agreed,” said the queen. “The council will reconvene on the Arbiter’s Grounds at dusk.” And when it was decided that there was nothing further to discuss, the council was dismissed.

After the Sages had risen and begun to leave, Colin leaned in to the king and whispered, “Daphnes, there is something I do not understand.”

“Speak, friend,” said the king kindly.

“Master Rauru said that he was not the oldest among the Sages. Is he still…does he speak of Master Mudora?”

“You allow your eyes to deceive you. There is a Sage among them who is older and no less wise than even Mudora, Nayru keep him.”

“But, who…?”

“Master Aako,” replied the king.

* * *

When the sun set on the Arbiter’s Grounds a struggling prisoner breathed her last, impaled against a stone of obsidian by a sword of hardened light. It was said by those who saw the moon that night that it had turned to blood. In years to come the memory of that moon and cries of pain on the wind would haunt many to their graves. A legacy of treachery and punishment had begun.

Chapter II ~ Tournament of Hyrule

2008-03-14T10:26:00.008-05:00

1384 HR

“It has been ten years, Rauru. Ten years to the day.” Colin was kneeling before the altar of the temple. His longsword lay naked across it. Colin lifted his eyes to the gray stone Triforce over the sealed Door of Time.

“There is always hope, Colin,” said Rauru, lighting the candelabrum to one side of the Door. “We cannot give up hope.” He turned to look at the captain, resting the butt of his brass candle-lighter on the marble floor. Somewhere in the cloisters, the monks chanted their afternoon devotionals; the sacred music meandering through the temple, seeking ears to hear it.

The captain did not look away from the symbol of the Goddesses. “Hope,” he said, considering the word. Then he bowed his head and leaned forward, his hand to his breast. After a moment he stood, lifting his sword reverently from the altar and replacing it in its sheath. “Hope for what, I wonder…” he said, watching the cushion on the altar resume its natural shape, pushing out the indentation made by the sword. His eyes flitted over the three empty hollows set into the frame of the altar.

“Hope that they may be found…” said Rauru, tentatively, passing to the other side of the Door. He raised the lighter to the short, wax dripped candles.

“My wife and son are dead, Master Sage. I have known it since the survivors of her guard gave me the report.”

“You were given the report that they could not be found,” Rauru offered, “not that they had perished.” Rauru’s outline was lit from behind by the candlelight; a saintly figure looking all the more divine. A poetic coincidence, thought the captain, whose eyes had followed the sage to where he now stood. The captain arched his neck and ran one gnarled hand over his left shoulder, weary from burdens not entirely physical.

Colin sighed. “How long would you look?” he said finally, throwing his hand vaguely into the air.

“As long as I had to. The Goddess of Time is mysterious, but she reveals all,” said Rauru, reviewing Colin’s bent figure with compassion.

Shadow halved Colin's face as he turned away from the light of the candles. Rauru handed the lighter to one of the attendant monks who carried it ceremonially into the nearest side-chapel. In a moment the recess of Din’s Chapel brightened. Rauru folded his hands before him. “We do not wish for horrors, son,” said Rauru, “but the Goddesses give us too much for us not to be thankful for what we have...”

“And what do we have, Father Rauru of the Temple?” Colin hissed bitterly. “A fine sentiment from one who has no loved ones to lose.” Rauru did not speak, but turned to walk toward the cloisters. Now he was the picture of a martyr, thought Colin. He ran his hand through his stiff, sandy hair. “It was you who chose the cloth, not I, priest!” he called. Rauru stopped rigidly by one of the nave’s many columns, but did not turn. “I have seen death enough,” continued Colin. “I simply refuse to give myself more to mourn than I must. If I allow myself to believe they might still…” He waved at the air, opening his mouth, but no sound came out. A lump formed in his throat and lines of wetness streaked down his harsh face, half in the light of the candles. He ran his hand through his hair again and coughed the lump out of his throat. “I might have to…they…I don’t think I could survive if they died again.” He pressed his finger and thumb to his eyes.

“It is true I have no wife,” Rauru said quietly. “I chose to serve the Goddesses. But their joy is mine, their children mine. I may not have fathered a son; but I know the Goddesses are the source of all that is good—life, joy—and I know what it means to lose those you love.” Nayru’s Chapel brightened, softening the harsh shadow on Colin’s face.

Colin’s jaw hardened. He stooped to recover his shield from beside the altar, slinging it over his shoulder. “What do you know of love?” he said, and walked toward the entrance of the temple, pulling his cloth cowl over his head as he went.

“Master Captain,” called Rauru across the nave. Colin stopped, looking toward the vaulted ceiling. Rauru heard him exhale. “Even when those we love are gone, we can trust the Goddesses to keep them,” said Rauru. “They are not truly lost.” Light bloomed in Faroe’s Chapel.

Colin turned only halfway, not looking at the Sage. “I do not come here to pray for their return, Rauru. I come here to mourn. Can a man not mourn for his loss?”

“You may mourn if you wish, Colin, Captain of the Royal Guard. But your wife and son may not be dead.” Light issued from the final chapel and the monk who bore the brass lighter returned it to Rauru. The monk bowed and stood to one side. “Karin visited here often, if you remember. You were not the only one who loved her. Your son was blessed on this altar. I blessed him myself; you were there. I loved your son, Colin. I have loved every child of the Goddesses that has entered these walls. Who knows but that they might one day be found again.”

“I have had enough of false hope, Rauru. I have drunk it in like water in the desert, and still I am parched. I want no more of it. They are never coming back.” Colin ascended the steps at the end of the nave. When the doors of the temple were closed after him the attending monk turned to the Sage. He was only a youth, about fourteen.

“Father Rauru?” he said.

“Yes, Tobias?”

“Will we stay for the tournament today?”

“I think not. The captain has seen more of me than he pleases. I will let him alone to his thoughts. Besides, I have attended the tournament more often than I care to, I think.” They passed under the archway that led into the auxiliary hall.

“Master?”

“Yes, Tobias,” said Rauru, not unkindly.

“Do you really believe the captain's wife and son are still alive?"

Rauru paused at the alcove in the hallway. Set in the alcove was a wooden cabinet flanked by two lit candelabra. “Karin was always a determined young woman. She would hold on, even when things seemed impossible. If it was not so, she may not have married the captain.” Rauru smiled, reminiscing. He snuffed the candle-lighter. Then his face straightened as he gazed at the wisping smoke. “My heart does not wish to believe she is dead.” He soberly set the lighter inside the wooden cabinet and unbuttoned his red velvet mantle. He hung it on one of two hooks within the cabinet.

“And the boy?” said Tobias, removing his orange mantle.

“Oh, yes, Colin’s son is alive. I am certain.”

“But how can you be, Father?” said Tobias, hanging his mantle next to his master’s. Tobias’ expression was one of genuine interest.

“Because,” said Rauru, “when I blessed him the candles lit themselves.”

* * *

As Colin passed through the doors of the temple he took in both the even light of a cloudy noonday and the crisp, chilly air of a melting winter. He pulled his steel helmet firmly over his head and buckled the clasp below his chin. The doors of the temple closed behind him gently and he paused, staring at the cobbles of the temple yard. An armoured form stood beside the large stone planter to one side of the entrance doors.

“Captain,” said the young knight, flattening his hand as he touched his longest finger to his brow.

“Afton,” Colin replied, returning the salute briskly. Colin pulled his gloves from under his belt and slid his hands into them, fitting his fingers tightly into the leather.

“The captain is sufficiently prepared?” Afton asked, looking at the sky, the steps and the horizon before turning to the Captain. Colin nodded, but continued to clench one hand absentmindedly. After a moment Afton spoke again, his tone softer. “Permission to speak, sir?” When Colin did not answer Afton continued. “We come here every year, sir.”

“Yes. And?” said Colin, quietly, straightening his tunic.

“And every year you come out of those doors more upset than when you went in.”

“I'm not upset, Afton.”

“Then what do you call it, sir?”

Colin considered the knight for a moment. “Afton, how long have you been my second lieutenant?”

“Six years, sir. And proudly.” Afton stood straighter.

“In all that time have you known me to punish a man who did not deserve it?”

“No, sir.”

Colin stepped closer to the young knight. He chose his words; “I do not…Rauru means no harm, but…I won't avoid the temple just to avoid him. I need to mourn, Afton. I need to remember them. We need to remember them.”

Afton bowed his head. “I do remember my sister, Colin, Faroe keep her…”

“Oh, now you sound like the priest…” said Colin over him.

“…but I don't blame anyone for losing her.”

“Care for a walk, lieutenant?” asked Colin abruptly.

“Certainly, sir,” Afton replied, swallowing his words. He fell into step behind the captain. They marched away from the temple’s main doors, over the tightly set cobblestone path, and out of the grounds through the open iron wrought gate. Just outside the gate six other knights waited, standing in formation.

“Same as usual, men,” said Colin. “Let's give them a good show.” He drew his longsword and rested the flat of the blade against his shoulder casually. The six knights fell in behind Colin, marching in two rows with rapiers held beneath their chins, blades toward the sky. Afton followed suit, tucking the hilt of his rapier under his chin, and fell back to march point. The procession of knights weaved through the backstreets of Hyrule’s Castle Town, the steel of their spurs clinking, the weight of their boots falling loudly as they marched in rhythm toward the town’s central courtyard.

Anxiously, the crowds awaited the arrival of the captain, their king and queen. In the center of the courtyard was a grand fountain whose waters leaped up toward the clouded sky. Perched in its center was the stylized figure of a large stone owl with three triangles in place of its head. Some townspeople were sitting at the tables of the street café. Others were leaning out over the ledges of their stone balconies. Still others were huddled in groups near the shop awnings of the marketplace buying festive treats from the vendors, listening to the music of street performers, watching the jugglers, or chasing their restless children around the circular courtyard. But most of the citizens of Hyrule were gathered behind the coloured ropes that had been tied to the poles marking the boudaries of the parade. Even the soldiers, stationed at every gate, grew restless with waiting, their spears leaning lazily on their shoulders.

Suddenly, the soldiers at the eastern gate lifted their trumpets and let forth a military fanfare. Then the sound of clinking spurs and heavy boots came from the courtyard's eastern gate. Presently a procession of knights emerged from the gate led by Colin, the Captain of the Royal Guard. The jugglers paused, the singers quieted, and the crowds hushed as the knights marched up to the shallow steps before the great northern gate, forming staggered ranks with military precision. Colin stood on the lowest step, his longsword resting on his shoulder, while four of the knights stood a step above him (with Afton on the end), and the remaining three took up positions on the third step. Every knight stood at attention, their white tunics splayed with red birds, rapiers under their chins, looking like statues of the valiant heroes of old.

Then the two soldiers on either side of the north gate took up trumpets and blew a regal fanfare. Moments later the huge wooden doors of the northern gate swung inward and another set of trumpets echoed from somewhere beyond. The crowds lifted up cheers and whoops as the procession emerged. The first soldier to come out from between the doors was the ensign, holding aloft the flag of the royal family; a white ground with the red owl emblazoned on it, the head replaced by three triangles. After him came a vanguard of six soldiers, the two in front blowing their trumpets while the rest marched in step carrying straight spears and tall rectangular shields. Then the crowds of townspeople cheered louder to see their king emerge from between the doors. Daphnes wore his red coat, white breeches and high golden crown. He laughed joyfully in answer to the cheers of his people, lagging behind the soldiers as they made their way out of the gate and around to the other side of the great fountain. Flanking the king on four sides were the Darknaughts, heavily armored and highly trained knights of Hyrule; bodyguards of the king outside the castle walls. In addition to his rapier and shield, each Darknaught bore a heavy weapon; one a single-bladed axe, one a mace, one a thick-bladed scimitar, and the last a wide, double-edged sword.

So impenetrable was the armour of the Darknaughts and so immovable their bulk that they were thought of as extensions of the castle walls themselves. Unless a Darknaught was given cause to move they remained motionless and so the people regarded them as little more than obstacles to be avoided. If any person gave a Darknaught cause to move, however, a Darknaught's wrath commanded instant dread and respect. The Darknaughts were so called for their reputation that any evil—any dark designs that threatened their king—would come to naught so long as one of them stood. They were willing to give all, even their lives, to protect their king. It was for this reason that the king never had aught to fear so long as his guard was nearby.

Once the Darknaughts had escorted Daphnes to a chair waiting for him on the top step, they took up positions before him on the steps of the north gate. Then the soldiers flanking the north gate blew a new, solemn fanfare. Immediately the call was answered by another pair of trumpeters preceding four more soldiers. Behind these came four lean but knot-muscled men bearing a litter on their shoulders. Each of them was wrapped in frayed white clothes and wore light gray, soft-leather boots and forearm-sleeves. The ears of each Sheik bore small golden hoops and their heads and faces were swathed in strips of white fabric. Each Sheik bore a tattered flap of cloth over his chest bearing a single red eye with a tear below it; the symbol of the Sheikah people.

The Sheiks were the most disciplined and skilled of the Sheikah, who had vowed since the days of the War of the Golden Land to protect the daughters of the Hylian Royal Family. They excelled at stealth, surprise and intrigue, and it was said that the red eyes of a Sheik glowed like embers. The people mostly regarded them with fear and unease, for it was said that a Sheik could look into your soul and force you to face your deepest truths. They protected the queen out of duty, and a Sheik was known to treat all with the honor they deserved. It was for this reason that they bore the queen's litter, which they presently set on the top step of the north gate opposite the king's throne. Two of the Sheiks tied back the curtains of the litter to reveal the queen, Zethra, kneeling on her seat. She was clothed in her purple vest, white gown and golden belt and circlet. From her belt hung the apron of her station, bearing the red owl of the Hylian Royal Family. On her lap lay a small blue ocarina. When all was arranged, the Sheiks sat before the litter on the steps—each with back erect, limbs deceptively relaxed, their red eyes scanning the crowd, daring any to meet their gaze.

The king stood, quieting the cheering crowds. “Welcome! I bid you welcome to this, the Tournament of Hyrule!” he called out. The people cheered again. A line of men to one side of the north gate raised wooden practice swords high in the air and shouted, throwing their arms and waving at others in the crowd. “These,” called the king, indicating the line of men, “are the valiant few who are best in Hyrule with the sword! Today we shall see if any of these may best our own Captain!” Many in the crowd hollered taunts; some of the men whipped their swords around in anticipation. The Captain remained stone-faced, relaxed and unmoving. The crowd started chanting, calling for the tournament to begin.

“Yes, yes, at length,” said the king, “but all in it’s proper time. First, to the ceremony!” As the people looked anxiously toward their king, he raised a hand to his chest. Grasping a stone amulet that hung there, the king bowed his head theatrically. After a moment he raised it again and called out “The Sages have been summoned! Let us welcome the Sages of Hyrule!” And as the people cheered again, colored lights began swirling around in the air among the wisps of the gray sky.

The first to descend was a streak of green, landing in the courtyard in a bubbling mass of olive light that materialized into Aako, leaping and laughing, spinning and skipping in the air. He wore little brown shoes that laced up his feet, a green tunic with a brown cloth belt with a red tassel, and a short apron. On his head was a cap that looked like a large curled leaf and in his hand was a viola which he played as he danced. The people clapped and laughed with him and the children in the crowd stomped their little feet and jumped to the song of the Koroki Sage.

The next to fall was a shot of blue, materializing into Lutai, dressed in a magnificent netted gown of lavender with a red apron over her chest, a circlet of fishbone gracing her finned brow. She played her small fishbone harp. The ladies in the crowd all chattered about her fashion and soon they were too occupied to notice the large blob of red that formed the bulky mass of Gor Darmon, swathed like a wrestler, red tribal markings tracing his huge arms. He stomped and beat on his chest and drums, causing the ground to vibrate. The people were delighted every time the ground shook and laughter broke out when Davis, the large man running the shooting gallery, promptly fell over, visibly rattled.

A yellow light came from the sky and for a moment it was as if the sun had emerged from behind the clouds and fallen to Castle Town’s courtyard. The truth was swiftly revealed, however, as Rauru emerged from the yellow light wearing a golden belt over a white robe embroidered with golden thread. The a double-reeded horn hooted between his whiskered lips, calling the raucousness of the crowds to a lull, finally hushing even the children as they heard his melancholy tune. The Captain stared at the ground, as stone-faced as ever. When Rauru finished, the entranced crowds clapped at the performance, the Sages bowing in response.

“Thank you for welcoming the esteemed Sages with such enthusiasm,” called Daphnes from the top of the stairs. The people were attentive. “We recognize the absence of our loved friend Mudora, Sage of Shadow and former representative of the Sheikah people, passed these many years ago, Nayru keep him. We respectfully acknowledge the Sheiks of Kakariko as ambassadors to Hyrule.” The four lean men surrounding the queen’s litter bowed in unison, each placing their palms together. The king continued. “We also recognize the absence of the Sage of Spirit, as there have been none to come forward from the Gerudo since the time that the Traitor was discovered. As such we recognize Zethra, the Queen of Hyrule as the Seventh Sage, filling this vacancy in council since those dark times. Thus constituted, we shall begin the opening of the tournament.” From a loop on his belt the king pulled a baton made of ivory, carved and traced with curling shapes. As he raised it in the air, the Sages lifted their instruments to the ready. The queen lifted the ocarina from her lap and pressed it to her lips…

But instead of a song, a distant boom was heard over the crowd. Low and resonant, some whispered that it was an attack; others said it was the canon of some distant ship. Then another boom came; unmistakably from the south, toward the fields of Hyrule. It sounded like a great fist knocking on the outer gates of the city. The Darknaughts brandished their heavy weapons, while the Sheiks peered through the crowds toward the southern gate. The soldiers shuffled their feet and looked around nervously; the ensign gripped his flagpole with unease. The crowds grew restless, shifting like cattle in a branding pen. In moments, the mood had gone from festive to fearful.

The captain looked up to the king, who nodded. Colin stepped out into the courtyard toward the eastern gate. “Horse!” he called, and in moments one of the pages had brought him his dappled gray. Then Colin mounted and was gone through the southern gate.

Time passed uneasily, feeling much longer than it was, but in minutes Colin had returned. He dismounted at the base of the steps and approached the king, unobstructed by the Darknaughts.

“There is a Gerudo at the southern gate, my Liege,” Colin said.

“A Gerudo?” the king replied with obvious surprise. “Has she come to…?”

“It isn't a she, my Liege,” said the captain quickly.

Daphnes’ face straightened, comprehending. “By the Goddesses…what does he want?”

“He says he wishes to enter the gates of Hyrule to swear fealty to her king.”

The king tucked the baton back into his belt and signaled to the Sages. Faster than they had come, they were gone, streaks of coloured light whipping back into the gray late-winter sky. Then Daphnes looked to his wife. Zethra raised her head and narrowed her eyes, considering. She met the gaze of one of her Sheiks, who stared, unblinking directly into her eyes. He seemed to be fed somehow by her looking at him; into him. Then the Sheik stood, took the Ocarina from her, and disappeared in a puff of smoke that caused the crowd to jump. Zethra nodded to her husband.

Satisfied, the king turned back to Colin. “Let him in,” he said.

* * *

“Impa will help you keep it safe, my love. And pay your dreams no mind. Goodnight,” said the king. “Sleep well.”

After her father closed the door—when the curtains of Zelda’s bed-chamber had been drawn and all but her nursemaid had left—the young princess of Hyrule turned the clay instrument over in her hands. This was the legendary ocarina that had sealed the Door of Time, she marveled. Tucking it under her pillow, she spoke to her nursemaid.

“Impa, what if I dream about the clouds again?”

A tall, youthful woman with white hair stepped from the shadows. From her neck hung the symbol of an eye with a single tear. “Do not worry, young one. Your father will come to trust your premonitions.” Impa sat on the edge of the princess’ bed. “Come; let me sing you a lullaby.”

Chapter III ~ Challenges in the Wood

2008-03-14T10:19:00.004-05:00

Pudgy cloven hooves shuffled over the mat of pine needles that covered the ground near the edge of the forest. The wild boar snorted, nosing up the bark of an oak. Then, finding the flavorful fungus it was searching for, it began to dig at the soft ground with its tusks. Above the pig, hidden behind one of the tree’s large branches, was a pair of deep green eyes. As soon as the animal had begun feasting on its meal, a green-clad child fell from above and landed squarely on the boar’s dark brown back. Kicking his bare heels into the pig’s sides, the child yelped and the animal squealed throwing clumps of turf into the air as it reared and ran off between the trees. Suddenly a crowd of children sprang to life, green-clothed and leaf-capped, seemingly emerging from the trees themselves, cheering and squealing with laughter. And then the chase was on.

The boar wheeled, charged, bucked and stamped, but the child held tight to the animal’s tusks, his legs circling its belly. Further and further into the forest sped the steed and its rider, trees whipping by like blurred arboreal columns. The other children followed, their small feet carrying their small bodies swiftly over the mat of pine needles and into the denser brush of the deep wood. Their footing told of how they must have traveled these places often, and at great speed; toes touched the tops of roots only to leap swiftly away, paths were followed as soon as ignored, but none of the children were ever lost. Each of them followed the leader as easily as putting one foot before the other.

Then the ignorant observer would become aware that these children were something more than ordinary; for with seemingly no delay in their cheerful race the children appeared to leap directly into the trees that made up the forest, passing through them as surely as ghosts, emerging from another tree some way on in their path. In this way the green-clad children paced the daring child on his porcine steed. They surely could have surpassed him, but the fun was in watching him until he fell off—it was not a race after all, but sport!

These green-clad children were the Koroki; spirits of the forest, ever-young and always innocent, but old as time and some of them no less wise. Their lives were laughing and play, and never a care would cross their minds except what might make a good challenge for the other children. Once a challenge was made it was never questioned, and as soon as it was accepted it was attempted, and all the other children came to watch. Today Saria challenged Aako to ride a boar until he fell off, and she was naturally at the front of the crowd to watch him when he did.

The boar was tiring a little, which made it more reckless, and soon it slammed into a thick pine tree, throwing Aako’s curled Dekku-leaf cap from his head. Aako held on tighter, shook the daze from his head and tried to steady his deep green eyes on the swiftly traveling bracken. Then he had an idea.

Aako looked around at the crowd of children pacing him and made sure Saria was watching. Then he grinned impishly and pulled up on the boar’s tusks. The boar skidded to a halt in the mat of needles and reared, setting Aako on his feet for a moment. In that moment he leaned backward and twisted, landing the boar on its own four hooves, facing the opposite direction with Aako on its back again. The rush of children flew haphazardly around him, faces of surprise and glee flashing like little candles. Then Aako leaned forward, yelped in the face of his steed and they bolted off again.

The Koroki all squealed at this new spin on the game—now, instead of watch until Aako fell off, it was don’t let Aako get away. So all the children, including a disgruntled Saria who was now at the back of the childish mob, turned and chased after Aako’s quickly diminishing form. Once he could see the other children were following he slowed down a little, dragging his feet on the turf. Soon Saria had caught up, emerging from a tree to the right of Aako and hollering at him before disappearing into another trunk. “Cheater!” she yelled. “Unfair!”

“Fair, fair!” Aako hollered back from atop the speeding boar. “Smart!” And then he twisted the boar’s tusks hard to the right. Turning with Aako’s direction, the boar careened into the tree from which Saria had just emerged. Saria yelped and fell to the ground. Aako was thrown from the boar’s back and flew through the air, landing on top of Saria. They rolled together over a carpet of orange and red deciduous leaves, a mass of tangled child arms and legs, until they came to the edge of an incline. The other children watched as Saria and Aako untangled themselves with shouts of “Cheater!” and “Smart!” while the two kept trying to push the other down, smiling all the while.

The other Koroki caught on to this new game, too. Now it was push down Saria and Aako. So they all rushed the quarreling pair, knocking them over the edge of the incline, and then the larger tangle of children slid down the incline into the creek below. A few stragglers came to the edge of the incline only to push each other over, falling with the rest of them, giggling happily. At the bottom they all thrashed about, rolling in the shallow water until they were not green-, but mud-clad children.

Then a sound from nearby called all of them out of their reverie and froze them in place; a wagon was coming up the path. One of the children whispered hide, which, of course, became the new game. So all the Koroki pulled themselves out of the mud and scrambled toward the bridge that spanned the shallow creek. Just before the wagon came into view they were all nestled together under the bridge, shushing each other, covering their mouths and spitting mud.

At least, almost all of them. Aako was still standing in the middle of the creek. Another curious thing about the Koroki was that they might look like nothing in particular to normal folk. So Aako stood right where he was, looking like a child-shaped muddy stump, defying the others in their game.

Saria motioned to Aako to hurry, scooping at him with her hand. “Come!” she mouthed, but Aako stood firm, shaking his head and smiling surreptitiously. Then the wagon came out from behind the trees. It was small and had a door on the side which was painted in bright happy colors. 'Happy Mask Salesman' said the words painted on the door, and sure enough the wagon was covered all over with a variety of masks—wooden masks with tribal markings hanging from the railing around the top of the wagon, polished doll-like masks and scary masks nailed to the wagon’s outer planks, even a mask that had one large red eye with a tear below it hanging from the doorknob.

The wagon was pulled by a single pony, and its driver was a skinny man with squinty eyes and greasy red hair parted down the middle. He wore a long purple coat buttoned up over a matching set of trousers, pointed shoes that curled at the ends, and a smile that never wavered from the moment Aako set eyes on him. His pony was slowing down, favoring one of its hind legs. The wagon stopped on the bridge.

“What is it Tortus?” said the driver with a rough voice that belied his smiling face. Despite the sign on the door of the wagon and the man’s persistent smile, he sounded anything but happy. “What’s got into you?” The Koroki children held their fingers to their lips and Saria stood to look between the planks of the bridge. The driver lashed the reins to a bar in front of the seat and got out. “This is the last time I’ll travel with a pony,” the salesman said, placing his hands on his hips. He stood on the bridge a moment, stooping with a noticeable hunch. Then from further down the path there was a snort; it sounded like the boar had come to and was wandering aimlessly. The snort caught the salesman’s attention and he turned without removing his hands from his hips. “Well, now, Tortus, it may have been a good thing we stopped,” he said, never ceasing to smile.

The salesman watched as the boar began snuffling at the base of a tree near the path, just out of Aako’s sight. “Oh, so you’re that kind, are you?” said the salesman. “We haven’t got one of these, Tortus.” And the salesman turned and went to his wagon, opening the brightly painted door and fumbling with some things inside. He emerged with a long polished wand, painted a color that was clearly meant to match his coat and trousers but was actually a faded violet instead. The salesman walked calmly past his horse and hunched beside the boar which was still snuffling at the base of the tree. The salesman pointed his wand at the animal and for a moment Aako thought he was going to poke it, but instead the salesman waved the wand in a swooping motion over the boar. At the same time, the salesman began to hum a melody that Aako had never heard before. In a moment there was a squeal and a flash of purple light, and the salesman lowered his wand. Then he stooped and picked up something from the ground.

As the salesman turned to walk back to his wagon Aako could see that he was carrying a mask that looked remarkably like a boar with tusks protruding from the face. Tortus nickered. “Yes, very nice, I think, Tortus.” And the salesman placed his wand and his new mask inside the wagon, shut the door and got into his seat. “Shall we, then?” He was about to untie the reins when he paused and smacked his head. “Oh, now I remember, stupid horse,” he said and got out again. Kneeling down he examined the horse’s hind leg.

Just then one of the Koroki boys edged out from under the bridge and one of the little girls smiled after him mischievously. Saria saw the boy and tried to grab him by the back of his muddy green clothes, but he was already up the slope and watching the salesman to see if he would turn around. “Hold on, now Tortus, it’s almost out,” said the salesman, and the Koroki boy stepped lightly up to the wagon, snatched the closest mask he could reach and darted back under the bridge. The pony nickered. “There. It’s out,” the salesman said, and crawled back into his seat. He untied the reins and held them loose. Then he turned his head and looked straight in Aako’s direction.

“Don’t think I haven’t seen you, little one. I am no one from these parts; blind and stupid to your little tricks. And I’ll be back for my mask, you can be sure of that.” The smiling man clicked his tongue and snapped the reins. His pony went trotting away with the wagon in tow.

Aako stood still. Did the salesman think Aako had taken the mask? Did he know there were others? Aako had waited until the cart was almost out of sight. When the cart didn’t stop or turn, Aako ran up the slope and watched the wagon disappear into the trees. The boar was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

A small blue light hovered over Aako’s head. He and the other children had come straight back to tell the great Dekku Tree of what they had seen. The boughs of the great tree spanned the breadth of the clearing, the sunlight of midday filtering down through the tree’s wide, glossy green leaves. The ground hummed just before the tree spoke:

“Thou art certain the man left the forest?” said the huge tree-face.

“We are sure, Father Dekku,” a small voice said, coming from the ball of light hovering over Aako’s head. Delicate dragonfly wings stretched out of the light, twitching as they kept the blue ball aloft.

The ground reverberated and the tree spoke again. The air coming from its mouth smelled of rich brown soil. “Very well, then. It is to be seen what shall come of this. Have ye still the mask that was taken?”

A pale yellow light emerged from the crowd of children and the boy who took the mask walked meekly forward, the pale light trailing behind him. “We stole it,” said the fairy hovering over his head.

“Felso, hast thou the mask that ye have stolen?” the tree hummed.

In response Felso produced from behind his back a heart-shaped mask with large red eyes and tribal markings. The ground reverberated again as the tree pondered the mask. “This mask seemeth to me an evil thing. It should be returned to its rightful owner as soon as can be arranged. Felso, give the mask to Aako.” Aako received the mask.

For a moment the clearing was quiet, with little more than the hollow sound of a lazy breeze whistling across the subterranean wooden tubes that gave the great tree his voice. Father Dekku seemed to be pondering. Several Koroki children shifted their feet on the packed turf near the entrance of the clearing. Finally, the ground hummed and the tree spoke: “This is not the first time thou hast stolen, Felso. Thou hast been warned, and now thou must receive the fruits of thy deeds. For this thing which thou hast done, thou art banished to the Lost Woods.” The boy hung his head and his fairy drooped a little in the air, its pale yellow light dimming.

All of the other children mumbled in astonishment. Then one of the girls stepped forward boldly; her deep purple fairy emerged and spoke. “We dared him to, Father Dekku. It’s our fault.” The child’s jaw was set, her arms were folded across her young chest, and the light emanating from her fairy was steady and brilliant. The face of the tree bent and twisted so that it seemed to raise its eyebrows.

“The wrong he has done was not done by thee, Solfe,” the tree hummed. “Nevertheless, thou wouldst share his punishment?”

“Fair,” said Solfe.

“Thou must know that Felso’s guardian, Tatl, and thy guardian, Tael, shall remain with me and ye shall wander the forest alone. Art thou willing to do this on Felso’s behalf?”

“Fair,” Solfe repeated. Felso rotated his bowed head to look at Solfe. She smiled at him softly.

“Very well. It is a kind thing thou hast done to ease him in his loneliness. It shall be enough that ye are without the forest; soon that youth which I have given thee shall become as dry wood. Know that at length thy memories shall fail and ye shall not remember these, thy companions. Moreover thou shalt not remember thy misdeeds, but shall be innocent again, to start anew in the woods. Only once before has a Koroki child been banished to the Lost Woods, and though I loathe it, it must be done. I delight in your games and am pleased by your happiness, but mischief I cannot abide. Tael, Tatl, come to me.” The fairies obeyed reluctantly. They hovered to one side, near the tree’s gargantuan roots.

Felso and Solfe shivered before the other children like outcasts. To be without a fairy to them was like being without a soul. “Mido, wilt thou guide these to the borders of the Lost Woods? Return to me with haste,” said the Dekku tree.

A boy with a blue fairy stepped forward with a haughty air. Then he turned and marched out of the clearing by the entrance, the other children parting to let him through. Felso looked at Solfe timidly and reached for her hand. Her mouth twitched into an uncertain smile and they followed after Mido.

The Dekku tree spoke again. “Please, my children, return to your trees. Rest awhile. Then, when the weight of these things has lifted, I would that ye should play again. Go now and rest.” The children turned and left by the entrance of the clearing. Then, just as they had almost all gone, the tree called for Aako and Saria. They paused where they stood.

“Come forward, children,” the tree said.

They did so. “What is it Father Dekku?” said Saria’s fairy, which glowed a light blue.

“I have aught to tell thee. I sense a great evil approaching; a man…a man with hatred in his heart, and a lust for power. Aako, this is the man who came to Castle Town. Go to the temple behind the Lost Woods and bring me the Emerald so that we can be certain the Stone remains safe. Saria, you shall return to the bridge in the forest. Take with you the mask that was stolen. Remain hidden until the man from whom it was stolen should return for it. Be gone no longer than you must.”

Saria accepted the mask from Aako. Then Aako ran out of the clearing. Saria hesitated, looking down at the mask. Its red eyes seemed to stare straight into hers.

“What is it, dear one?” said the Dekku tree.

“Scary,” said Saria.

“Yes. I cannot fathom from whence it comes,” said the tree. “There is evil in that mask. It feels like the power of the Goddesses, but foreign; strange. Do not put it on, and do not let anyone else do so. I am certain that it is cursed.”

“Father Dekku?” said Saria’s fairy, “what became of the other one…the one that was banished?”

“Ah, yes. I have thought of him of late. He still lives in the woods, a shadow of what he once was. When he left the forest his once green clothes turned brown and orange, his youth became withered and dry, like twigs. He remembers nothing of his past life, and knows no joys in his present one, except perhaps music. For some time I felt him passing through the wood, following around the lost travelers and playing his flute for them. But they were frightened by him and they would flee from before him. Since that time he has grown bitter, and tries to scare away or mislead any who come near. I feared sending Felso away lest he should share a similar fate. But as Solfe has gone with him, I have hope that they might not…”

“Father?” said Saria’s fairy again.

“Yes, dear one?”

“What was the name of the one who was sent away?”

“Skulki,” the tree said, with an expression of remembered grief. “And his fairy was called Navi.”

Chapter IV ~ Race in the Caverns

2008-03-14T10:16:00.002-05:00

The gaping cavern thrummed constantly, the sound rumbling and bouncing off the walls, passing out of one great cave and into the next, making it seem like the earth was uttering one long, dissatisfied grumble. In truth, however, the Gorons were racing.

A train of boulders of assorted sizes rolled through the maze-work of tunnels that made up the Goron city. The tunnels were big enough to fit a horse and wagon, but in some cases the boulders only just slid through as they rolled on, as if it was they that had formed the shapes of the tunnels on their course through the living stone. The boulders, however, were closer to living stone than anything else in Hyrule. They were the Gorons themselves.

The fact that the boulders were not ordinary would have become obvious to the patient observer as they seemed to be able to roll up inclines that were too steep for them. One might blink in wonder, but so fast were the Gorons as they raced through caverns, over subterranean chasms, up natural ramps and through forests of stalagmites that to blink was to miss the whole race. It was at the end of the final incline that the assorted train of rocks all threw themselves off the edge of a gaping chasm far enough across to stretch ten men, and fell with practiced accuracy onto the subsequent decline, slowing down only when they rolled into the room designated for the end of the race—a room in the shape of a gigantic shallow bowl, ridged with the strata of countless races, ground smooth by countless stony backs.

The first to enter the circular finish room was one of the larger Gorons. He rolled around the edge of the room, tightening his orbit each time, until finally he dropped through the hole waiting for him in the center, landing some fifty feet below with an impact that made the earth shrug. When the large Goron unrolled he became an impressive giant—almost nine feet tall, his bulk of his torso contrasted by comparatively short, yet well-muscled legs, arms long and strong like an ape’s, and a wide, flat face rimmed with tufts of straight, wiry hair as brown as his skin, both of which camouflaged him well against the surrounding rock. His brown body and hair were wet with perspiration, making him look like a large, exquisitely carved, glossy sculpture. This was Gor Daruni, the chief of the Gorons and the champion of the Goron races.

No sooner had Gor Daruni landed than all of the other racers came falling down after him. The next to fall after the champion was a Goron almost as large as Daruni himself. Daruni deftly caught the massive living boulder and launched him away, hurtling him into the wall of the stone chamber, where the Goron rebounded harmlessly. Immediately following, in third place, was a very small Goron who was also rebuffed by Daruni with the stony knuckles of one thick fist. Gor Daruni resisted all of his competitors, batting away the smaller ones, catching and throwing those that were larger, even using some to deflect others who came quickly after. When they were all through the hole in the ceiling the floor of the cavern was whirling with rolling Gorons, grinding the floor in crisscrossing patterns, weaving deftly in and out of each other. Then Daruni bellowed triumphantly, beating his chest with his massive rock-fists. One by one the other racers responded with their own grunts and growls, unfolding and beating their chests like drums.

Gor Daruni’s victory shout echoed up to the stone balconies overlooking the cavern where all the other Gorons cheered for their champion, the sound vibrating through the walls of the stone hall as if the whole earth were quaking in jubilation. And the quaking was followed by the boom of stony hands on stretched leather as the spectators began to play on true drums. And then the Goron racers began to dance—and such liveliness and energy none could ever attribute to dead stone! But here were the Gorons, living statues, stamping their feet, throwing up their hands and clapping, shouting and drumming on their chests and legs and round bellies, laughing and cheering. Even Medigoro was there, his huge head nodding to the beat.

Medigoro was the second oldest Goron in the city and had grown so huge that he could only fit his head into the Goron caves. He got around by traveling through special tunnels which had been excavated from the surface. Medigoro had joined his brothers at the end of the race to witness Daruni’s victory, but he quickly had to return to his work making ‘knives,’ which were, in reality, swords as tall as men. It took him many years to craft one ‘knife,’ and so he set aside little time for anything else. After some time watching the racers dance, Medigoro grunted to his brothers, clapped his hands twice to show he had enjoyed himself (knocking some of the smaller Gorons to the ground with the shockwave) then turned and rolled away through his tunnel, back to his furnace and bellows.

When the dancing was over, the other Gorons all rolled back to their caves, tired and joyful. Only a dozen or so Gorons lingered.

* * *

“You gave a good race, Darmon,” said Gor Daruni heartily as he smacked the back of the Goron who took second place. “You gave me very little chance to catch you this time.”

“I am not as young as you, Daruni, and I am getting stiff in the joints,” said Gor Darmon, stretching his stony back with the sound of shifting rocks. “I could beat you when you were as old as Garnus, there. Oi, Garnus, good race!” he bellowed, beating his chest toward the small Goron who took third. Garnus beat his chest at Darmon and smiled in response. Garnus had been speaking to a few other Gorons, all of whom were bigger than he. They treated Garnus with visible respect.

“I remember those days well, brother,” said Daruni, grinning. It was custom for the Gorons to call each other ‘brother’ even though there were certainly fathers and sons, uncles and nephews. It was perplexing to most other races how the Gorons continued, seemingly without a female of the species. The stony people were as much flesh and blood as rock, to be sure. They consumed minerals, certainly, which explained why deposits of minerals grew out of their backs and arms and hands. As time passed Gorons would become old, aging visibly and eventually they would die. New Gorons would appear, young and vibrant, and eventually they would grow up. But no one knew where the young Gorons came from, or why they designated themselves as fathers and sons. It didn’t seem to concern the Gorons, in any case. Whatever they were, they all thought of each other as brothers, and cared for their tribe as much as any family.

Daruni and Darmon took advantage of the walk back to their caves, the time it took to roll there being miniscule by comparison. As the joyfulness of the celebration dissipated, Daruni’s face grew more serious. “Has your grandson chosen who will lead him into the crater when he comes of age?” Daruni asked.

“No,” said Darmon. “It has been so long since his father went into the fires of the mountain to contain the dragon Volvagia. Garnus never realized why his father didn’t come back. I have wondered how to tell him the truth, but I can never find the right moment. He still thinks of his father as the great Goron hero who defeated the dragon.”

“This is why he retains his father’s hammer…” said Daruni.

“Yes. It is all the young one has. He keeps it in the hope that his father will come back to reclaim it some day. He looks forward to a time of great need for our people. He tells me of the Sheikah prophets who say that a hero will be chosen to fight the great evil. He thinks it will be his father, returned from his adventures.”

“Does Garnus know it will be a child who fulfills the prophecy?” Daruni asked.

“No, Daruni, only we Sages know of those things, and I have only been permitted to share them with you because you are our chief. I have not told my grandson, even as close as we are.”

“You are the closest thing he has to a father, Darmon.”

“I know,” Gor Darmon replied. They walked silently for some time. The spectator’s path wound up and around the track, through a wide cavern into which spilled a cascading streamlet of lava, lending warmth and a moody red hue to the chamber. Gorons are highly tolerant of heat due to their thick skins and rocky exteriors. It was for this reason that they were able to utilize the lava that flowed naturally through the mountain for light and heat, as the mountain was actually an active volcano. Beside the lava stream they walked, a pair of waddling statues, between the stalagmites that jutted out of the cavern floor like tall pointed teeth.

Daruni spoke. “Darmon, I have been thinking about Garnus’ place in the tribe…”

“Yes, brother,” said Darmon, respectfully. Though Gor Darmon was the older of the two he treated Gor Daruni with deference when it came to matters of the tribe.

“The tribe thinks much of him. They look to him as someone destined to be great among us. It may be best to take away his father’s hammer.”

“But Daruni,” said Darmon, not defiant, but curious, “it was you who gave it to him, you delved into the crater to search for his father, you who retrieved the hammer when our hero could not be found. It was you who gave the tribe hope when you told us that our brave brother had vanquished the mighty dragon. Garnus holds to that hammer in remembrance of hope.”

“I know, Darmon, but his hope is in a father that will never return…” Gor Darmon was quiet. His face showed the conflict within as he waddled alongside his younger ‘brother.’

“Yes, Daruni, I see. It may be better to take the hammer from him.” Darmon’s small black eyes peered into the red light.

“I will keep it safe, Darmon, you have no need to fear for that.”

“It is not that, Daruni, you know I trust you…”

“Then what is it, brother?”

Darmon shook his wide head. “Nothing, brother, nothing…I just wonder who he will choose to take him into the crater…”

Now Daruni was silent. Then he said, “I would not want to replace you, Darmon. You know I simply wish your grandson to find his own hope; a firm hope.”

“Yes, Daruni, you are wise.” Then Gor Darmon chuckled, sounding like sliding gravel. Gor Daruni stopped, thinking Darmon was laughing at him. “I am sorry, I am sorry, brother,” said Darmon quickly. “I simply thought of one who Garnus could not choose.”

“Who is that, brother?”

“Medigoro.” And they both laughed like a grumbling landslide.

* * *

By the time the ‘brothers’ neared the center of the Goron city the quality of the light had changed. The lava flow had drained into a hole in the wall to light and heat some other part of the Goron city, and before them the wall was lit by a cooler, crystalline red. As they rounded a corner, the red glow crept around the stalagmites to greet them. When the city came into full view the source of the light became clear: a ruby the size of a man's fist was set in a hole the ceiling through which all of the main cavern’s light was filtered. The light came from a long shaft cut into the rock which opened out high above the clouds at the peak of the mountain.

The ruby lit an enormous spherical chamber. Landings ribbed the chamber, each cut into the rock face, accessible by ramps that threaded out of the chamber and back in at lower or higher levels. On each level there were varying sizes of caves hewn, some of which had small gardens of the ‘Goron special crop,’ a bulb-like plant aptly named the “bomb flower.” The single flower of the plant was connected to seeds within the bulb that would become volatile if disconnected from one another. The resulting chemical reaction gave one only a few seconds before the bulb exploded. The Gorons used these plants to speed their mining operations and were naturally kept only in small batches as a field of them would prove impractically hazardous.

Gor Daruni paused at the entrance to the main cavern. “The Stone shines brightly today, doesn’t it, Darmon?” he said.

“Yes, very bright, brother,” Darmon replied, admiring the ruby. Then he grew thoughtful. “Daruni?” he said.

“Yes, brother.”

“It has been nearly ten years since I placed that gem. Do you suppose the prophecies will prove true soon?”

“I do not know brother,” replied Gor Daruni. “But Din will protect us when the time comes. We need not worry.” The report of distant explosions echoed into the cavern. Daruni rolled his small eyes. “That will be Garnus being careless around my garden again.”

“Go easy on him, Daruni,” said Gor Darmon, grinning widely. “He only wants to congratulate you.”

“I’ll gladly take third place myself if he can keep from setting off my flowers. It’s a good thing they grow back so quickly.” And with that Gor Daruni curled up and was rolling down from one landing to the next, passing curious Gorons who had come out to see what was happening. In moments Daruni was at the base of the chamber, entering the tunnel that led to his cave.

Darmon looked up to the ruby again when the Goron chief was gone. “Perhaps you are right, brother. May Din protect us.” As Darmon turned toward his cave, a younger Goron rolled up to him from one of the tunnels that led to the surface.

“Brother Darmon,” the young Goron said, unfolding, “there is a man outside waiting to see Gor Daruni. I didn’t let him in. He said the Dongo Caves have been blocked by boulders.”

Gor Darmon’s wide mouth hung open for a moment. The mines in the Dongo Caves were the Goron’s main source of food. They would not be able to survive for long without access to them.

“Who is it?” Darmon asked.

The young Goron’s eyes widened meaningfully. “He says he is the Lord of the Gerudo.”

* * *

As night fell on Koroki Forest, a chilled breeze whistled past the tree-house of a young green-clad boy. At first the child seemed to sleep soundly. Then he shivered in his swinging cot, tossed and slipped back into uneven dreams. A dark cloud crept over the forest. By morning events would be set in motion that would spell irrevocable change for the Koroki and doom for the guardian tree they called ‘Father.’

Chapter V ~ Diplomacy at the Waterfall

2008-03-14T10:09:00.003-05:00

Far in the southwest of Hyrule lay the vast Lake Hylia, home to many varieties of fish, a prime place to observe aquatic life, and, far below the surface, the location of one of the six temples of Hyrule. This temple was arguably the most difficult to access, being entirely underwater. This posed no difficulty for the Zora, however, as the fishy race was as accustomed to life in the water as out of it. But the Zoras did not live in the great Hylian Lake. They lived as far away from their place of worship as any race in Hyrule could. For a Hylian the distance would mean an intensive pilgrimage, but for a Zora the trip to their domain in the far northeast of Hyrule would be an hour or two at a good swim. This was accounted for by their knowledge of all the subterranean waterways between the temple and the domain and an uncanny ability to swim against the current at great speed. It was said among the Hylians that currents simply didn’t exist for Zora folk; they could fly through the water like a bird through the air.

Following the maze of aquatic passages from the temple in Lake Hylia, a Zora could enter any river, access any stream, or swim in the moat of Hyrule Castle itself. Passing all of these, ascending the thick, rapid-flowing rivers, one would come to the mountainous region that the Zora people called home; a series of expansive watery caverns and mountain lakes, all connected by channels and tunnels, bounded by underwater gates.

There, from the gaping mouth of the large cavern at the height of Zora’s Domain, bubbled the waters of a lake-sized natural spring that spilled out in a mighty waterfall and passed through the many naturally-carved paths which were managed by the Zora people. The maintenance of these waterways determined whether Hyrule would receive clean water.

To the Zoras water not only sustained life, but served as their primary means of trade. The Zoras could not by any means stop the water from flowing, but as they lived in the water it was incumbent upon them to be certain that it remained pure, and this satisfied the needs of most of the other races in Hyrule. Their most beneficial pact had been made with the Hylians, with whom they had formed an alliance. The king of Hyrule offered to help the Zoras preserve their way of life and ensure that they remain relatively undisturbed. In return the Hylian kingdom was always provided with good clean water and the defensive benefit of a full moat.

The cavern at the height of Zora’s Domain served not only as the source of all of Hyrule’s water, but also as a meeting place for the Zora people and the throne room of their king. Steps led out of the water on all sides to a horseshoe-shaped walkway that circumvented the bubbling spring. Presently, a Zora sentry stood at the base of these steps, shifting impatiently before the king’s throne.

The king of the Zoras sat back in his coral chair, pensive. The bulk of his heavy body made him look like a reclining jellyfish, but his features more resembled those of a lobe-finned fish. Like all Zoras his skin was a pale blue and he had flippers for feet and webbed hands. In general, the Zora people never wore clothing, but had developed folds of scaly skin that sometimes resembled cloth. Overall they had a kind of androgynous beauty; rarely would individuals have more distinguishing features. The king was one of the rare Zora, however; small fishy eyes were set on either side of his head in true fish-fashion and cresting his head was a short fin-ridge that reddened at the edges.

“There is someone at the base of the waterfall, Sire,” repeated the Zora sentry, hoping the king would respond this time. The sentry tapped the butt of his bone spear on the steps nervously.

“Is it the Haired King?” the king of the Zoras finally asked. It was not a derogatory term; at least no more than it was for the Hylian King to say ‘the Scaled King.’

“No, Sire. He would not identify himself, but said that his message was urgent and that he preferred to deliver it and his introduction to you himself. Shall I admit him?”

“No,” said the Zora king, looking absentmindedly at the steps that led from his throne into the deep pool of water before him. “I will go out to him myself.”

The sentry raised his visor of his fishbone helmet to reveal an incredulous look. “But…but Sire you said…I can ask him to leave…we…he could come again when you are…more available,” the sentry stammered.

“Krelian, I have never been more available.” The king did not even smile. A sick spot settled in the sentry’s stomach. He lowered the faceplate of his helmet.

“King Zora, your majesty…the diving contest…With all due respect, you could have one of the dukes…”

“I will go myself, thank you,” said the king, and he rose from his throne and slipped into the water as if he was taking a bath; cautiously, feet first.

It had been some years since Delphineas Zora, king of the Zora people, had lost his wife. His people had shared his sadness and did all they could to alleviate the burden of arranging the affairs of the kingdom while the king was in mourning, the dukes and their advisors taking on much of the mercantile responsibility and caring for the waterways that supplied Hyrule with its water. The king did show some signs of improvement after the first year, although he had grown physically larger for lack of activity. He left most of the governing arrangements where they lay and soon he was viewed as more of a figurehead than a ruler. The people looked after themselves, mostly, and as King Zora had allied himself with the king of Hyrule many of the decisions regarding policy and procedure were simple enough to be handled in council with the Hylians.

Despite his acquired reputation for laziness King Zora’s people still loved him. His rare joy was being the mediator of the monthly diving contests (the latest of which had been due to start as soon as the king reached his seat beneath the waterfall) but he did little else recreationally. It was unusual that King Zora ever went swimming, except to keep himself damp, which was necessary for the Zora people, and this was why it was so shocking for the sentry to see him dip into the water as if he had done it just yesterday and volunteer to go out to meet a visiting dignitary over attending the diving competition which waited on his attendance.

King Zora swam remarkably well for a person who was both large and out of practice. While he appeared squat out of the water, he was graceful and respectable-looking in the water, the whole of him being regarded as a small agile whale of sorts. The king pulled his finned head under the surface and slipped through the water-bearing channel of his domain, his small fishy-eyes seeking the outlet of the giant waterfall from whence all of Hyrule’s water flowed. Just when he reached the edge of the waterfall, the current snatched him and threw him out into the air. The other Zoras looked up from the mountain-walled lake below and watched as their king hit the surface of the water with a massive splash. Then the king did something he had not done for years—he swam across the lake and out into the sluice that drained into the lower reservoirs; he was going outside the domain.

The king followed the water’s course under a natural bridge. He surfaced near the middle of the reservoir, pushing his head silently above the surface of the water. All around him were lush green mosses and grass covering the numerous shelves of rock protruding from the mountainside. The air was warm and the dragonflies were humming. And standing upon the natural stone bridge spanning the sluice was a man clothed entirely in black, from his boots to his buckles. A long tattered cape made of faded cloth hung from his shoulders. His thick leather jerkin was covered in dust, making it appear not black, but a dull gritty brown. Ostensibly, the man may never have touched an ounce of water in his life, and this was not far from the truth. This was Ganondorf Dragmire, king of the enchanted thieves known as the Gerudo, a desert-dwelling people who had seen about as much usable water as males in their homeland. And though the Zora king had never met the man, he knew from his reputation that the king was vile and cruel. Nevertheless, the noble Zora wished to meet the Lord of the Gerudo personally, and he pulled himself out of the water and sat on the bank. Apparently hearing the water splash, Ganondorf turned, flourishing his cape.

“Ah, the mighty king of the Zoras!” said Ganondorf, inclining his torso in a deep bow. “I am honored to find myself in your very presence. I had thought you might invite me in…You are well, I hope…?” The Zora king raised his ungainly bulk to a standing position and waddled up the slope of the bridge to where the king of thieves was. He said nothing as he approached, but he noticed that the desert king’s red hair, which he could see very clearly as it was pointed directly at him, was wild and littered with sand.

The Zora king took more than a moment to let the sight of Ganodorf sink in. If anything it only made the desert man hold his penitent pose, and the Zora king was interested in seeing how long he would stay that way. Would he break silence or courtesy first? King Zora discovered shortly that it was silence, for Ganondorf repeated his question. “You are well,” he said, raising his head to look at the king, “I hope?” King Zora noticed that even the man’s eyes and the edges of his mouth were caked with dirt.

“No better off than you it must seem,” King Zora finally said, and sat down again on the bridge of rock. “You come all this way to the domain of water and yet you do not drink. Water flows all around you and yet you have not bathed.” The Zora king stared out into the clear blue waters of the reservoir. “Surely I cannot tell if he is a fool to whom I speak or a man too courteous to stay his thirst after a long journey. Come man, drink. At least wash your face so you are something to look at.”

Ganondorf stood upright, straightening his dusty jerkin. He spoke with an air of devotion: “On the contrary, o’ king, it is neither foolishness nor courtesy that stays me from these waters, for when I set out from my desert country to visit the very king of the great water people I vowed I would not slake my thirst until I found myself in his company at the height of the great waterfall that crowns all of Hyrule!”

“Well, you certainly have one of the two Lord Ganondorf…”

“His esteemed majesty knows me before I introduce myself, may his scales never dim!” said the Gerudo Lord, bowing as well as he could to the sitting figure.

“At least you had the sense to raise yourself up again, Sir Dragmire, though as for knowing you before you introduced yourself, your villainous name and heartless reputation would precede you anywhere…” Ganondorf looked as if he did not know whether to take this as a compliment. The Zora king went back to watching the water. “And if you had waited much longer to introduce yourself I might have thought you were waiting for a moment to wish for my scales never to dim. But then, a man as cunning and cruel as the true Lord Ganondorf would have no need for such pleasantries to win influence.” The Zora king turned to look at his guest. “Did you have some object in coming to visit ‘the very king of the great water people’ or was this simply a social call?” asked King Zora pointedly.

It looked as if Ganondorf would have said something, if he did not just get a better idea. “His majesty has cut me to the quick…May I sit with you?”

“I have long since sat, sir. You may do as you please,” said the Zora king, unmoving.

Ganondorf gathered his cloth cape around him and sat beside the squat fish-king. “I had thought, dear king, that you had received word that I shall pledge fealty to the king of the Hylians tomorrow. It has long been an age of enmity between our peoples and I have hoped to rectify the reputation that precedes me. In the meantime I have taken to visiting the nearby races to offer my good will to them. Was this not obvious to his majesty?”

“Not quite as obvious as the deliberateness of the dirt caked on your face and clothes, dear Lord Ganondorf. Perhaps you would not think this king familiar with the visual qualities of his own dried mud? We traffic more than water and fish here,” said King Zora, grasping one of Ganondorf’s wrists and turning the palm of his dirty hand face up. “If you will notice, there is a slight sheen to it.” Ganondorf brought his hand to his face as if he had never seen it before. “Very popular among the potters of the castle town in Hyrule,” King Zora continued. “I suspect you carried a bag of sand with you all the way from the desert as well so that you could encrust your hair with it prior to meeting me. What I cannot surmise is what the infamous Lord Ganondorf is doing on my doorstep, as the Hylians say, for I cannot assume it is simply to show me your ‘good will’.”

Gradually the desert king’s face became less and less readable until it was perfectly blank. Then he seemed to take on a guilty air, as a child who has been found out for a ruse he was playing at. Ganondorf removed a leather bag from his belt and opened it a little, dropping it on the mossy stone between them. It was filled with sand.

“I would accept your good will, if that is what you claim to offer,” said the Zora king, “nevertheless before we enter my domain I hope we can at least be forthright with each other. If you will please disarm yourself…”

This time the Gerudo lord did not seem caught-in-the-act, but sincerely taken aback. Nevertheless, he reached behind him, under his cape, and removed a small dagger in a sinister-looking black leather sheath. Raising his hand to indicate he had something more, he stuffed his fingers into his boot and pulled out another blade, similar in appearance to the first, but longer. He raised them both in one fist so they could be easily seen and set them down beside the bag of sand with a look that said ‘ah, well.’ King Zora never flinched. After studying each other for a moment, Ganondorf waiting for some response of acceptation, King Zora quietly patient, Ganondorf stood. “Shall we?” Ganondorf asked.

“Certainly,” King Zora replied, and lifted his fishy bulk from the stone bridge. “Since you have declined to drink I suppose I will not need to offer again, but permit me while I dampen my fins,” and he dove into the reservoir with a large splash. Ganondorf looked after him to see where he went, and in moments the Zora had swum up the sluice against the current and was standing on the stone path on the other side of the bridge.

“Well, are you coming, Ganondorf, Lord of the Gerudo?” The Desert Lord left behind his two blades and he and the Scaled King walked up the stone path that protruded from the stone face, never the one getting ahead of the other.

* * *

The waters gushing over the edge of the waterfall cascaded almost a hundred feet, dividing into countless smaller rivulets that slapped and sprayed when they hit the surface of the lake below. The Zora on top of the waterfall stretched both arms out and flared his pectoral fins to show he was ready. When King Zora nodded, two stones hit each other with a crack and the diver leaped off the waterfall performing a complex twist of movements and passing through the sheet of water below with little more than a sloop! Then an air of expectancy permeated the mountain-walled enclosure and seconds later the diver emerged at the surface again holding up a large, clear purple stone. “Nine seconds!” came a shout from the base of the waterfall and the crowd of Zoras on the landings around the lake erupted in cheers and hollers. “Hoorah, Gluto!” “Good show!” they called.

“And how much was that one worth?” asked Ganondorf politely, sitting cross-legged beside King Zora near the base of the waterfall. It looked as if he loathed the liquid and had no interest in touching it. Conversely, King Zora’s flippers were swishing lazily in the water.

“Fifty points for the stone,” answered the fish-king, watching the contestant as he leaped out of the water, dolphin-like, “and fifty for making it in time. It is yet to be seen how much his form wins him.” Ganondorf appeared to listen with polite interest. The diver took his purple stone to a stand where a slightly smaller orange stone and a larger red stone were already placed. On either side were two other stands; one that held two red stones and an orange, and another with only two purples.

“That was the last of the purple stones,” the Zora king continued, “the only stones higher than that are the two oranges and the blue. As it stands the duchess will need a stone worth at least a hundred in order to win.” The thief-king was still listening, but he was no longer watching. “The oranges are 100 each, but both are already taken,” said King Zora, “and the blue is 200. So far none have been able to reach the blue in less than ten seconds in a contest, but I have seen Lutai do it in twelve while she practices. Look, here she comes.” But Ganondorf did not notice. He was peering into the depths of the lake, searching for something.

Atop the waterfall, from behind a curtain of coral colored weed stepped a lithe, athletic female Zora. She made the indication that she was ready, the stones cracked, and she jumped. She twisted and flipped and her arm-fins were out, then in, then sloop! and everybody waited. Four seconds. Eight. Then just as it seemed she wouldn’t make the surface in time she leaped straight up out of the water and the cry came “ten seconds!” For a moment the voice of the crowd seemed stopped in their throats as they looked for the color of the stone amid the thrashing water. Then somebody shouted “it’s blue!” The Zoras whooped and cheered and clapped and Ganondorf looked intently at the diver as her webbed hands disclosed a shining clear blue stone, the smallest of all.

“Hah! Bravo, bravo,” the Zora king cheered, clapping. He noticed the way Ganondorf was staring, but quickly pretended not to. “Would you like to meet our winner, Ganondorf?”

“Why, meet the winner?” said Ganondorf, smiling wickedly at the sight of the stone. “I’d be delighted.”

King Zora called Lutai over to the ledge. She quickly dove under the surface and leaped out of the water, rolling onto the green moss-covered ledge and springing to her feet. She was still holding the blue stone. Now that Ganondorf could see her better he noticed that high on her fishy head was a pair of false eyes, and she had fins growing from her shoulders, elbows and knees.

“Ganondorf Dragmire, may I present my wife’s sister, Lutai, duchess of the Zora. Lutai, I met Lord Dragmire without the waterfall this morning.” Lutai gave her king a furtive glance before putting one foot forward and tipping her head, splaying her fins and webbed hands, as per the Zora’s manner of greeting one respectfully while standing.

Ganondorf stood and cast aside his cape in one motion. “Enchanted. Congratulations, my lady,” he said, bowing. “I wonder…may I see the winning stone?”

Lutai looked to her king. He smiled knowingly. “I have not won formally, yet, Lord Dragmire,” said Lutai kindly, handing the desert-king the clear blue stone. “The judges have yet to announce the points awarded on my form.”

“Nonsense, Lutai. Your form was impeccable as usual,” said the Zora King, his flippers splishing in the water.

Ganondorf turned the egg-sized blue stone over in his hands. Other than being of particularly good cut it was not remarkable. “Tell me, Lutai, is this the Zora’s Sapphire?” he asked. A shock of electricity seemed to pass between King Zora and Lutai.

Lutai did not need a cue from her king this time. “The Zora’s Sapphire? You must be knowledgeable indeed to know of that sacred stone.” It was obvious she was avoiding his question. King Zora thought he saw Ganondorf trembling for a moment, gripping the blue stone in his hands a little tighter, but when the desert-king spoke there was no sign of terseness in his voice.

“Ah, yes, I have learned much from the king of these blessed lands,” Ganondorf replied, glancing around at the lake and its mountain walls. Then he looked directly at King Zora, smiling with all of his teeth. “His majesty, the king of Hyrule tells me many things regarding the affairs of the water people.”

This sobered the Zora king. Lutai’s posture stiffened. “And what, pray, does our esteemed ally relate regarding our people?” she asked.

“Oh,” Ganondorf began, mocking pity, “he spoke of the unfortunate state of your patron deity, the Great Fish Jabun. I hear the creature is a little…green around the gills, shall we say?”

The fish-king responded to the word ‘creature’ with the Zora approximation of a frown. “No, Ganondorf, you must be mistaken. Jabun the Wise is quite well. My daughter Ruto related nothing out of the ordinary when she returned from his alcove this morning. She attends him regularly to leave offerings and would have told me if he were ailing in any way.”

Ganondorf noticed Lutai folding her arms behind her back, her elbow fins bending slowly toward her hands. He could see they had keen edges like the blade of a sword and tips sharp like daggers; they would be dangerous if she was angered any further. But he pretended not to notice.

“Does she now?” Ganondorf said. “I see. In any case it may also interest you to know that the King of Hyrule has asked that I request the Sapphire of you to present to him tomorrow when I swear my fealty.”

“And why would the king of Hyrule have you bear the Sacred Stone of the Zoras away from its rightful land?” asked the Zora king.

“Consider it a sign that you have accepted my good will, o’ mighty King Zora,” Ganondorf responded, bowing shortly.

“I have accepted nothing of the sort, and you have offered less, Lord Dragmire. Furthermore, it is not in keeping with courtesy to call the deity of the water people a ‘creature’. If you will please return the stone you took you may leave here empty-handed or you will be driven away by force,” King Zora said calmly holding out his webbed hand for the stone.

“But I gave it back to you, o’ king,” said Ganondorf, drawing his cape around himself, concealing the leather pouch he had at his waist.

“Did you? I do not seem to remember that,” answered the king. “If I had it then I would not find it in that leather bag you have at your waist, would I?”

“Why no, good king,” replied Ganondorf. Pulling the pouch from his belt, he opened it and reached inside. Withdrawing his hand, he waved casually, throwing small granules out into the water. “It is but sand,” he said. And surely the grains still fell from between his fingers.

“Curious,” said King Zora. “You live in a desert and yet carry not water with you but bags and bags of sand…if it is what you say, that is, and not some sorcery…”

“What accusations, good king! First I shall be forced to leave and then I am charged with bringing sorcery past your borders. Even if it were sorcery, I have shown that I do not retain your stone,” said Ganondorf decisively, brushing the remaining debris from his palms.

“Then you have no reason to remain here,” said the Zora king. “Go now or be driven from this place.” Suddenly Ganondorf became aware that a score of sentries stood poised on a dozen landings above and around him, their white bone javelins ready. He wisely did not doubt their accuracy, but backed away from the king with hands out at his sides.

“Very well,” Ganondorf conceded with a scowl. “I suppose I have somewhat to tell the king of Hyrule concerning the hospitality of the fish people; as cold as they are wet. Do call for me if anything should happen to your fish-god, Jabun. It would be a shame if he were to accidentally swallow his attendant…” Ganondorf’s sinister mouth curled at the edges.

Lutai noticed that her king was shaking slightly. “Go. Now,” the fish-king repeated. The Gerudo lord turned with a sweep of his cape and walked away from Zora’s domain. Never did he turn until he was gone from the place. Only then did Lutai relax her fins.

“Lutai,” said the king, “summon Gor Darmon. Have him block the ground entrances to the domain.”

“At once,” she replied, and in moments she was passing through an opening at the bottom of the lake.

“Krelian,” the king called. There was a splash and in another moment the Zora had jumped out of the lake, dolphin-like, at the king’s side. “Post your sentries at every entrance to the lake,” the king said. “None may enter unless they can prove they are sent from the Hylian royal family.”

“It shall be done, Sire,” he said, and he turned to the nearest sentry, clapping his pectoral flippers to his sides. The sentry jumped to action, shouting orders to the remaining Zora guards.

After a pause Krelian turned to the Zora king. “With your permission, Sire?”

“Yes, Krelian?”

“Why did you decide to leave the domain today?”

“It was good for me…” the king replied.

“But why today?”

The Zora king sighed. “We can only mourn for so long, Krelian. I have mourned for years and I have grown lazy. My heart had grown cold…it was time for me to shake off the ice and wake up.” Krelian pondered this while he watched the other sentries taking up their positions. Then the king spoke again. “What the Gerudo man said about Jabun made me burn inside, Krelian. What he said about Ruto…I do not know what I would do if I were confronted with the man who hurt my family…if he does anything to my daughter…”

“We will be here, Sire. We will not let any harm come to her.”

“Thank you, Krelian. I am sincerely grateful for your loyalty. I certainly do not deserve it.”

“No more than any of us deserve loyalty, Sire. But we give it to you, and we give it freely. You are our king.” And for the first time in years, Delphineas Zora felt like a king again.

* * *

“He took the stone?!” bellowed Gor Darmon, pausing in his hurried waddle. His rough voice grumbled through the cavern.

“It was just the diving stone from the contest, Darmon!” said Lutai, patting his huge stony arm. “You know I would not let him take the Sapphire.”

“Does he know it is not the Sapphire?” he asked, relieved. He began waddling again toward the cave exit. Lutai followed, easily keeping pace.

“I do not know. It was a battle of wits, Darmon; it was difficult enough to get him out of the domain without killing him.” It was awkward for them to travel together. Lutai could not run as fast as Gor Darmon could roll, yet he could not walk as fast as she. Haste demanded it, however, if they wished to talk while they traveled.

They came to a steep rocky ledge that would have brought progress to a halt for a Zora. “On my back,” said Darmon and Lutai obeyed, wrapping her finned arms around his neck. “The Desert Man was not so eloquent when he came to us,” said Gor Darmon as he climbed the ledge.

“He came to the caverns, too?” she asked, her face to one side of the Goron’s stony round head.

“Yes. He said the mines were blocked by boulders. Said he could clear them out for us. Wanted the Ruby as payment.”

“Darmon, you didn’t…?”

“No. Gor Daruni told him to soak himself in the crater. So he left.” They reached the top of the ledge.

“Can you clear the boulders away?” asked Lutai, dismounting.

“It would take too long,” said Darmon, waddling again. “We haven’t got enough stored up to feed us all. Daruni’s already sent most of us away to find our own food. Once I block up your paths I’ll have to stay in the temple under the crater to survive. I’ll have the Ruby with me. Daruni’s sent to the king to see if they can help. Meantime the brothers who stayed are helping to clear the rubble.” They had reached the cave opening.

“I am sorry it is so inconvenient for you, Darmon.” Lutai said patting his enormous rocky fist with her webbed hand. “It’s a shame you can’t take the water passage back to the domain. We are very grateful. Please, take whatever rock you don’t use, if it’s any good.”

“Thank you, Lutai,” Darmon said in his gravelly voice, “but I am quite content with what I have in the temple.” What he could have said was that the Zora’s water was sweet but their rocks were all sour. “It is a shame the Ruby is so precious…” he said with a hungry gleam in his eye.

“I’m sure it would taste wonderful,” said Lutai, grimacing.

Darmon shrugged and grew sober again. “Have you spoken to the Koroki? The Desert Man will surely try for the Emerald if he has not already. You can take the forest-passage just short of the ledge back there.”

“I will see them on my way back,” said Lutai. “Thank you again, friend.” And the giant stone man curled up and rolled away down the mountain. When he was out of sight Lutai turned and sprinted back toward the forest-passage. Before she reached it, however, she felt a vibration at her neck. Touching the gray stone that hung there she heard a voice in her mind. It was the voice of a young boy, full of sorrow. And he said only one word: Dying.

* * *

Impa watched her charge stand on tiptoe to see into the window of the Grand Hall. The flowers in the gardens were blooming, their heads poised; still. Then, without announcement, a young green-clad boy entered the gardens through the only entrance; opposite the princess. Around his head floated a glowing ball of blue light with wings like a dragonfly. Zelda turned away from the window and noticed the forest-child. She gasped. Her dreams were becoming real.

Episode II ~ The Lengthening Shadow

2008-03-13T13:52:00.006-05:00

Being the second of three episodes composing the work "Shadows of the Past," which chronicles the events surrounding the Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask.

In the first episode Ganondorf Dragmire, King of the Gerudo Thieves, comes to Hyrule Castle Town to seek an audience with the King of Hyrule...and swear his allegiance. The tale follows the Sages of Hyrule, wise representatives from each of Hyrule's races, as Ganondorf visits them seeking their "support."

This, the second episode, begins seven years later when Link, the Hero of Time, faces Ganon after he has taken posession of the Triforce ~ a legendary artifact which grants the one who touches it the wish of his heart.

Please note changes in time as indicated at the beginning of relevant chapters.

Prologue ~ Tales of Future Past

2008-03-13T13:44:00.006-05:00

1391 HR (Hyrulean Reckoning)

Link leaned on the Master Sword like a cane. His heart pulsed through every portion of his body, though his limbs were numb with adrenaline. As he panted and heaved through rattling lungs, he coughed and spat. He shook his arms to return the feeling to them. The shield of the Hylian Royal Guard had long since grown heavy on his right arm. The battle had been long, but it was not over; he would need to weaken his foe only a little more. Most importantly, he had just recovered the Blade of Evil’s Bane from the ground where his opponent had tossed it. It was the only weapon that could harm the crazed King of Evil. Presently, a young woman’s voice brought him out of his repose:

“Link, you can’t just stand there, he is prone! Finish it!” Zelda bellowed from behind a wall of flame.

“Excuse me, Princess, but…” But Link had little time to argue. He leapt to the side, a hairy black fist the size of a crate pummeling the ground where he had stood moments before. Thrashing menacingly before him was the very King of Evil; Ganon. Link’s enemy was a thirty-foot tall half-human porcine monster bearing down on him with a pair of swords as long as lumber saws. Zelda, Link and Ganon stood amidst the ruins of Ganon’s tower, a pile of rubble strewn across a mass of earth hovering half a mile over a volcanic crater that had once been the fair castle of Hyrule. The darkness surrounding the three of them was unnatural and fraught with turmoil. And all the time the monster before him loomed more threatening.

Link backed away and circled his opponent until he was close enough to the princess for her to hear. “As I was saying,” Link hollered over the roar of the fire, “I don’t see you in any mortal peril!” The heat drew long lines of sweat over Link’s face. As Link blinked through the salt in his eyes, Ganon’s massive fist pounded the ground with a crunch that threatened to split their floating island in two, hurling both Link and Zelda off their feet.

“Yes,” Zelda replied, pulling herself away from the edge of the floating island, nearly escaping an end in the pool of lava below. “I’m fine. If you like, I could just wait for you down there in that pit of molten rock!”

“Whatever suits you, Princess,” said Link, raising himself up again, “I’ll be right back.” And he dove under the legs of the gargantuan pig. Rolling into the movement, he emerged standing before his enemy’s short porcine tail. With a swipe of the Master Sword he disabled Ganon’s left hamstring and the King of Evil released a bellow that caused Zelda to clasp her hands to her pointed ears. The beast fell to one knee with a crash, causing the remains of a ruinous rock wall to crumble. Ganon faltered, and then collapsed altogether, his huge form spread-eagle on the rubble.

“Finish it, the Sages are ready!” Zelda hollered.

And with a battle-cry rattling from his lungs, Link scaled the mountainous backside of the beast and traversed his way over the large corded knots of back muscle. He leaned forward and fell onto the monster’s neck, sinking the Master Sword in hilt-deep. The monster squealed and its body went limp. And as the creature’s life ebbed, the flames hedging the floating island dissipated, and then the only sound was the churning of the lava far below.

All was deceptively quiet—until the muscled mountain upon which Link was perched reared to throw him off. Link held fast to the handle of the Master Sword, refusing to let go. Despite the superior grip of the shining gauntlets he wore, the beast would not bear him, and the sword slid clean out of its neck, throwing Link to the ground from the height of four men. Link fell to his back and lay stunned, the wind knocked from him, the Master Sword loose in his grip.

The King of Evil clutched his neck and his breath gurgled in his throat as he heaved himself up to an unbalanced crouch. Then, slowly, Ganon pulled his massive porcine body to where Link lay prone and unconscious.

Then Zelda rushed forward. “No!” she screamed, planting her feet on the uneven broken rock. “You will not have him!” And suddenly, as if the sun had broken through the unnatural night and shone only on her, Zelda’s whole body began to glow with a golden light. Ganon stopped, his beady pig-eyes squinting. The next moment Zelda made a movement like she was attempting to topple a large stone pillar and the light surrounding her solidified in a column that shot from her hands, long and bright in the darkness. The column of light ploughed directly into Ganon’s chest, flinging him into one of the only remaining stone walls. The ground reverberated from the impact and the King of Evil lay still as air bubbled from his neck.

The princess glared at the fallen Demon King, a picture of spiteful elegance, nearly as fearsome as the beast. Then she turned; Link stirred and his sword rang as he dragged it over the gravel. In a moment Zelda was at his side, cradling his head in her arms. “You’re okay,” she cooed, “you’re fine.”

Link gritted his teeth. “Relative term, Princess,” he murmured. The rock covering Ganon’s body shifted, and he began to rise from the rubble. Link cleared his throat. “Whenever you feel like it,” he said, his eyes still closed.

Remembering their foe, Zelda gently lowered Link’s head and gripped a gray stone amulet hanging from her neck. Sages, banish him now! she thought. Open the door to the Golden Land and seal him in! All at once the air became thick with threads of multi-colored light weaving in and out of each other. The mass condensed below Ganon’s feet and then a light illuminated the beast from below as a rift appeared in the rock. Tentacles of colored light leapt out of the rift, wrapping around Ganon’s legs and neck, pinning his arms to his side. Squelching gasps eked from Ganon’s lungs as the net of light drew him down, down into the rift ever widening below him. Then the Evil King had worked an arm free and slammed it down just short of where Zelda stood, black claws gripping the stone at her feet. Ganon spoke in a harsh, rattling bellow:

“Curse you Sages. Curse you, Zelda! Curse you, foolish boy!!” Zelda gasped as Ganon began pulling himself out of the rift. He was gaining ground; in moments Ganon would have another arm free. “So long as I have the Triforce of Power,” growled Ganon, “I will exterminate you! I will not rest until I have exterminated every one of your children, and their children…” Then Ganon’s other arm was loose and he raised it over his head…

But then Link rose up with the Master Sword and charged, throat grating with an indignant battle cry, plunging the blade deep into the pig’s snout. Ganon shrieked and threw his hands high into the air, looking like nothing more than a thrashing, wounded animal. The tentacles of colored light seized him again and the portal to the Golden Land consumed the King of Evil, leaving golden energy bubbling and crackling in the unnatural darkness. In moments the rift of light dissipated, and it was as if neither it nor Ganon had ever existed, where both had raged only seconds before. The only light was the dim redness that glowed under the floating island.

Link let the Hylian shield slide from his right arm. Zelda’s eyelids grew heavy, and she faltered. But Link was there with an arm around her waist, and they leaned against each other in the red-lit night.

* * *

“Link, you have to go home, now,” Zelda said. The space around them was brilliant white, only just accented by thin wisps of blue fog. Under their feet was a pool of water that extended endlessly out into the fog. “I have to send you back,” Zelda repeated.

It may have been a dream for how she looked, but Link knew that it was certainly Zelda. They both appeared as if they had not just been in a battle. Link was wearing his green tunic, trousers and boots, but they were all clean, and his blonde hair was well combed within his long green cap. Zelda wore the gown of her station; the white dress covered by a long purple vest and the long apron with the royal crest that hung from her waist. She was certainly beautiful when she was clean, he thought.

“Link!” Zelda said, becoming impatient.

“Sorry, I got distracted. What?” he said.

“Link, I have to send you home, now,” Zelda said. She looked at her hands. “Give me the Ocarina.”

“Why?”

“Because, Link, you don’t belong here,” she said, her voice buckling. “I never should have asked you to do this, any of it. You missed seven years…”

Link couldn’t believe what she was saying. “And you waited,” he rebutted. “You brought me here, and now after seven years of playing at being a Sheikah just so you could avoid that spawn of Gerudo filth, you showed yourself for who you were and got caught…and who came and saved you? And helped you banish him? And now you want to send me back!?”

Zelda cleared her throat and a streak of wetness lined her face. She looked away into the white as if she wanted to banish some enemy she still saw there. “Link, give me the Ocarina,” she said before looking at him again.

Link’s hands clenched the air as he resisted the temptation to throw the precious instrument. He looked away, his jaw set. When he looked back Zelda was staring at him with folded arms. Link’s head bobbed in begrudging futility. “Fine,” he said, and reached into the medium sized pouch at his side to draw out the Ocarina. It was a hollow, smooth lump of blue clay the size of a large potato. On its protruding neck it bore the insignia of the Triforce, three triangles arranged to form a larger triangle. Zelda had given him the instrument seven years before when she fled from Ganon’s first attempt on her life.

By entrusting the Object to him, she had allowed Link entrance into the Sanctuary where the Master Sword had stood, waiting for the Hero to draw it. When he did so he also inadvertently permitted Ganon entrance to the Golden Land where he seized the Triforce and made his evil wish, throwing the land of Hyrule into darkness under his reign. But after Link had grown old enough and strong enough to bring the Master Sword to bear against Hyrule’s foes he had sought the evil that plagued the land. He had faced all manner of strange creatures—demons and dragons alike, nearly perished from heat exhaustion in the belly of Death Mountain, avoided drowning at the bottom of Lake Hylia, and now that it was all over she just wanted to send him back? Link held the Ocarina in front of him. “Just tell me this,” he said. “If you don’t want me here, why did you ever even give this to me? You didn’t seem to think it was what Rauru wanted…”

Zelda looked as if she had been stabbed. Her mouth curled downward in a frown that disgraced her clear face, her small mouth contorting. Her eyes searched Link’s expression for some hint of sorrow, but when she found nothing she looked at her hands again. Her eyes clenched shut, squeezing out tears. “I…I have regretted that decision for seven years,” she said between gasps. “I thought it was the only way; it was our only chance. I thought…I thought you were the greatest chance Hyrule had for survival. We needed you. I…” but she broke off as another trail of wetness streaked her face. She suddenly gulped for air and quickly pressed the fingers of one thin, gloved hand to her mouth. Then, unable to compose herself, she wept openly into her open hands.

Link felt as if his chest had been yanked into his stomach. The Ocarina was lead in his hands. He cast his mind about for what he might do, but all he could think of was to put his arm around her, and then they were in each other’s embrace and his head was bowed; his jaw nestled on her shoulder. He could feel her body shaking, her lungs gulping unevenly for air. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I…I’ll go. Please.” He lowered his hands to her waist and her chest pulled away from his. “Take it,” he said, offering her the Ocarina. “I’m sorry.”

She looked at the instrument and placed one thin hand over it. She lifted the Ocarina to her chest and pressed it there, raising her eyes to see directly into his.

“Link,” she said, purposefully, “I can send you back so that no time will have been lost. You can make of your childhood whatever you will.” Then she looked at him intently. “Whatever you will.” And she kissed him lightly on his cheek. She lingered there a moment and whispered, “Goodbye Link, Hero of Time.”

Link could not feel anything but his feet tingling in his boots and his head buzzing in his cap. Then, before he realized what was happening, he heard her playing a familiar melody with solemn, breathy alto notes, and the fog advanced to envelop him. Her blue eyes were the last thing he saw before he passed out of that world.

Chapter I ~ Warning from the Future

2008-03-13T13:39:00.004-05:00

1384 HR

As the fog cleared from his mind, Link realized that he was lying on a well manicured patch of soft, damp grass. He was looking up into the sky, wispy clouds of white streaking across a patch of blue. He sat up within the stone-walled circular garden, and immediately he saw her. It was Zelda—but something was different.

She was a child.

And so was he. He looked at his hands, felt his belly, reached for the toes of his small leather boots, and everything about his body felt shorter and chubbier; his legs and arms, his face; everything. He had gone back in time—but how far back? He stood up as quietly as he could.

How had he ended up in the garden? When he had gone back in time before, it was by means of the Master Sword. And it was exact; if he placed the sword in the pedestal in the Sanctuary of the Temple of Time, his spirit would be drawn back to his body seven years previous, even down to the time of day. Drawing it again would reverse the process, but all the while time flowed, as it always did.

But this was not the same. It was night when he had defeated Ganon, but now it was midday. And he had never traveled through time anywhere other than the Temple Sanctuary. He supposed the circular garden just outside the castle’s Grand Hall matched the spot where he and Zelda lay after they vanquished Ganon. Zelda must have used a different kind of magic to send him back. Maybe that was why she needed the ocarina.

He stared at the younger Zelda, her back turned. She must have been about ten years old. It was almost as if he could see how her childishness would become womanhood, and time suddenly shrank for him; compressed. He retained seventeen years of memories in a ten-year old body. What was it Zelda had said about making his childhood anything he wanted…?

He immediately looked up at the sky again. It was just past midday. Where was Impa? Would he still have time to warn them about Ganon? He didn’t even know whether his other self and Zelda had met yet. He would have to act like it was the first time unless she gave some sign that it wasn’t. He would have to be careful. Rauru had told him about time travel before, and so he knew what would happen if he changed too much.

Link walked toward the young Zelda with a casual swagger and remembered just in time that he didn’t swagger when he was ten. How did he act? It didn’t matter now; she had turned and was staring at him, one hand on the ledge of the window she had just been peeking into. He froze, unsure of what to say.

Her light brown eyebrows came together. It startled him how very young she was. “Didn’t Impa just lead you out? Have you lost your way, forest-boy?” she asked, amused. Link searched seven years into his memory. His younger self must have just left with Impa, Zelda’s nursemaid, who would be pointing him eastward toward Impa’s village, Kakariko. Once Link’s other self got there, he would be gathering more information and eventually head toward Death Mountain to talk to the Gorons about the Ruby they had. That meant his other self would be occupied for awhile.

Zelda laughed when Link did not answer. “Have you lost something? Like your voice?” she said.

Taking the cue, Link answered, trying to sound as boyish as possible. “Yeah. I lost…forgot the song Impa taught me.” He didn’t know how soon to tell her he was from the future.

“Well she hasn’t come back yet, and if the guards see you when you leave, Daddy will have a fit. Better wait with me until she comes back.” Even as a child, Zelda was still very wise. Link realized he had never noticed this about her until he was older.

“Okay,” he said. He shuffled his feet in the grass. That felt right; he remembered he had always done that, ever since he was a kid. Then Link noticed Zelda looking past him, and he turned. Impa had just entered the circular garden through the main stone archway. And she wore a look that wasn’t quite puzzled—but treacherous.

“How did you get back in?” she asked firmly, and in a moment she was halfway across the garden. Link noticed she had her hand behind her back, where she kept her dagger safely hidden in her girdle, he recalled. Out of reflex he would have pulled his Koroki sword from its sheath on his back, but he suddenly realized it was no longer there. Neither was his shield. And where was Navi? He had been sent back with none of his items; only his green cap, his oversized green tunic, belted up, and his pair of leather boots. He was defenseless. Link showed Impa his naked palms.

“Impa, what’s wrong?” said Zelda, visibly unsettled by Impa’s terseness. Impa had been very kind to Link, why would she react like this?

“You know very well, Princess, that if he had come in past the guards it would have taken him an age. I returned immediately by the shortest passage under the castle, yet here he stands after I had just led him out by the longest. None know the passages under Hyrule Castle better than I, save someone who is not who they say they are.” She stared at Link as if she were attempting to see something under murky water. “Now are you or are you not the boy I just led out of this place?” Her bare toned arms were tense, the muscles of the one behind her back strung tightly, like a bow. He would have to tell her something to throw her off.

“I need to speak to the Sages,” Link said. He didn’t know if there were Sages before the ones he had helped gather in the future. Still it got her arms to relax a little.

“What knowledge would you have of the Sages?” she asked, raising a thin eyebrow.

“You all are in danger,” he said. As Impa’s muscles tensed again, it was immediately apparent that he had said the wrong thing.

“Why would we be in danger?” Impa asked. Zelda was looking between the two of them so quickly she could have been watching a fight between two angry bees.

“I know the song you taught me, the one only members of the Royal Family know!” he said, which set Zelda’s eyebrows together again.

“I thought you said you couldn’t remember it,” Zelda said. Impa was interested in this bit of news.

“I do not meet well with those who lie to members of the Royal Family,” Impa said through her teeth. “Either you will produce some evidence that you are not a servant of evil or I will dispatch you, do you understand?”

Link said everything that came to his mind: “You’re Impa, leader of the Sheikah, you have a knife behind your back, that I’m really afraid of right now, and you don’t tell anyone about it, not even your closest allies, and you whistled me the song that you sing to Zelda as a lullaby because it was your role in Zelda’s dream to teach it to the boy who came out of the forest, which is me! I’m me!” Impa was taken aback at the flood of confidential information he had just confessed. Still, she seemed skeptical.

“Play the song,” Impa demanded.

“I haven’t got my ocarina,” he admitted truthfully.

“Then whistle it,” she said, her voice hardening.

“I can’t whistle…” he said feebly.

“Then hum!” she snapped, and he knew she was not to be crossed again. He searched his frantic mind for the tune and began to hum. At first it sounded nothing like what it should have been, and for a moment he thought he saw Impa’s arm move, but he closed his eyes, and focused on the melody. And as he began to hum it correctly, the effect of the song seemed to wash over him, calming him, and he opened his mouth to sing it. He had never tried to sing the tune before, but now that he did he was filled with it. Truly it was as Impa had told him years ago (or what seemed to him to be years ago); there was a mysterious power in the song. When he opened his eyes she had relaxed. Her eyes were searching him as if the answers to her questions were somewhere under his tunic.

“How did you return so quickly?” she asked him.

Link lowered his hands. “I have a lot to explain.”

* * *

Impa kneeled next to Link just outside the large double-doors leading into the Grand Hall. “Remember,” she advised, pulling his tunic straight, “they will be expecting you. Do not show fear, and do not lie. If you do, they will know.”

“But how…” Link began.

“It is of no consequence. Be truthful and you shall have nothing to fear. Now go. I will return to my duties attending the Princess. If you have need of me, ask any of the guards. I will notify the lieutenant of your presence…They will not throw you out,” she added when his eyes widened. Then Impa stood and left the way they had come, through the halls of the castle.

Any other child Link’s age would have felt vulnerable. No adults to rely on, no way to fight back if something were to happen. But something told Link, as it often did, that things would work out alright, and he pressed forward, leaning into one of the heavy doors. When it opened wide enough, Link walked through into the Grand Hall.

The smooth cool tile of the floor reached out in all directions. A clerestory brightened the space between the scrolled capitals of the massive fluted columns and the vaulted ceiling. A narrow blue carpet ran the length of the hall and drew Link’s attention to the far end where two tiers of wide, shallow steps lead up to a long dais that stretched the length of a semicircular apse. Three massive stone chairs on the dais formed a visual pyramid—the lower, smaller outer chairs deferring to the central throne.

From the top of the center throne stretched a colossal sculpture of three golden women. Each of the goddesses had a swirl of stone protruding from her mouth, signifying her influence upon Hyrule. Their gold-leafed bodies encircled a trio of triangles, arranged to form one larger triangle, which must have been extremely heavy as it appeared to be made of solid gold. Link became aware that two soldiers flanked the doors, and two more stood at attention on either side of the wide stone steps leading up to the dais. They were so still he had almost not noticed them; like miniature sculptures to complement the Golden Goddesses. Link proceeded through the space feeling very small, especially after being thrust back into a body that was seven years younger than he had become accustomed to.

Seated before the three stone thrones, in three wooden chairs of equal height on the dais were the King and Queen of Hyrule and the Captain of the Royal Guard, the last of which nodded at Link firmly. At the captain’s feet rested a shield that Link recognized. It bore a Triforce symbol and the Royal Bird. Before he had time to think much of it, however, the king spoke.

“Come.”

As he approached the dais Link noticed that the queen wore the same dress that Zelda had worn—or would wear—when she was older; white with a purple vest, and adorned with gold metalwork on her head and around her waist from which hung an apron bearing the royal family’s symbol. The king was clothed in a large red velvet overcoat with a blue pocketed jacket underneath. He wore light gray leggings and soft-leather shoes with blunt toes that pointed upward. He too was adorned with gold-work upon his head, and he wore a gold buckle on his cloth belt bearing the Triforce emblem. The captain wore a white shirt and trousers, both trimmed in blue, over which was a light chain shirt. His treated leather boots bore buckles, and over all of this his belt was cinched around a white tunic with the red symbol of the royal family on his chest. At the captain’s side hung a rapier.

The queen spoke in a voice that was smooth and welcoming: “Hello, child. We are the ruling power of Hyrule. We understand there is something you wish to tell us. What concerns you?”

For a moment Link wondered if he should bow, and then realized that he had never properly met the royalty of Hyrule before. He fumbled with his empty hands. He had met Zelda when she was young; twice now, in fact, but those meetings had hardly been formal. Link had met Zelda multiple times as an adult as well, counting the times when she was in disguise and again when she revealed herself for who she was. But he had never met the king; only seen him vaguely at the garden window. For that matter, he could not remember ever learning what happened to either of Zelda’s parents, after they survived the war. All he knew was that Zelda lived with Impa in Kakariko in the future…why didn’t she live with her parents, he wondered…or did they…

But as he stared at Zelda’s mother, Link thought she looked so much like her daughter that he had difficulty telling himself the queen wasn’t really Zelda. The queen was like a more contemplative, less distraught, slightly older version of Zelda. Link had the feeling that if Zelda had not been through so much—what with going into hiding for seven years, training to survive in combat, and seeing her family and kingdom fall apart before her eyes—she might have been sitting in front of him at that very moment. Then Link’s eyebrows scrunched up as he considered the captain. Was he royalty, too?

The queen must have seen the question on Link’s young boyish face, for she asked: “Do you wonder why a soldier is seated on the same platform as the king and queen, young one?” Link was surprised at the level of confidence in her voice. It was as if she could read his thoughts.

“Yes, ma’am,” Link replied meekly. He realized that he also didn’t know how to refer to royalty, so he offered a short bow just in case. The queen glanced at her husband, who nodded, smiling pleasantly, before she turned and addressed Link:

“Colin is our Captain of the Royal Guard. He is Head of the Order of Courage and my protector.”

Link nodded at the captain. “Howdy,” he said, uncertainly. “I’m Link…of the Koroki.” He felt that his introduction was far too short compared to the captain’s. Colin did not seem to mind, however; he winked with a green eye and let a smile creep across one of his cheeks.

The queen continued: “My husband, the King of the Hylian people, is Head of the Order of Power, Link, and I am Head of the Order of Wisdom. Together we organize the affairs of the kingdom after our respective orders and counsel one with another concerning actions that must be made, judgments that must be passed, and endeavors which must be undertaken.”

Link’s mouth hung open. All he had ever known was living as he pleased in the forest with his friends, the Koroki children. But that had been some time ago, to him. Lately, at least before Zelda had sent him back in time, his had been a nomadic life with very little order or organization. “You do all of that yourself?” he asked.

“No,” the king replied, “the captain has his knights, I have advisors who counsel with me, and my wife has Sheiks as her attendants. But that is neither here nor there, son. What would you have us know?”

Suddenly, Link remembered the urgency of his errand. All of this was still very new to him. It was like getting to know relatives you never knew you had. But that would have to wait. “I have a message from Zelda,” he said.

“The princess?” the captain asked.

“Yes.” Link looked at each of the Heads of Order expecting them to understand what that meant.

The king looked at his wife suspiciously. In a low voice Link could barely hear the king said, “Is she playing at something, again?”

But just as the queen was about to speak, Link caught on. “No,” he said, “your older daughter…” Now it was the queen’s turn to be puzzled. She blinked.

“We have only one daughter,” she said, “and she is young. Why do you call her older?”

Link silently berated himself for being so dense. He felt more and more a child all the time. Finally, he opened his mouth to explain. “I…we…the princess and me…” he started. The king looked at him more intently. “She sent me back to now so that I could warn you,” Link finished.

The captain sat up and folded his hands. “Did you say sent you to now?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Yes,” Link said matter-of-factly. “She sent me back in time. To warn you,” he repeated.

The captain turned to the king. “Do you suppose Rauru knows about this?”

“We shall see,” the king replied, never taking his eyes from Link. Addressing the boy he said, “What is it you have come to warn us about, young one? What does the future hold?” It was as much a challenge as it was a question.

Link’s face felt hot. “Well…I’m not sure really where to start…see we sealed Ganon away in the Golden Land and…”

“He’s in the Golden Land?!” the king blurted abruptly. The queen’s right hand jumped to her chest and the captain’s left hand flew to his rapier. The king’s knuckles were white, his hands gripping the rests of his chair. His face was vehement, flanked by the startled expressions of the queen and captain. “That traitorous thief, coming to vow his allegiance…” the king muttered, “…never should have fallen for it, just wanted to get inside the walls…” Link was shocked silent.

“Calm yourself, Daphnes,” the queen said soothingly, “the Door is still in place. The keys are safe…” The king was appeased, but a small vein still protruded from his forehead. The captain relaxed his grip on the rapier at his side. Speaking to Link the queen said, “Forgive us, child. Please, how do you know of this?”

Link started to dislike being a child again. “I told you, I was there! I fought Ganon in his tower that he built over where the castle used to be, and Zelda called on the Sages and they sealed him in the Golden Land, and then she sent me back seven years so I could get my lost time back, and now I’m here telling you that Ganon is going to get in and he’s going to get the Triforce, and we have to stop him!” Link breathed deeply. His younger body had less capacity for air than his older one did. He made a note of it and decided he would have to practice his diving again soon, if something else didn’t happen first.

The king, queen and the captain seemed to assimilate what Link had said. The queen’s eyes were closed as she pondered what this news would mean. The others waited the moments it took for her to open them again. She spoke:

“If what you say is correct, then you would know that a bearer of the powers of the Triforce cannot be stopped by ordinary means. How did you defeat Ganon if he had the Power of Gold?”

“I had the Master Sword,” Link stated.

The air in the room changed. Whereas before it had been excited, it now became very still; reverent.

The queen’s eyes were focused on the boy. Her gaze lowered to his clothes as she opened her mouth to speak. “You drew the Master Sword from its pedestal?”

“Yes,” Link replied, cringing under the queen’s sharp stare. The captain muttered something to the king that Link could not hear. The king turned ever so slightly to hear what the captain was saying. “I had to get the three Spiritual Stones first, though, and that wasn’t easy,” Link added apologetically. “It took me forever just to get the Emerald from inside Father Dekku.”

The queen’s voice was quiet. “Tell us more of this news.”

Link shifted his feet. “Well, he had all sorts of big spiders living inside him and there were cobwebs everywhere…” he began.

“Forgive me, Master,” said the captain, “but I believe her Majesty means for you to describe your experience with the Blade of Evil’s Bane.”

For a moment Link did not understand that the captain had referred to him. He had never been called ‘Master’ before, though he knew it was used out of great respect. But three pairs of eyes were fixed on him, so he knew he must say something.

“It was…I remember seeing it and thinking how big it was. The light from the window behind it made it look that way, I think. But when I got closer it looked like someone had spent a lot of time on it, making it look fancy. And then…when I touched it…” Link’s body shuddered a little as he thought of the experience again. What had not yet happened in this time was seven years ago for him, though it was as vivid in his mind as if it was happening just then.

“Go on child,” he heard the queen say as his mind played the scene out again.

“It was like…it was like there was someone down there, under the sword, and they reached up through the sword and into me, and they grabbed my…chest, and…pulled.” Link’s small hand came up to the front of his tunic. His eyes narrowed as his fingers creased the green cloth. “But I couldn’t let go, and so when I pulled away from it the sword came out…and then everything went white, and then black. And the last thing I remember was someone laughing.”

Link’s eyes moved as if they could not see. Then suddenly his eyes focused somewhere behind the queen. “He’s coming tomorrow night. He’s going to make night come early and he’s going to try to take the Ocarina from Zelda and then…and then I’ll come back with the other Spiritual Stones.” Here the king’s eyes narrowed. “My other self, I mean,” said Link, “you can ask Impa. And then he’ll follow me into the Temple—Ganon will—and he’ll get in.”

The king breathed in, and then out. “How are we to know that you speak the truth?” he asked. His wife laid a hand on his arm, her eyes a warning. “No, Zethra, I have been faced with too many tricks on account of this Thief Lord, I need to be sure.”

Link thought of something he could say: “Later today Death Mountain will erupt.”

“But the Death Mountain volcano has not erupted since the days of the Goddesses,” said the captain.

“It will today,” Link said. “I remember; I went up there after I got the Ruby from Daruni.” Link eyed the captain’s shield once again. “It’s a good thing I had one of those shields.”

The captain turned his gaze on Link intently. It seemed to Link that the captain had remembered something, and then dismissed it.

The king sat back in his chair. “Very well. We shall watch for this as a sign in the east. In the meantime, what do you advise?”

But Link had not thought this far ahead. He had thought that they would figure out what to do on their own. They had to stop Ganon somehow…in the future it was the Sages that sealed Ganon away in the Golden Land, but they wanted to keep him out of the Golden Land in the first place. Link saw the king raise his thick eyebrows, expectant.

“You could get the Sages to help,” Link suggested quickly. Then he thought about what he had just said. He didn’t know who the Sages might be in this time; he had had to awaken all of the Sages in the future…all but Rauru. But if new Sages all had to be awakened, that must mean that the ones who came before them escaped, or…

The queen spoke, pulling Link from the grim thought. “It is wise,” she said, meeting the gaze of her husband, who sighed. “The Sages should lay in wait for the Thief Lord in the Temple of Time. Once the boy has entered the Sanctuary of the temple, the Sages will be ready to capture the infiltrator. When he is in custody, he will be taken to the Arbiter’s Grounds and tried.”

“Be careful, Zethra,” said the king. “I would not lose you to this man’s evil.”

The captain spoke. “She will not fall, Daphnes, I swear it. I will fall before she does.”

“Then you must both be careful. I would not lose either of you, Colin, if it can be avoided. The very thought makes my heart sick.”

The captain bowed his head and nodded, his face straight. “Thank you, my Liege,” he said, placing his fist over his heart.

“The Sages are mighty, my love,” said Zethra. “We cannot all fail…”

“Yes, but you are not immortal,” replied the king, laying his hand over hers. “Mudora proved that, Faroe keep him. You do not know what this man may do, if pressed.”

“I know that I cannot stand by and do nothing,” she answered.

Link felt that he was witnessing something very private, almost sacred. He shifted his belt and then flattened his tunic with one hand. He pondered a moment on what it meant for him to bring this news to the king and queen at this time. In his history the people of Hyrule were all but wiped out when Ganon invaded from the Golden Land; only those who evacuated to Kakariko village had survived. But Ganon was dangerous even before he had the Triforce of Power. He had put curses on Father Dekku and the Zora’s deity-fish, Jabun. Link knew that anyone who opposed Ganon would be putting themselves in mortal danger. He doubted for a moment whether his message was as important as all that. Was he so sure things wouldn’t just work out? “Please. Your majesties?” he said quietly.

“Yes, child,” said the king turning again to Link. “We will prepare as you have said. Nelson, where is the Gerudo Lord now?”

One of the guards flanking the doors behind Link stood to attention, his spear jutting out at an angle in front of him. “He has been given quarters in the town, my Liege. Shall I fetch him?”

“No thank you, Nelson. Let him stay there as long as he pleases. Make him comfortable, but do not give him any reason to suspect we know of his plans. Now that he has sworn us fealty we can neither arrest him nor detain him, especially for something he has not done. Nevertheless, I want your men on alert until further notice for any suspicious activity, especially anything near the temple. If anyone is seen entering the temple grounds, lock the outer gate.”

The guard nodded. “Aye, sir.”

“Proceed,” said the king, and the guard left the Grand Hall. The king turned to the captain. “Colin, I want the knights prepared to take up places of hiding outside the temple by morning. Have them cover every entrance, especially the secret ones, and put archers on all the surrounding rooftops. Have a Stealth Guard ready in case they need to catch the infiltrator inside the temple. Remember: we cannot arrest him until he has entered the Sanctuary. We must be ready to flush him out. You will accompany the queen within the temple. Agreed?”

“It shall be as you say, my Liege,” said the captain, bowing. He stooped to raise his shield to his back, bowing to Link as he passed him on his way out. “Master Hero,” said the captain. Link nodded, smiling meekly. All of this was happening so fast.

Now the king turned to his wife. “Say nothing, Daphnes,” she said. “You have spoken what your heart feels. I will not betray that. I must away to prepare the Sages.” And she arose to every inch of her elegant height, squeezing her husband’s hand before she too left the Grand Hall. The king watched her go, his eyes framed by his taut eyebrows. Finally, he looked down at Link, who was shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Link opened his mouth to speak, but he could not think of anything to say. Now the Sages would put themselves between Ganon and the Golden Land because of what he had told them. The floor seemed to pull harder on him, making it seem that his boots were made of iron.

“Well then, young Hero, it remains what shall be done with you; for you cannot stay here,” said the king.

At first Link could not think what might happen to him. Then his eyes narrowed. “Excuse me, sir,” he bowed, “but what did you say?”

“What? Are you surprised that I called you Hero? It can only be so.” Surely, Link thought, they must be able to read his mind. The king continued: “My wife had a dream many years ago of one who would draw the Master Sword and travel through time to vanquish a Great Evil that had seized the Power of Gold. It simply remained to determine whether you were not some manifestation of that vile Thief Lord. My wife is right to trust you—I am not so wise as she. When the captain told me of his confidence in you it was nearly set in my mind. I simply had to test you. I had to.” The king leaned forward in his chair. “I am sorry if you feel I have doubted you. Your role in these events has long been prophesied. You must have been through so much to be here before us. Please accept my thanks for what you have done, though I may never know the extent of it. You shall always be honored in this kingdom.”

Link’s mouth hung open for the second time. Through all of the dangers he had faced, amid all of the trials with what seemed like none to comfort him when he needed it; here, finally, he was being thanked—and by the king of Hyrule. He felt more like a child than ever, yet somehow much more grown up. “Thank you,” he finally said, looking the king squarely in the eye. It was as if a heavy burden had lifted off his shoulders and he was suddenly a part of Hyrule.

The king smiled. He looked almost like Father Dekku, Link thought. How long it had been since he had spoken with the Great Tree. Link suddenly longed for home. Then the king grimaced and swallowed hard, looking sick.

A feeling of helplessness gripped Link’s stomach. It was like the Dekku Tree dying all over again. “What’s wrong, your Majesty? Are you okay?”

“Nothing,” said the king, recovering. He pulled his handkerchief from his sleeve and pressed it to his mouth. “It is well. Now, tell me; you have said that you have a younger self that is also about?”

“Yes,” said Link, strange as it was to admit that there was another of him. He wondered what it would be like to meet himself. He guessed he had, in a way, when he fought that shadow-thing that looked like him in the future. He remembered the creature’s red eyes most of all. In a strange way they had reminded Link of Sheik’s eyes; penetrating and truthful. Where had that shadow-Link come from? He did not suppose he wanted to know, and he was glad he was steering the future away from having to face it again.

The king continued speaking. “Then my advice is that you should not be seen by those who do not know you are here. We must secure you a place of hiding. Know you of any place where none would come looking for you?”

Only one place occurred to Link. “There’s the forest,” he said. He thought of the other Koroki children and how they would never imagine what he had been through. It had only been a few days since his other self had left the forest. And again he wondered where Navi might be. “Sir, I wonder…” He felt very foolish asking the king if he had seen Navi, but it was his only option at the moment and Link was beginning to worry that she was lost. “Have you seen any fairies around the castle recently?”

To Link’s alarm, the king chuckled loudly. “My good lad, you are quite the jester!” He wiped his eyes on his handkerchief. “No, indeed the only fairies you might see around the castle are said to live in a cave…”

“…to the south-east of the castle. I know,” Link finished, disappointed.

The king looked vaguely confused for a moment, but seemed to assimilate this. “It appears that you are truly more knowledgeable than your age would suggest. Hero of Time indeed,” the king mused. “Yes, well, I shall leave it to you then, Master Hero, where you feel your path may lead you. Have you transport? A horse?”

Link still felt bare without so many of the useful weapons and items he had acquired from his travels. Most of all he had become accustomed to getting around with Epona, the mare he had won from Lon Lon Ranch in the future. She would still be a foal at the ranch in this time. “I don’t even have a sword, sir,” he said.

“Then you will be outfitted before you leave.” The king took a folded card from within his jacket and called to one of the guards by the dais for a well of ink and a quill. It was brought in moments and Link watched as the king scrawled instructions on the card and then returned the quill and ink. “Take this note to the armory in the basements of the castle and they will give you what you need.” He handed the card to Link. “Then we shall have Impa escort you to the ranch outside of town. She will have a pony prepared for you. Return to us soon. If events go well, you shall be welcome back. If there is any sign that we have failed…” the king’s face became solemn, “then the Goddesses help us all.”

“I…I will not fail you,” Link said, emboldened by the weight of the king’s apparent sorrow. “I will return. If you are still in danger I will do all I can to help you.”

“Thank you, Link, Hero-who-has-passed-through-time. May the Goddess of Time bless you. Now go.” And bowing once more, Link left the Grand Hall in search of the armory.

Chapter II ~ Preparations

2008-03-13T13:30:00.002-05:00

“Impa, what did he say?” Zelda nearly had to run to match the pace of her hurried nursemaid. Rats scurried in and out of the puddles of water on the tunnel floor but she paid them no heed. The light of Impa’s lantern drove them from the path. The tunnels under the castle grounds were damp and squalid, but they were the fastest path anywhere within the Hylian Realm.

“I have told you, Princess; the boy warned us of an impending threat to the castle. That is all you need know.” The tunnel forked in three directions. Impa veered to the left, toward the Temple of Time.

“But Impa, it was my dream! Am I not permitted to know the events unfolding from my own prophecy?”

“Your premonition was enough to put the boy on the proper course. That is done, and now events shall unfold as they will.” They came to a stone wall with a barred off storm drain at the base. Bolted to the wall was a set of three corroded handles. Impa pulled on the handle in the center and turned it vertically so it would remain in place. She did the same to the left handle, then the right one. A loud click was heard behind the wall and the stones of the wall shifted back and out of the way to reveal a well-preserved metal ladder leading to a landing high above them. “Come,” said Impa, “you shall go first.”

“Tell me what he really said.” The princess stood defiant, her jaw set.

Impa grew impatient. “Either you will keep up with me or I will carry you.”

Zelda took this as an insult. She screwed up her face and twisted as she thrust her arms in the air. The next moment a green light enveloped her and she vanished. Another flash of green came from the landing above. Zelda’s face emerged from over the ledge.

“Perhaps you should keep up with me, nursemaid. Know who your princess is.”

Impa did not look pleased at this. Snuffing her lantern, she threw it high in the air. One moment Impa vanished in a flash of smoke and the next she appeared on the landing with another flash. Impa caught the lantern out of the air and with a snap of her fingers it was alight again. Zelda recoiled, flattening herself against the wall. Impa lowered her face so it was level with the princess’.

“I serve you because I honor the vows of my ancestors, humble though our heritage may be. You would do well to honor your house with more courtesy to those who protect you, noble one.” Impa stood erect again. Zelda looked on her nursemaid with awe. She pulled herself away from the wall and straightened her gown.

“Lead on, then,” said Zelda meekly, looking at the ground.
Impa placed her foot carefully near the ledge and put her weight on the spot. The stone under her foot sank into the ground and there was another click. The stones of the wall moved again to conceal the ladder and the handles reset themselves.

Zelda watched the wall close together. “Impa, I am sorry. I should not have called you nursemaid as I did, like it was a thing of dishonor.”

“It is what I am, child. There is no dishonor in that,” said Impa. “And you truly are the princess I knew you were.” A smile crept across Zelda’s face. “You must not separate yourself from me again. Come, now,” said Impa. “Haste is imperative.”

* * *

“Can this news be true?” asked Rauru. Tobias stood close by, sweeping their loft in one of the towers of the Temple of Time. Zelda sat in a wooden chair near the door.

“Yes, Rauru, it is,” said Impa. “The Hero has returned from the future to aid us in our time of need, though we knew it not. The coming of the Gerudo King to these lands surely portents evil. It is simply a matter of when he will strike.”

“Which you say will be tomorrow,” concluded Rauru. “And our hospitality and diplomacy have put the enemy in a first class room by the town courtyard.” Rauru pulled back the wisps of his thin white hair. “We will need to be prepared.” The Sage leaned on the sill of the open window, looking out over Hyrule. “I have served this fair land since I was a youth, Impa. I have seen all too much evil in my day. Do you remember Potho? No, of course you wouldn’t…he was my master. He was very old when I was a young man; Tobias’ age, in fact. We saw dreadful things in those days. An ancient Minish wizard had escaped his imprisonment and started to snatch away the young girls of the town. Potho told me of the wizard’s imprisonment within a blade infused with the four elements.” Zelda looked at her nursemaid with a look of surprise but Impa signaled for her to say nothing. Rauru still gazed out the window. “None speak of it anymore, but that noble sword in the hands of the right young man saved the daughters of our land.” Rauru nodded his head, as if remembering some small detail. “He was the ancestor of our young Colin,” he finished.

“The captain?” blurted Tobais. He had stopped sweeping. When Rauru turned to the young man he quickly began sweeping again.

“Yes, Tobias, the captain’s grandfather. His name was Gustav, after the first hero of all. Gustav’s father was a notable hero as well…” Rauru suddenly paused, thoughtful. “Impa, what did you say that boy’s name was? The boy from the future?”

Zelda opened her mouth, but Impa turned swiftly to cut her off. “He did not say, Rauru. We only know him as the Hero of Time.”

Rauru accepted this, though he did not look convinced. “Well, in any case, we will need to make ready.”

“This is why we have come to see you. The Hero relates that the attack will come after he has opened the Sanctuary and drawn the Blade of Evil’s Bane.”

Rauru froze. Then, as quickly as he froze, he became animated. “He plans to open the Sanctuary? Is he mad!?” Both Zelda and Tobias jumped and stared at one another. Rauru paced the floor. “You have come to tell me that the boy who is to be our Hero…”

“…is our Hero…” corrected Impa. Rauru paid her no heed.

“…is going to let our enemy have access to the Power of Gold? Impa, I will not allow it. The Sanctuary is under my supervision…”

“Rauru, he is meant to lure him into a trap…” Impa said over him.

“…and I simply will not allow it. I closed the door myself. I enchanted the keys, and I entrusted them to the races of Hyrule. The door will not open without the keys. How is he supposed to enter without the keys?”

“He will have the keys; he already has the Emerald, and he is on his way to get the Ruby from the Gorons, now.”

Rauru was incredulous. “Already has…! Impa, you surely cannot permit this boy to enter the Sanctuary and combat the most dangerous man alive! I trust you will not allow him the Ocarina…?” Rauru’s eyes darted between Impa and Zelda. Zelda’s eyes shot from Rauru to Impa to Tobias and she clenched her chest where a potato-sized lump lay hidden under her dress.

“Rauru, you cannot know what you are suggesting,” said Impa. “Please, listen to me…”

“No, Impa. No. I simply will not allow the Door of Time to be opened. We stopped the Gerudo King once before, and it cost us two of our number. Oh, Goddesses, no, no. Not again.” He shook his wispy-haired head. Tobias was visibly frightened. Zelda imagined he had never seen his master this way.
Impa grabbed the Sage by the shoulders. “Rauru, is not the Door of Time so named because the Hero of Time was meant to open it? And does not the prophecy speak of a child to whom the Goddesses would grant a sword, like a key, to lock away the Great Evil? And how is the Hero to obtain the sword if he cannot enter the Sanctuary where it is hidden? You said yourself that a sword in the hands of the right young man…”

“Yes, Impa, a young man! Not a boy, a little boy…”

Then Impa clutched Rauru’s clothes in one hand and cupped her mouth to his ear. Rauru paused in his frenzy to listen. Zelda could not hear what it was she said, but whatever it was caused the old man to be still. Then his expression changed from consternation to relief. “Impa,” he said. “Impa, is this true?” He began to weep. Zelda looked as if she had been denied permission to ride her own horse.

“Yes, Rauru. We need you to help us. When he comes, he will be locked away in the Sacred Realm. When this happens you must take the Ocarina from him. We will send him away with it so that it may be preserved. You must do this, or all may be lost.”

Rauru nodded reverently. “Yes, Impa, yes, I understand.”

“Well. Then we must away. Come, Princess.” Zelda looked as if she would protest, but a glance from Impa got her up from her seat, grumbling all the way.

“Impa wait,” said Rauru. He was holding the gray stone that hung around his neck. In all respects it matched the one that the king wore at the tournament. “The queen has just contacted me from the castle. The Sages are to convene. We will set our plan. They also say you are to escort the young hero to the ranch to acquire a horse.”

Impa assimilated this. “Where am I to meet him?” she asked.

“In the castle armory.”

“Be sure that you do not fail,” said Impa. “We will protect the Ocarina.”

“Yes. Until then. Farewell, princess. May the Goddesses watch over you.” Zelda could not bring herself to smile as her nursemaid ushered her out of the Sage’s loft.

* * *

Link exited the Grand Hall the way he had entered. Then he jumped; in front of him stood a very important-looking soldier. Link had the sudden urge to duck behind a planter, but there were none nearby. His Koroki upbringing failed him as he remembered too late that he could not hide in plain sight like the other Koroki. The soldier approached Link…and extended his gloved hand to the green-clad boy.

“Master Hero, I presume.”

Link eyed the man cautiously. “You’re not going to throw me out?”

The soldier laughed a hearty, genuine laugh that caught Link off guard. “Whatever for?” said the soldier. “Impa told me of you. Come, give me your hand if we be friends. My name is Afton. I am the Second Lieutenant of the Knights of Hyrule.”

Link warily offered the man his hand. The knight’s hand almost concealed his. Link realized once again how out of place he felt in such a young body. “Thanks,” he said, taking back his hand. “I’m Link.”

“Very well, Master Link. How can I be of service?”

Link realized that Afton didn’t know he needed weapons. He pulled out the card the king wrote on and handed it to the knight. The knight studied it for a moment.

“Then you will need some equipment it appears. Come, I shall escort you.” Afton turned to one of the two staircases leading down from the Grand Hall. On his back was a shield like the captain’s. Link paused, staring at it.

Afton noticed Link’s alarm. “What is it?”

“That shield…”

“Yes. It is the shield of the Hylian Knights. Do you know it?”

“I…” Link shuffled his feet. “I had one…once.” He felt ashamed to say it. If it was the shield of a Hylian Knight, Afton might think Link had stolen one.

“Really?” Afton said, descending the staircase. “How interesting.” Link caught up with him.

“You don’t think I’m a thief?”

“Not unless you are,” Afton smiled. He led Link through the corridors of the castle. “Each Knight of Hyrule is issued his shield, which he keeps for the length of his service. If it is damaged he repairs it. It is a symbol of our constant vigilance and oath to protect the Royal Family, and to serve the Goddesses. While no more are made than are issued, sometimes knights are lost or perish away from home. The shields of knights past sometimes find their way back to the Castle Town market. I expect this is where you bought yours.”

“Yeah,” Link lied. He realized that the shield he had owned came from the grave of a knight. He was almost glad he no longer had it; it felt like a dishonour to the memory of the knight, whoever he was, to carry around his shield without his permission. The gravekeeper who dug it up for him must not have known…or maybe he did… Link resolved to ask him if he ever got the chance. They exited the castle into the rear courtyard. The sky outside showed it was nearing evening.

“Sir?” Link said.

“Please, call me Afton.” They descended a staircase that followed the walls of the castle proper toward the basements.

“Um…right. Afton? Could you tell me about the captain?”

Afton’s brow furrowed before he answered. “The captain is a good man, valiant and brave. He has seen many battles and is often weighed down by sorrow. Nevertheless, he is a strong man, and kind, when he is not provoked.” Link thought this must be true.

“He didn’t seem very sad earlier,” said Link.

“Yes, he does much not to concern others with his grief.”

“What happened?”

“He lost his wife and child. About ten years ago there were random attacks made on the people of Hylia. Villagers would be ambushed, and then the attackers would vanish without leaving any sign of their presence. It was impossible to track them, and they never left any alive. The captain sent his wife and child to Kakariko to keep them safe, but their escort was attacked, and they were never seen again.”

Link wasn’t sure what to say. “That’s horrible,” he said, finally.

“Karin was my sister,” said Afton. “I was fifteen when she went missing.”

“I’m…really sorry.” He thought again of the Dekku Tree, the most important figure in his young life…and Navi. He still needed to find her. “What was she like?” he asked.

Afton let out a low chuckle. “She was a spoiled brat, as I remember.” Link was taken aback.

“What…?”

“Oh, you’ll have to excuse me, Master Link. I guess I remember my sister differently than others…I like to remember her as if she were still here. It keeps me from feeling like she’s really gone. And she isn’t, really. I remember the way she would tell me about the graveyard out in Kakariko and how it was haunted. She’d threaten to leave me there, sometimes. And she always tried to convince me of things that didn’t exist. Things like castles in the sky, and fish two feet long!” He chuckled again to himself. “She’d even make me think there were rupees hidden in the bushes.”

Link rolled his eyes.

They arrived at the armory in the basements of the castle. The soldiers on either side of the thick wooden double-doors pulled them open when they saw the lieutenant approach. When they entered the armory, Link’s eyes were filled with the sight of walls and walls of weapons and armor. The spears the soldiers always carried stood in upright bundles. Elegant long swords traced with fine inlay; rapiers with sweeping basket hilts; strong, square short swords all hung in patterns on their racks. Stacks of tower shields with feet like a dogs; heavy round shields rimmed with studs; small bucklers all leaned against each other. Countless other things lay in piles, hung from pegs on the walls or protruded from barrels. Link suddenly felt like all the treasures from all the temples he had ever been to had been dumped in one place.

“What would you like, Master Link?” said Afton.

Link didn’t know where to start.

Afton showed Link the finer points of each weapon, making suggestions and offering advice. There was a good shield that closely resembled the Hylian shield Link had once owned, but it was smaller and had a stylized winged skull in place of the bird. Because of its size Link could hold it in front of him, which was a great improvement to having to carry it on his back all the time. He also found a good strong short sword, just right for him. He decided it felt odd having anything fancier, as nothing came close to the Master Sword itself. He longed to hold that blade in his adult hands again. It was as if it were made only for him to use…nothing would be the same.

Link felt that a sword and shield were enough for now. He could find other things along the way if he needed them. It just felt good to be able to defend himself again. While Link was testing the feel of his new short sword by pulling it from the sheath on his back, Afton was comparing the edges of his own rapier to a newer one that looked identical to it. Then a wry smile crept across Link’s face.

“I’ll need to sharpen this soon, I think,” said Afton. Then suddenly the flat of Link’s sword slapped Afton’s thigh, clinking against his mail armor. Afton’s rapier came around reflexively and would have cut the tip from Link’s cap if Link had not met the rapier with his own blade.

“What in the name of…” Afton’s eyes widened when he realized what he had almost done. Then he saw the playful look on Link’s face, and it was as if some third party had given the signal.

Clashing metal followed shouts as the two parried each other’s attacks. Smiling all the while the two of them tested the other’s defenses, not truly wishing to do harm, but interested and excited to see what the other would do. Link found his opponent more than worthy, as he discovered when he was forced to make use of his new shield to avoid a high attack. It had always felt unfair to Link that he had to take on opponents larger than him. Even as an adult there had been the Iron Knuckles of the Desert Shrine that were simply too well armored to manage, and outright impossible as a child. He remembered his tactics, however, and began to take advantage of his smaller size.

As Link worked a few rolls into his routine, Afton was forced into the defensive. He soon had to guess where Link might be the next moment in order to parry his attacks. Nevertheless, Afton was not Second Lieutenant for nothing. Grasping a second rapier Afton began fighting with two hands, parrying with one sword and thrusting with the other. But after a series of strikes Link had learned how to anticipate even this style of fighting, and he was soon beating Afton at his own game. Link caught Afton’s rapier at the guard and forced the tip toward the ground. Lunging, he rolled over the blade with his shield, snapping it near the hilt, and came up within Afton’s defenses with his short sword to Afton’s chest. Afton lowered his borrowed rapier to the ground breathing heavily and smiling.

“Well done!” said Afton. “You have certainly seen battle, Master Hero! If only my old blade had been more resilient, I might have had wherewith to challenge you further.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Link, realizing what he had done to Afton’s rapier. “Sorry.” Then Link and Afton became aware of a small pair of hands clapping very quickly. It was coming from somewhere near the door. It was Zelda, and behind her stood Impa, looking stern.

“Oh, Impa, weren’t they wonderful?” said Zelda. But a sober face from Impa quieted her excitement.

“Master Hero, we are here by order of the queen to escort you to the ranch,” said Impa as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Are you sufficiently prepared?”

If Afton had not just dueled with him Link might have felt very childish just then, but as it was he looked at Afton and shared a kind of glance that could only have been shared between two brothers when their mother finds they have made a mess of things; a kind of guilty satisfaction. Afton spoke first.

“I should arrange for the smith to mend my rapier,” he said to Link, picking up the two broken pieces. “I suppose my services are not needed for the moment. Your equipment seems to be satisfactory…” This conjured a light snigger from Zelda, which Impa frowned on. Afton walked toward a small door in the back of the armory over which hung a sign with a hammer and tongs. Before he was out of sight he turned and winked at Link. “Good luck with your escort.”

Link rolled his eyes and smiled. He sheathed his sword and slung his shield over his back. Turning, he saw Zelda looking straight at him. Suddenly his face went hot and he didn’t know whether to laugh or find a planter to hide behind.

Impa lowered her stern gaze to Link. “Haste is imperative, Master Link. Come.” Zelda looked up at her nursemaid with a face that said ‘see! I knew it!’ “Yes, child, I knew his name. We can discuss it another time. Come, both of you.” And she walked past the guards toward the stairs.

Zelda waited for Link to get to the door before she followed her nursemaid.

“Hi,” said Link, scratching the back of his neck. Zelda matched his pace.

“Hi,” she replied, a little more musically than she intended. Then Impa’s voice came from the stairwell.

“We will have to hurry if we are to make it to the ranch before the princess’ bedtime.”

Zelda’s face went pink and she sighed.

Chapter III ~ Of Horses and Ranch-hands

2008-03-13T13:27:00.001-05:00

“But, Impa, I can ride Asphodel. You know I can!”

“No. You are too reckless with him. We will take Brynn.”

Zelda and Impa were arguing about riding arrangements. In order to get Link to the ranch they would have to take exactly two horses. One would not carry all three of them, and three horses would mean one horse being led back to the castle, effectively slowing one of them down. The castle stables had a number of fine stallions and mares (Link was sure that all of these came from Lon Lon Ranch), and Link did not mind biding his time looking at all of them in turn. He noticed that each of the stalls had small plates attached to them with the names of the horse and its rider. ‘Bree/Duncan,’ read one plaque. ‘Frock/Franklin,’ said the next. It seemed that Hyrule Castle kept no more horses than it had riders.

Link saw a sandy colored stallion with a rich brown mane and an irregular blaze of white down its nose. Link smiled when he saw the plaque. It said: ‘Geoffrey/Afton.’ Then he saw a dappled gray mare with a mane of white. The plaque said ‘Orda/Colin.’ “Orda,” Link said aloud, testing the name. He had never heard it before.

“No, Link. We can’t take Orda,” said Zelda. “She’s the captain’s.”

“Oh, I was just saying it,” he replied. “What does it mean?”

“You mean you’ve never heard of Orda?” Zelda asked. She came over to Orda’s pen and reached up to the horse’s muzzle. The horse lowered its head to touch the princess’ hand. “She’s a good girl, she is…” said Zelda, rubbing Orda’s nose lovingly. “Orda is named after the Goddess of Time.” When Link looked perplexed she elaborated. “Most Hylians only worship the three Golden Goddesses for whom the Triforce is named; Din—Goddess of Power, Faroe—Goddess of Courage, and Nayru—Goddess of Wisdom. But the Temple of Time was built to honor all of the Goddesses, not just the ones who created Hyrule. There is also a Goddess of Time—Orda. Not many know her name but she is always there, sending us off when we start a quest, expecting us to use our precious time to the fullest, and waiting for us at the close of every journey, expecting us to give an account of what we have done. She is the beginning, and also the ending, of every tale.”

Link felt as if he still had much to learn. He did not have much chance to ponder this, however, as Impa trotted up to them on Brynn, a solid brown mare. She led another horse, a white stallion, by the reins.

“Up you get, young ones,” said Impa. “The Goddess is urging us on.” She tossed the reins of the extra horse to Link. “This is Asphodel, Master Link. He will treat you well if you treat him in kind. Oh, no, child; you will ride with me,” she added, staring at Zelda, who was about to mount Asphodel.

“But Impa, please!”

“You may ride him on the way back…” Impa began—Zelda made a little hop and a squeal of giddiness—“…if we leave the ranch in time to get you into bed. Your father will be furious enough with me that I am letting you take your mother’s horse.”

“Oh, yes, Impa, I promise!”

“Then up with me,” Impa said, helping the princess into the saddle in front of her. Link was left trying to climb into the saddle of the white stallion. “You have ridden horses before, I presume, Master Link…”

“Yeah,” said Link, rolling on his stomach over the horse’s back. “They were just a lot smaller then…or I was…bigger,” he said, finally settling into the saddle. He was red-faced from the effort.

“Very well.” Impa now spoke quickly and clearly. “When we arrive we shall make no indication that you are other than yourself before you returned to us from the future. You have received permission from the king to commandeer a horse to speed you on your way to Zora’s Domain to deliver a message to the king of the Zoras. Any other conversation will follow unrelated matters. Reveal nothing about Ganondorf’s presence in Hyrule, and always refer to myself as Mistress Impa and the princess as Her Majesty. Is this understood?”

“Yes, ma’am…uh, Mistress Impa.”

“Isn’t he cute…?” Zelda mumbled quietly to Impa. Impa just sighed and kicked Brynn into a trot. Link managed to hold on as Asphodel followed them out of the stables.

* * *

Once Link had accustomed himself to riding in his unfamiliar size, the trip to the ranch was as pleasant as Link remembered, having traveled it with Epona more than once—more so, in fact, because the fields of Hyrule had not yet been desecrated by the power of Ganon as they had been in the future. Link took in the distinct scent of grass, trees and fresh evening air, and savored the golden-pink light of the setting sun over the low eastern mountains. He remembered the smell of loose soil as they passed clusters of peahats, shifting their blade-like roots in the dirt in nervous response to the horses’ passing. Things were as he remembered them, and it felt like too long ago that he had never even known this place…once, long ago, he thought he was just another Koroki child without a fairy.

He had learned so much on his travels through Hyrule, and through time. He had learned of his true Hylian heritage, and what it meant to have a real friend; a constant companion to teach him what he needed to know; to watch out for him, and warn him if danger was near; to guide his hand in battle, and comfort him if he was weary. As Link gazed at the setting sun, he thought he saw the bright orb flash blue just before winking out. Ever since leaving the Koroki Forest, he had always had Navi with him, and now she was gone. He knew that if he were lost, Navi would search in every tree, under every bush and deep inside every dungeon until she found him. He resolved to find her as soon as he could…as soon as he could get a horse.

And then, as a warm northerly breeze blew out to them from the ranch, Link heard the call of another friend on the wind. A familiar neigh reached his pointed ears and he kicked his mount into a gallop. “Epona!” he called out.

Impa and Zelda were close behind when Link reached the ranch’s entrance. He grabbed the rope of the bell that hung from the archway as he passed, letting it clang haphazardly. As the track came into view, he squinted in the waning light to find the young foal. Just as Brynn stopped behind Asphodel, Link had already dismounted and was running toward the fence of the track. Zelda dismounted as well, ignoring her nursemaid’s reminders about her bedtime, and joined Link on the fence. In the middle of the horse-pen, grazing next to her dam, was Epona.

Link tried for all he was worth to whistle the song that Malon had taught him (what seemed like) so long ago. When he could not whistle he tried to hum, but it was still not loud enough for the song to carry to the middle of the pen. He cursed himself for not asking for an ocarina before he left the castle…then he remembered that Zelda must still have the Ocarina of Time. She had yet to give it to his other self. Then a light came out of the front door of the house and he knew he would have to speak quickly.

“Zelda, listen,” he began. At that moment she looked as if he were the only interesting thing she had ever seen. “You have to give me the Ocarina of Time.” Then her face changed from interest to disbelief.

“Give you the Ocarina?” Zelda hand came up to the lump hanging from her neck. “I can’t…my mother gave…”

Link could see the figure of Talon approaching with a lantern. “Not now, later. Tomorrow, when my other self gets to the city gate, you’ll throw the Ocarina to me. I’ll need it to get the Master Sword.”

“But…” Zelda hesitated. Talon was talking to Impa, now. She had just finished lashing the horses to a post. “But Rauru said he didn’t want you to get in. I know I said I wanted you to get the other stones so we could get the Triforce before that Evil Man in my dream, but…” Talon and Impa were walking toward them. “But what if it doesn’t work?”

“Quiet. They’re here,” said Link.

Talon raised his lantern high so he could see the two children. He was a medium-sized man with a larger-than-medium-sized belly. His tasseled night-cap came down to his thick bushy eyebrows. He ran one of his plump fingers under his black mustached nose as he peered at the lit faces before him with droopy eyes.

“Well!” said Talon, “if this ain’t a pleasant surprise! I heard the bell; if I’d a-known that you’d be comin’, Yer Majesty, I’d a-gotten Mally up outta bed.”

“Hello Talon,” said Zelda. “How’s the ranch.”

“Oh, jes’ fine,” said Talon. “And how’s my best chicken hunter, eh?” Talon gave Link a playful nudge with his elbow. “Come back to marry my daughter after all, did’ja?” Link’s face burned hot as he noticed Zelda glare at him disapprovingly. Link looked away. He wished for a sudden breeze to blow out the lantern. “Oh, don’t worry Zelly. I already told him she’s not his type.” Now it was Zelda’s turn to be embarrassed. Thankfully, Impa cut in.

“Master Rancher, as I explained, our young friend here is on a mission from the king to visit Zora’s Domain tomorrow, and he will need a place for the night and a means of transport. Will you allow him a horse for his journey?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. No problem at all, Miss Impa. Anything fer the king.” Talon’s head bobbed long after he had finished talking. Then the sound of small feet on packed sod came from somewhere inside the horse-pen and soon a red-haired girl of Zelda’s age came running into the lantern light.

“Zelly! I’m so glad t’see you!” said the girl. Talon rolled his eyes and buried his face in his hand.

“Mal!” responded Zelda, swinging her legs over the fence elegantly and landing on the other side. The friends embraced.

“What’re you doin’ here?” said Malon.

“Oh, nothing,” responded Zelda. Link suddenly felt as if he had never existed.

“D’you wanna take Brynn around before we hit the sack? We could sleep under the stars tonight, right Poppa?” Malon turned eagerly to her abashed father. Talon was peeking at them through his fingers.

Zelda looked up at her nursemaid. Impa’s face was inscrutable. “Actually, Mal…I really should get going. I’ll come to visit soon, okay?”

“Aw, but Zelly, cain’t you just stay the night?”

“No, I really have to go,” Zelda admitted regretfully.

“Oh, alright. Well, I’ll have to show you what I bin doin’ with Hossel when you come next; he trots right nice, now.”

“Sure,” said Zelda happily, and the friends embraced again.

“Okay, now, Missy,” Talon said, wagging a thick finger at his daughter, “you git up in bed afore I’m after you with a horse-whip!”

“Oh, Poppa,” Malon sighed, shaking her head. “I’ll let you talk to Miss Impa if you want.” She leaned over the fence to kiss her father on the cheek. “G’night, Miss Impa,” she said, and ducked between the rails of the fence before running back to the house, her red braid swinging behind her. Talon’s face might have outmatched his daughter’s hair in color.

“I believe that we must regrettably take our leave of you as well, Master Rancher. Come Your Majesty.” Zelda obeyed, avoiding Link entirely. When she and Impa were out of the lantern light Talon watched Link peer into the darkness after them.

“You, uh…you wantin’ ter git fixed up fer bed, then?” asked Talon.

Link looked at the rancher suspiciously. “Wasn’t Malon already supposed to be in bed?”

Talon just nodded, a regretful look on his face. He clicked his tongue. “That Miss Impa’s a right strict woman, ain’t she?” he said.

“Yep.” Link sighed. “Do you suppose they all grow up to be like that?”

“One thing you learn bein’ a rancher, son. They never grow how you raise ‘em. They grow how they want, and you jes’ have to live with it.”

* * *

When Zelda and Impa had passed the ranch’s outer gate they paused together. Facing their hands inward, small red lights grew in front of each of them; little hovering fires. These flames provided enough light to see the road by, and allowed Impa and Zelda to maintain sight of one another. Asphodel and Brynn walked instinctively without their riders having to direct them.

“I am very proud of you, you know,” said Impa as they started on the road back to the castle. “You made the choice to leave on your own. That is a sign of maturity.”

“Well,” said Zelda. “I did want to ride Asphodel.”

“Yes, but you could have stayed…”

Zelda looked straight forward. “What was there to stay for?”

“There was Mistress Malon. And did you not meet well with Master Link?”

Zelda sighed. “No, Impa, I suppose I didn’t.” They passed some moments in silence. “He asked me to give him the Ocarina tomorrow.” She looked discouraged.

Impa’s voice remained unweighted. “And will you?”

“Well…no. Why should I? Rauru said he didn’t want Link to get in.” Impa remained quiet for some time. “Do you think I should give it to him, Impa?”

“That is your choice, child. I cannot make it for you.”

Zelda was pensive, then: “Rauru said that a sword in the hands of the right person saved the daughters of Hyrule. You told Rauru that you thought Link was that kind of person didn’t you?”

“Do you believe Master Link is the forest-child from your dream?”

“Yes.”

“And do you feel that he will part the clouds of darkness that threaten the land?”

Zelda thought longer about this, then: “I believe I should give the Ocarina to him. I believe the Goddesses sent him to us.”

“Then it seems you have made your decision,” Impa said.

Zelda looked at her nursemaid with fondness. “Thank you Impa,” Zelda said.

“Whatever for, child? I told you nothing.”

“For letting me choose for myself.”

Impa smiled. “You are wise, young one. I am very proud of you.” And as the spires of the castle loomed sharp against the gritty blue night, two little fires found their way among the darkness.

Chapter IV ~ The Castle Sieged

2008-03-13T13:21:00.010-05:00

Link awoke the next morning refreshed, yawning widely. When his eyes opened properly, he realized that someone else was in his room. It was a girl with red hair sitting on a stool. She was wearing a nightgown.

“Malon!” Link cried out, pulling the covers up over his long underwear. His tunic and cap lay strewn where he had left them the night before: in the corner behind the door on the opposite side of the room. “Turn around or something…”

“Why, Link, I seen cows give birth; I cert’nly don’t care about long night-britches. ‘Sides, this is my room, proper, and if you don’t like it you can git another room.”

Link decided he would compromise by tucking the bedcovers up to his neck and hoping she would go away. “What are you doing in here anyway?” he asked.

“Poppa said I should kip an eye on you, so here I am.”

“Where is he?”

“Out feedin’ the horses…he says Miss Impa says the king says you kin have one…”

“Oh…yeah.” Then he remembered Epona. “Hey! Do you think I could take Epona with me?”

“I figger it’s up t’Epona, but I don’t reckon she’d mind. She’s awful fond of you, you know…” Malon winked at him.

“…yeah,” said Link, trying to think of a way to get to his clothes. “Um, so what were you doing outside last night? Your dad said you were in bed.”

“Oh, that. I was just talkin’ to Hossel, tellin’ him what a good job he’d done, slippin’ him a few carrots. Poppa says we ain’t got enough carrots as it is, but I figger Hossel done so good he d’served it. Poppa says there’s ghosts out there at night, so he don’t like it when I’m out, but I jes’ wanted to say hi…to Hossel that is.” This sounded like an awful long explanation to Link.

“Okay…” Link said, narrowing his eyes. Malon looked like she had a worm in her nightgown.

“Okay, you finagled it outta me! I heard Epona neigh like that an’ I knew you was comin’. She ain’t neighed like that since you left. I reckon she likes you…”

“Yeah, you said that…” Link said, clenching the bedcovers. “So…” he thought he could get to his tunic if he could distract her…if only he had something to throw.

“So Poppa says you kin git somethin’ t’eat whenever you’re awake, so now that you’re awake you kin git somethin’ t’eat…if you want.”

“Um, okay,” said Link, cursing himself for not asking for a slingshot before he left the castle.

“Or I could git you somethin’ t’eat…” she suggested reluctantly. Link was overjoyed; this was his chance! “…but only if you promise not to run off afore I hear all about where you bin an’ where you’re goin’. It gits awful boring when there ain’t no visitors.”

Link decided it was a fair trade; it was the only way she would leave. “Deal,” he said. Malon smiled, slid off the stool and ran to the door, her red braid whipping behind her. Link was poised, ready to dive for his clothes.

Then Malon stopped at the door. “You stay here, now! You promised.”

“Okay,” he said, settling back under the covers. Satisfied, she left the room. Moments later he heard her footsteps thumping down the stairs.

Link threw the covers back and ran to the door. Swinging it shut, he retrieved his clothes and threw them on, grabbing his belt from where it hung over the chair, and his boots from under the window. He considered leaving his sword and shield by the dresser at the foot of the bed, but decided against it. He never knew when he might be in a hurry to leave.

***

Talon came in for breakfast. They had bacon, eggs, warm milk (“freshly squeezed this mornin’,” said Talon), and bread with butter. Link had forgotten that in his haste the day before, he had not had anything to eat. He gorged himself like a ravenous wolf.

“Slow down there, youngin’. It’ll still be there in five minutes,” said Talon lowering a platter of sizzling sausages to the table. He sat and helped himself to some eggs. “Mally, you comin’?” he hollered. Link could hear Malon respond from upstairs.

“Yeah.” Her voice got closer. “Poppa, have you seen Li—” she stopped in the dining room doorway with a platter of food in her hands. “Oh.” She looked displeased.

Link paused with a sausage halfway out of his mouth. He tried to swallow it as quickly as possible so he could talk, but when he tried to speak he only succeeded in getting things down the wrong way. He coughed fiercely.

“Mal, I think he needs help!” said Talon with alarm.

Malon slammed the platter on the table. “Let him choke,” she said, grabbing a piece of bread and storming past Link out the back door.

Link gulped down half of his milk. When he recovered, he saw what was on the platter Malon had brought in. The scrambled eggs had been arranged in the shape of a horse and two slices of bacon suggested a road under the horse’s legs. The milk had spilled over the head of a daisy garnishing a slice of buttered bread. Link suddenly felt like sinking into a puddle on the floor. He hurriedly gathered as much food as he could, threw it on his plate, and turned to run out the back door.

“Wait, Link!” hollered Talon. “Take yer milk!” Link returned only long enough to grab the pitcher of milk and run out the door again.

Malon was sitting with her back to the house on the far side of a large metal tub. Next to the chicken coop were a few chickens who she was feeding with little bits of bread. Link could hear her talking.

“…like my breakfast don’t you, little cuckoos. Yeah, that dirty, rotten boy don’t…”

Link cleared his throat. “Do you want something to eat?” he asked meekly.

Malon turned around quickly and then hid her face again. “Link! What? Go away…” Link thought she might have been crying.

“I, uh…I brought you some food,” he said, waving the plate in the air; a sausage fell to the ground. She didn’t look. He stepped a little closer. “Hey, um…I’m sorry I didn’t stay in my room…” he began.

“My room. You promised,” she said, turning away.

“Sorry,” he said, and immediately felt foolish for repeating himself. He put down the plate of sausages and the pitcher of milk and sat on the edge of the metal tub next to her. She pulled her braid around in front of her and began twirling the end in her fingers.

“How did you get to the kitchen?” she asked without taking her attention off her braid. When he didn’t answer she looked up at Link. He tossed his head toward the house. There, hanging from the bedroom window, blowing in the cool morning breeze, were two bed sheets tied together. Malon could not help but laugh. It was clear and honest, and it made Link feel as if she could not hate him. Not really.

Link tried to think of something that would make her happy. “Do you think we could go see Epona?” Link asked.

“I don’t rightly know,” said Malon. “She might be upset with you right now.”

“Maybe you could talk to her for me…”

“Maybe. You’ll have to call her, though.”

Link looked at his boots. “I don’t have an ocarina…” he said disappointedly.

“Neither do I,” said Malon. “How d’you think I call her?”

Link’s face turned hot against the cool air. “Yeah, but…well, you sing good.” When she smiled and looked at her braid again he realized she had taken this as a compliment.

“Maybe you could whistle,” she suggested. Link was beginning to believe that he was the only one in all of Hyrule who couldn’t whistle. When Malon saw Link hesitate she said, “You can whistle, cain’t you? You cain’t!” She was sincerely surprised.

He shrugged. “…maybe you could tell me how, I guess.”

“You just blow,” she said. “Like this.” And she whistled at one of the chickens in the yard. It ruffled its feathers and cocked its head. “You try.” Link was less successful; he just mimicked playing the ocarina.

“No, here,” said Malon, “like this.” She placed a palm on either side of his cheeks and pressed them together. The result was more comical than functional, and when Link tried to blow no sound came out. “Gah, I reckon I oughtta not try that right after breakfast.” Malon made a face, waving a hand in front of her

Link grimaced. “Oh, sorry,” he said. “Sausages.”

“Yeah, well, they smelled better on the plate.” They both laughed. “You got any more over there?”

“Sure,” he said, glad to hear her laugh again. “One fell on the ground, so…” he handed her the plate. “It doesn’t look as nice as yours, but…”

“That’s okay,” she said, reaching for an untouched sausage. “I burn more’n I eat, most times. Poppa does pritty good with flapjacks, but I reckon I give ‘im a fair shake.” She bit into one of the sausages and decided against eating the rest. “Cold anyhow,” she said setting it down. Then she grabbed his hand and pulled him off the metal tub. “C’mon, let’s go see Epona. She might like you now.” Link thought this was the closest thing he would ever get to Malon accepting his apology. Even so, he was glad of it. For once in his life, he started to feel like he belonged somewhere.

* * *

“Something here does not belong,” said Impa as she scanned the crowds in the market with her red Sheikah eyes. “Do not look at them, child,” said Impa, quickening her pace through the streets.

“But why, Impa?” said Zelda, dutifully bowing her head.

“They are Gerudo thieves.”

Zelda turned her head only slightly to look at a figure out of the corner of her eye. It was a redheaded female, shrouded with brightly colored gauze and wearing ballooned pants, shoes with upturned toes and a veil over her face. The Hylian people wore attractive clothing, to be sure, but nothing as colorful or revealing as the desert-woman. She certainly stood out. The Gerudo woman also had round ears, whereas the Sheikahs and the Hylians both had pointed ears. She was talking to a flower merchant, and obviously getting on very well; the man who ran the stall pulled the most delicate and brightly colored of his flowers out of an arrangement and gave it to her. “But there is only one, Impa. What do you mean ‘they’?”

“There are more. She is their decoy. So long as she is the brightest thing in the crowd, the rest cannot be seen for what they are…” Impa guided the princess into an alley and ducked behind two barrels. “There, do you see?” she said, keeping her voice low. “The figure wearing the tattered brown cloth next to the corner stall; she is pretending the beggar with her bowl and picking the people’s pockets as they pass. And there, behind the cloth merchant—one is helping herself to Freya’s silks. A shame,” Impa added, noticing the pattern of the cloth. “I had my eye on that silk.”

Zelda saw the figures Impa had described, but she had not realized they were there until Impa had pointed them out. “But the beggar’s ears are pointed…” she contended.

“The Gerudo thieves are capable of many things, not the least of which is costume deception,” replied Impa. “The ears are fakes.”

Zelda had never thought of trying so hard to be something she was not—and so that she could steal from people, no less. “They should be stopped,” said Zelda, incredulously. “They should be punished.”

“And how would you stop them, young one? They would claim they were about their own business and make you the fool. No, child, there is no time for foolishness, today. Come,” she said, and continued down the alley until she came to the junction of another backstreet. Assuring there were no more thieves about, Impa escorted the princess out into the street. The buildings on either side loomed high over their heads; the shops and apartments intermingled with one another. Rarely a larger edifice would stand on its own, but it would be closely flanked on both sides. There were few places for enemies to hide, but enough to keep Impa from slowing down. The mid-day sun winked through wisps of cloud.

In minutes they reached a humble building with a sign that bore an image of a mortar and pestle, and next to it was the image of a bottle with liquid in it. Standing outside were the Darknaughts; the king’s four bodyguards. They did not hinder Impa or Zelda.

Impa knelt beside the princess outside the door. “The doctor is working, now, so you must not distract him. Only speak to your father, but do not tax him. They still are not certain what manner of sickness this might be.”

Zelda wondered what had happened to her father. He had seemed fine the day before last when she tried to tell him about her dream. She hadn’t really spoken to him since then, except to say goodnight to him when he came to her room, as he did every night.

They entered the doctor’s office; a relatively clean, if sparsely furnished, room. It had four or five divisions with plush mattresses on the floor for the patients and sitting pillows for the visitors. When Impa and Zelda entered the doctor poked his venerable head out from one of the divisions to see who it was. His large glasses made him seem to have eyes that were far too big for his head.

“What now!?” the doctor grumbled. Then he noticed who it was. “Oh, yes, I’ve just finished with him for now. I’ll attend to my other patient…but I must have more time with him. Very difficult, very difficult…” He waggled his head as he shuffled to the other side of the room where he kept his instruments behind one of the partitions. Zelda passed the first division, which was empty. In the second lay her father. He had been stripped of his usual kingly attire, instead wearing a long cotton nightshirt. Three layers of blankets had been pulled up to his belly. He was pale, and his head lolled back and forth. He was mumbling.

“…never should have let him in…”

“Daddy?” said Zelda, sitting on one of the pillows next to her father. Impa stood by. “Daddy, how do you feel?”

“Hmm?” said the king, looking at his daughter with wayward eyes. “How do I…? Here, let me…” The king tried to sit up, but looked to be having difficulty.

“No, Daddy, don’t; you’re sick.” She gently held her father in place. Then she took one of the sitting pillows and propped his head with it. “Are you any better?”

“Yes, my love, thank you,” he said, closing his eyes dully. “I’m just a little sick, that’s all.” Impa could hear the doctor administering to the patient in the next division. She heard the soft clinking of glass bottles and the doctor mumbled something about “…all of it, yes…”

“Daddy, we took Link to the ranch yesterday. I saw Malon.”

“Oh, good…yes, how is the ranch?” His speech was slurred.

Zelda looked at her father with concern. “Malon wants to show me what she can do with Hossel. She said…” Little pools welled in her eyes. “Daddy, are you going to get better?” Impa heard the female patient groan and then say “…fine…” and then “…take it with me…”

“I’ll do my best, darling…” mumbled the king. “I know I didn’t get to say goodnight to you last night…” When Impa heard this, her eyes flew to the king.

“What do you mean, Daddy? You came in and said goodnight. You always do…” Then Impa sprang to the next partition, eyes wide. Laying there on the mattress was a Hylian woman wearing one of the doctor’s nightshirts. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was arguing with the doctor in a low voice.

“No, I can just take it with me. I’m fine old man, now shush…” But then she noticed Impa watching her. “What do you want? Can’t a person get a little privacy?”

Impa did not look away from the woman as she spoke. “Doctor, how many patients have you seen since the king was admitted?”

The doctor released his grip on the small vial of red liquid in his hand. The woman held it where it was. “Oh, a steady stream, I’d say. There must be something going around…”

“How many of them have been female?”

“Oh, I don’t know…quite a few, I suppose. Here, now, what’s this about? I’m very busy.”

“Doctor, I wonder if there isn’t something you need to attend to in your study…some paperwork, perhaps.” Impa still stared at the woman. The woman calmly met her gaze.

“Not that I know of, young lady. See here, I’m very busy with my patients, I think it’s time that you left, anyhow…” The Hylian woman stretched and placed her hands behind her head.

“Impa, what’s going on?” asked Zelda. She had joined her nursemaid by the partition. Then, just when she thought Impa wasn’t looking, the Hylian woman slipped the vial of red liquid into her hair just behind her ponytail. Impa noticed, but did not let on.

“Finished visiting, have you? Good. I’ll get back to work, then. Difficult, very difficult…” The doctor shambled out of the space and in to the one next to it to see to the king again.

“I think I might be able to lighten your workload, doctor. One of your patients is about to check out.” And without warning Impa leapt upon the Hylian woman—in moments the Hylian woman’s hands were pinned beneath Impa’s knees. Then Impa had her hidden long-knife out of its sheath and at the woman’s neck. Zelda gasped and hid herself behind the partition. “Why was Ganondorf posing as the king of Hyrule last night?” Impa hissed. “Speak!”

The doctor thrust his head out from behind the partition. “See here, what’s this all about?” he said in an agitated squeal. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“You haven’t been treating patients this morning, doctor,” Impa said, never taking her eyes off her captive. “You’ve been entertaining spies…hasn’t he!?” she roared in the Hylian woman’s face.

The woman’s expression was one of loathing and disdain, but she did not speak. The doctor was aghast.

“Your ‘patients’ have been Gerudo thieves. And they have been eavesdropping on your work, maintaining the king’s poor health while your back was turned. Tell me, traitor,” Impa said, addressing the woman, “what poison your Lord Ganondorf administered to the king and I will let you live long enough to tell me why he was in the princess’ room last night impersonating His Majesty.” Her knife indented the flesh of the woman’s neck.

“Now, ladies, let’s just be calm,” the doctor said, shaking with adrenaline. “If my patients were Gerudo thieves, why have they all resembled Hylians?”

“She’s no Hylian,” hissed Impa. “Her deceit disgraces the noble Hylia.” And with her free hand Impa pulled away what looked to Zelda to be two ears made of a flexible wax. As they came off the woman winced and her round ears were exposed. Both Zelda and the doctor gasped.

“Now talk,” said Impa, “or I’ll send you back to the desert without a tongue.” The woman was breathing heavily, but she did not move or speak. Impa pressed her weapon into the woman’s neck, threatening.

Then, the woman’s eyes flickered only marginally to one side. It was enough to warn Impa, however, who lay back, avoiding the swipe of a scimitar as it tore through the partition next to her. The king was still delirious on Impa’s other side. The doctor yelped, running out of his office screaming hysterically.

“Zelda, protect your father!” Impa yelled. Zelda obeyed, kneeling at the side of her father’s mattress, muttering words in an ancient language, and suddenly a prism of blue light surrounded the princess and the king.

Impa brought her head up and back down again on the forehead of her captive, knocking the Gerudo unconscious. The scimitar swiped through the partition at another angle, narrowly missing Impa’s shoulder. She rolled with the swing of the sword and pulled three small objects from her girdle, tossing them over the partition at her attacker. There were three white flashes and a female cry from behind the partition. Impa took advantage of the moment to roll backward and get to her feet. Just then the partition shattered with a final, haphazard swipe of the scimitar, splinters and debris covering the body of the unconscious Gerudo ‘patient.’

For the first time Impa saw the wielder of the curved blade. She was dressed in dark, tight-fitting clothing, her red hair pulled back into a ponytail, a dark veil covering her face. “How did you get past the king’s guard, traitor?” Impa hissed.

“It wasn’t difficult. They are naught but suits of armor. The true ‘Darknaughts’, as the Hylians say, are asleep in the dungeons; drugged. And before you speak of traitors, Sheikah wench, you should know your own.”

Impa was poised, considering her opponent. She knew the thief was stalling until she could regain her full eyesight. “Speak plainly, vagabond! Spit your venom.” Impa challenged. She brandished her long-knife. The king of Hyrule lay still on his mattress. Zelda watched her nursemaid from behind the protective prism.

“We Gerudo may have betrayed the pontificating coward to whom our king swore allegiance,” said the desert-thief, “but your people betrayed their own Master. Poor Mudora; killed by his own servant.”

The words hit Impa like a hammer to an anvil. The woman was trying to catch her off guard. “Lies,” she challenged again. “Who among the Sheikah would betray their own Master?”

“Do you not know, Impa of the Sheikah?” Impa was astonished to find that this thief knew her name. The Gerudo woman stepped slowly and deliberately toward the Sheikah nursemaid, who was poised and tense. “Yes, nursemaid, I know you. I know how you loved Mudora as your own father. I know how you would sneak away glances of his writings, even though you knew you were not allowed. I know how your curiosity got you sent away to be a brat’s nursemaid. I know how you hated your brother for becoming Mudora’s servant. I know how you resented him for being favored more than you. Oh, yes, Impa. It was your brother who killed Mudora. You should be more careful who you call traitor when you have one in the family…” She was standing very close to Impa, now. Her sword was at her side; passive. Impa’s knife came up to the Gerudo’s neck.

Impa knew she was in a very dangerous position, but she wanted the Gerudo woman to keep talking. “How…how do you know this?” she asked, steeling herself, reinforcing her will to not allow this thief to take advantage of her. “My brother has been missing for over ten years.”

The Gerudo woman leaned forward, her eyes meeting Impa’s. She whispered: “because I have known him these past ten years…”

Indignation! The shame she suggested! A furious anger rose inside Impa’s throat, almost breaking her will to control it. Impa would have slit the Gerudo’s neck if a Hylian soldier did not open the door at that very moment. Then there was a flash of white and when Impa turned the Dark Gerudo was gone.

“Mistress Impa!” said the soldier, saluting. “The doctor alerted us. Where is the disturbance?” Other soldiers were filing in behind the first.

Impa ignored him entirely. “Zelda, come. We must leave. Now!”

“But my father…” she protested. The protective prism vanished.

Impa turned to the first soldier. “Detain and gag the woman. You will guard the king at all costs. None are to enter unless you are given orders to the contrary by the Captain of the Royal Guard himself. You are now the ‘castle walls.’ If the king fails, Hyrule fails. You,” said Impa, addressing the last soldier, “find the Captain. Tell him Gerudo thieves are seizing the town and soon they will arrive at the castle. Go. Now!” The soldier bowed, turned and was gone. “Come, child. We’ve no time. Come!” she said, grabbing Zelda by the hand.

* * *

Impa led Zelda through every backstreet she knew, always wending toward the castle. Around them there were sounds of pandemonium. From down the side-streets the merchants of the market could be heard hollering to each other in dismay. Faintly, Zelda could hear the singing of steel on steel and Hylian voices shouting orders. "What's going on, Impa?" Zelda asked her hurried nursemaid, but Impa was steel-faced and resolute, and she did not answer.

In what seemed like moments, they reached the main courtyard of the town. Soldiers were filing out of the north gate in dozens. They jogged toward the southern entrance to the city, their spears in hand. People emerged from the shops in alarm to see what the commotion was about. "Stay calm," Zelda could hear one of the soldiers say. "Just return to your homes. Leave this to us..." Quickly, while everyine else's attention was directed elsewhere, Impa led Zelda in through the north gate of the town.

"He is drawing them away from the castle..." said Impa, as if to herself.

"Who is, Impa?" Zelda asked, still alarmed by her nursemaid's haste and relative silence. Only when they came into view of the main castle gate did she speak.

Impa gasped. "He is leaving us defenseless..." she muttered. Impa took them past the empty post of the gate guard around the extreme perimeter of the castle to one of the castle's few hidden back entrances, near the waterway surrounding the castle. Zelda stopped, out of breath.

“Impa, what are we doing?!” she said, leaning against the stone wall next to the hidden entrance. It was concealed by a mat of vines. Impa scanned the perimeter and drew the vines away from the wall. “Impa, what’s going on!?”

“Do not speak, child. Follow me, now.” Impa ducked inside. Zelda threw up her hands and followed her nursemaid, letting the vines drop behind her.

Impa led her up staircases, inside low horizontal shafts, and through the narrow spaces between walls. Zelda could not tell where they were going, but in moments she recognized the hallway that led to her bedroom through a thin break in the wall. Impa pushed against the wall and it opened like a door. They stepped out into the hallway, Impa always scanning the area ahead.

“What are we doing, Impa…?” Zelda whispered.

Impa silenced the princess with a finger to her lips. She made the signal for intruder using the hand signs the Sheikah had taught none but the Royal Family and the Knights of Hyrule. “There is someone in your bedroom,” Impa explained, still using the hand signs.

Impa’s communication was confirmed when Zelda heard the sounds of shifting furniture coming from her room, two doors away. The candles on the walls were unlit, the only light coming from the windows inside Zelda’s bedroom. A square of dim daylight spilled into the hallway from the open door.

As the two crept toward the door, the sounds coming from the bedroom became louder. There was a poof! as of the sound of pillows being thrown, the clinking of trinkets, the sliding of drawers. Then Impa edged one eye around the corner. There, black against the light from the window, was the figure of a man with round ears. The figure suddenly froze. Impa quickly drew back from the door, and then she saw the shadow of the man lengthen across the floor of the hallway, stopping short of revealing the man from which it was cast.

Impa held Zelda tightly in her arms, pressing her hand over the princess’ mouth. Zelda was wide-eyed and frantic. Seconds seemed like minutes, but the shadow did not move even the least. Then the light coming from the window darkened and the shadow vanished as the world went black. Immediately Impa was around the doorframe with her knife drawn, ready to attack. But there was no one there. The window was open, the open curtains blowing languidly in the breeze. And outside the window was darkness—an unnatural night claiming the sky hours before it was due. Not even the stars could be seen. This was powerful magic.

Zelda's scream came from the hallway. Too late, Impa rushed into the hallway, lighting a small globe of fire before her to shed light where she went…but nothing. The princess was gone. Then Zelda screamed again, the sound quickly diminishing, as if she were falling. Impa ran to catch the sound.

The nursemaid rushed to the staircase leading to the lower floors. Far below she saw the form of the black man as he landed on the marble floor three flights down, apparently unharmed. The princess was in his clutches.

Bypassing the steps entirely, Impa leaped from the railing out to the chandelier. The stairs spiraled down below her in ever tightening circles. Impa acted quickly, pulling her body up into a ball, and then releasing her grip on the chandelier. She fell two stories and then disappeared in a puff of thin gray smoke, reappearing on the ground floor supported by three limbs. When the globe of fire caught up to her she snuffed it out; the way was already illuminated by small green globes of light.

The princess had left her a trail.

* * *

The Sages of Hyrule were gathered in the Inner Sanctum of the Temple. The stained-glass windows glowed dully in the cloudy late-afternoon. “Are we clear, then?” said Zethra.

“Only if Aako can do as he says,” growled Gor Darmon.

“Can,” said Aako confidently.

“Will you have enough time to do as Impa requested, Rauru?” asked Lutai.

“We shall see,” said Rauru, “if the Goddess of Time will smile down on us.”

Just then the Captain burst through the doors of the Inner Sanctum. “Ganondorf has made his move,” he said, nearly out of breath. “The thieves are attacking the town. He could invade the Temple at any moment.” At that moment the windows darkened, overcast with unnatural night.

The Sages stood up from their chairs. “Places, everyone,” said Rauru. “May Din preserve us.”

* * *

Link and Malon looked north over Hyrule field. The sky had become unnaturally dark as they were riding around the borders of the ranch. Link halted Epona, Malon held her foal still.

“What d’you reckon that is?” said Malon, incredulous.

“A storm?” suggested Link, playing dumb. “I may have to go to Zora’s Domain tomorrow, instead.”

“That don’t look like a storm t’me,” she responded. “We best git back inside.”

And they turned their horses around, riding at a full gallop toward the ranch.

* * *

The trail of green light had led Impa to the stables. There was no other exit, which meant that the princess had to be inside. But where was the Gerudo lord?

Suddenly a flash of purple crackled past Impa’s head and exploded somewhere behind her. It came from somewhere in the rafters. A dark voice called out from inside the stable: “Come down, little princess, and I promise I won’t hurt you…just tell me where you hid the instrument.”

“No!” came Zelda voice. A ball of red flame sprang to life before her, illuminating her face and body. She was standing on one of the crossbeams, surrounded by a blue prism. Then Zelda threw the ball of fire toward one of the stalls. Instead of exploding, the fire dissipated, but not before giving Impa a glimpse of the man; it was the Gerudo lord. “You hurt Brynn!” Zelda cried.

“I did nothing, brat,” replied the Gerudo man. “Your horse was too stupid to move out of my way.”

“She was protecting me!”

“She was foolish to test me…much like you. Now tell me where the instrument is hidden!” and he threw another crackling bolt of purple. Like the first it ricocheted off the blue prism and flew away, past Impa. The prism fluctuated, weakening. “Does the protection of your Goddess wane? It seems she does not love you as much as you thought,” sneered the man.

Impa crept to one side of the stables, climbing the edge of the horse’s pens. The horses were spooked, stamping and chomping their teeth nervously. Impa took advantage of the noise to hide her approach. She was close to the Gerudo lord; very close, now. He was sitting on a dark horse, the stall open. In the next stall over was Brynn, obviously dazed, tossing languidly in the hay of her pen. In a moment Impa would have her knife to the Gerudo lord’s his neck, and then…

But the Gerudo lord acted first. A flash of purple hit the beam on which the princess was standing and Impa watched as the beam shattered, Zelda teetered, lost her footing, and fell. In that same moment Impa jumped on the Lord of the Gerudo and planted her feet firmly on his shoulders, pushing herself toward the princess. The Gerudo man was thrown back, off his horse. Impa flew forward, catching Zelda in the air. Then they both disappeared with a puff!

Once the Gerudo lord recovered, he looked around rapidly. Then he froze. “Come out, nursemaid!” he said, mocking. “Show yourself!” When there was no response, he led his dark steed forward a few paces. “Tell me, nursemaid. Do you wish to see your brother again? He is here, you know…in the town. You may see him if you like…if you will join him as my servant. At least you would not be the first traitor in your family…”

And with this a ball of red fire leapt out from the darkness of Asphodel’s pen, striking the Gerudo lord in the face.

“I would never serve you, cursed interloper!” cried Impa. “Return to your false Gods!” The door to Asphodel’s pen flew open, and the white steed galloped out of the stables. In moments, the Gerudo lord recovered and was on his dark horse, pursuing the princess and her nursemaid through the streets.

Chapter V ~ Trap in the Temple

2008-03-13T13:11:00.024-05:00

Within the Temple of Time, things appeared exactly as they had before. The Door of Time was sealed, the altar before it bore three vacant hollows, and the deep-throated chanting of solemn monks wafted from the cloisters like incense. The common pilgrim would never know the difference, but one who happened to ponder a little longer than usual on the paintings in the side-chapels would have noticed the addition of five new portraits. Such a parishioner might wonder why the Captain of the Royal Guard and four of the Sages had been added to the icons of the Goddesses.

Due to a clever enchantment performed by Aako, the paintings had temporarily accepted their new occupants as readily as new paint. Gor Darmon was rolled up next to a dynamic likeness of Din, who was sculpting the mountains with bare, slender arms. Aako was perched on one of the lower branches of a great tree before which Faroe stood with arms stretched upward. Lutai now reclined on the fore-step of a throne upon which Nayru sat, straight and beautiful, her gown flowing from her knees like water. Zethra and the captain bowed like attendants on either side of a gray-draped figure holding a white sphere. Rauru held his position in the cloisters, prepared to give the signal at the proper moment; Link’s other self had to be sealed away in the Sacred Realm before the trap could be sprung.

The unnatural night had fallen thick on Castle Town. Most denizens of the town, perplexed by the premature twilight, quickly finished their business and shuffled away from the markets. More curious souls lurked in the alleys near the town’s central courtyard to see if the dark Gerudo man might appear; a sight which was as rare to them as seeing the Goddesses themselves. When it seemed nothing was going to happen, even those few who remained began to disperse; until the air suddenly charged like the onset of a fierce thunderstorm. Dogs began to howl at invisible enemies; cats haunting the streets jumped as the clack of distant hooves startled them, interrupting their nocturnal prowling. The night’s events had begun.

The report of horseshoes on cobblestones echoed past the Temple. Then, moments later, another set of hooves followed. It would not be long now. Link’s other self would be just outside the town walls. The portraits of the Sages waited quietly, anxiety brooding in the dimness of the side-chapels as they watched the nave intently for the boy to enter. Then, the clank of the bolt, the creak of the great hinges as the door swung open. And there, wearing damp green clothes and standing in a pool of water, was the Hero.

The boy moved quickly. He crossed the circular seal of the Sage of Light set into the floor, his boots falling quietly on the thick plush red carpet leading to the altar. Once he reached the altar he scooped from the leather bag at his side three medium-sized gems, placing them carefully in each of the stone hollows. The boy waited only moments for each gem to settle into its steady rotation, levitating inches above the surface of the altar. The Spiritual Stones flickered in the gloomy candlelight. Then, standing precisely on the crest of the royal family embroidered on the carpet beneath his feet, the boy drew the Ocarina of Time from his bag.

The breathy alto notes of the instrument echoed across the nave and into the side-chapels as Link played the melody that would unlock the Door of Time. The ghostly bass of monastic voices repeated the solemn strain from behind the cloisters. Rauru listened as the giant stone slab lifted from its resting position, grinding grayly as it opened what he had closed over ten years ago. This was necessary, he told himself. They could not capture the man who would become the King of Evil with no bait. Still, if something should go wrong…he could not bear to think of what it might mean. Were they letting the Gerudo Lord in without cause, handing the kingdom over while the Sages of Hyrule hid in the shadows, while he, Rauru, stood by and let him do it? But he convinced himself there would be time to consider these questions.

Link returned the Ocarina to his bag, and circumvented the altar. Zethra watched from her hiding-place until the Door of Time was high enough and Link crept into the darkness of the stairway.

“Captain,” whispered Zethra from within the painting, “I do not know whether we shall survive this. Our fates may yet be sealed.”

“I shall protect you until the last, my queen,” the captain murmured. “If one of us is to die, I pray Din take me. If both, Nayru keep us, but I shall go first.”

“Yes, but if Din should take me alone, I would tell you that…”

The captain cut her off sharply, “I would fall upon my sword, for dishonor. Din forbid!”

“Captain, stay your duty for one moment! The boy is…”

But she did not finish, for the sound of the temple doors opening further silenced her. In moments, the figure of a tall man in black leather armor came into sight. From his shoulders hung a tattered cloth cape. This was the King of Evil, Colin thought, and within him there rose contempt for the man. Colin knew what the man had done, the crimes he had caused to be committed, but he had never before seen him. If he had ever thought about it previously, it was nothing like the actuality of the sinister black figure before him. Now that he could see the Lord Ganondorf he could put a half-lit face to the crimes, and almost more than anything he wanted to punish the man.

Ganondorf paused, peering around him in the dark. All was silence; the monks had even ceased their evening prayers. Then Ganondorf raised one black fist. What was he doing? Huddling close to one another, two more black figures passed the chapels to join their master; one masculine, one feminine. They had reached the bottom of the staircase as silent as breath and crossed the nave without so much as brushing a toe against the carpet. For all Colin knew they might have been ghosts.

Colin addressed his queen, daring speech as mutedly as he could manage. “Majesty there should not be three, the boy told us one...”

“Captain, hush!” Zethra cautioned. But it was too late; the female figure turned to look their direction. Like the others she was darkly garbed, but at her waist hung a scimitar. Zethra and Colin froze in place. The thieves were so still, their bodies poised to react; it seemed to Colin that they could have been statues. Statues staring at paintings, he mused, each daring the other to blink. But then the female stepped forward on silent toes, peering into the side chapel, past the hazy smoke of the candelabrum. In a moment Colin and Zethra would be discovered. All was lost, their trap ruined. The muscles of Colin’s arm tensed as his mind reached out to his sword hilt, ready to draw it in a moment. But then the Gerudo Lord hissed almost inaudibly to his thieves and signed something. Quickly, Ganondorf bounded to the entrance of the Sanctuary and the other two took up positions on either side of the archway that, minutes before, had been the sealed Door of Time.

Once the thieves were past the side-chapels, silent sighs of relief came from the paintings within. The Sages and the captain crept from their hiding places, silently pushing out of the paintings as from pools of thickened water. They emerged clean and unruffled; as if they had not been composed of pigment on canvas moments before. From where Zethra stood, behind the column adjoining the chapel, she could see the Dark Lord enter the stairwell leading up to the Sanctuary.

After a moment, a spitting and crackling of large amounts of energy could be heard throughout the temple. Golden light poured from the Sanctuary increasing the brightness of the nave ten times over. For a moment a sting of fear ran through the Sages; the thieves would see them in this much light! But then a horrific red laugh was heard over the crackling. Immediately following it was the clang of metal on stone. Far above the nave, in the high tower cresting the Temple of Time, Rauru sounded the bells of the carillon in their tremulous announcement: the Sanctuary had been penetrated by evil. The thieves responded immediately, abandoning their posts and bounding up the staircase.

The Sages animated, reacting to the clang of the bells, the signal that Link had been transported to the Sacred Realm. Throwing stealth to the wind, Gor Darmon bent over and, in a moment, had rolled across the nave, spitting chips of marble from under his hard, stony Goron back. He was up the stairway in another moment. Lutai dropped to one knee and let Aako throw his green-clad arms around her finned shoulders before she bounded towards the staircase on flippered feet, Aako’s small child form swaying lightly on her back. Zethra was the last to climb the staircase, preceded by her dutiful guard.

* * *

Past the ranch and halfway across the fields of Hyrule, Impa heard the peal of the warning bells, halted the horse in its flight, turned, and sped back from where they had come; back toward Hyrule’s Castle Town; back to the Temple of Time.

From within the cradle of Impa’s toned white arms, Zelda gazed at the city she loved and was duty-bound to serve. Far in the distance it should have twinkled like a cluster of stars, if it were not overshadowed by a cloud just blacker than the velvet night. She wondered in her child’s heart whether she might ever see it whole again, as she did now; the pristine castle with her noble ramparts, proud towers and graceful buttresses; the town spread out below, full of honest, good people who served the Goddesses. The scene blurred as a fog of tears welled in her eyes. Now there was, within the most sacred of places, an evil that would mercilessly extinguish all of those lives. And she had given it admittance. By delivering the Ocarina of Time to Link, she had given her people over to that evil. As Asphodel galloped under the thick, unnatural night, a sick feeling rooted itself in Zelda’s stomach. She had betrayed her people. What selfish acts, she thought, might yet defame the house of Hyrule?

Impa and Zelda arrived at Lon Lon Ranch a short time after hearing the bells toll from above the temple. Malon opened the gate for them. Impa addressed Malon directly:

“A fresh horse,” Impa said as she dismounted, nearly out of breath. She was much better off than Asphodel, whose mouth was flecked with foam. “And food and a bed for Zelda. It has been a hard journey for her. You will be paid handsomely for your trouble when I return for the horse and collect the princess.”

Talon removed his tasseled night-cap, exposing his shiny head brimmed with thin dark hair. “You know that girl’s been like part of our family since she was a young’in, ma’am. ‘Tain’t no trouble mindin’ her till you git back.”

“I thank you,” Impa replied. “I simply did not want to expect.”

Zelda’s head was resting on the horse’s damp neck. She blinked the dryness from her eyes and stretched, yawning. Seeing Malon she waved dazedly with one outstretched hand. Hey, Mal,” she said through her yawn.

Malon smiled. “Hey, Zelly,” she replied.

Then Zelda realized Link was not with them. “Where’s Link?” she asked. Impa stared at her intently, willing her not to say more.

Malon looked at her friend with confusion, then fear. “He said he was going to make sure you were alright…did he…did you see him?”

Zelda berated herself for almost giving away the ruse. “Yes,” she said, honestly, turning to her nursemaid. “Yes, we saw him…”

Talon sniffed, brushing a finger across his bulbous nose and smoothing out his bushy black mustache. “Go on, now, Mal. Brush up Dezzi—she’s our faster,” he said, shooing his daughter along. Malon glanced at her friend apologetically before she ran toward the stables still wearing her long night-shirt, her ginger braid swinging behind her.

Talon bobbed on the balls of his feet, rocking to his heels. “I, uh, don’t suppose y’all know what’s happ’nin’ up at town? I been hearin’ gossip o’ things right fierce, what about a dark man goin’ ‘round cursin’ folk and such. I jes didn’t wanna scare Mal, see.” Though it was clear he was more than a little frightened himself, Impa did not press him.

“The rumors of a dark man are true, Master Rancher, and the man is dangerous, though it is no use imagining more to fear than what one knows for certain. In brevity I cannot tell you enough to quell your fears nor assure your heart. If you see him, avoid him. If all goes well tonight, for certain we shall all have less to fear.”

Malon returned, leading a grayish-blue mare with white hair. The horse was saddled and ready, gnawing on the bit between her teeth.

“Thank you, child,” said Impa. “Now I will take my leave. If something should happen and you do not hear from me this time tomorrow night, you must flee to the south and take Zelda with you. Asphodel is strong, and can run swiftly at need after he is rested. Take nothing you will not need for a long journey. Otherwise I shall return for the princess tomorrow before the sun reaches its height in the sky.” All of this she said while she transferred some small items from Asphodel’s pack to Dezzi’s, and then she mounted.

Suddenly, Zelda realized what her nursemaid had said and why Impa had not offered to help her into Dezzi’s saddle. “I’m not to come with you?” she said, looking as if her nursemaid had suggested they surrender the castle.

“No, child, it is a threat too great for you. You would be helpless.”

“Helpless!?” Zelda said, incredulous. “Have I not mastered all of the magic you have taught me? Did I not prove myself against…”

Impa cut her off tersely. “I have no time to counsel with you on the matter, Majesty,” she said, pulling Dezzi around to face north. “You are my charge, and where I go I may not be able to protect you. If I do not return, go with the rancher. It is decided. I must away.” Without further argument, Impa urged the blue horse into a quick gallop and was off, heading northward.

“What about ‘you must never separate yourself…’” Zelda cried after her, but Impa paid her no heed and in moments she was far away. “Impa!” Zelda shrieked. She set her jaw as she wrung Asphodel’s reins in her hands, watching her nursemaid ride away without her. Talon shifted his glance between the fuming princess and the diminishing rider, unsure as to what might be appropriate to say. Malon’s eyes showed her concern for Zelda. Asphodel nickered, shifting his hooves in the dirt.

Talon twisted his hat like a dishcloth as he did his best impression of a bartender. “Well, lil’ missy, I’m supposin’ you’d like a bed,” he began, “but firs’ let’s gitcha a little what fer t’eat.”

Zelda cut across him brusquely. “Get me a horse,” she said.

Talon looked like he had been frozen in the middle of recommending the apple pie. His bushy black eyebrows knitted together, looking very much like a second mustache. “But, your Majesty,” he said, unsure of how much deference to show at the moment, “it’s been…”

“Am I the daughter of your queen?” she asked, looking him in the eyes, stern, but not unkind.

“Yes, Majesty,” he said, his resistance straining between propriety and what he might do if it was his daughter.

“Then I need a horse,” she said simply, “and a fast one. Mal, get me Hossel. It’s time you showed me what he can do.”

“And how!” Malon nodded, becoming animated. “He’s even faster now!” And her red braid whipped as she ran to the stables.

* * *

Ganondorf’s cold black eyes sparkled like gluttonous obsidian as he stared into the open gateway to the Golden Realm. The walls of the large hexagonal room were infused with the burning, penetrating light of the gate; a mass of churning energy, spinning and looping in and out of itself. The mass occupied the space where stained-glass should have been, framed by the huge peaked window in the rear wall of the Sanctuary. The window’s sill was higher than a man’s reach, but for three skilled thieves it was an achievable goal. The thieves stood mesmerized.

A twitch of pleasure passed over Ganondorf’s grimace of a face. The Triforce was just beyond that mass of churning light. His objective was nearly achieved. Just beyond that window was the source of all power. He imagined taking the Golden Triangle in his hands, and then…Power, he would wish for; dominion over all of Hyrule. Yet, in his reverie he was not without prudence.

“Asera, you will go first, then Abrum. I will follow,” Ganondorf said, his words pulling his thieves from their trance.

His female thief blinked. “Yes, Lord,” she said compliantly, gripping the handle of the scimitar at her waist a little more tightly. She glanced furtively at her male cohort. “Shall we?” she said, turning toward the gate.

“I follow,” said Abrum. His blond-white brows knitted together with suspicion, his red eyes always on his thief master. The lobes of his pointed ears bore small metal hoops. Like his female counterpart, he was dressed in black but he was also equipped with studded fighting gloves. Ganondorf stood with his boots planted, watching until he was obeyed.

Then, almost inaudible in the crackling of the open gateway, there began a rumbling like a minor earthquake. Ganondorf glanced at the sword lying at his feet, now at an angle to the pedestal that had held it upright only minutes before. The blade began to jump angrily on the stone floor of the sanctuary. Ganondorf marveled. Could the boy have…? But his thought did not mature, for the earthquake arrived in the stairway. Ganondorf turned like a startled cat, sweeping his cape to the side. There he saw what resembled a medium-sized boulder rolling the wrong way, up the stairs and into the Sanctuary. The boulder unfolded and became Gor Darmon.

“Stop!” Gor Darmon growled in his gravelly voice.

Ganondorf and his two thieves reacted simultaneously, throwing bolts of magic from their hands, but none of them struck; Gor Darmon had already bent over again and rolled around the room with the proficiency of a well-practiced racer. He unfolded again on the opposite side, in front of the gate.

Bolts of magic flew through the Sanctuary like electric bats, swerving toward their target, but never fast enough to catch the Goron champion. Gor Darmon bent over again and in moments was rebounding from one wall to another, passing the trio once, twice, three times; each time coming closer to bowling them down like skittles. Finally, Ganondorf pounded the floor with his fist, and a purple flash threw Gor Darmon into the air. As the Goron unfolded mid-flight, a coil of purple electricity leaped out of Abrum’s hand and struck Gor Darmon’s soft underbelly. There was another purple flash and the Goron was thrust against a column, offsetting three of its cylindrical blocks. Darmon fell to the ground, his left leg turning at an unnatural angle and snapping with a resounding crack. Ganondorf, Asera and Abrum advanced on him, his head and torso tilting weakly to one side.

“Too tired to fight back?” Abrum taunted. “Or should we keep playing?”

“You were never like this,” said Gor Darmon, still tilting. “Come back, brother…don’t…”

But Abrum didn’t wait for him to finish. Instead he turned to one side and planted his shoulder into Gor Darmon’s dazed face. The Goron’s head smacked the wall with a crunch and he slumped over, motionless. “I am no brother of yours,” said Abrum.

From the top of the staircase came a strong female voice: “Leave him be!”

Ganondorf turned for the second time, cat-like, his cape sweeping. Leaving the rock-like heap of Gor Darmon to his thieves, he faced his new challenger. There, under the archway of the staircase stood Lutai, poised to fight, brandishing a pair of blade-like arm fins.

“What is this?” Ganondorf sneered. “More who would interrupt fate? Do you pretend to control the Gods because you have not control of your own people?” He circled her slowly, like a stalking lion. She circled with him, keeping her distance, never flinching. “Do you set up yourselves as stewards of the Golden Land because you have conceded the rule of your own lands to the sniveling Hylian king? Do you, who are so weak, who pretend to control the waters of Hyrule, also seek the Power of Gold; that which is greater than you? Do you intend to keep one who is worthy from claiming the Golden Power, as it was meant to be?”

“Do you intend to take possession of that which was never yours?” Lutai rebutted. “The Gods never gave the Triforce to you, Ganondorf Dragmire, King of the Enchanted Thieves. The Golden Power is too great for any of the mortal races to bear. It is a gift to us all, though given to none.”

“Petty words from one too weak to take what the Gods have given!” he challenged.

“We accept the gifts given to us; we do not take for ourselves what was never ours. We give of what we have that all may drink of the water of the Gods.”

“Water cannot be squeezed from stones! Ignorant hypocrite!” Ganondorf bellowed, halting, the veins of his forehead protruding, the muscles of his thick neck pulsing in the churning golden light. “The Gods deal my people thirst, and we suffer; do you give them to drink? They deal my people impotence, and we suffer; do you give them sons to bear? They deal my people death on the wind: heat by day, cold by night! But you know nothing of thirst, or barrenness, or death, do you? Do you?!”

Lutai stopped, her voice becoming quieter. “I know how my sister perished at the hands of a band of female thieves. I know how your thieves sought to have her betray the secrets of the Sapphire’s hiding place, though she would not yield them. I know how you murdered her before me and swore you would return for the rest of my house if I ever spoke of it to anyone. You played on my love, and I have been silent too long! Yes, Ganondorf, King of the Gerudo, I know of death.”

“Not enough,” he said. And the next moment Lutai’s left hand was pulled behind her head and a short blade was pressed to her gilled neck, forcing her to her toes.

From behind Lutai a female voice spoke. “Loosen up, lovely, or you’ll be breathing blood.” Lutai’s fins relaxed and hung loose from her elbows. “Shall I dispatch her, Lord?” the voice said.

“No, Asera,” Ganondorf responded. “But wound her, and let her watch as the other dies first, that she may be properly instructed.”

But then something whizzed past Lutai’s head and Asera’s grip loosened enough for Lutai to struggle free. Lutai seized her chance and twirled in place, catching Asera’s wrist and spinning her around so that they faced each other. Lutai had Asera’s hand clamped against the small of the theif’s back while Asera’s other arm was pinned at her side. The dark woman inhaled through her teeth as Lutai’s blade-like fin pressed against her throat dangerously.

The Captain emerged at the top of the stairs, nocking another arrow to his bow and aiming it at Ganondorf’s heart. Next to the Captain was Aako, arms crossed in defiance, and behind him was Zethra, standing regally on the stairs. The captain drew back his bow, still aimed at the Gerudo King.

Zethra spoke clearly, and with authority. “You are in violation of your oath of allegiance, Ganondorf of the Enchanted Thieves. Stand down and call off your siege.”

Ganondorf laughed his red laugh and sneered. “Or what? What will you do to me; a naïve weakling of a woman? Any of my thieves could kill you before you detected them…”

“None but you will die here except I die before them,” barked the captian.

“Foolish boy,” Ganondorf said, mocking. “Your wishes are so selfless. Perhaps I should grant them to you.” And reaching out with one hand toward the captain, Ganondorf squeezed the air. The captain’s eyes grew wide and his mouth opened, though no air escaped. Colin let his arrow fly, but Ganondorf batted it away like an annoying insect.

“Stop!” Zethra cried. She turned to her guard. “Colin,” she murmured as his eyes watered helplessly, his bow falling from his languid hands. “Colin, no!”

“No!” Lutai repeated. For a moment, her grip loosened. And in that moment, many things happened. Asera bent backward and to the side, rolling out of Lutai’s arms and flashing her short blade across Lutai’s abdomen. Abrum was thrown through the air to the other side of the hexagonal room, slamming into the wall, a recovered Gor Darmon rolling after him. Aako ran at Ganondorf furiously, raking at his legs with his hands, but was easily rebuffed when Ganondorf planted a powerful kick to his face. Aako was lifted from his small feet and thrown against the floor, just next to the stairs. Zethra fell to her knees beside Aako, wet trails on her cheeks. “Gods, save us!” she cried.

It happened quickly, but it was all the captain needed. With Ganondorf distracted by Aako, air rushed into the captain’s lungs. He pulled his shield to his right arm and drew his longsword. The queen looked up from Aako into the captain’s stern face, relieved. “Colin,” she whispered. Then Ganondorf turned and gripped in the air at the queen. Instantly, the queen was silenced. She grasped at her neck, the picture of what the captain had experienced only moments before.

To the captain, the world seemed to stop. Sounds blended around him like a flurry of so many autumn leaves. He did not see, in plain view, the forms of Gor Darmon on one leg exchanging blows with Abrum, nor Lutai and Asera on his other side grappling each other. In his mind there was only his queen, the life being squeezed from her, and the black half-man who was doing it.

“Demon!” the captain cried, and charged the Gerudo King, tears blurring the thief-lord’s face into a mask of blackness against the golden light of the open gateway.

Asera pulled herself from the flurry of combat with Lutai. “My love!” she cried. In that same instant Abrum looked up with shock and alarm. Lutai and Gor Darmon paused to watch a bolt of magic spring from Asera’s fingers and strike the captain’s shield arm. The captain feinted to one side, his shield thrust to the ground. But it was not enough to stop him.

Ganondorf narrowly dodged the captain’s blade and brought his massive elbow down on the captain’s head. Colin’s sword fell at Ganondorf’s feet. The captain crumpled to the floor beside the pedestal that once held the Blade of Evil’s Bane. Reeling from the blow to his head he saw it; the Master Sword, just out of his reach.

“Address your master properly, fool,” Ganondorf glowered, pinning the captain’s sword arm with one soft leather boot. “I am Ganondorf, Lord of Demons.” The Evil King picked up Colin’s longsword. “An impressive looking blade,” he said. “But nothing more.” He bent over the captain, raking the edge of the blade along Colin’s chin. “Would you hear my desire? To take this foul blade…and use it to blot out the light forever.” Ganondorf raised the sword over his head.

Then Colin pulled a short blade from somewhere at his waist and slashed at Ganondorf’s hamstring. The Gerudo king faltered, releasing Colin’s sword arm, and fell to one knee. The eyes of all were on the pair. The fate of the rest now relied on the triumph of either the Captain of the Royal Guard, or the King of the Enchanted Thieves.

Colin seized the moment and reached for the Master Sword; the Blade of Evil’s Bane. He brought it up just in time to parry a high attack. Ganondorf stood slowly, holding Colin’s longsword, favoring his injured leg. Colin matched his opponent, raising himself to his full height, holding the Master Sword in his hand. Then, when they met each other’s gaze, some invisible force pulled them together and it was as if they had no choice but to fall on each other with their swords.

Colin withstood the Evil King’s strength, but he could not hold his position. Ganondorf thrust him backward, causing his boots to inch nearer to the Master Sword’s pedestal. When Colin’s feet were halted by the pedestal, he started to feel his strength waning; Ganondorf was pushing him off balance. Then Ganondorf locked hilts with the Master Sword and thrust the sword away, to the ground. In that moment, Ganondorf acted.

Gripping Colin’s tunic and chain shirt in one massive leathery hand, he hauled the captain into the air. Defiant to the last, a harsh cry rattled from the captain’s lungs as he raised a fist to strike his captor. Then all at once Ganondorf barked a red laugh and the Captain of the Royal Guard burst into nothing. The laugh and harsh cry echoed off the walls like distant specters. Lutai watched as Ganondorf bore his teeth at her in a wicked grin.

Zethra’s could hardly credit what her eyes had witnessed. Changing scenarios flew through her head like winter birds, each less credible than the last, and finally her head swam with them, the captain’s cry still echoing in her ears. He must have been sent somewhere—he would be recovered, and waiting. At that moment, she had rather be mad than accept it; he was gone.

“Colin! No!!” Zethra screamed, and a golden light surrounded her body that shamed the golden gate for brightness. For a brief moment, Zethra was the picture of a Goddess herself; face wrought with righteous indignation. Ganondorf turned, blinking at this new divine body. And then the queen moved as if to topple a pillar. “By the Goddesses, you will not prevail!” she shrieked, tears streaking down her face. Then the light condensed into a column that shot from the queen’s hands and the light struck the blinded Gerudo lord, flattening him against the wall below the golden gate like a child’s doll.

Ganondorf lay still; a crumpled dark form. The whole room was charged with shock.

But then, suddenly, the light in the room changed; not gold, but white. Against this new blinding light the gate to the Golden Land seemed dim and unworthy. Materializing from out of the light were three large spheres, hovering in the air above each of the Gerudo thieves, pulsating and looping like the energy of the gateway. The spheres throbbed in unison, and around them appeared giant animals which filled the room with their ethereal presence. Each Light-Being was an impossible conjoining of two vaguely related creatures. One was an ape, but had the head and tail of a lemur; one was an owl, but had the antennae and wings of an enormous moth. One was a serpent, but had the snout of a crocodile.

Each of the thieves fell under the weight of the white lights above them, convulsing on the floor of the Sanctuary. Lutai staggered backward from the crocodile-serpent that had caught Asera in its coils. Gor Darmon curled up before the great owl-moth that had perched on Abrum, and Zethra looked on in reverent fear as the ape-lemur crushed the King of Evil in its paw. Ganondorf writhed and bellowed like a crazed lunatic.

Zethra watched as a sphere of darkness condensed in the center of the room. In moments she realized it was coming from the King of Thieves and his accomplices. It was being drawn…no, squeezed from them. Slowly, then all at once, the darkness took the shape of a wicked looking helm with one cocked eye and bent horns. Then as quickly as they had come, the Light-Beings were gone, dispersing into nothingness, leaving the golden light of the gate to fill the void of their passing. The shadow-helm fell to the ground with a crunch, breaking into four pieces, and then all was still.

Zethra walked toward the fallen King of Evil. Faster and more frenzied she moved, face toward the crackling golden light of the gate. She stood over him, glowering at his prone black-armored form. No more than a man, she thought. One man and his greed had done all this. Then the Master Sword was in her hand and she would have stabbed him through, deprived him of his cursed head, or opened his belly and spread his entrails. But the blade would not allow it. Despite her attempts, she could not bring it to bear on his prone body. The queen’s arm went limp, the tip of the blade grinding the floor as it shifted sadly. Zethra clenched her fist to her brow and wept, her tears trailing down to her elbow, flashing gold as they fell.

Then, as if it belonged to someone else, her arm brought the blade into its resting place in the pedestal and the gate vanished as quickly as the Light-Beings had, replaced by ordinary, solid stained-glass. All was still, but for Zethra’s choked weeping. The dark pressed in on her, intensified by the sudden extinguishing of the light; her heart sick, her eyes, like her mind, fighting to adjust. Her hand paused on the hilt of the sword and she leaned on it like a cane, lowering herself to her knees.

Lutai’s voice finally stirred the dark stillness. “Queen? Mourn we must, but away from the battlefield, I think. Come, let us away. The knights will bury the traitors…”

“The knights will bury none but their own,” said a man’s voice, harsh and near. Gor Darmon grunted in surprise, and Lutai gasped shortly. Then there was a heavy, muscular hand over Zethra’s mouth and a thick arm coiled around her torso like a snake. She could not speak; all she could do was struggle. She twisted and kicked, pulling and heaving, then something cold and sharp was pressed to her throat. All at once she was revisited by the sight of the captain bursting into nothing and she inhaled sharply through her nose and was still. Tears poured from her helpless, unseeing eyes, and her chest heaved in silent, uneven sobs.

Ganondorf spoke again: “I will leave this place, and you will not stop me.” Another moment and there was the sound of feet; sure steps accompanied by another set, shifting uncertainly on the floor—Ganondorf was dragging Zethra toward the top of the stairway.

Lutai froze, listening. So long as she could hear the moving of feet, she knew the queen was still alive. Frantically wondering in the dark how to help the queen, her stance shifted. The sound of the feet stopped. “Do not follow!” Ganondorf barked. “Or she dies.” Gor Darmon struggled to keep himself still with his damaged leg. There was a peculiar pressure in the air, silence, and then the sound of moving feet assured her that Ganondorf was dragging the queen again. Lutai finally exhaled.

And near the stairs, inches from where Ganondorf stood, holding the queen at the edge of a knife, Aako finally came to. He opened his green eyes to blackness. “Win?” he murmured, sitting up. Everyone seemed to have lost their voices.

Then a small red flame flickered into being, casting aside the darkness. The flame belonged to a lantern held by Rauru, who stood in the center of the room, directly in front of the sword-bearing pedestal. Aako turned and saw Ganondorf beside him with the Queen of Hyrule, a knife to her neck, her eyes frantically shifting from one face to the next. Zethra watched as understanding flickered over Aako’s face. The child glared at the black thief, but did not move. Asera and Abrum’s forms lay still.

Rauru spoke. His voice was calm and steady. “You don’t want to kill her, son. It won’t get you what you want. Just let her go.”

Ganondorf blinked, unmoving. “You call me son? You, a son-less father, and I…I am a father-less son. You see the irony.” Ganondorf’s voice hardened. “I’m leaving this unholy place and you’ll not hinder me or she will die.” Ganondorf pressed the knife more firmly into Zethra’s bare neck. Zethra inhaled through her nose.

Rauru appeared unruffled. “I have sons enough,” he replied. And the flames of two-score lanterns puffed into life, each borne by a monk of the temple. They formed two masses, one on each side of the thief—the closest of them, Tobias, was only a yard away. Their presence having gone unnoticed in the light of one lantern, they were now an imposing sight by the lights of forty-one.

“You’ll not kill her,” Rauru continued, “or you’d have done it already. Why haven’t you flown? Have your wings been clipped?” Aako scowled at the dark man. Gor Darmon concentrated on remaining still. Lutai could only stare at the three broken shards of the wicked horned helm that had been extracted from the thieves only minutes before. Weren’t there four? she thought. But then Ganondorf’s eyes narrowed and he spoke.

“What? Will you sing me to death?” Ganondorf mocked. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Rauru spoke again. “Behind you wait scores of trained soldiers; sons of Hyrule; sons who have also lost their fathers to greed—the same greed that consumes you—the same greed that consumed your father.”

Ganondorf stood motionless, his jaw clenching, his hold on the queen like iron.

“Isn’t that right, Ganondorf?” said the Sage. “You lost your father to obsession. But he didn’t kill himself out of longing for an impossible goal like the fathers of these sons. Your father simply never saw you past his obsession. To him you were never anything more than a usurper—one who would one day take his throne from him. He had always been right there in front of you, yet impossible to reach, and then one day he left, never to return. And you resented him for it; wanted to make him pay. He deserved to be hurt, deserved to suffer as you had. And now his obsession is yours. And you are no better than he.”

A scowl grew on Ganondorf’s face. Tension brooded in the room as Rauru’s words waited for the silence to prove them true. But then Ganondorf spoke.

“You ought not to speak so boldly concerning a subject you know nothing about, infidel. I never knew my father. And I will never rest until I have killed every last one of you. Curse the gods you worship!” he said, and spat on the floor of the Sanctuary. “I grow tired of this,” he said, then pulled his knife across Zethra’s neck and cast her aside like a rag doll. In another moment, he had thrown something to the ground, there was a flash of light, and he was gone. Then two more flashes burst in the dim light. Gor Darmon responded like thunder after the flash. He bent over and rolled down the stairs, a minor earthquake fading behind him. But none heard it.

* * *

The blue mare was swift indeed. From outside the town walls Impa could the see golden light that poured from the tall peaked windows of the Sanctuary and surrounded the temple. The sight was as beautiful a thing as ever she had seen. Were it not for haste and a sense of present danger, she may have wanted to linger. Presently, however, it would not have made a difference as the light suddenly went out, and the unnatural darkness gathered around her as completely as it ever had.

Judging by sound and practiced memory, Impa traversed the dense black, lit only by the dimmed torches of the night-watch. She entered the town by the south gate and began to weave through the streets. They were clear of people, which made the distance pass more quickly as she raced toward the town’s central courtyard. The temple was just to the east of that, and then fate would tell what had been decided.

As she rode she removed some of the small items she had stowed away in Dezzi’s bags and placed them snugly in her girdle. They were dekku seeds, the dried heads of a flytrap-like plant that would flash brightly when struck. Their use was common among thieves of all races, especially among the Sheikah, for whom it had become a signature item.

Minutes later she came to the temple’s outer garden. The high wrought iron gate was closed and locked, Impa knew, which forced her to leave the horse behind. Standing in the saddle as she approached, she leapt from the horse’s back, folding in the air as she cleared the iron fence. Dezzi did not move from where she halted, but stamped the cobbles under her hooves. Impa made no effort to restrain the horse; Malon had trained it well.

Pausing to listen and gain her bearings, Impa faintly heard the clink of mail armor and the brushing of leaves against tempered metal—the Knights of Hyrule were laying in wait just outside the main doors of the temple, no more than thirty feet away. The steps up to the main doors of the temple were unoccupied and one of the doors was half ajar. Nothing else was out of the ordinary.

So as not to expose the knights, she slid as covertly as possible to the nearest place of hiding. From there she crept, out of sight, behind the manicured block of bushes flanking the walkway which led to the temple. Closer to the temple she could see the post of the knight next to the main entrance. He was hiding behind a large cylindrical stone planter within which a thick fern was growing. It provided excellent cover while still allowing the hunter to see his prey through the leaves—a well chosen post.

The knight hiding there spotted her, but contained his alarm when he saw who had joined him. It was Afton. He was one of the knights equipped for stealth, wearing a blue cotton shirt and tan breeches over which was buckled a set of hardened leather armor punched with steel studs. His armor consisted of bracers, greaves, and a small breastplate cut to allow for mobility. Over all of this was cinched his long white tunic bearing the crest of the royal family. He carried his repaired and sharpened rapier in his hand and his Hylian shield on his back. Sheathing his weapon, he gave her the signal for friend using the hand signs the Sheikah had taught none but the Royal Family and the Knights of Hyrule. “Greetings, Impa of the Sheikah,” he signed.

“Well met,” she signed in reply. “Where is your captain, Afton?”

“With the queen, inside,” he responded.

“What are your orders?”

“Wait for the thieves, capture, kill only if necessary.”

Impa understood the significance of this. It would mean war with the Gerudo nation if their king was killed by Hylian forces, but if what Link said was true then not to kill Ganondorf, if he could not be captured, would mean something far worse.

“Positions?” Impa asked the knight, still using hand signs.

“Every exit is watched: main entrance, rear, another on roof, two secret entrances on sides. Archers standing by on surrounding rooftops.”

Impa could spot several archers now that she looked carefully. Each had his bow half drawn, waiting. “Good,” she signed. “It is well prepared. I wait with you.” He assented and drew his rapier again.

It did not take long for something to happen. Less than a minute later, Impa could hear rumbling from inside the temple. Soon both of the front doors flew open and out rolled Gor Darmon at great speed, stopping just short of the gate, hopping on one short leg as he unfolded. The blue mare reared, turned and fled. Dezzi was well trained, thought Impa, but Gorons are imposing enough to cause even the most stalwart soldier to forget they are anything but running away. Once Gor Darmon realized Ganondorf was not on the horse he looked up into the darkness and bellowed: “Come back, King of Cowards, curse you!” His challenge rumbled like a landslide through the still air. When the echo subsided, he lowered himself to the ground, his breath grating harshly as he curled up and sobbed. He looked like a small hiccupping mountain.

Impa signed to the knight that she was going out to speak to the Goron. Coming out of hiding the way she had gone in, she approached the small twitching mountain cautiously.

“Darmon?” she said aloud.

Immediately his head shot up, flinging wetness in all directions. After he cleared his eyes of their excess moisture he could see her clearly.

“Impa? Impa did you see him? Did you see where he went?” He reached for her shoulders, shaking a little harder than was prudent.

Impa remained calm despite being jarred. “When, Darmon? How long?”

“Seconds,” he said, and made a peculiar noise like water engulfing a large stone. Gor Darmon looked at her intently, as if she had the answer to his question hidden somewhere on her person.

“He has not escaped through the main doors, Darmon, and no sign has been given of his escape elsewhere…” her voice trailed. Suddenly his eyes widened; he comprehended what she did. “He is still inside.” She turned to dash into the wide open doors of the temple, but a heavy hand stopped her.

“Impa. The queen,” he said.

Understanding crossed her face and she became livid. “What has he done?!”

Gor Darmon went limp, his great stone hands smacking the cobbles. He sobbed again. “He…she is…wounded,” he finally said.

“Darmon,” she said, grasping his large, stony face in her hands, “Darmon, do not let him leave. Swear it!”

He bowed, smearing the wetness from his eyes again. When he raised his head he was resolute. “If he finds escape, it shall not be through me,” he swore, and she turned and ran toward the temple.

* * *

The queen lay sprawled, motionless. For the second time since evil had invaded the Sanctuary, all was still. Even the lantern-light seemed to dim, reverent. Rauru sank to his knees, his lantern clanking on the marble floor and tipping out of his hands, its light extinguishing. It felt as if all warmth went out with it. A sharp silence spread through the Sanctuary that seemed to Lutai like an entire lake being frozen over all at once.

Aako raised himself to the full of his childish height and stepped lightly over to the fallen queen. He seemed to take no notice of the red gash in her neck, nor the pool of crimson spreading below her golden head, her face and arms now white; so white. He pulled her body straight, smoothing out her gown, folding a pale hand to her chest. He knelt beside her, holding her other hand and stroking it as he hummed a melody, bobbing his head in time. It was merry, then forlorn, but the tune was pure, and innocent. The song searched out each of the room’s other occupants and followed the air into their breath, catching in their throats. The lump of a tune that caught in Lutai’s breath made her wish she had known the song, to sing it, though something in her said she had known it once, in the long-distant past.

When the tune repeated, the monks chanted the strain; reverently, then fervent. Then Aako sang, his boyish soprano flowing over the monk’s deep-throated bass like clear water over smooth stones. Lanterns were raised, flickering flames snuffed out, the faces of the monks bearing them suddenly muted by shadow; like stars fleeing from the dawn the flames vanished, one by one, until only two were left, one on either side of the white queen and her green attendant, his song lingering in the air like smoke.

Impa suddenly burst up the stairs and into the room, her chest heaving. Her eyes caught the sight of Zethra lying in her own blood and she was at her side, shouting something her queen could not hear, raising Zethra’s hand from her chest and kissing it, her tears falling on her queen like new wine.

* * *

The procession from the Sanctuary was grave. They had wrapped Zethra in Rauru’s over-gown, the captain’s sword and shield lying on the queen’s lifeless body. Twelve monks bore the queen on their arms, her form resting lightly on the human bier. Exiting the stairway to the Sanctuary they passed the altar, the Spiritual Stones still spinning serenely, glinting in the ghostly candlelight of the nave. Leading was Rauru, and following was the queen on her bier, then Impa, Lutai, cradling the gash in her abdomen, and Aako, clutching Lutai’s free hand. Behind Aako were the remaining monks, heads bowed, hoods covering their faces for respect. As Aako passed the altar he reached out with one small hand and plucked the emerald from over its hollow. The Door of Time ground grayly as it slid closed behind the last of the monks. Looking through the gem like a monocle, Aako saw something glinting in Din’s portrait, deep in the black of the side-chapel. He lowered the gem from his eye, his tongue protruding from his mouth pointed at Din’s chapel.

The procession marched up the broad staircase, pausing at the open doors. Rauru addressed Gor Darmon, sitting like a stone totem, facing into the temple, his expression fierce.

“Darmon, he is gone. He must be.”

“No. He will not escape me. I will sit here forever.”

“Please, Darmon,” Rauru said, placing a hand on Gor Darmon’s stony shoulder. “We must permit the queen to pass.”

Tears welled in Gor Darmon’s eyes.

“Yes, I see,” said Rauru, not unkindly. “Surely water can be squeezed from stones.” The Goron shifted so the procession could continue, favoring his damaged leg, his chest convulsing as the queen’s body passed.

Then the Knights of Hyrule emerged, one by one, from their places of hiding. Like doves to their perches, they assembled solemnly along the sides of the cobblestone path leading away from the temple, standing at attention with rapiers under their chins. To her right, Impa noticed that Afton had hung back, standing reverently beside the stone planter. He signed to her as she emerged from the temple.

“The Goron will stay with us. We will not rest until the Black Man is found. We will watch, all of us. Waiting.”

Impa nodded, her eyes sore, her cheeks wet. But when she turned the procession had stopped. From the top step of the temple she could see the whole scene; Lutai and Aako now before her, the monks bearing the queen’s body, the Knights of Hyrule at attention on either side, and Rauru in front of them all. But beyond the locked iron gate were two horses; one blue, one brown.

And there, just inside the gate was the girl Zelda, ashen-faced and worn from swift travel. She put one foot forward.

“Who…” she began.

Rauru reached for Zelda’s cheek. “I am sorry child,” he said.

Zelda’s eyes darted from one face to another, searching frantically for the one she could not find. Impa’s eyes again flooded with wetness and she found herself moving toward Zelda, quicker and quicker, until she was between Zelda and her mother’s body, and then the child was in her arms, and Zelda was shouting something her mother could not hear. And the clouds moved and the sky opened, and for the first time that evening the moon shone down from the heavens; a thin silver sickle—a beacon among the stars; and its light caressed Zelda’s small, tired body, now curled up in the cradle of Impa’s toned white arms, shaking with every sob.

Then Rauru opened the iron gate and Impa rose, still cradling the child Zelda.

“Is it safe, Rauru,” asked Impa in a low voice as she passed him. “Did you…?”

“The Ocarina is safe,” he replied. And as the procession left the grounds, three new monks joined the rest, unnoticed.

Chapter VI ~ Farewells

2008-03-13T13:01:00.012-05:00

The procession had wound through the city like a solemn but unerring snake, weaving through district after district toward the castle gate. The few remaining souls who had lingered in the alleyways were rewarded for their curiosity by seeing firsthand the robe-wrapped body of the queen borne on the arms of twelve monks, the shield of the Captain of the Royal Guard resting upon her. The news had been spoken in the alleys, then in the houses, from the windows, from the rooftops. “The Queen is dead!” came the cry. “The Queen is dead, and her Captain! Mourn ye, for evil doth visit your houses this night.” Wilted weeping hung from the candle-lit windows like funerary banners.

The events of that night had not faded one ounce from Zelda’s mind. Nor had the sight of her mother’s form being laid out in a straight-boat the next morning, her face and body wreathed in coniferous branches, the boat being pushed out into Lake Hylia, the unnatural calm of the water, the unnatural brightness of the flame as it caught the branches, the unnatural thickness of the smoke had that robbed Zelda of her last glimpses of her mother. Only when the boat sank into the water did the smoke clear. But it was too late; she could no longer see. All that remained were the crowds of people on the piers, jutting out onto the lake. Zelda did not recognize most of them.

“Who are they?” Zelda had asked her nursemaid.

“Your mother had many subjects, all of whom she regarded as her family,” Impa had told Zelda. “They were like her own children. As queen she was the mother of many.”

“Well, I only ever had one mother,” Zelda had replied, “and now she’s gone.” And ever since, this image was all that Zelda saw: her mother’s body claimed by smoke, fire and water.

* * *

After the ceremony Impa escorted Zelda to the graveyard in Kakariko village where Delphineas Zora had brought the queen’s body to be entombed. “I only wish I could have done the same for my wife, Nayru keep her,” said the Zora king, recalling what Lutai had revealed concerning the circumstances of his wife’s death. “You truly had a remarkable mother, Princess of the Hylia.”

Zelda could not bring herself to smile, but she offered her thanks to the Zora king before he returned to the hidden waterways of Hyrule. Then Zelda was alone with her nursemaid.

For some time Zelda stared at the stone pillar with the names of the members of the Hylian Royal Family—her mother’s name was the most recently carved of these; Zelda marveled at the nearness of it. Then she shuddered at the thought that her name would one day be on this pillar; a testament in stone that she had lived. Yet, the cold, unyielding stone could never personify her…or her mother; it could never tell of the queen’s selflessness, her devotion to the Goddesses, or the sacrifices she made to serve her people. Zelda could not help but think that she was one of those sacrifices…and her face bent in an uneven frown as she choked on her regrets, catching them in her hands as they fell away from her, leaving her hollow.

Zelda was grateful that her father’s name had not joined her mother’s on the cold, blank stone. Impa had explained that the soldiers who protected her father had been reinforced by the Darknaughts once they had finally come to, and they had kept him secure while the soldiers drove the remaining thieves from the town.

Then, as Zelda was lost in thought, she heard a voice she had almost forgotten.

“I heard…” Link stood by, letting Zelda have a moment to assimilate his presence. “I…I’m really sorry.”

From anyone else it would have seemed false, but from Link—who truly understood what it was like to lose the most important figure in your life—it was real. Then, all at once the decisions Zelda had made that led to this end came flooding back to her; it had been she who had sent Link to get the Spiritual Stones, she had given him the Ocarina, she had let Ganondorf into the temple…

“I…I wanted to help…” she mumbled, her mouth straining to form words through the grief-wracking memories. “I just had a dream and I…I didn’t know, I didn’t know…” Her mumbles faded into weary sobs.

Then Link put his hand on Zelda’s shoulder and all at once she fell into his young arms with no more resistance than tissue, and seemingly just as fragile. This reminded Link of something very familiar.

“She reminds me of you, you know…” he said, tentatively. Zelda pulled away from Link’s chest. Judging from her expression, Link realized he would have to explain. He looked at her tear-stained face kindly. “When you were older, you looked just like your mom. When I saw her for the first time I thought she was you…I thought I hadn’t gone back in time…but I had.” Link hoped this offering was enough.

Zelda looked past Link, at the lawn between the gravestones. “…really?” she asked. Link nodded. Then, before Zelda’s face could settle on a smile, it contorted as a new stream of memories filled her mind. Link held her again, squeezing her gently to show her he wouldn’t leave.

Once she regained her composure she pulled away again, speaking between uneven breaths. “Im…Impa woke me up this morning,” she said. Then Link’s face told her it was her turn to explain. “She would always wake me up,” said Zelda, looking at her mother’s name on the stone pillar again. “My father would always tuck me in at night, and my mother would always come in to wake me up in the morning…sometimes I would wake up on my own and just pretend I was asleep." Zelda looked at her hands. “Sometimes she would stay with me so long the Sheiks would have to remind her it was time to attend to her duties.” Zelda was lost in thought for a moment, remembering pleasant memories, and she laughed—a soft, pure laugh that made Link feel as if the world could never have been cloudy.

“She always came to me in the morning,” Zelda repeated. And in that moment, though she did not know it, Zelda had decided that her children would always know her as the morning; full of new light and new life; and full of joy—the joy of knowing that no matter how pressing the affairs of the people a mother’s place was with her daughter. And Zelda resolved to love the Hylia as her mother had—with the love of a mother for her child.

* * *

That day as evening neared, Zelda and Link rode away from Kakariko, across the fields of Hyrule; Link on Epona and Zelda on a new foal gifted to her by Malon. Impa rode some way behind them, aloof, but observant.

“I have to go,” said Link.

“What?” said Princess Zelda, confused. “But we just started.”

“No, I mean I have to go. I need to…find someone.”

Zelda frowned. Of all the people that had offered her sympathy in the past days, Link was the only one Zelda really wanted to talk to. Not even Malon could understand her. Link knew exactly what had happened to her mother, and she felt he would be the only one she might ever be able to rely on. And now he was leaving?

“What for?” Zelda asked, disbelieving.

Link was silent for a moment. “Do…do you remember when I first met you? You knew who I was because I had a fairy. Well…now I can’t find her.”

“Link, she probably just went back to the forest to be with the Koroki…”

“No,” he said abruptly. Then his expression softened. “A Koroki’s fairy is like his soul. She was my fairy. I…I have to find her…”

“Link, you’re not…”

“I know!” he blurted, kicking Epona forward. Zelda watched Link as he slowed down a little ways ahead and then stopped, his head bowing.

Little pools gathered in Zelda’s eyes. She looked away and then drew her hand across her face. Then she urged her foal ahead to where Link was. She noticed that he rubbed his eyes before she pulled her horse to a halt next to him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know this is important to you." Zelda thought a moment. “Where will you go?”

“I don’t know…” he said, staring off over Hyrule field. “Probably to parts of the forest I’ve never been. I don’t know where she’ll be.”

“How long will you be gone?” she asked quietly.

“Not long, I hope…” Half his mouth smiled. The other half didn’t know whether it could.

Zelda inhaled slowly and then let it out all at once. “Then I have something for you,” she said.

“Really?” he said, taken aback. “What?”

“This,” she said, pulling a small blue ocarina from her saddle bags.

“Is…is this…?” he asked, taking the instrument gingerly from her.

“Yes.”

“But how…?”

“Rauru recovered it from your other self after he was sealed in the Sacred Realm,” Zelda said. “It was important that it not be lost.” Zelda sounded like she was quoting Impa.

Then a thought occurred to Link. “What do you think will happen to him…the other me, I mean?”

Zelda shrugged. “Not even Impa and Rauru can guess. Maybe he’ll wake up in seven years, maybe he’ll sleep forever…”

Link stared through the grass. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to meet myself…” he said. “I wonder what I’d be like…”

“Well, if the other you is anything like this one…” she began, blushing. Then she guided her horse nearer to Epona. Leaning over she kissed Link’s cheek. Link’s face turned hot and he couldn’t move.

“Um…” he said, finally recovering. “I have to go, now…”

“You’re leaving already?” she said dejectedly.

Link nodded slowly. “I’m all packed up at the ranch.”

Zelda looked at him as if it was the last time she’d ever see him, taking in the sight of his hair as it stuck out of his green cap, his shoulders as they bore up his Hero’s Shield, his oversized green tunic, cinched at the waist. “Just be careful,” she said. “And come back. Even though it was only a short time…I feel like I’ve known you for…Well, I won’t forget you, anyway.”

“I’ll come back. Don’t worry,” Link said.

“Yes,” she said, smiling half-heartedly, nodding. “Of course you will…”

Half of Link’s mouth smiled again. “I’ll see you, then.” And he turned Epona back toward Lon Lon Ranch.

“If something should happen to you, Link, just remember the Goddess of Time. She’s protecting you!”

Link turned to Zelda, smiling, framed by the glowing orb as it set behind the low eastern mountains. And as he rode away toward Lon Lon Ranch, Zelda could hear the breathy alto notes of the Ocarina floating across the fields of Hyrule.

~fin~

To read the third episode of the Shadows of the Past, please visit heroofgeeks2.blogspot.com!

Appendix

2008-03-13T12:17:00.010-05:00

Timeline of Characters and Events:
in chronological order, by appearance (MC / OoT / FS(A) / TP or WW / ALttP)

What follows is the closest approximation of the above games in temporal relation to one another, and where each of the applicable characters falls on the resulting timeline. Also included are extremely brief summaries of the games for the sake of calling attention to the significant events.

Characters are listed next to the year of their birth. Events are in italics. Characters and Events appear in italics if they relate the any of the games above. Any other events or characters are ultimately a product of my imagination and based on clues in the games—praise or punish me as you will for conjuring them; they are a part of my version of the story with the intention of making the tale richer and deeper.

Year
0 The Creation of Hyrule

—

1000 First Minish Portal opens

1000 Great Dekku Tree (and forest spirits*)

1000 Jabun, the Great Fish

1002 Volvagia

1008 Biggoron

1082 Zelda, Queen of Hyrule

1083 Gustaf, King of Hyrule

—

1200 Minish Portal opens; Piccori Blade given to Gustaf of Hyrule; Light Force given to Zaria of Hyrule (begins Royal Family); monsters defeated by Gustaf, sealed in chest by Zaria with Light Force; Piccori Blade set into chest to prevent monsters from escaping

1201 Ezlo

1210 Medigoron

1240 Master Smith

1243 Ganondorf Dragmire I

1249 Vaati

—

1253 Potho

1254 Nolan, King of Hyrule

1263 Zaida Hyrule

1255 Daphnes I, son of Smith

—

1286 Daphnes II, son of Daphnes I

1289 Zelda Hyrule II

1290 Link I, son of Daphnes

—

1300 Minish Portal opens; Vaati steals his master Ezlo’s wishing hat, turns Ezlo into a bird-headed cap, escapes into Hyrule; Vaati wins sword-fighting tournament, removes Piccori Blade from chest in search of Light Force; monsters are released; Vaati breaks Piccori Blade, turns Zelda II to Stone; Link has Piccori Blade reforged by Piccori people, infuses it with four elements (becomes Four Sword), defeats Vaati, frees Zelda from stone; Ezlo returns to Piccori form; Zelda uses wishing hat to return the kingdom to normal; wishing hat disintegrates; Ezlo goes back through Minish Portal

1300 *Aako

1301 Mudora

1307 Zaria Hyrule

1309 Nolan, son of Daphnes II

1309 Portal to the Golden Land opens in Hyrule Castle Town

1311 Militia prevents deluded Hylian citizens from entering into the Golden Realm, War of the Golden Land begins, defeated Hylian dissenters camp without the city

1312 Sheikah scouts enter Golden Land; Hylian king becomes angry at Sheikah people; Sheikah Master proposes conjoined effort to discover secrets of Triforce but Hylian king refuses; Hylian king plans to conceal gate to the Golden Land—building of Temple of Time begun; Hylian dissenters march into the desert, return reinforced by Gerudo warriors; Ganondof Dragmire I demands entrance to the gate, Hylian king refuses; Hylian Knights and soldiers face their own countrymen and Gerudo warriors in battle; Ganondorf attempts to capture Hylian king by stealth, is caught and forced to agree to a truce; dissenters build a tomb behind Kakariko for their fallen brothers as punishment for their betrayal; Sheikah help Hylians finish Temple

1314 Gustaf, son of Link I

1314 Itzah

1317 Temple of Time completed

—

1318 Gor Darmon

1319 Lutai

1320 Rannon, son of Link I

1322 Rauru/Kaepora Gaebora

1332 Zanna Hyrule

1333 Nathan, son of Gustaf

1334 Hansen, son of Nolan

1336 Vaati returns, terrorizes young girls of Hyrule looking for Zelda (or rather Zelda’s daughter Zanna) and remaining Light Force; Gustaf, Son of Link I appears bearing Four Sword, defeats Vaati; Zanna helps Gustaf bind Vaati within the Four Sword; Four Sword Shrine built to protect the Four Sword; Gustaf returns to forest

1339 Nabooru

1345 Ganondorf Dragmire II

1347 Asera

—

1350 *Saria

1350 Zanna, queen of Hyrule has a prophetic dream concerning the King of Evil and the Hero of Time; Sages convene a council, Master Sword forged, enchanted and placed in the Temple of Time Sanctuary, portal to the Golden Land closed

1351 Rubeus Nohansen

1352 Impa

1352 Hansen, son of Rannon

1353 Meral Nohansen

1353 Saphael Nohansen

1354 Zethra Hyrule

1354 Colin, son of Nathan

1355 Daphnes Nohansen

1355 Talon

1356 Ameth Nohansen

1356 Karin

1356 Abrum

1360 Afton

—

1374 Link II, son of Colin

1374 Asera seduces Abrum and convinces him to turn against Mudora; Itzah murders Mudora and is captured and imprisoned; Abrum steals Book of Mudora and delivers it to Ganondorf, Ganondorf attempts to enter Temple of Time but is thwarted by locked Door of Time; Queen Zethra dreams of Link II being taken into the forest by his mother and evil forces attacking the Arbiter’s Grounds; Spiritual Stones entrusted to respective races; Itzah tried at the Arbiter’s Grounds and is executed; Hyrule is united under the Hylian Royal Family

1374 Zelda Hyrule III

1374 Malon

—

1384 Ganondorf II searches for Spiritual Stones, curses those protecting them; Zelda III dreams of dark clouds and a light coming out of the forest; young Link II meets Zelda; Ganondorf swears false fealty to the Hylian king in order to get the Ocarina from Zelda; Zelda sends Link to get the Spiritual Stones; other young Link returns from the future to warn Zelda about Ganondorf entering the Golden Land, goes looking for Navi and ends up in Termina (events of MM); young Link retrieves the three Spiritual Stones; Zelda and Impa escape from Ganondorf, entrust the Ocarina to young Link; young Link opens the Door of Time, draws the Master Sword, opens the Gate to the Golden Land; young Link is sealed away in the Sacred Realm

Time split: (1~TP timeline) Ganondorf, Asera and Abrum attempt to enter Golden Land but are stopped by the remaining Sages and the Captain of the Royal Guard; Ganondorf kills Colin; Light Spirits come and seal away evil magic (becomes Fused Shadow); Ganondorf kills Zethra; Ganondorf, Asera and Abrum escape; Zelda becomes queen-in-training; older Link II returns from Termina and tells Sages of his adventures; Impa appointed as Sage of Shadow; Fused Shadows entrusted to races of Hyrule; Link begins training to be Captain of the Royal Guard

(2~WW timeline) Ganondorf enters the Golden Land, kills his followers and claims Triforce; Triforce splits into three; Ganon returns with Power of Gold and attacks Hyrule Castle with armies of monsters (previously persons lost in the Golden Land); Zelda and Impa flee to Kakariko where Zelda goes into hiding as a Sheik; Ganon sets up his own kingdom and begins searching for the other Triforce bearers

1384 (1) Ganondorf defects as Lord of the Gerudo and he and his band of thieves flee into the Burning Desert; Nabooru becomes Gerudo tribe matriarch and is invited to represent her people as Sage of Spirit; Ganondorf retrieves the Trident of Power from the Desert Pyramid; a bounty is placed on the heads of Ganondorf, Asera and Abrum; Link utilizes the Song of Healing he learned in Termina to set Mudora’s spirit at rest—Masks of Mudora are created and Sages take up secret identities; one by one the members of Ganon’s band are captured, tried and banished to the Twilight Realm; Asera and Abrum are last to be banished and are received in the Twilight Realm as heroes, begin Royal Family of the Twili

1385 (1) Ganondorf Dragmire weakens seal on Vaati using Trident of Power; Zelda Hyrule III senses a weakening in the seal and investigates with Link II and the six maidens set to keep watch over the Shrine; Ganondorf uses Dark Mirror to reflect Link, creates Shadow Link; Shadow Link captures Zelda and six maidens; Link draws Four Sword, releases Vaati, fights off Shadow Link; Ganondorf uses Dark Mirror to trap four Hylian Knights in inverted Royal Stones; Link frees knights and maidens, defeats Vaati; Link and Zelda defeat Ganon; Vaati sealed in Four Sword which is again enshrined; Ganondorf is tried by the Sages and executed; Ganon is revived by Din, slays Sage of Water; Sages hastily banish Ganondorf to Twilight Realm

1391 (2) Adult Link II is released from Sacred Realm, awakens five Sages: Saria, Daruni, Ruto, Nabooru, and Impa and joins with them to defeat Ganon; adult Zelda III sends Link back seven years to relive his childhood

1397 Afton, son of Link II

1400 Minish portal opens, (1) instead of the Minish the Goddesses send the Ooca to commune with the Hylians, Ooca gift special owl statues and the Dominion Rod to the Hylians as a means of communicating with the heavens in time of need, Ooca help Hylians build the sky canon to permit messengers from the Hylians to visit the skies

1401 (2) Ganon escapes his imprisonment in the Golden Land; no hero comes to save the people; people ask the goddesses for help; Rauru’s spirit is sent back in time by the Goddesses to be reborn as an owl, becomes Kaepora Gaebora; Hyrule is flooded

—

1422 Rannon, son of Afton

1437 Bo

1443 Nathan, son of Rannon

1457 Rusl

1459 Uli

1464 Zelda IV

1467 (1) Link III, son of Nathan

1468 Ilia

1477 Colin, son of Rusl

1477 (1) Link III enters Temple of Time from seven years in the future and defeats Nathan in the Inner Sanctum of the Temple of Time, retrieves the Dominion Rod

1484 (1) Ganon (Dragmire II) discovers Zant and grants him powers; Zant usurps Twili throne, curses and banishes Midna, opens gates to Hyrule from Twilight Realm, invades and breaks Mirror of Twilight; Zant’s forces rob Light Beings of their power; Link III is caught in Twilit Hyrule, becomes Sacred Wolf; Midna releases Link from prison, uses him to find pieces of Fused Shadow; Zant banishes Midna to the Light Realm and curses Link to remain in wolf form; Zelda heals Midna with the Light Force; Ganon captures Zelda’s body; Link draws the Master Sword and reverts to normal; Link and Midna find and reunite pieces of Mirror of Twilight; Link goes back seven years in the past and defeats Nathan in the Inner Sanctum of the Temple of Time; Link and Midna defeat Zant, free Zelda’s body and return the Light Force to Zelda; Zelda and Link defeat Ganon; Midna returns to Twilight Realm and shatters Mirror of Twilight

1485 Midnara

1487 Rusl, son of Link III

1490 Ziana Hyrule

—

1500 Minish portal opens, (1) Ganon’s spirit escapes from captivity in the Dark World and possesses Agahnim

1512 Zelda Hyrule V

1513 Link IV, son of Colin

Liberties

I realize that some fans may not agree with me concerning the placement of some games, the creation of some characters, or the treatment of some races. While I believe a literary work should be able to speak for itself, I offer here an explanation of why I treated the story the way I did—at the very least to show that I was not inconsiderate of larger issues.

In general I regard The Legend of Zelda as just that; a legend. As such, each game is like a retelling of different parts of the story that may be quite literal, but also quite “made up.” For instance, some may focus on the constantly shifting appearance of Link’s Hero Shield. This item is supposed to have been passed down from generation to generation, yet it looks slightly different in all of the games. For my part, I have attempted to smooth out such inconsistencies as much as possible without removing the soul from the Legend. I feel that doing so will not damage other’s representations of the story, least of all Nintendo’s. Please disagree with me; but realize that mine is just another telling of the Legend.

Kokiri—>Koroki

I felt that the connection between the Koroks and the Kokiri in Wind Waker was explicit enough that they could be considered the same race, the former resulting from the latter after the Cataclysmic Flood. Just as the Wind Waker showed a slight change in the name of Lord Jabu-Jabu to Jabun, I felt it was not remiss to make the Kokiri/Korok name more uniform. Thus, really only one letter was changed and the letters were slightly misplaced. The transition between Koroki and Koroks (both of which would be considered the plural, singular Korok) would be due to the natural shift in the language post-flood.

Gerudo: Long Life Span

It always seemed strange to me that the Gerudo would have one male born to their society every hundred years, and yet they expect to be able to have children at that age. It was difficult for me to claim that they were just unnaturally potent, so I sought another explanation. It came when I realized that Koume and Kotake both mention their ages after they are defeated by Link in Ocarina of Time. The number (while disputed between them) rested somewhere around four hundred. If this were true (as I am assuming it is), and a Gerudo can live to be four hundred (albeit quite venerable) then it becomes a matter of simple math to see that a Gerudo who is having children at 100 years is really only 25 by our standards. For good measure I also decided that the Gerudo aged normally for the first 25 years of their lives (i.e. grew up as fast as any Hylian) but then stayed “young” longer, stretching the aging rate across the subsequent 375 years.

Orda, Goddess of Time

I understand that this one may be particularly difficult to accept by fans, but I feel it is entirely justified if one pays close attention to details. In Ocarina of Time, there is an entire temple dedicated to Time. While it seems reasonable to say that the Golden Goddesses are worshipped there as well (hence the Triforce Symbol over the Door of Time), it is not out of line to conceive of another Goddess that is aligned with time, as none of the other Goddesses seem to be. Further, in Majora’s Mask, Zelda sends Link off on his quest to find Navi by saying “The Goddess of Time is protecting you. If you play the Song of Time she will aid you…” From these evidences it can be claimed that a Goddess of Time actually exists.

Next we notice that in Twilight Princess there are four Light Spirits, three of which closely resemble the names of the Golden Goddesses; Eldin, Lanayru, and Faron. Some will contend that Ordon is the continuation of Farore’s name, but I find this to be a bit of a stretch for two reasons. One, why does Farore get two Light Spirits if the others only get one? And two, why isn’t Ordon present when the Light Spirits suppress the power of the Fused Shadows in Link’s vision? My explanation lies thus; Ordon represents the Goddess of Time spoken of by Zelda and implied by the presence of the Temple of Time. The name of this Goddess would follow a similar pattern as the other Goddesses in relation to their Light Spirits; i.e. “Orda” (or some such) from Ordon. Add to this the significance of the related Latin term ordo, meaning series, as in a series of events, or a sequence of time. It is also related to the Italic verb “to arrange,” as in “to arrange or reorder time.”

All of this considered I felt it was far more poetic to suggest that the Goddess of Time simply chose to be present at the beginnings and endings of significant events; i.e. the beginning and ending of Link’s quest in Twilight Princess, as well as Zelda’s aforementioned blessing on Link as he left to find Navi.

As a side note, I will also volunteer that Farore’s name was subsequently truncated to Faroe to follow the pattern of the Light Spirit’s names.

Four Swords Adventure between Majora’s Mask and Twilight Princess

The intricacies of the games are sometimes difficult to reconcile with one another, and while it is important to take as many things into account as possible when doing so, the games must ultimately be viewed as what they are; games. As such, it behooves the conscientious fan to decide for him- or herself what details should be maintained and which can fluctuate to allow enough room to maneuver when writing a story adaptation. The following explanation should be viewed in this light.

Three evidences stand out to me as indicative of the placement of Four Swords Adventure in relation to the other games. First, that the Knights of Hyrule still exist; second, that the Gerudo as a culture still exist; and third, that the major characters answer to the descriptions of their counterparts in Majora’s Mask and Ocarina of Time.

First, the Knights of Hyrule are an intrinsic part of Four Swords Adventure. Four brother knights serve to protect the Royal Gems that open the way to the Tower of Winds, and there are numerous scenes where hordes of soldiers flock in (under the direction of knightly-looking figures) to make trouble for our four heroes. We know from the words of Sahasrahla in A Link to the Past that “three or four generations ago, an order of knights protected the royalty of the Hylia…most of them were destroyed in the great war against evil that took place when the seven wise men created their seal” (in the GBA version it says Sages instead of Wise Men). If we take Twilight Princess as happening a hundred years or so after Ocarina of Time, and we assume that A Link to the Past happens after Twilight Princess (as the Master Sword “sleeps forever” at the end of ALttP), then that would put A Link to the Past at around “three or four generations” after Ocarina of Time (assuming that a generation is roughly 20-30 years). To place Four Swords Adventure any earlier would put it a little too far back to be considered “three or four generations,” and any later would put the other evidences in danger of not fitting.

Second, the Gerudo as a culture still exist in Four Swords Adventure. They are certainly not mentioned in Twilight Princess as a race (only as the name of the area ~ Gerudo Desert), which means the Gerudo had at the very least become wiped out or secluded so that none really interacted with them anymore. What is more likely is that Ganon, their king (and their only male), either left them or was detained from them before he could produce an heir. This fits with the backstory of Twilight Princess, as he was captured and eventually banished to the Twilight Realm. The fact that in Four Swords Adventure the Gerudo call Ganon a “man who broke their laws” suggests that at least before he obtained the Trident he was still humanoid (as opposed to beastly), and it can be surmised that the Trident of Power caused his appearance to change. This would explain why he appears to be humanoid in the Twilight Princess flashback, as the Trident was presumably taken from him, causing him to revert to his normal appearance. Once Ganon was banished, the Gerudo women were forced to interbreed with other races for their people to continue. This might explain the rise of the “human” race in Twilight Princess where before there was really no mention of any race but Hylian, Sheikah and Gerudo. Again, to place Four Swords Adventure any earlier would endanger the other evidences, and any later would put it after Ganon was killed in Twilight Princess.

Third, the characters in Four Swords Adventure answer to the descriptions of the characters in Ocarina of Time. Ganon starts the game as a humanoid (as mentioned above), Kaepora Gaebora is still present and giving advice, Zelda and Link are still apparently young (if not the same age), Malon and Talon still have a ranch with an abundance of horses, and Tingle has somehow found his way into Hyrule. The likelihood of these characters all being part of some other time with matching names and personas is slim to nil; at least if it were so, the coincidence would be incredible. What is more likely is that after Majora’s Mask, Ganon still threatened (after having been thwarted in his attempt to enter the Golden Land due to Link’s warning cry), and sought more power (i.e. the Trident of Power) and stronger allies than what he had at his disposal in Ocarina of Time. This would give him an excuse to go looking for a way to release Vaati (and throw in some Shadow Links for good measure). It also fits that Link would be willing to challenge Shadow Link with the Four Sword rather than the Master Sword, as Link knew that the Master Sword would only lock himself away in the Sacred Realm for seven years. Again, any earlier and Link would still think he was a Kokiri; any later and Malon would be long since grown up and another Malon with her father (who also happens to be named Talon) would have to own the ranch.

Some have said that the concept art for the games proves the connection of Four Swords Adventure to Wind Waker, but this is most likely not the case as it is accepted by many fans that Wind Waker happened in another timeline. Yet others say the bundle of Four Swords with A Link to the Past (for the GBA) along with the similarity of graphics proves a connection between these games. To this I suggest that A Link to the Past was just that; a link to the history of Hyrule—a link to the times when Ganon first obtained the Trident of Power, a link to the days of the Knights of Hyrule, a link to the Pendants of Courage, Wisdom and Power (which could easily be the Spiritual Stones of the Temple of Time). It also may interest some fans to ponder that completing Four Swords unlocks a secret dungeon in the GBA A Link to the Past, which could be seen as a nod to the idea inherent in Ocarina of Time; that of changing the future by changing the past. A link to the past, indeed.

Updates

2008-03-13T11:55:00.004-05:00

Updates have been made to the following Episodes and Chapters:

—03/15/08

General standardizing of phrases "Din/Nayru/Faroe keep him," correction of minor formatting and grammatical errors

Episode I: Prologue—Queen Zanna's dream revised

E I: C I—description of Lutai reworded

E I: C II—chanting added to Temple of Time scene

E II: P—Sealing Ganon away revisited

E II: C V—Zethra's role in trap sequence revisited, Lutai notices missing Fused Shadow piece

E II: C VI—graveyard scene added