

The following is a work of fan-fiction. Though it goes without saying, "The Legend of Zelda" video game franchise as well as its characters are owned by Nintendo. This work is not for sale. The author reserves all applicable rights and will not stand for any attempts at monetary gain via this work. The following would not be possible without the creativity and vision of the well-known individuals responsible for the source material. Please continue to support the official releases this work merely attempts to pay homage to. Thank you, and enjoy.

This story follows the "child timeline" of the games. It is not meant to be canon content.

I say again. It is NOT meant to be canon content.

Still, without an intimate knowledge of Ocarina of Time, Majora's Mask, and Twilight Princess in particular, some parts of the plot may not make sense. Obviously you should expect spoilers if you've yet to play these games.

## The Legend of Zelda:

## Forgotten Goddess

### By: N Felts

Copyright N Felts 2012

Published at Smashwords

## Prologue

The lingering sun of late afternoon cooks the flat stone walkways of Hyrule Castle Town. A visible wave of heat waves lazily, streaming up and out of the worn grooves of a thousand horse-drawn carriages. The town itself appears critically ill. Symptoms of a deteriorating civilization are everywhere. Overgrown grass consumes vacant alleyways. Fallen leaves crowd the south side of every building, the consistent breeze from Lake Hylia ending here after its long journey north across Hyrule Field. The lively music and bustling crowds are a distant memory. Now the shop keepers rest lazily in their stalls, praying tomorrow brings more sales. Brings any sales at all. The days of townspeople fighting over the latest trend, the rupees flowing like Zora's River, are long gone. Children used to fill their pockets with sweets from spare change accidentally dropped into pots or thrown into the fountain at the heart of the market, but now they scamper through shadows, stealing when they've grown hungry enough. The town has known neither order nor wealth for as long as most can remember. The single remaining haven of hope is the church on the east side of town. Stained glass shimmering above the massive, wooden double doors depicts mighty Hylia with her goddess sword in hand. Inside the pews are rarely empty. Even at this odd hour, several of the townspeople remain seated, their hands clasped in hope of their savior delivering them from this depression. There is no dark force to be slain this time around. No reemergence of evil to be suppressed. A blade, no matter how divine, cannot pull crops from their parched seeds, nor rain from the cloudless sky. The people give offering, and they pray, but for months their prayers have gone unanswered.

Resting in a dark corner behind the organ, a young boy named Rift spins a small, wooden box between his thumb and index finger. Watching the shanty piece of craftsmanship slowly turn in his grasp, his mind remains blank, simply waiting for yet another day to pass. His emotionless face is shrouded beneath an old, damaged cowl. Hanging from his shoulders is a black cloak donning the royal crest on both the front and back in faded gold stitching. Resting lightly on his chest and back, it ends in a short, triangular point in his lap. Given to him by the priest, the cloak is really only worn to conceal the gaping holes and deteriorating cloth in his cheap outfit of faded cotton. Taken in as a toddler, Rift remembers little of his parents. The priest has told the story many times, casualties of the plague of darkness brought about by the dark lord Ganondorf years ago. Now his time is spent waiting. Not waiting for anything in particular, just endlessly waiting for the night to fall, and the dawn to break. A general uneasiness sounds from the pews as a group of children enter the building.

"Rift, you in here?" The leader of the gang calls out, glancing around the massive room. Making no effort to conceal or reveal him, the tired old priest simply stares at the troublemakers dumbly. The boy's words echo in the profoundly silent room, disturbing the peaceful ambiance.

"Don't cause trouble," a gruff voice sounds from beside the doors. One of the few town guards have been posted at the church to keep the peace. Scowling lazily from beneath his traditional helm, he briefly stamps his spear on the wooden floor before cocking his head toward the door. "Go on," he commands, not especially eager to incite a confrontation.

"We're gonna find you!" A young girl in the group calls as they collectively march out of the structure with an air of superiority. Hobbling over to Rift's hiding place, the priest simply isn't spirited enough to protect the boy any longer. Years of fear and hiding have made the church a target of vandalism, the children practically running the town with no one particularly willing to discipline them.

"Rift," the chubby old man sighs, palming the dusty organ for balance. "You know you're like a son to me, but this can't go on any longer. I won't always be here to protect you. Please," he continues, coughing briefly. "You've got to stand up for yourself. Look to the sky, and she will protect you." Watching the old man with sad eyes, Rift climbs to his feet and pockets his treasured box. The wooden boards beneath the decorative rug creak with every step as he slowly exits the church. Peeking through the single opened door, a rapid series of anxious breaths are halted when the sentry breaks the silence.

"They headed north toward the castle," the guard points out, caring little for the boy's fate, but offering the information all the same.

"Thanks," Rift smirks, aiming to sound genuine, but coming off as abrasively sarcastic. Without another word he quickly trots through the lifeless, stone streets toward the massive drawbridge at the southern gate. He has decided he will spend the brief portion of the day remaining outside the confines of town. In the distance, the gang of children passes from alley to alley near the twisting path leading up to the castle. The mighty, stone citadel dwarfs even the large town at its base, visible from nearly every corner of the kingdom, it stands a testament to Hylian ingenuity. Once a symbol of hope and unity, its many spires seem to hang their heads in shame at the current state of the kingdom.

Pacing near the balcony of his room, King Harkinian has never looked less healthy. A thick, white beard hangs heavily from his wrinkled face. Once the visage of a hardened warrior, time has done what it does to men of any status. The darkest of days has come and gone. The king of thieves made attempt on his very throne, but just as the prophecy foretold, the hero of time thwarted his treacherous schemes. He had seen the tinge of deceit in the Gerudo's eyes so long ago, but never expected such an uprising in his own kingdom. Between the civil war and Ganondorf's treachery, Hyrule has enjoyed very little peace during his time on the throne. Now, the distant land of Arcadia would dare move to threaten Gamelon, assuming Hyrule in a state of weakness. Duke Onkled received the might of Hyrule's army without question, but the cost has proven far greater than assumed. The time of darkness was averted, but the drought continues. The able bodied men march to war, and now the land is trapped in a veil of decay. The people of Castle Town remain disparaged, and the further one travels from the castle gate, the more uneasy the inhabitants of the kingdom become. A period of prosperity is long overdue to them, but with the hand the king has been dealt, it is simply not in the cards. His lovely princess has shied away from a life of politics, and he has never needed her beauty and natural charm more than now. The people need a symbol of hope more than ever, and his tired old face is far from reassuring these days. The light continues to fade, the beams piercing through the tall windows lining the hallways growing longer by the minute. Another thick bead of sweat crawls from beneath his crown as his perpetual angst refuses to relent.

A raven soars past the balcony, continuing over the church's steeple, and into the open air of Hyrule Field. No matter how unproductive and desolate it becomes, the landscape remains a gargantuan display of beauty. Gradual hills stretch out as far as the eye can see as the setting sun dances on the golden grass. Resting listlessly in the only place he can feel at ease, Rift watches the rolling puffs of dust twinkle in the last of the days light. Resting against a particular rock face near the river pouring down from Zora's Domain to the north, he listens to the subtle music, only discernible when the wind is just right. The reeds on the small plateau overhead seem to hum an odd melody while the cattails beside the bridge knock on the dry wood rhythmically. Reaching into his pocket, he produces his wooden cube. A metallic protrusion on the side is twisted, the soft clang of thin metal sounding between turns. Finally letting his palm rest on the dry grass next to his thigh, the box plays his favorite song, and memories of his mother invade his thoughts. The only thing he can recall clearly is darkness. A blanket of shadow enveloping everything around him. However, the feeling of a profound warmth against his cheek kept the fear at bay. The sensation of impossible comfort only offered by a mother's embrace. The feeling he lost so very long ago. The current times promote selfishness and survival of the fittest. Lacking these traits is certain to lead him to an early grave.

"Found him!" A girl yells from above. Shaken from his trance, Rift scrambles to his feet to find familiar faces arriving from multiple directions. Failing to hang on to his spikey black hair, his hood collapses onto his back. The leader arrives after the rest of the group has congregated on the ledge, parting them to look down upon his prey. An athletic boy named Rho, always carrying the wooden sword his father gave him before leaving to join the defense of Gamelon. An aggressive child destined for an authoritative position, however small the extent of his reign may be. The other children obey him without question, knowing his potential violence is much more than a mere threat.

"I told you not to hide from us," Rho shrugs, his stoic face especially intimidating in the fading light. The only child with a respectable ensemble, his baggy, brown overalls end in a pair of boots no one could afford these days. His surprisingly clean, white shirt has only one long sleeve, the other removed to imitate the elite soldiers his father had joined. "You think you can stay in our town without paying up?"

"We're not in," the girl on his right starts, clamping her hands over her mouth as Rho shifts his glance to her. A bit of a know-it-all for Rho's taste, Ona has a difficult time keeping her mouth shut. A year or two younger than Rift, she can be even more aggressive than Rho at times, knowing her fearless leader will back up any threat she can conjure. Waiting hopelessly, Rift grips his music box tightly behind his back, afraid sliding it back into his pocket would be noticed.

"I don't want to see your face around here anymore," Rho continues, hopping off the small plateau and forcibly prodding Rift in the chest with his sword. Remaining silent, Rift grimaces painfully, but continues to carefully conceal his treasure. Stumbling away, he is denied a chance to run as the rest of the group quickly encircles him. Looking back to Rho, he sees the jig is up. "What's that?" He demands, prodding Rift with the sword once again. Oblivious to his approach, Rift is taken by surprise when one of the boys sneaks up behind him and snatches the music box away. Dahn, a human from Ordon Village, is the original member of Rho's posse. Always eager to pick a fight, he couldn't have been happier to help Rho take over.

"Got it!" He shouts excitedly, turning it over in his hands. "It's some kind of toy. Looks stupid."

"Give it here," Rho commands, prompting the boy to toss it over Rift's head. Gripped with panic, Rift watches in horror as his only possession of value is idly inspected by his worst enemy. A much stronger breeze pushes through the field as the sun has nearly set. Unable to find the courage to speak, Rift utters a weak whine, grabbing Rho's attention.

"Oh, does the baby want his toy back?" Rho teases, tossing it to another kid.

"Over here!" Another calls as they continue to toss the box to each other, just out of his reach. Straining to catch a wayward throw, Rift fails over and over again as the children continue to taunt and tease him. Stumbling after a missed catch that just grazes his fingertips, he is on his back looking up before the sting of pain is registered. A heavy swing landed on the bridge of his nose as Rho nearly managed to knock him out with his trusty sword. Tears of pain welling up in his eyes, Rift weakly grabs at his face while Rho dangles his music box over him.

"Awwww, is the baby gonna cry now?" He continues to mock.

"Rho," Ona calls, afraid to interrupt, but clearly wanting to point something out.

"Shut up," he absently responds, poking Rift mercilessly as he is denied the chance to get back to his feet.

"But, the sun," Ona pleads. Pointing at the sparse light, dipping into the desert beyond the canyon to the west.

"I said shut up!" He demands, enjoying the power too much to be distracted. Without another word, she flees back toward the bridge, still down for the time being. The pain and humiliation is too much for Rift to handle, curling into a fetal position and waiting for the children to lose interest. As the yellow glow of the sun fades into the dim, blue glow of the moon, a Wolfos howls somewhere in the distance. It is only now that Rho realizes the danger he is in. A rumble of earth to the group's left is all it takes to incite a panic. The remaining children begin to run for the bridge, only to be cut off by a bony hand springing from the earth. They've strayed from the safety of the castle walls, and now the Stalchildren are upon them. Scrambling to his feet, Rift finds Rho gripping his sword tensely, unsure if he should fight or run. Making a move to take back his music box ends in disaster as Rho's quick reflexes allow him to dodge Rift's advance and trip him back to the ground effortlessly. "Pssh! Take it," Rho shrugs, tossing the box toward the small bridge leading to Kakariko Village. Thoughtlessly chasing after his most prized possession, Rift is unaware of Rho's plot to save his gang at Rift's expense. Charging toward the multiple tiny skeletons, clumsily marching after the kids with glowing orange eyes, Rho beats them down with a rapid succession of strikes. Beckoning the group to join him he continues to knock the weak apparitions aside as they close the distance to the bridge. The endless parade of fleshless anatomy continues to emerge, their jawless mouths seeming to grin at the easy prey.

Finally locating his box, Rift turns back toward Castle Town to find the bridge is already beginning its ascent, the chains connected to the old wood loudly cranking while the children's hearts collectively sink. The dry grass crunches beneath his sandals as Rift sprints toward the group of hoodlums, desperate for some level of security as the Kakariko bridge is overrun by the teeming skeletons. Enemy or not, he needs Rho's protection if he intends to survive the night. Rho cracks yet another Stalchild's head open, the collection of bones collapsing like a house of cards and slowly seeping back into the ground like quicksand. The persistent demons seem to be defeated for the moment, the endless spawning of fresh enemies pausing for a time. Seconds from reaching the group, Rift is thrown off his feet when yet another deformed, skeletal head blasts upward from the earth. This Stalchild is much larger than its predecessors, and proportionally aggressive. Slowly crawling away on his back, Rift can't help but utter a squeak of fear, unintentionally grabbing the ghoul's attention. Its large, soulless eyes lock on the helpless boy as it gracelessly turns to claim his life. Scrambling to his feet once again, Rift breaks into a sprint in no particular direction. Glancing over his shoulder, he is relieved to find the skeleton is much slower than him, his sights already turned back to the group of screaming kids. Rho attacks courageously, but his wooden blade snaps in half against the monster's forearm. A wave of defeat washes over the group, cowering above the rushing torrent of water beneath the raised bridge. Turning away and squeezing his eyes shut, Rift does his best to block out the screams of terror as the merciless monster bears down on them. Peeking into the dim night, he realizes his troubles are far from over as yet another Stalchild has surfaced, swinging a bony hand at him. Tripping to the side, he narrowly dodges the attack as more of the undead continue to climb into the haunting blue of the moon. His eyes darting about in search of some kind of safety, he only finds the dark entrance of the Faron province, a dusty trail leading through an opening in the trees. The bouncing orange eyes seem to close in from all directions, and he is left with no alternative. Pulling his hood back onto his head, he flees into the dark forest, a place the Stalchildren will not venture.

A plethora of insects spiral about the lush green landscape, and the chirping of life cascades over him like a coming storm. Unsure what he should do, Rift moves forward slowly, utilizing his dark clothing to fade into the shadows. The eerie glow of the moon pierces through the canopy in sporadic beams, the countless tales he's heard of the woodland creatures doing nothing to stifle his fear. Without warning, a seemingly harmless plant snaps to life, aggressively latching onto his arm with its hungry mouth. A shriek of pain echoes through the trees as the plant whips him back and forth through the air before launching him into a nearby tree trunk. Writhing in pain, he grabs at his arm, dripping with the nectar salivating from the plant's carnivorous mouth. The plant itself angrily snaps its toothless, blue jaws, straining to finish off its prey like a dog on a chain. Its long, flexible stem becomes a collar of sorts, Rift's leg just out of reach as the boy painfully regains his footing. The hostile foliage seems to dare him to come closer as it returns to its passive stance, waiting for a more easily consumed victim.

Another howl cuts through the night, and Rift begins to wonder if he'd be better off facing the Stalchildren. Being thrown through the air robbed him of his bearings, the already difficult to follow path nowhere to be seen. A mammoth, hollow tree trunk serves as a hallway of sorts, its moss covered bark glistening in the moonlight. Proceeding through as carefully as he's able, Rift holds his throbbing arm, failing to fight the tears of pain away. Somewhere in the distance, past the aggressive plant life and over the buzzing insects, he'd swear he hears music. Another massive tree trunk leads him left, and the song increases in volume. Some sort of flute generating an upbeat melody, a song of dance and celebration. A song of innocence. Yet another hollow passageway of wood and moss, and Rift's focus returns to reveal he is hopelessly lost. Even if he could summon the courage to return to Hyrule Field in the dark, he couldn't find his way if he tried. The forest itself seems to spin around him, the chipper music starting to fade as he decides to go right at a small clearing with multiple exits. Suddenly, a large object strikes him, bouncing off his shoulder blade like a wayward fastball. Wincing in pain, he turns to find a deku scrub waddling toward him angrily. Generally known for their passive nature, the tiny, armless creatures shrouded in leaves have grown increasingly hostile as the drought begins to threaten the forest. Its large spout of a mouth retracts, and before Rift can react, another deku nut blasts at him as if fired from a cannon. Striking him in the stomach, the force knocks him off his feet for a breathless moment. Searching for a way out, he feels a rush of air whip past his head and realizes he is being fired upon from multiple directions. The scrubs prove every bit as relentless as the Stalchildren, emerging from seemingly everywhere. Shielding his face, Rift sprints deeper into the forest, stumbling when yet another nut collides with the back of his knee.

Tripping forward, the boy has less than a second to collect the appropriate amount of dread as a massive gorge fills his vision. The cliff he is departing appeared no different than any other random span of forest, but his perception has betrayed him, certain now this fall will be his last. Flailing through the air, a dangling vine catches his leg, and utilizing his momentum it throws him past the shallow pools of water far below. Landing harshly on a loft of roots and earth, he feels as though he may faint, the excessive adrenaline too much for him to take. A haunting mist hangs over the gorge. Caressing the walls of roots and foliage, it masks the path ahead, reflecting the dim glow of the moon like a haunted pass. Giving the prospect very little thought, Rift decides to stay put until morning. Attempting to travel in the night has brought him nothing but pain and misfortune. Through the thinning mist along the wall of his loft, Rift spots a fairy bobbing along an uncertain path. The tiny creature of light moves steadily away from him, but he remains resolute, until yet another Wolfos howl creeps over his shoulders. The beasts are getting closer and closer every time he hears them. Unable to decide what he fears more, Rift scrambles to his feet to chase down the fairy. Rounding a corner along the wall of the colossal gorge, he catches a brief glimpse of the winged creature disappearing overhead. Trotting over to the wall of tangled roots, he realizes he can climb up with little difficulty. Never one for excessive physical activity, the events thus far have left him barely able to continue. Still, fairies are believed to be every bit as lucky as they are rare. He needs any amount of good fortune, however small it may prove to be.

Pulling himself up and out of the gorge with quite a bit of effort, he again spots the fairy dancing through the air, vanishing behind a group of trees to the northeast. Jogging through the valley at a steady, but cautious pace, Rift occasionally loses his footing atop the weaving roots underfoot. The ground itself is nowhere to be found beneath the intricate tangle of branches and vines, holding strong beneath the fine mist pressed against them. The valley has many trees, but they are bunched up in small collections leaving the bulk of the area open for traversing. Growing worried, Rift has failed to spot the fairy for some time and realizes he must be moving too slowly to keep up. Circling another group of trees, his muscles collectively tense with fright to find a deku baba waiting. Its blue, salivating head rests on the ground motionlessly, and upon further inspection, Rift realizes it has been slain. Moving around the corpse as carefully as he would if it were still alive, he soon stumbles upon yet another leafy cadaver. The lofty valley becomes harder to traverse as the mist thickens at every turn, the boy's way forward just as indiscernible as his progress to this point. Following the path of death tentatively, he spots the fairy once again in the distance.

Veiled in the blue aura of the moonlit mist, a gargantuan temple of grey stone stands among the massive trees. Bitterly beaten by the hands of time, the structure looks as though it could collapse at any moment, the crafted slabs of stone and mighty pillars barely holding the structure upright. Bobbing up the steep staircase at the temple's base, the fairy is barely perceptible through the dense fog. Delighted to find some degree of civilization, Rift advances forward, stopping short when his foot collides with something warm. A mighty Wolfos, cut down in its prime, rests atop the braid of roots forever. Its yellow eyes stare into space, void of the feral focus they once knew. His heart skipping a beat, Rift is forced to take a moment to find his breath as his panning vision spots yet another downed guardian of the forest. Suddenly unsure of who, or what he is following, the boy debates his best course of action for the moment, finally deciding to proceed much more carefully. Still, whatever it is he may find inside the temple, he is certain it can't be as bad as the forest itself. Longing to be indoors once again, he climbs the dated stairs leading to the massive doorway of the structure.

Finding no door, only a large archway, Rift apprehensively steps through, baffled when his senses are fundamentally restarted. Passing through some sort of invisible portal, he only realizes how incredibly noisy the forest was now that all sound has ceased. The large room is impossibly quiet, and the interior is equally pristine, the stone floor and walls appearing as if they are immune to decay. Afraid to make a move, Rift feels reassured when he catches a glimpse of a man wearing green proceed through a large doorway on the opposite end of the room. Considering calling out to him, he quickly changes his mind, fearful of both the man's intentions and what else may hear him. Moving through the room as quietly as he's able, Rift notices a strange pedestal standing in front of the door. Odd symbols are etched into the stone atop the long, rectangular stand. A disused display for some sort of religious artifact or treasured tribute. Proceeding up the short staircase, he finds the remains of what must have been thought to be an impassable door. Massive chunks of obliterated stone are scattered about the doorway, apparently blasted by some kind of weapon. Carefully stepping between the pieces of debris, Rift stops short when the spectacle within the next room grabs hold of his eyes. A series of torches line the walls of the tremendous room, each resting upon a pillar a short distance from the outer walls. Across the walkway leading between the pillars, hundreds of stairs climb high above the ground level leading to something just out of vision atop the plateau of stone.

A monstrous man moves up the staircase at a steady stride, his long, golden trimmed, purple cape billowing with every step, and concealing his form completely. Shrouding his head is a relic of a helmet with four horn-like protrusions reaching upward from the top. The material is of unknown origin to Rift, a blend of dark colors coated in an array of symbols. Encircling his head, the helm reaches well down to his chest, ending with intricate designs. The upper-left portion of the helm seems to have been recently reconstructed, the section plagued with cracks and crevices. Unsure of where the man he saw moments ago has gone, Rift has no intention of getting the imposing warlord's attention as he steps back into the shadow of the doorway. An accidental step lands on a piece of rubble, causing a scrape of shifting stone to echo through the silent room. Spinning on his heels with impossible speed, the man on the staircase throws his encompassing cape off his chest, the material sliding around his shoulders within the custom pauldrons and resting on his back. His dark armor does little to deny his probable sinister nature as he rests both hands on the blades sheathed on his thighs. Ready for a fight, the emotionless face carved into his helm triples the already ample intimidation he is generating.

A series of sandals lightly striking stone sound as a small squad of assassins drop from their imperceptible hiding places high above. Obviously Gerudo, their dark skin and fiery, red hair are illuminated as they emerge from the shadows. Dressed in the traditional garb of the Gerudo women, their baggy, silk pants end in a jeweled belt just below the navel. An alluring brassiere matches the red texture of the pants as well as the scarf tied beneath their matching ponytails, concealing everything below their intense eyes. Two of the women brandish large scimitars, while the third skillfully twirls one of her chakra as they search for the source of the noise. Shaking in horror, Rift cannot summon the courage to move as the two subordinates close in on him while the chakra wielding leader waits near the base of the stairs. Descending upon the bad intentioned duo like a spider, an obscure figure suddenly whistles a three-note melody, pulling the attention of the women up to the dancing traces of light from the torches. Obfuscated by the large, cylindrical pillars just inside the doorway, the light and shadow wave to and fro in a black and orange theatre of stone. Finding nothing, the women remain vigilant, scowling past the rubble of the dim doorway. A torrent of needles erupts from their left like a rain storm, impaling one of the warriors countless times. Frozen in place, the unfortunate Gerudo shakes mildly, paralyzed by the metal spikes riddling her form. Stepping over to defend her ally, the warrior is hardly perceptive enough to notice the twisting shadow flip overhead, landing on her shoulders in a handstand. Unable to do anything but stare in horror, her paralyzed companion watches the figure snap her ally's neck effortlessly, dropping back into the shadows with the briefest glimpse of blond hair. Finally able to work her eyes about, the Gerudo searches between the cast shadows and flickering light furiously, desperately attempting to regain her motor functions. In the instant between heartbeats, the shadow is upon her, staring into her very soul with a single red eye. Frozen in fear himself, Rift clings to a large hunk of rock, remaining concealed for the time being. The shadow's hand gently takes hold of the Gerudo's ponytail at the base, and Rift's eyelids decide they desperately need to replenish moisture. Before the blink of his eye even reaches the halfway mark, they've both vanished with a muffled squeak of pain.

Intimately aware of the certain doom moving into the darker places would bring upon her, the remaining warrior tensely grips her circular blades, waiting for the shadow to step into the light. Soon enough, a twirling dagger enters the torchlight from behind a pillar. Spun on an index finger via a loop at the base of the handle, it sheds the last of the blood it has claimed from its most recent victim. An arm wrapped in white cloth follows suit as the figure reluctantly rounds the pillar, and is revealed. A Sheikah, pulled strait from the legends of their almost forgotten race, decides her time in the darkness is up. Her skintight, blue jumpsuit seems to let go of the darkness's embrace like a pair of lovers forced to part. A splash of blonde bangs conceals what little of her face isn't masked by the white collar of her cowl, rising up past her nose and hovering just below her single visible eye. The red symbol of the Sheikah, the tear-drop eye, stands out boldly on her tattered, white cloak. Bobbing forward, like a bird approaching a worm, her movements are too refined to be considered simply graceful. Her mannerisms are profoundly odd, but obviously well practiced as she seems to half-skip toward her opponents, a long, tightly wound braid of hair bouncing on her back. Her ninja tabi style boots practically hover across the stone floor, touching the flat slabs briefly and soundlessly. It isn't a style or grace that defines her, nor is it excessive stealth or skill. It is timing. Utterly perfect timing that allows all of these concepts to radiate from her form like an aura of mastery. Having expected this turn of events, the helmed man upon the staircase prepares to engage the sly assassin.

The subtle twang of a bow string doesn't catch the man's attention, but in the instant before the arrow hits its mark, his dark, gauntlet covered hand whips up in a blur, batting the arrow aside like a pesky fly. Even with his senses shrouded by the helm, the man's reflexes are impossibly acute. Two more arrows scream through the air in rapid succession, fired from some unseen location at the room's perimeter. The first is slapped aside just as easily as the initial shot, but the second is caught, the dark man's absurd speed becoming even more obvious. Crushing the feathered bit of wood like an oversized toothpick, the man drops the pieces to the ground tauntingly, prompting their owner to emerge with a throaty war cry. A tunic of a deep, forest green rests upon a simple farmer's outfit, aside from the leather gauntlets and weaponry. An average Hylian kite shield hangs before him in his right hand while an equally average broadsword skips along the stone in his left. Clearly having seen a hundred battles, the blade appears well past its prime, though dangerous as any weapon in the proper hands. His blonde hair is only partially concealed beneath a long green cap, flapping against the quiver on his back as he rapidly closes the distance to the staircase upon which his nemesis resides. Gliding just ahead of him, the very fairy Rift followed to the temple seems to lead the charge into battle.

A circular blade narrowly misses its target as the Sheikah twists left and continues to stalk the evasive Gerudo. The second chakra flies low along the ground, easily vaulted over by the nimble woman. Seeming to have overplayed her hand, the Gerudo waits for an ideal opportunity before summoning her weapons back to her palms. Taken by surprise, the Sheikah flips forward into a twirling display of athleticism as the blades simultaneously return along their trajectories. Catching the discs with a twirl of her own, the Gerudo advances to engage in combat of a more traditional nature. Meanwhile, the man in green leaps several stairs at a time to close the distance to his waiting antagonist. Faking a low, scooping swing, he suddenly changes into a spinning, vertical backslash, aiming to cleave the man in two. Reacting at the last possible moment, the dark man unsheathes the pair of daggers on his hips, catching the approaching blade between them. His movements are not fast in the typical sense, but appear meditated upon until their execution. His body seems to be moving as if it were submerged in water one second, and the next, a blur of dark purple, impossible to follow with untrained eyes. Throwing the young man's blade aside with a sudden blast of force, the helmed warrior stares at him curiously for only a moment, a torrent of metal clangs sounding the next as his blades bounce off the kite shield aggressively. Barely able to defend in time, the young man remains resolute, spinning into a whirlwind slash that forces his dark opponent back a step. Two successive slashes are batted aside with fierce, graceless movements, the dark man's speed and reflexes showing no openings in his guard.

Just below the battling men, the females continue to trade assaults, neither of them quite able to gain the upper hand. The Sheikah's skill and timing seem impossible to overcome, yet the Gerudo's tactics prove overwhelming, her ability to keep the ninja at range an invaluable asset in the fight. The bladed discs scream past the Sheikah at varying angles, but fail to find their mark time and time again. Managing to move in close, the assassin slashes diagonally, narrowly missing the Gerudo as she awaits her thrown blades to magnetically return to her empty hands. Seamlessly arching into a scorpion kick, the blonde ninja pulls a sharp groan of pain from her red headed combatant as her foot lands dead center in the Gerudo's armorless chest. Catching one of her returning blades, she immediately launches it back, missing the Sheikah's leg by a negligible margin. Spearing into the stone floor, the razor sharp disc remains useful, preventing the assassin's foot from reestablishing equilibrium. Forced to warble off-balanced for only a moment, the ninja must push her elasticity to its limit as the second chakra is caught and thrown at her head. Watching a small tuft of hair drift away from her, the Sheikah decides this battle has gone on long enough. Twisting impossibly into a prone position on the floor, her red eye narrows as she finds her ideal footing in her spider-like pose. Skipping back a step, the Gerudo doesn't let her gaze wander, hoping the ninja will make the critical mistake of moving into the path of her returning projectile.

A storm of stabs is consistently deflected by the helmed man's twisting blades. The suddenness of his movements makes the task of reading ahead unachievable. His every instance of attack or defense seemingly conceived only an instant before it is carried out. Striving for the unorthodox, the young man scoops a low swing, knowing it will be easily deflected and appear to offer an opening. Catching the blade between his own once again, the dark man is taken by surprise for the first time as his spirited opponent throws an overhand right with his shield. Barely able to dodge in time, the shield nicks the man's helm as his head jerks backward to avoid the collision. Having expected a solid impact, the young man is temporarily off balance, over extending his reach with no assistance recoiling. Spotting his opening, the cloaked man dips forward, his blades ripping through the air at imperceptible speeds as he attempts to cleave the man's shield arm off at the elbow. Refusing to let panic dull his senses, the young man releases his heavy shield, the weightless effect allowing him to pull his arm out of harm's way just as the pair of swords slice by like a deadly pair of scissors. The razor sharp blades promote their sinister intentions as they manage to slice the tip of the young man's fingernail off like a heated blade through a stick of butter. Determined to keep the upper hand, the helmed man knocks the idly floating shield aside with a heavy back-fisted strike, sending it soaring away. Shaking off the minor setback, the young man elects to wield his sword with both hands, amping up his aggression ten-fold as he attempts to turn the tables.

Springing toward the Gerudo like a bloodthirsty frog, the Sheikah spins into a perpetual tornado of kicks. Another cry of pain escapes the desert dweller's lips as the final kick in the series connects with her jaw, forcing her to backflip out of danger. Squeezing the handle of her unique dagger, the ninja nimbly closes the distance once again, but notices the twinkle of deception in the Gerudo's eyes. Her awe inspiring agility saves her life for the second time as she springs into a graceful gainer just as the blade returns to its owner. Landing on her wrapped knuckles directly in front of her enemy, the Sheikah pushes off the ground, spearing both heels deep into the Gerudo's exposed stomach before she can attempt another attack. The air knocked from her lungs, she inadvertently tosses her only chakra over her shoulder as she lands harshly on her back, gasping for air. Rolling off her downed opponent's chest, the ninja spins into a break-dancing maneuver, flipping back to her feet in an instant. Regaining her senses, the Gerudo summons her weapons, each of them embedded in the thick stone floor. Springing into the air, the assassin arcs her back with her dagger overhead, prepared to finish the fight once and for all. Both chakras leap up out of the floor simultaneously, taking an arching path through the air to return to the Gerudo's grip. Realizing the timing is perfect for an effective counter attack against her, the Sheikah twists her body one hundred eighty degrees before spreading her legs and reaching her idle hand downward. Her midair splits defense proves effective as the Gerudo waiting upon her back realizes her predicament far too late. Each of the chakra bite into the Sheikah's boots, but fail to return to their master's hands. The ninja's hand lands upon the Gerudo's shoulder, pinning her to the floor as the dagger stabs between her breasts. The chakra dig back into the floor, vainly attempting to return to the defeated warrior, uttering her final raspy breath. Pressed against her slain opponent, the Sheikah steals a glance at the dark man battling her companion while she waits for the blades twitching against her soles to concede where they lie.

The cloaked warrior knocks the man in green back a step with a powerful blow, earning himself a moment's reprieve to spot the ninja absently lowering the eyelids of his comrade while plucking the knife from her chest. Behind her golden bangs, her red eyes begin to study her new prey, angrily slashing at her courageous hero in sudden bursts of speed. Dodging another onslaught, the hero spins to the side, slashing and stabbing without restraint. The cloaked warrior catches the man's broadsword between his blades once again, thinking briefly of his fallen companions, then realizing the young man's shield rests far below near a distant pillar. A kick finds the hero's stomach, every bit as brutal as it is sudden. Wincing from the unpredictable attack, he strains to shield himself from the coming blow when his ally appears from nowhere, joining the fight from above. Her reflexes significantly more honed than her companions, the Sheikah attacks and dodges with ease despite the man's unorthodox style. Their strength combined, the duo quickly overpower their helmed antagonist, now finding himself permanently on the defensive.

Throwing his large cloak into the air, the man eludes a wayward stab from the ninja while parrying a heavy swing from her ally. The critical second of weakness allows only for a blunt strike to the hero's temple, knocking him to the ground with a grunt of pain. Wasting no time, the Sheikah takes full advantage of the man's overzealous attack, whipping her legs into a triangle lock around his forearm. Forced to use her entire body to generate enough momentum, she twists the man's entire arm just enough to force the blade from his grasp, the short sword thrown further up the staircase, and landing with a series of clangs. Instantly enraged, the man grabs hold of her vulnerable ankle as she attempts to disengage the leg lock. Able to maintain her balance, the Sheikah is still unable to pull her leg free of the man's powerful grip, catching her in a desperate position. Winding up for an amputating chop, a painful slash hacks across his back, almost able to penetrate his armor. Knocked forward, the man's balance is thrown when the woman backflip kicks his helm with her available leg, the momentum carrying her overhead and tearing her ankle free. Finishing the somersault she lands an additional back kick to the man's wobbling head before dropping down next to her determined ally, ready to finish the outnumbered warlord.

Tripping forward, the man's cloak billows, revealing the large gash cut diagonally through it. Catching himself before he tumbles onto the stairs, he lifts a shoulder to glance back at the duo. Already moving in for the kill, both the Hylian and the Sheikah strive to land the final blow. Refusing to admit defeat, the man's helm suddenly glows eerily, the symbols peeling outward as a dark aura emanates from its crevices. A sudden blast of invisible force pushes the duo back a step, giving the man a head start as he charges up the stairs. Their faces twitching with irritation in near unison, the pair quickly chase after him. Spotting his secondary blade resting upon a step, the man scoops it into his idle hand without losing an ounce of speed. The unintelligible glyphs and symbols continue to spread outward, projected into the open air around the helm, charging up for some unknown purpose. Sheathing his swords, the man has nearly reached the summit, moving with imposing speed toward his goal. Illuminated by the lone opening in the ceiling of the temple, the master sword, the blade of evil's bane rests within the pedestal of time at the center of the platform. Finally finishing his ascent, the man stops short, straining to harness the power radiating from his helm. Quickly focusing the swirling darkness into a concentrated beam, he fires a colossal blast of energy from his palms, tearing open the dimensional doorway to the Sacred Realm.

Kept at bay by the impressive power of the helm, the duo now continue their chase as the man sprints through the door, and into a dazzling golden light emanating from within. Eying the master sword with an impatient grimace, the young man decides there is no time, forcing his legs to carry him even faster as his blade wags in his wake like a metallic tail. The dark man's boots hit the soft dirt with rapid crunching noises as his eyes become entranced with the intoxicating wonder of the Triforce. Moments from his grasp, the artifact erases the years of regret from his mind as the golden glow encompasses everything around him. The imprisonment, his botched execution, the accursed hero of time, all of it fades from his memory until an overwhelming pain drops him to his knees. He hadn't heard the man in green catch up to him with a cry that echoed throughout the realm. Glancing down through the vertical slit of his helm, he finds the broadsword almost completely through his chest, the hilt pressed firmly against his back. With an assertive shove, the young man pushes him to his hands and knees, waiting for death to finally take him away forever. Everything was for naught. The years of struggle and planning. His resurrection and rise to power. Only to be stopped so close to his prize... No. As long as there is a breath in his lungs, he will not be stopped. He cannot be stopped.

The primal roar of a beast tears out of his throat when he uppercuts the young man on the jaw unexpectedly, sending him sprawling into the approaching Sheikah. With the very last of his strength, he clumsily marches forward, his fingertip finding the glistening edge of the most sacred of relics before he collapses to the ground. As if the sun itself were blinked out of existence, the entire realm goes pitch black. The colossal pyramid the Triforce once rested upon ceases to be discernible, the only source of light twinkling from the dimensional doorway behind them. Unsure how to react, the duo duck for cover when the hero's broadsword rockets between them like a whirling propeller. Spinning through the portal, and past the massive staircase, the sword spears deeply into the wall next to Rift's hiding place. Gasping with shock, the terrified boy remains unable to move, aside from the endless shaking fits of adrenaline and fear. The forest will certainly kill him, but his chances of survival don't seem any better in his current setting. So he does the only thing he knows how. He hides. Praying to the deity he was told would save him from any peril.

The hero's boots kick black dirt in his wake as he makes a run for the master sword. Following suit, the Sheikah nimbly bobs backward, expecting an attack at any moment. The most sinister laughter booms from every direction of the Sacred Realm. Moments from seizing the blade, the man in green is lifted off the ground by some unseen force, his flailing arms reaching for the blue grip of the sword's handle. Kept just out of reach, the young man sails over the pedestal completely, lifted high into the air before he is slammed to the ground brutally. The wind knocked out of him, he grabs at his chest, straining to catch his breath. Passing through the portal, the ninja dips off the side of the platform, vanishing into shadow while the dark man comes into view. An orb of powerful energy surrounds his form, the aura somehow glowing black and white at the same time. The glyphs and symbols from his helm begin to slowly spin about his head, his power continuing to grow exponentially. Stepping through the portal, the orb surrounding him wavers for a moment, the unbelievable strain to hold the might in balance beginning to take its toll. However, the cloaked man laughs again, exerting total control over the most potent power in existence just as the Sheikah descends upon him.

Screaming in agony, the assassin is stopped moments from landing upon the man's shoulders. The orb surrounding him assaults her with electricity, the buzzing and crackling light illuminating the entire room before she is thrown to the ground next to her hero. Making yet another dash for the sword, the young man is punched in the stomach with a bolt of lightning, throwing him back onto the staircase. The undeniable power causes the man to grin crazily beneath his helm, but even so he knows there is only one remnant capable of harming him. The helmed villain raises a single palm as the young man pulls the Sheikah to a sitting position. Shaking her head, she appears to be alright, but the duo have failed to keep the man from achieving his goals. Beginning to shake within its pedestal, the master sword cracks down the length of its blade, the almighty power of the Triforce proving too much for it to resist. His eyes widening, the hero can only stare in disbelief when the blade of evil's bane shatters to pieces, each of them blasting completely out of the temple in different directions. The only surviving fragment, the blue handle, dropping onto the pedestal with a weak thud while the owner of the Triforce barks more evil laughter. Multiple beams of blue light peer through the holes created in the thick walls of the temple, and the unsuccessful couple feel the verge of defeat upon them.

Never giving up for even a moment, the man in green pulls his bow from his back, lining up an arrow with its target. Thoroughly amused, the dark man chuckles uncontrollably at his misplaced bravery, crossing his arms and waiting for the pathetic attack to fail. Knowing they are out of options, the Sheikah scours her mind for anything to outwit her godlike opponent. Rarely failing her before this moment, her wisdom persists, knowing there must be a way to strip the warlock of his power. Unable to find the willpower to do anything at all, Rift sits with his knees to his forehead, hugging his shins tightly. The worst day of his life seems as though it will never end, the screams and blasts of light above paralyzing him with fear. As the arrow disintegrates the moment it enters the dark man's force field, his delight is palpable, rhythmically shrugging while relishing in his supremacy. As if the arrow struck some unseen weakness, his aura falters, warbling and flickering as if its source of strength has been disconnected. Seconds later, it disappears completely. Stricken with confusion, he drops to a single knee as his power flees from his body rapidly. A golden hue spreads through his veins, glowing through his armor as if it has turned translucent. Fighting to regain control, he lets out a roar of desperation as the entire room is consumed with a blinding light.

The vision-obliterating white fades from everyone's sight slowly, the room returning to the dim flicker of the torch-lit walls. The portal leading into the Sacred Realm has vanished, the three combatants standing about the empty pedestal of time. The Sheikah is no longer among them, a gorgeous Hylian princess standing in her place. An elegant pink and white dress flows down from her jeweled necklace, the royal crest emblazoned upon it. Brownish-blonde hair flows down from her golden crown, her blue eyes fixated on her right hand. Removing his mighty helm, the former possessor of the complete Triforce reveals himself to be a Gerudo man. Tightly braided red hair fades down into a short beard upon his angry grimace. Tossing his bow to the ground, the young man steals a glance at his sword hand, not expecting the Gerudo to launch yet another attack. Stopping at arm's length, the mighty punch hits a magic wall just before finding its target. Whipping his vision to the right, he finds the princess's outstretched arm, her hand glowing with a small, golden triangle. Fuming with rage, he looks back to the hero to find his left hand risen, revealing a triangle of his own.

The infinite power of the goddesses has been split once again, despite the Gerudo's best efforts. The resulting anger is nothing that can be controlled or stifled. He must kill them both. A garbled roar spills from his tongue as the evil Gerudo summons a dark vortex of energy around his glowing, golden hand. The next punch is not stopped so easily, shattering the princess's force field and landing square in the young man's chest, sending him flying down the massive staircase. Wasting no time, he slaps his hand to the floor, a whirlwind of purple spawning around his feet as a fireball flies past his head and explodes. Preparing a second ball of fire to be thrown, the princess fails to notice the dark energy forming around her feet. Unable to launch her second attack in time, a series of black chains leap from the ground beneath her, seizing her form and radiating with simmering purple energy. Fighting to break free of the constricting restraints, the princess ceases her struggle when the man marches over, stopping inches from her face. An authoritative slap across her cheek leaves her wincing with her eye tightly shut, the blow meant to send a message more so than dealing damage. A heavy footstep betrays the sneak attack as they young man has returned with sword in hand, leaping through the air for a double handed finishing strike. Catching the blade in his hand at the last possible moment, the pain streaming up from the Gerudo's bleeding palm only serves to further enrage him. Tearing the sword from the hero's grasp, he summons another vortex of energy before punching the tested steel to pieces.

Without even flinching at the loss of his only remaining weapon, the young man leaps into the air, rocking the Gerudo's head to the side with a roundhouse kick. Continuing to trade blows, the Hylian hero is quickly overwhelmed by the man's brute strength. A rapid series of devastating punches and kicks leaves the relentless young man barely clinging to consciousness. Seizing him by his tunic, the power being summoned to the tyrant's fist for the final blow shrouds the entire room in darkness, the swirling hurricane of black and purple causing every loose object in the room to gravitate toward it. The boulders of the destroyed entrance, the torches attached to the pillars, even the weaponry of fallen comrades begins to slide toward the black hole high above the room's center. Prepared to obliterate his nemesis once and for all, a piercing ray of white light cuts through the darkness, grabbing his attention. Using every available ounce of energy to assault the man in green, the princess has been freed from his dark restraints upon her. A conjured bow in hand, she has summoned an arrow of vibrant light, squaring up the shot carefully. Infected with memories of the pain the magic arrows have caused him, the Gerudo tosses the beaten hero aside, turning to face the new threat. Struggling to align her aim within the persistent pulling force of dark energy, the princess fires the arrow just as the dark man pounces at her.

A power struggle of cataclysmic proportions ensues, the divine light colliding with the dark energy, blasting pulsing waves of intensity and color in every direction. Only able to alter the arrow's path, the man's arm burns with purifying light as the arrow pierces through his punch, colliding with the wall behind him. A whirlwind of light and darkness illuminates and obfuscates the room as a portal to the Sacred Realm is opened by the holy projectile. The lone soul of evil in the room is pulled into the air, the portal churning like a vacuum of light, sucking the Gerudo into the realm of darkness he created. Flailing through the air, he draws his blades, stabbing them into the two pillars directly in front of the hungry portal. Straining to pull himself away from the torrent of wind, clawing at his form with invisible hands, the man's arms are pushed to the brink of surrender while the portal slowly shrinks in circumference. The vacuum finally relents, the portal closing completely with a brief wink of light as it fails to claim his soul. Seemingly trapped in a crucified position, far too high above the stone base of the room to simply drop to ground level, the man rips his blades free without a second thought. Sprinting across the open air, circular glyphs of purple light form beneath his large strides, ushering him back into the fight. With another light arrow already pulled tightly back, the princess shows no signs of hesitation as the man returns to the platform.

Waiting an instant too long, the princess loses her opening as the man scoops his helm up from its temporary resting place beside the pedestal, and forms a glyph beneath himself. In the blink of an eye, the glyph jumps upward, launching him through the lone opening in the ceiling. Aggravated by his successful retreat, the princess drops to a knee, the mental stress of summoning successive light arrows proving too much for her to bear as the entity of divine power is reabsorbed into her hand. Limping to her side, her hero offers a hand, though his battered form is in no condition to carry her. Accepting with a smile, the princess climbs to her feet, and the comrades help each other descend the long staircase toward the exit. Now that the action has subsided, the room has grown extremely dark, all of the torches having been plucked off the wall by the black hole resembling assault. Through the small opening in the ceiling, moonlight casts a blue shape on the floor near the entrance, gradually ascending to reveal a terrified child's hiding place. Unsure if he should stay or run, Rift's brief moment of calm has passed as the duo draws closer. Dipping into the room, and out of the thin beam of light's path, he presses his back against a nearby pillar, the cool stone relaxing him as best it can. The couple proceeds past without incident and Rift breathes a heavy sigh of relief. He doesn't know how, but he's survived. Reaching up to wipe the sweat from his brow, panic grabs hold of his heart one last time. He has received a triangle on his hand as well, but unlike the recently departed combatants, his does not possess the golden glow of the Triforce. The inverted pyramid glows a haunting, transparent blue, allowing him to see clearly through his own palm. His senses rapidly grow fuzzy as his balance wavers, the room tilting and rotating around him slowly. Thoroughly overwhelmed, the boy passes out in a bed of shadows.

## The Empty Handed:

### Some Safety Comes in Numbers

Lying inert in a dreamless sleep, Rift fails to notice the thin beam of light tracing an arc through the large room as most of the day passes. He hears a woman's voice softly calling, but he cannot make out the words. A silhouette of a stranger he cannot seem to reach, always drifting just out of earshot. Lost in the dark blanket of his mind, he subconsciously yearns for his mother's warmth, having spent too many nights shivering himself to sleep. Gradually surfacing from his impromptu slumber, the subtle coo of, "wake up," only courses him to stir slightly before descending back into unconsciousness. "Hey!" The voice finally declares with some authority. Snapping to attention, Rift's eyes dart about his surroundings, but he is alone in the large room. Just as the previous night, the colossal structure is void of external influence, the sounds of the forest halting at its doors. "Listen," the voice begins, her friendly tone sounding as though it should belong to a middle aged woman. "Your hand glows with the power of the void. You are the chosen one," she explains, her mildly chipper manner sounding mature, but not maternal. Thoughtful, but not compassionate.

"W-what?" Rift eventually stammers, understandably perplexed. Locking his eyes upon his palm, he instantly remembers the eerie hue resonating from the transparent triangle. A subtly swirling vortex daring his eyes to move closer. Somewhere in the infinite depths of the dimensional window, he can feel the enticing call of a siren as invisible hooks tug at his heart, drawing him closer and closer.

"That Gerudo shattered the Triforce again," the voice explains, unintentionally snapping Rift out of his trance. "You know the legend, right?"

"Triforce? What's going on? Who are you?"

"Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself I suppose. My name is Mai," she greets, waiting for the gesture to be returned. "What's yours?" She has to ask to break the awkward silence.

"Rift," he reveals after a bit of thought. Unsure of whom or what he is speaking to, he decides it knowing his name is the least of his worries.

"Nice to meet you, Rift," she smirks, seemingly pleased to simply be conversing.

"Y-yeah," he mumbles, still searching the empty room with his back to the wall.

"You look confused," she giggles. Obviously a carefree spirit, her casual nature speeds Rift to a less panicked state of mind. Easing off the wall he continues to listen. "This might come as a shock, but I'm one of the goddesses responsible for this world. When that man broke the Triforce, I was finally released, and you have become likened to my essence."

"Goddesses?" He interjects, setting aside the prospect of having lost his mind for the moment. "I thought Hylia was the only goddess."

"Of course," she sighs, a hint of attitude seeping through her words for the first time. "Hyruleans haven't worshiped us for a long time now. Everyone used to know the legend of the three golden goddesses. Time has found new deities and they've forsaken us," she admits, suddenly sounding quite sad.

"Three goddesses?" Rift thinks out loud, the influx of information distracting him from the fact that there is a voice in his head that isn't his own. The general naiveté proves advantageous if only to distract him from far grander revelations.

"The popular legend has remained three, yes, but in fact there have always been four. My sisters didn't want anyone to know about me, and time has proven them successful in their endeavors. Even when the Triforce was first separated, they only offered a taste of their power to the recipients. The majority was kept intact to sustain my imprisonment," she reveals, a substantial bitterness lingering in her words.

"Imprisonment? What'd you do?" He asks with unhindered trepidation. As if having a voice in his head weren't bad enough, she's an escaped criminal to boot. Suddenly, her happy-go-lucky routine pales in comparison to her potential crimes.

"It's not what I did. It's what they were afraid I would do. I never wanted this world to become what it has. There is nothing but pain and suffering in every corner of this kingdom. You've seen it, haven't you?" She asks, her compassion shining through her words. "You've felt it yourself?"

"Yeah," he has to admit with a somber nod. His parents taken from him. The drought, the crime, the hunger, the weakness, and the humiliation begin to well up in him. All of it has crushed down upon him his entire life. To no end but his own torment. He'd never truly thought about the meaning of it all. Why he is meant to suffer day after day. Why the other children are driven to harass him at every turn. Why the lands are plagued with dark uprisings time and time again. He has neither the knowledge nor the experience to even attempt an understanding. This is simply the only world he's ever known.

"This is why we were drawn together. My sisters were forced apart so severely I was finally able to escape. It's terrible what they've done to everyone. What they've done to you," she points out, pulling Rift from his vacant stare. Suddenly, this ancient lie he's never known is given form and has a voice. The existence of goddesses of creation, perpetually stained with a civilization's anguish, rotates all the hidden pieces into perspective. His sorrow finally attains a source, daunting as it may be. "If I could have stopped them, you wouldn't have been forced to endure all of this suffering. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, though," he quickly points out, feeling genuinely empathetic for the mysterious voice of Mai. "They all ganged up on you, right?"

"Yes," she sighs, seeming to want to change the subject. "I'm no match for them on my own."

"I know how you feel," he admits, trailing off as his memories drift to Rho, jabbing at him mercilessly. Though Rift takes no pleasure in the misfortune of others, seeing the boy fail to defend the other children gave him an overdue bit of satisfaction, however brief. Ona's screams of terror slapped the feeling from his heart as Rift ran as fast as his legs could carry him, his eyes mashed shut as he tried to block out the horrified cries. He couldn't have helped them. It's the only reasoning he has ever needed. He couldn't have helped if he tried.

"Would you help me?" She asks, a profoundly innocent curiosity pressing into his ears.

"H-help you? I c-can't," he mumbles, instantly uncomfortable. "I mean, I can't do anything well. I wouldn't be any help."

"That's not true," she giggles, rapidly growing more comfortable with her new companion. "Everyone can do something well."

"Well not me. You should find someone else," he blurts out, quickly regretting it when an uncomfortable lull in the conversation ensues.

"I chose you, Rift," she half-whines, prodding at his vulnerable sympathy. "I don't want someone else." Badly blushing in the dim room, Rift doesn't have the words to respond. In the silence that follows, he feels as though she is in the room with him. She is sitting right next to him, so close he can feel her breath against his neck. She is real, and she chose him. A lifetime of rejection has led him to being chosen the one time it truly matters. It seems all but foolhardy to refuse.

"What do you want me to do?" He finally asks, an anxious quiver tickling down his spine.

"I don't want you to do anything against your will," she admits, her tone heightening as she tries to avoid offending. "All I want is to stop my sisters before they can hurt anyone else. I can't do it on my own, but together I think we might stand a chance."

"I'm not brave," Rift painfully admits, not wanting to enter into a contract under false pretenses.

"You don't have to be," Mai chuckles, sensing him slowly coming around.

"I'm not strong either," he declares, feeling more and more pathetic with each proclamation.

"It's not about being strong or brave," she comforts, reaching out a nonexistent hand to touch his cheek. "I just need you to try."

"Why?" He sighs, ready to give up long before he's begun. "Why me?"

"Because you're the only one who sees the pain I see. I feel like I can trust you."

"I don't know," he sighs, weighing his options.

"Please? I don't want to be alone anymore. Do you?" His eyes instantly betray his potent loneliness as he reacts to the question. She wants to be with him. Despite all of his shortcomings, she wants to be with him. The instant emotional attachment doesn't seem real to the boy. "If you'll help me, I'll never leave you," she expresses, her words conveying her genuine feelings well.

"Promise?" Rift asks after a moment.

"Promise," Mai promptly agrees.

"Okay. Where do we start?"

"Thank you. We should get out of here before it gets dark," she admits, noting the late afternoon sun peering through the small hole in the high ceiling.

"Where are we going?" He asks, starting toward the door, stepping between the bits of rubble. His disclaimer of bravery was no ruse, but still, he can't help but try his best to impress the mysterious woman. His meager amount of initiative will have to do for now.

"A special place in the forest. I'll show you the way." Shuffling through the massive stone architecture, Rift makes his way back into the forest. The sun strikes his eyes through the canopy as he exits the temple. Absently pulling his hood back over his head, he trots down the short staircase and proceeds across the loft of roots. "We need to get back to the Lost Woods," Mai instructs as Rift makes his way back down the ladder of roots he climbed the night before. "Do you think you can climb up a vine?"

"I don't know," Rift admits, thoroughly uncertain of his athletic prowess, though he's never truly tested it.

"I believe in you," she conveys sincerely, adding, "we won't let anything get in our way. We're going to save Hyrule."

"You really think we can?" He asks, spotting a low hanging vine on this side of the gorge. Dangling at different distances and lengths, a plethora of thick, ropey foliage sways gently from the canopy far above. A rush of startled birds pours from distant trees, rapidly concealing and revealing the sun. There is some potent spirit within the realm of nature. A concept Rift has never grasped, despising most outdoor activities. The beauty of the forest is beyond him, but it is of little consequence.

"I know we can. First things first, let's get out of this place." After a deep breath, Rift takes hold of the vine, slowly working his way upward. Once again, the dim blue triangle fills his vision, and succumbing for only a moment, he quickly sets his mind back to the task. "You're doing great," Mai cheers, "use your legs for momentum to get to the next one." Heeding her advice, Rift kicks back and forth before making the short leap to the next vine. Gaining a little confidence, he continues upward, the vines offering a path all the way up to the very ledge he fell from. Several jumps later, Rift successfully grabs hold of a vine, but the slightly thinner circumference snaps the moment his weight is applied. With a panicked scream, he tumbles downward, all of the available vines just out of his reach as the fear takes hold. "Here!" Mai shouts, the faint outline of a ghostly hand pushing a vine closer to him. Reacting just in time, Rift grabs hold and squeezes the leafy weave of stems in a death grip. His falling momentum causes the vine to swing all the way to the wall of stems and roots overlooking the gorge. Colliding with the soft wall, he grabs hold, letting the vine that saved his life swing back without him. "That was close," Mai breathes, relieved he managed to survive the fall. Withholding comment for the time being, Rift struggles to pull himself up the gradual slope of the wall. The weave of earth and roots feels uncomfortable against his soft, uncalloused hands, the dirt working its way between his fingernails equally unwelcome. Finally emerging back onto solid ground, he gradually catches his breath.

"You can move things?" He asks after calming his racing heart.

"Small things," Mai shrugs, not thinking the feat particularly awe inspiring. "It's because I've been trapped so long, my powers in this world are weakened. I should be able to help you more once I get the hang of it again."

"I just," he starts, not sure what questions to ask to achieve a better understanding.

"Hmm?" Mai asks curiously.

"Nothing," he concludes, shaking his head and pulling his hood back up. Continuing forward, Rift is relieved to find no deku shrubs in the area. The deku baba are much easier to spot in the daytime, and he avoids them without incident. Still, the carnivorous plants watch him pass with great interest, their sense of smell capable of tracking far better than most of their vision based competition. Soon enough, Rift can almost recognize his surroundings as he emerges back onto the beaten path. A short bridge of wood and rope connects a small gap in the roadway. After passing beneath a dark archway of earth, the narrow passage expands into a large valley. The area seems to have been inhabited once upon a time, but now it is void of any occupants at all. "Where are we?"

"This is where the Kokiri lived before the drought. See the stream bed over there?" Mai points out, the yellowish-green blight upon the ground shaped in such a way it could have channeled water long ago.

"Yeah," he nods, the depression in the earth looking as though it hasn't seen a drop of water in quite some time. At the far end of the valley, thick overgrowth blocks what must have been a passageway a long time ago. Several large, decaying tree trunks have entrances carved into them, but the potential of dangerous creatures inside is enough to quash Rift's curiosity.

"The entrance to the woods is up there," Mai reveals, a pair of steep hillsides to Rift's left making the climb difficult, but possible. A large, hollowed tree trunk acts as a cylindrical hallway into the thick woods atop the hills.

"Through here, then turn right," Mai announces with an upbeat tone.

"How do you know which way to go?" Rift can't help but ask, feeling permanently lost in the lush environment. The deeper into the forest he travels, the more lively and vibrant the trees and wildlife become. Sparse patches of dehydrated grass slowly become lush blossoms of ferns and flowers. The rich smell of young tree bark grows overwhelming, and pure.

"I can hear the music. It will lead us to the Kokiri. Left, then right again."

"Music?" He mumbles, listening intently while following her directions. The hollowed trees serve simply to disorient, every intersection virtually identical to the previous one. The rarely traveled dirt path offers no clues as to the choices of previous adventurers either.

"One of the children are playing I'm sure. Left."

"Children? In the forest? Isn't it dangerous?"

"Not for these children," she chuckles, ignoring their surroundings while feeding Rift directions. "The forest is their home. The drought has forced them much deeper, but I suppose one patch of trees is as good as any other. Straight through here, then left," she continues to instruct, the music swelling with every hollowed trunk they pass through. The multitude of insects swells with every corner rounded, the dragonflies seeming to glow in the beams of sunlight. The occasional squirrel scampers away from the path, not desperate enough for food to risk a confrontation with a traveler. The vivid greens are a humbling sight for someone so accustomed to the decay of Castle Town.

"Will they let us through?" Rift asks, failing to mask his nervousness.

"Of course, they're friendly to other kids, but they don't like adults. Turn right." Traversing the final trunk, Rift finds himself in a large clearing populated by children dressed in green. Hovering above each and every child's head, a fairy dances through the air. Massive tree trunks serve as homes, the large arches carved out serving as doorways to the wooden abodes. The architecture is of a minimalist nature, some of the colossal trees serving as multi-story apartments, but only altered just enough to be inhabitable. Awestruck by the stunning visual, Rift ponders if the man he followed to the temple lives here.

"Hey," Mai calls, snapping Rift from his brief trance as he takes in the sight. "Just to be on the safe side, you should cover your hand with something." Having forgotten about his faintly glowing triangle, Rift takes a moment to determine the best way to conceal it. Finally, he tears a large portion of his cloak, revealing some of his tattered, dirty shirt beneath. Wrapping the cloth around his palm, he secures the knot using his teeth. A small hole, already present in the material, offers a space to put his thumb through. Finished with his work, the meager, glove-like accessory is only mildly suspicious.

"Looks great!" Mai exclaims, beginning to seem excessively impressed by everything Rift does.

"You think so?" He asks, reassured with his handiwork.

"Absolutely. Let's go." Proceeding forward carefully, Rift meets friendly faces as he makes his way through the clearing. To the left, a series of plateaus serve as the agricultural area, a variety of crops strategically positioned to receive water from the weakly trickling creek slithering in from deeper in the forest.

"Hey, you need some arrows? Deku nuts, maybe?" A voice calls from the doorway of a hollowed tree with a decorative awning. After a moment, Rift realizes it's a sales pitch. A blonde girl with pig-tails stares at Rift mysteriously from atop the awning of the store, something in her eyes advertising her intense interest.

"I don't have any money," he admits with a shrug.

"Well then get out of here! Don't need any gawkers driving away business," the store owner rants, though no one seems the least bit interested in entering the store. The blonde girl's unblinking eyes never drift from Rift as he continues through the area.

"Why is she staring at me like that?" Rift mumbles under his breath.

"Maybe she likes you," Mai declares, her words always encouraging. "We need to get past the ginger up ahead. He doesn't look like the welcoming type." The steep, earthy walls of the area narrow to a small passageway at the far end. Standing beside the almost empty creek bed, a tough-looking boy stands guard.

"What should I say?"

"Just ask him to let you pass. Try to sound confident," she adds, unsure if Rift is up to the challenge. Long before he even gets within speaking distance, the red-headed Kokiri already has a halting palm raised in Rift's direction.

"What do you want?" He asks, his cocked head and unfriendly grimace painting him to be the type who doesn't shy away from a fight.

"Can I get through?" Rift asks, failing miserably at Mai's advice.

"I don't know, can you?" The boy fires back, crossing his arms.

"I don't want any trouble, I just need to get through here," Rift admits, desperate to avoid any confrontation.

"For what? You don't even have a fairy. What are you, a human?" The boy asks, squinting at the dark visage beneath the black hood. Unsure how to answer, Rift is ready to walk away when a girl's voice catches his attention.

"Let him through, Mido," the blonde from the shop says, her zombie-like voice matching her crazed glare well. Shocked by her sudden appearance, Rift manages not to overreact too badly. Her eyes remain fixated on Rift's shrouded face as she talks.

"Why should I? And since when do I take orders from you, Fado?" Mido asks, though his weakened demeanor is far from appalled.

"I said let him through," she quickly demands, her tone gaining some base for just a moment. "He's different. He reminds me of someone," she half-mumbles, slowly drifting closer to the boy in dark clothing.

"You don't mean," Mido starts, losing his voice when Fado's eyes latch onto him for the first time. Clearing his throat, he continues, "alright, but he doesn't look like he can defend himself. It's dangerous in there you know," he concludes, glancing back to Rift.

"I'll be fine," Rift quickly mutters, eager to get away from the creepy blonde. Passing through the gap leads to a twisting hallway of earth as the pair of Kokiri watch him depart.

"Listen, I know it's dangerous ahead, but I'll help you, alright?" Mai assures, not wanting him to lose his nerve.

"Okay," Rift apprehensively nods, only now wondering what he's gotten himself into. The green corridor splits into two paths, and Mai instructs him to turn right, the recently cleared path revealing a hungry Deku Baba. Much larger than the one that attempted to eat him last night, it's rows of razor sharp teeth drip with greenish nectar. It's large, bluish head bobs atop its flexing stem, ready for its prey to venture too close.

"Get ready, we're going to dodge past him," Mai declares, hoping to get Rift's adrenaline pumping.

"What? A-are you crazy? That thing will eat me," he stammers, already shying away from the predator. Scooping its head to and fro along the ground, the fanged foliage seems to be limbering up to catch the coming meal more easily.

"No it won't. You're faster than it is. You've got to trust me," Mai attempts to assure.

"There's no way, I mean look at it," he points out, the carnivorous lips seeming to smile at Rift's indecisive nature. A large tongue slaps against the drooling interior of the plant's mouth knocking bits of small woodland creatures out from between its teeth.

"Please? I promise we can do this. We've come this far together," Mai pleads, sounding as comforting as she's able.

"How? How can I get past?"

"Okay, you'll walk strait toward it, and when I say left or right, I want you to dive in that direction. I can tell which way he's going to attack before he tries it."

"You're sure?" He asks, obviously not convinced.

"Of course, have I led you the wrong way yet?"

"No, I guess not," he has to admit, recalling how she's guided him all this way. Comforted him. Saved his life.

"Come on, let's do this," she exclaims, sounding motivated as ever. Several apprehensive breaths later, Rift advances forward. The plant's head warbles, like a snake being hypnotized by a flute. Before he even thinks he's close enough to be attacked, Rift hears Mai shout, "left!" Diving to his left, Rift nimbly avoids the snapping jaws as they lunge forward. Tucking into a ball and rolling back to his feet, Rift sprints past the plant, angrily snapping its jaws as its prey escapes.

"You were right!" Rift exclaims, glancing back and breathing excitedly.

"See? Stick with me kid and we'll be alright," she teases, happy with their progress.

"Is that where we're going?" He asks, finally noticing the gargantuan tree at the center of a vast clearing. Circling the massive plant, he finds deep recessions in the trunk which resemble a face, the large arch entrance appearing to be a mouth frozen in a sad yawn.

"Not exactly," Mai smirks, clearly hiding something. "See that spot over there where the grass is blue?" Searching his surroundings, Rift locates the area she is referring to. Far to the right of the clearing's entrance, the lush, green field is marred by a small patch of odd, dark-blue grass.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Step on it. You'll see." Proceeding across the grassy field, Rift steps on the oddly shaped patch of grass without a second thought. Suddenly, gravity grabs hold of his gut as his foot dives through the earth as if it isn't there. Falling forward, he reaches out his hands, but they too push through the ground like an illusion. As his hood falls off his head, he drops into the imperceptible hole, and gravity is immediately turned upside down. Down becomes up and up becomes down when he finds his footing upon the dark blue grass on the other side. Reacting slowly, his senses find he is standing in an entirely new setting. A massive, decrepit temple stands in the distance, replacing the old tree and green landscape with a profoundly different atmosphere. The droning noise of wildlife is much harsher in this dim world, the entire environment seeming to have a darker tint upon it. A small archway of stone is wrapped in an embrace of dark vines, leading to a bridge spanning toward the temple. Below is a disgusting swampland, the pools of water slowly churning as the whirlpool endlessly drains through some unseen cracks at the lake's bed.

"Where are we?" Rift asks after taking in his surroundings.

"The Dark Forest Temple," Mai informs. "A secret place where my special armor is hidden. We're going to retrieve it, and we'll be much stronger once we have it."

"How did I get here?" He ponders out loud, turning to find the small patch of vibrant green he traversed surrounded by the dark blue flora of this bizarre world.

"A very long time ago, when my sisters created this world, I wept for the poor creatures that would have to live here. I couldn't help it. My sisters wouldn't listen to me, and afterward, they trapped me in the Triforce in order to keep me from mending their mistakes. They were too proud to heed my warnings," she continues with a sad sort of nostalgia. "Anyway, the places where my tears fell became portals to alternate dimensions like this one. My armor is hidden here, so only someone of my choosing can find them."

"Wow," he mumbles, the revelations leaving him in a speechless stupor.

"I know. It's a lot to take in. I'm trying not to overwhelm you, so I'll just give you a piece at a time. Right now, we need to get to that temple."

"Okay," Rift agrees, feeling a little more confident.

"I'll always be here to help. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," he nods, with more certainty. With only a voice to perceive, he cannot sense the contentment bordering on glee that Mai radiates upon hearing the response. Without a second thought, Rift jogs beneath the archway and onto the crumbling bridge. The pillars holding the slabs of stone aloft appear to be ready to collapse at any moment, their spongy, cream-colored texture showing obvious signs of imminent failure. Large sections have already fallen, forcing Rift to carefully maneuver forward. Hopping over a small gap, he is taken by surprise when the pillar below gives way, the large slab of stone suddenly plummeting toward the bleak, green water below.

"Here!" Mai shouts, a translucent hand emerging into the open air. The forearm fades into nothingness before ever reaching the elbow, though the limb is much more visible than the first time Mai saved him. The triangle beneath Rift's makeshift glove glows much brighter as he reaches for the ghostly grasp. Grabbing hold, the soft grip quickly swings Rift back upward with some effort. Obtaining just enough momentum to grab hold of the ledge, he scrambles upward, his heart rate gradually returning to normal while he resides on his hands and knees.

"How'd you do that?" He asks, pushing off the stone to rest upright on his knees.

"I told you I'll help," Mai giggles.

"Yeah, but," Rift starts, his head beginning to ache as he fails to understand Mai's abilities. "Thank you," he finally blurts out after shaking his thoughts free.

"Anytime," she chirps, a sincere sort of joy taking over her tone every time Rift shows even the smallest amount of gratitude. "Let's keep going." Continuing forward, Rift finally arrives at the end of the line, a huge section of the bridge missing just before the door to the temple. Feeling defeated, his body language shows the state of his spirit.

"Now what?" He asks, knowing he cannot possibly make the jump.

"We can make it. Do you trust me?" She asks, needing the constant reassurance.

"Y-yeah," he confirms, feeling guilty for his defeatist attitude. Taking a few steps back, he expels a deep breath before sprinting forward. His leap is impressive, but far short of the goal. Already descending at the halfway mark, he hears Mai call out to him. Her hand latches onto his, and he swings back upward, sailing all the way to the platform in front of the door with ease. The deteriorating structure is overgrown with moss and vines, their fuzzy, navy-blue color profoundly odd. Rift notes that many of the plants seem hazardous to the touch as he approaches the large entrance. Stopping for a moment, he ponders how he will open such a heavy door, the wooden monstrosity obviously taxing its rusted iron hinges. Refusing to question Mai's resolve, he marches up to the obstacle, bracing himself to push. "On three?" She asks, delighted he is finally catching on. A solemn nod shows his agreement, and on the third count, two arms appear next to Rift, Mai's hands upon the door as she adds her strength. The old door grinds open slowly, and a dim light is cast into the bleak setting.

A disabling stench climbs through the open door, and Rift's eyes must adjust to the flicker of blue fire along the torch-lit walls. The main foyer leads to a pair of curved stairwells ascending to the second floor. A formerly red rug covers most of the stone floor, stained blue just like the walls and ceiling. Plant life has ravaged the interior as well as the exterior, several trees even managing to sprout up through the large cracks in the floor. Several hallways branch off from the main room, the entire building beginning to look like a maze. Already disoriented, Rift pulls his hood back over his head vacantly while his eyes wander throughout the room.

"Where is the armor?" He asks, praying Mai can lead him directly to it.

"Sorry, but I don't know. This place hasn't aged well," she admits, taking in the surroundings as well.

"Well," he starts, not realizing just how needy he's beginning to sound. "Where should I start?"

"We'll just have to start checking everywhere, but if you get lost just ask me where we've been. I have a really good memory," she points out with an air of pride. Deciding to simply move forward, Rift advances to the door between the dual staircases. Expecting to walk right in, he is frustrated when the iron handle to the old door doesn't budge. "We'll need a key. It must be nearby," Mai reveals, trying to help keep Rift determined. "Let's try a different room." Rift lets the minor setback go without succumbing to frustration, and jogs around the stairs to a hallway leading out of the room. The sound of rushing water grabs his attention as he draws closer to the entrance. Blasting up through the corner in a frothy torrent, murky water is invading the slanted room, only to drain out through a large hole on the opposite side. Nonchalantly stepping through the doorframe, Rift's heart stops when Mai suddenly shouts, "Down!" Managing to react in time, Rift feels a hot, juicy substance splatter onto his back as he rolls forward. Spinning around, he finds a Deku Baba recoiling from the failed attack. Growing out of the wall above the doorway, it would certainly have claimed the life of anyone passing through without Mai's warning. "Sorry about that, I didn't see it until the last second," she admits, sounding flustered herself.

"It's okay, you saved me again," Rift conveys, getting back to his feet.

"Oh stop it," Mai laughs, sounding embarrassed by the flattery. "We're a team now, remember?"

"Right," he nods, smiling slightly. Scouring the room for anything useful, he traces a weave of roots next to the spout of water leading upward, and ending at a loft with some sort of box upon it. Wading through the mucky, green water, he quickly climbs the vines and finds a small chest resting at the top. Wasting no time, he pushes the lid upward, letting it fall back upon its hinges. Inside rests a small, silver key, which Rift snatches out with excitement. "That was easy," he grins, proceeding back down the ladder of roots.

"Sure was," Mai agrees, "at this rate I'll be slowing you down soon," she satirically implies.

"I don't know about that," he laughs, moving past the green fountain. Though he doesn't fully realize it, he's growing to like Mai. It's hard to curse your fortune when the one person you're sacredly fused with, is the one person who enjoys your company. Gradual as it may be, his obligation to help her is transforming into a willful adventure. Without missing a beat, Rift strolls right up the leafy predator, patiently waiting for him to try and exit.

"Right!" Mai shouts as the snarling plant lunges to Rift's left. Dodging the attack with ease, Rift is back in the main room in no time. Triumphantly opening the lock, he is confused when the key dissolves in his hand.

"What?" He mumbles to himself as the opening door reveals stairs leading downward.

"I guess we can only use the keys once," she shrugs without a hint of disappointment. "At least the door is open now." With a perplexed shrug of his own, Rift confidently moves down the staircase of the narrow hallway. At the bottom is a small room with a floor of mud and moss. Every step becomes stuck momentarily as he walks into the room, the act of removing his feet producing a slurping sound. Sickened by the sticky substance crawling over his sandals and between his toes, Rift pushes forward without voicing his disapproval. A single lamp hangs from the ceiling, the flickering fire emitting a purplish glow. A third of the way across, Rift realizes the floor is littered with bones, a large skull resting half submerged in the mud near the exit. A sudden clattering sound between his own suction noises causes him to freeze in place. Searching for the source, he is horrified to see the bones slowly rolling into each other, pulled together by some unseen force. Reminded of the Stalchildren, he can't seem to find the will to move as he watches an arm begin to take shape.

"Left!" Mai suddenly screams. Pulling his right leg out of the mud, Rift shifts left, the tip of a large spear nearly grazing his torso. A large skeleton recoils the savage attack, taking a difficult step forward to attempt another. Apparently some sort of undead guardian, its bony chest is covered by ancient armor. Rift's sandals slurp up out of the ground as he attempts to back away in a panic. Turning his attention to the door, he sees the other skeleton is nearly complete as well. The legless ghoul straining to reach its spear lying nearby. Able to move faster than his fleshless antagonists, Rift manages to reach the stairs, sprinting up and out of the room. Emerging into an oddly shaped area with a low ceiling, Rift continues forward, not wanting to give the Stalfos a chance to catch up. "Look!" Mai exclaims, grabbing his attention. Ahead, the room widens onto a platform, and is illuminated by a large hole in the ceiling. A shallow pool of green water further ahead is littered with overgrown plant life, and at the center, a small island of rock holds a large wooden chest. "That must be it!"

Jogging around the debris of the awkward room, Rift crosses the platform and manages to vault over the length of water, landing next to the chest upon the island of smooth stone. Becoming excited himself, he must exert much more effort to throw the lid of this chest back, but the brief struggle is promptly rewarded. A pair of dark, faded gauntlets rest at the bottom of the wooden box. Reaching in and grabbing them, Rift can't help but feel disappointed by the meager amount of protection they will offer. The length of the forearm, as well as the back of the hand is protected with dark, metal plates, the glove at the end only covering his fingers to the second knuckle. Tossing his temporary glove aside and pulling the arm guards on, they fit surprisingly well, stopping just past his elbow. Feeling significantly tougher, though he possesses no fighting skills, Rift throws an awkward punch to show off the gear.

"Looking good!" Mai encourages, instantly causing Rift to blush. Without warning, the entire temple jumps downward, a huge wave of water pouring into the room through the large hole in the ceiling. With gravity consistently pulling upward, Rift becomes certain the structure is sinking. "I think that's our cue," Mai nervously jokes, her companion quickly deciding to make a run for the exit.

## Bid for Power:

### My Vengeance Grows like Ebony

A harsh, consistent wind pushes against the Gerudo's form, though the force and scraping grains of sand are hardly registered. The midmorning sun casts a long shadow along the migrating dunes of sand. His ripped cloak billows violently until he finally passes through the gates of his fortress, relocated much deeper in a mountainous ravine to avoid pursuing forces of the crown. Loyal guards push the massive doors shut, and the relentless wind is kept at bay. His stride is purposeful, yet lacks the air of accomplishment his people had hoped to see. Whispers dance overhead, the population of thieves making no effort to draw attention, but remaining interested all the same. Dangling from the man's clinched fist, the mythical helm he thought would lead him to his infinite power. Now it serves as little more than a reminder of his failure. Navigating the short staircases of the multilayered maze of a fortress, he makes his way to the throne room. Unlit torches rattle in their metal fixtures, the wind whipping over the high exterior walls of the structure, endlessly pushing against the thick stone of the square architecture. Ascending the final staircase, the man makes no attempt to acknowledge the pair of guards positioned on either side of the door leading into the featureless, grey block of a building. Lowering their spears, the women mumble a greeting as the expressionless man passes by. Painful as it may be, he has returned without glory.

The grey, inconspicuously drab design of the large throne room exterior does nothing to advertise the lavish interior. Rugs and drapes of vibrant red decorate the room, full of only the most attractive Gerudo women. Lazily dowsing along the path to the throne, the scarcely dressed women greet their king with tired smiles as they continue to lounge comfortably. Grapes and oranges acquired by scouts are casually dined upon while the king of thieves angrily tosses his helm to the floor, then sits on his iron throne uncomfortably. Leaning forward, he stares at the golden blight upon his hand, incomplete once again. Scouring his mind, he cannot understand what went wrong. How the balance of elements was knocked askew. The power had fused with his soul completely, and he wielded it with little difficulty, but some unknown factor tore his entire plan to pieces. Deep in thought, he doesn't notice his mistress emerge from the bedroom behind the throne. Wearing the finest silk, her outfit only differs from the plethora of women in the room in that it is slightly more respectable. Her calloused fingers rub against his tense neck, before she begins to remove his armor.

"What good are you," she bellows at the women lying throughout the room. "Your king returns and you lie about?" Quickly finding their feet, several of the women proceed toward the throne, eager to please their king. Waving a dismissive hand, Ganondorf expresses his disapproval.

"Not tonight, Aveil. I'm of a mood," he grumbles, slapping his mistress' hand away to angrily remove his armor himself. Tossing his cloak aside, he pulls off his heavy chest piece, throwing it to the ground as well. Generally startled, the multitude of women awkwardly stand about before returning to their beds and trays of fruit.

"Clearly," Aveil sighs, rolling her eyes and collecting the cloak. "You are injured?" She gasps with widening eyes, noting the large slash through the center of the cloth.

"It's nothing," he grunts, obviously not enjoying the conversation.

"Very well," she absently responds through narrow eyes. "I will dress your wounds when you fancy the notion." With that, she leaves the room, failing to catch her king's eye despite her alluring mannerisms. An uncomfortable silence hangs over everyone's head as Ganondorf continues to ponder the meaning of the recently transpired events. He possesses the Triforce of Power once again. Though he is uncertain what he will do with its strength, he knows he will not repeat the same mistakes. Sensing the mood in the room, one of his favorite girls shyly approaches, hoping to put minds at ease.

"Is there nothing I could do to pull your mind from troubling thoughts?" She asks, attempting to sound sensual, but ultimately sounding extremely nervous.

"Take hold of your tongue and evade my gaze," he promptly retorts, painting the girl white with fear. Meekly backing away, she thoroughly regrets her decision to speak out before a slightly kinder voice sounds from the throne. "Know that I am frustrated with failure. I harbor no hatred for any of you."

"We do," Aveil interrupts, returning to his side. "I would like to know the fate of those who would interfere with my king's ambition."

"It is of little consequence now," he sighs, dismissing the thought. "My treasure was divided once again. The fused shadow was not enough to keep it intact," he reveals, shooting the dark helm a disapproving gaze.

"If it is not enough, then what possibly could be?" She asks, plunging into thought herself.

"I know not," he mumbles, his eyes locking onto his hand once again. Moving closer, Aveil places a loving hand on his shoulder.

"What will we do now?"

"Something to be determined another day," he nods, scooping a hand around her waist playfully. Breathing an amused giggle in his embrace, she fails to notice someone has entered the room.

"I beg pardon for my intrusion," a young woman insists, her immaturity masked well in her confidence. Taking a knee and bowing her head, she is clearly loyal, but her appearance without being summoned is something strictly forbidden. Shockingly unique in her appearance, her skin is noticeably lighter than the other women. Stranger still, her tightly braided hair, fashioned into an off-center disc at the rear of her scalp, is a vivid blonde. An oddball amongst the Gerudo women, she wears tightly fitting grey pants as well as an unremarkable grey brassiere unintentionally showing off her athletic form. Attached to her thighs and waist are a multitude of throwing knives, and upon her forehead rests a black jewel. Climbing off of her king's tired form, Aveil is forced to take a more diplomatic stance to the side now that a warrior is addressing the throne. "I would only ask the yield of your mission," she declares, hoping for a clear and rapid answer.

"He will address the ranks at his leisure," Aveil sternly interjects, appalled by the girl's brazen request. Raising a hand for silence, Ganondorf leans forward in his seat with an understanding grimace.

"Less, is it?" He gruffly asks.

"Yes, my king."

"I understand you're one of my finest scouts, but know this, disrespect of any magnitude will not be tolerated. The mission was unsuccessful. I give you leave to inform the others," he declares, turning his gaze back to Aveil.

"And what of my sister, Moora?" Less inquires, remaining still as a statue on her knee.

"You press far beyond your position!" Aveil shouts, fed up with the girl's continued defiance. Rising from his throne, the king of thieves slowly marches over to the girl's position.

"Rise," he commands, eclipsing her in shadow beneath his massive frame. Promptly standing, her posture can only be described as fearless. Her yellow eyes stare emotionlessly into his, betraying no secrets or intentions.

"None returned but your king," he conveys, lightly taking hold of her chin. "Moora fought well, but fell to the damnable Sheikah," he reveals, gauging her response. An almost imperceptible twitch would have gone unnoticed if they weren't standing face to face, the young woman's emotions betraying her for the briefest of instances. "I know those eyes well. They are eyes burning with vengeance. Let this violence drive your training, and your day of reckoning will come soon enough," he concludes, staring into her eyes a moment longer. He knows the eyes of vengeance well, but hatred isn't the only thing familiar about them. Fatigue begins to overshadow him like an approaching wave, and he leaves the girl where she stands for his bed. Aveil shoots her one last threatening glance before retiring as well. The dazzling chandelier grows dim as a desert wind pushes through the open doors of the room. Something in the corner of her eye, an object begging to be noticed tilts her head gingerly, and Less spots the discarded entity of dark power. A single tear caresses her cheek as thoughts of her sister quickly overtake her usual cold, calculating logic. A clenched fist tightens as she decides her vengeance becomes certain upon acquiring the relic.

## Guiding Light:

### Distant Dreams and Simple Shadows

Hyrule field glows with an aura of possibility in the midmorning sun. She played out the goodbyes in her head long before they could occur. He would insist he go with her. She would refuse. He would offer her a ride to the castle gates at least. Again, she would prove stubborn. Finally, he would depart for Ordon to the south with a reluctance she admired. Sharing a brief kiss, the young man in green is atop his trusty steed and galloping into the distance with a rugged grace moments later. She could not make such a scene upon entering Castle Town. The people would resent her escapades while they are left to suffer through the drought and failing economy. An ancient incantation is murmured in her mind, summoning a whirlwind of light, engulfing her form entirely. Once the spell has subsided, the gorgeous young princess has been replaced by a formless beggar wearing an inconspicuous, brown cowl. Her sky blue eyes drift past the massive plains and fix upon the castle, overlooking the heartland of the kingdom. Her instincts plead for her to visit Kakariko Village, but necessity dictates she return home first. Setting a brisk pace, she departs the tree-shrouded entrance of the forest, finding the dirt path stretching across the mammoth field toward the castle.

Morning has faded into afternoon when she finally sets foot on the wooden drawbridge. The lone sentry eyes her suspiciously as she advances into town. A large gathering in the market square grabs her attention, the noisy group bantering angrily around the guard captain. Malune, leader of the castle guard for several years, seems to be in over his head dealing with the rabble. Her father had taken a liking to him many years ago, despite his youth and inexperience. He is a handsome young man who was always eager to assist in any manner of calamity involving the town, even as a boy. Now he is failing to keep the peace with his overworked, skeleton crew of a squadron. Drawing closer to the group, concaved around the fountain featuring a sculpture of a familiar hero, the princess keeps a low profile while listening in.

"Please, listen to me!" Malune shouts, attempting to throw a hush over the crowd. "The city gate must be closed at night. There can be no exceptions."

"Tell that to my little Ona!" An older woman screams, choked with emotion.

"She shouldn't have been outside!" Another man shouts.

"Everyone, please calm down!" Malune calls, failing to suppress the banter.

"Excuse me, what happened here?" The disguised princess asks, tapping an old man on the shoulder. Turning to face her with some difficulty, he adjusts his balance on his cane before answering.

"A few kids were out playing in the field late yesterday," he explains, a sad expression pulling at his face. "Stalchildren took them. Those poor souls."

"That's awful," she gasps, glancing to Malune, then back to the old man. "How can you be sure, though? They may have gone to Kakariko."

"Afraid not," the man sighs, shaking his head at the welcome alternative. "Young Rho was the only one to return. He told us what had happened. Poor chap will probably never be the same."

"I'm so sorry," she responds without thinking.

"Whatever for my dear?"

"I-I must go. Excuse me," she quickly stammers, departing the square for the castle. It seems the tragedies will never cease, and Zelda cannot help but feel partially responsible. Her obligations lie with her people, yet she is drawn far beyond the castle gates far more often than she should, her soul longing to be at Link's side. It has always been an impossible love, but fate has interwoven their paths too many times for her to dismiss the notion as coincidence any longer. Their journey is meant to be taken together, regardless of century old law, and outdated tradition. Still, Hyrule must embrace some degree of peace and stability before the prospect of defying age-old custom is even considered.

Grabbing hold of a batch of overgrown vines just south of the castle checkpoint, the princess displays her unrivaled agility to no one, ascending over the tall ridge more easily than most able-bodied men. The mighty iron gate barring the beaten path to the castle walls standing far below her, the short trek up the ridge and over the top of the gate proves entirely too innocuous for a supposedly well-guarded castle. The single guard below remains ignorant to her infiltration as she crosses atop the gate, moving through the formerly beautiful castle grounds. The drought has sucked the grass dry, the plethora of flowers suffering the same fate. The watchful eyes of the pair of soldiers guarding the large castle doors haven't a chance of spotting the highly trained princess, vaulting past the moat and entering the castle through a secret passageway.

Zelda finds herself in the kitchen, empty for the time being as the king prefers his lunch in the late afternoon. Rows of preparation tables line the center of the room, the large, cast iron pot resting coldly over the extinguished fire. The pleasant smells of stored meat and vegetables, lining the walls in large barrels, beckon her unfulfilled stomach, but she continues on nonetheless. Halfway up the stairs leading to the throne room, another sacred incantation is murmured, and another influx of light engulfs her. The gorgeous princess of Hyrule enters the throne room casually, only to find the king nowhere in sight. Momentarily confused, she immediately ceases her refined movements, utilizing more instinctual mannerisms to search for her father. A princess must radiate grace and poise, but her hiatus with Impa forever detached these gestures from her subconscious. Hiking up her lavish dress, she marches up the spiraling staircase to the king's chambers, high above the main floor. A single sentry posted at the door bows with loyalty as the princess knocks three times, promptly opening the large door before a reply can be uttered. King Harkinian, ruler of all Hyrule, stands slumped over the balcony at the far side of the room. Breathing an empathetic sigh, Zelda crosses the room and joins him.

"Hello, father," she greets, lovingly embracing his arm.

"Where have you been?" He quickly retorts.

"What do you mean?" She asks, playing dumb even though the king has grown immune to her overused tactics.

"This is no time to be coy," he grumbles, freeing his arm from her grasp and marching back into the room. "You've heard the news, I pray."

"Of course," she nods, following him apprehensively. "The Stalchildren took a group of kids last night. How on earth did they get past the guard at such a late hour?"

"Please," the king sighs, palming his brow. "The soldiers sleep no more than few hours before returning to their posts. We haven't the numbers to efficiently patrol."

"Perhaps you'd have sufficient resources if you hadn't sent our army abroad," the princess quickly interjects.

"Don't start," the king scolds with tired eyes. "It was the right decision. Reports from the front are promising. Arcadia has landed on the coast, but multiple sieges have failed. It is only a matter of time before their resources run dry and they are forced back to sea."

"How long do you wager before our resources run dry?" The princess retorts sourly. "The children run rampant because they are starved. Their fathers gone for months," she insists, always eager to challenge the king's decision to aid his cousin in what should have been Hyrule's period of recovery.

"Enough," he bellows, clearly growing agitated. A coughing fit quickly crumbles his imposing form, and for an instant, Zelda ceases to see her steadfast father, and instead recognizes the tired old man he's become. "If you want your opinion considered, then make your presence known when the decisions are made. Your people need the charm of their princess, but when disaster strikes, she is always absent," he points out, stifling another cough.

"Politics are the obligations of kings. If you would take your daughter's prior council to heart, there would be no need of my presence."

"Who is to rule when I am for the afterlife?" The king pleads, attempting to turn the argument into a meaningful discussion.

"You've seen Malune fit to run the town," Zelda sighs, knowing he is far from eligible king material.

"Malune is but a boy," he sighs, weary with stress. "He has a good heart, but he is not fit to rule," he points out, taking Zelda's hand in his own. "My daughter, you are the only one who can carry on our bloodline, less the kingdom fall into another civil war."

"We often face threats far more taxing than drought and petty quarrel," she meekly insists.

"And you must learn to leave them in the trusted hands of others. The days of childish antics have passed. You're a grown woman now. It's high time you started acting accordingly."

"I am not the queen!" She immediately bellows, the flair of anger familiar to her father. "I make my own path. My fate is not dictated by my name."

"It is," Harkinian corrects with sad eyes. "This is our way, and you must learn your place in this family," he nods, too tired to use a stern voice or wear an imposing face. "You will govern your people with the honor of your ancestors. They sacrificed—"

"Do not speak to me of sacrifice," Zelda sharply interrupts. "I will do as my conscience guides me! Your traditions have led us to ruin," she concludes, marching toward the door.

"My patience has fled me, and your childish delusions embrace the very ruin you speak of!" The king shouts as the princess throws the doors open, storming away from her ignorant father. He must never know of her perilous travels, or the necessity they possess. Her trials and tribulations are comically sneered at, dismissed as childish excursions of a listless princess. However, the alternative is worse still, and her father would undoubtedly have her confined to the castle should he learn of the danger his daughter places herself in habitually. Wiping a velvet-gloved finger across her watering eyes, Zelda returns to the kitchen just before the cooks and servants reach the doors. He will never understand what she's been through. The years in hiding with her nursemaid were life altering. Sleepless nights in that cold cavern, never knowing if the Gerudo thieves would descend upon her unexpectedly. Though the experiences were undone when Link returned the Master Sword, the memories of their struggles and hardships remain to this day. Slipping through the secret passageway behind the old wooden cupboard, the princess is outside the castle walls once again. Her burdens weighing heavily on her mind, she cannot be confined to her room tonight. Prim and proper as she may be capable of acting, she has a need for freedom, an insistent itch for open spaces, rich with opportunity.

Wandering through the courtyard, she quickly loses track of time, lost in her own thoughts. Nayru's wisdom has returned to her, and with it, fragmented visions she cannot yet understand. Ganondorf may have reclaimed the Triforce of power, but he was denied his true objective. Now Nayru offers what guidance she can, the princess's mind assaulted with blurry memories and fragmented truths. Her recurring daydream is dark and quiet. A shadowy figure is reaching out for her. Whether he is asking for her help or daring her soul to approach is unclear. He is incomplete, and his features seem to shift upon the dark pallet of his form. She feels an inexplicable urge to reach out to him, despite his probable evil intentions. Still, something about him is strange, as if his actions are somehow not his own. His effects do not reflect his cause. The vision grows increasingly intense and the princess suddenly snaps out of her trance to find it has grown dark. An irritating cicada chirps at the fading light of early evening, the stone architecture of the elaborate courtyard seeming to shimmer in the growing moonlight. Regaining her senses, Zelda decides to slip away from the security of the castle grounds, reverting to her dark cloak to avoid attention.

Kakariko Village has endured many hardships, but it remains one of the few beacons of hope for the recovering people. Overrun with the ruthless Bulbins only months ago, the village has been restored to its simple kind of peace. Once the king of thieves had been slain, Link refused to rest before heroically driving the savages back to the Bridge of Eldin for good. The shoddy collection of houses seem surreal to the princess, resting on the uneven town levels. The flicker of candlelight dances in nearby windows as Zelda dips through the shadows, rounding corners and settling beside the old windmill overlooking the houses atop a small hill. A weak wind crawls through the mild night air, and the princess skates along the grass, silent as the wind itself, dropping into the deep well at the village's center.

Her billowing cloak vanishes in a whirl of light, allowing her to land as soundlessly as a fresh leaf in a still pond. The bottom of the well is an unpleasant sight, the distorted brick walls and dirty paths leading outward in a maze of darkness. The haunting glow of moonlight radiates in the fine mist the grimy stones have produced. Already, she can sense a presence approaching, skillful and thorough as its stealthy antics may be. Quickly moving through the twisting halls, Zelda has returned to her masked alter ego of the extinct ninja clan. A dim glow surfaces upon turning a corner, a torch, freshly lit but barely burning. Below the mounted stick of flame, an inconspicuous wall, identical to every other in this unwelcoming setting. Pausing thoughtfully before entering the small amount of light, Sheik gazes at the uneven stones, their shadows growing and shrinking in the torchlight.

"Very good, Ashei," she calls, her soft-spoken words echoing through the dark halls. "But your breathing gives you away. You must retain control of yourself before you can control your surroundings."

"You sound just like her," a woman sighs, emerging from the darkness. Wearing a similar blue jumpsuit with the Sheikah symbol upon the white chest, she displays masculine behaviors, proceeding toward the torch casually. Peeking from beneath her cowl, her dark blue bangs appear black in the low lighting. "I'll get you next time, yeah?"

"You just might," Zelda smiles, matching her stride and offering an assuring pat on the shoulder. The illusion of the solid brick wall is well known to them, and the two women pass through the mirage like a veil of weightless silk. The large room beyond the artifice is well lit, the circular training ground lined with blazing torches. An array of practice grounds litters the multistoried area including tests of balance, target ranges, swordplay dummies, and endurance challenges. High above the assorted facilities, an old woman meditates among a sea of candles. Her stout face seems to be concentrating intently beneath her massive ponytail of white hair. Stopping at the center of the room, Ashei watches with amusement as Sheik closes her eyes to concentrate.

"Linu is behind the gossip stone, Boam is above the door," she announces, pausing to concentrate harder. "Sanzu is excelling, but I can feel you behind the scarecrow," she points out with a smile.

"Feel me?" Sanzu asks unbelievingly, strolling out from behind the scarecrow. "I fail to take your meaning." Slightly smaller than the other two women, Sanzu's curious eyes are partially concealed behind her long, black bangs, dangling on each side of her cheeks all the way down to her chest.

"It's the final level of stealth," Sheik reveals, glancing up to the old woman. Remaining impossibly still, her full lips hint at a smile, but ultimately do not move. "It is your chi. The essence you emit into the universe. It is the most difficult aspect to conceal. The very essence of your existence will compromise your position if you cannot control your aura."

"That's intense," Boam chuckles, dropping to the floor. Despite his large, muscular frame, his actions are surprisingly silent. Approaching the growing group, he glances at the scarecrow, impaled with a strait blade.

"Did I at least get my breathing right this time?" Linu asks, an immature whine failing to be removed from his voice.

"Close, but you're trying too hard," Sheik reveals, gesturing with her hands. "Remember, you are not inhaling and exhaling, you're merely a vessel through which air may travel." Nodding with understanding, the young boy brushes a hand through his short blonde hair nervously. Her disciples are improving, but even so she worries it is not quickly enough. The legendary Sheikah race has become little more than a memory. A fairy tale for imaginative children. The sworn protectors of the royal family have executed their duty without fail, but just as the royal family itself shrinks, so too has the Sheikah race. Nimbly ascending the room's levels, Sheik lands before the old woman, bowing respectfully before beginning the dialogue. "I regret that my visit is not one of simple purpose, but I must seek your council."

"You flatter me with formality my dear," the woman laughs, pulled from her trance with little reservation. "Surely that young man has come around by now. Still resisting your charms is he?"

"I'm serious," she sighs, blushing slightly. A glare over her shoulder promptly returns the gawking group below to their training. "The king of thieves has returned."

"Impossible," she states flatly.

"Is it?" She retorts, raising an eyebrow.

"I fear it must not be. I have felt a darkness weaving into the winds from the west. Will the damned Gerudo never learn?"

"I fear for the worst, Impa. He has shattered the Triforce once again," she reveals, raising her hand to display the glowing triangle.

"This is an ill omen. This kingdom cannot withstand another blight of darkness," she sighs, a tired expression stealing over her face.

"I know. I'm afraid their training thus far will have to suffice. I must employ every resource to ensure the tranquility of the realm."

"They are not ready," Impa mutters, shaking her head with disapproval.

"They are not Sheikah," she promptly corrects. "But they are capable. Besides, they're all we've got now." A brief silence ensues, and Impa considers the information carefully before responding.

"The piercing ceremony must come first," she insists, reflecting on the timeframe they have to work with. "It's unsettling to think," she pauses, briefly reflecting on her years. "I haven't pierced an ear since your young hero proved himself worthy."

"He wears it to this day," Zelda nods with a fond smile.

"Alright," Impa starts, obviously uncomfortable with the thought of sending such undisciplined pupils out into the world. "What do you have in mind?"

## Hylian Hero:

### A Peace that's Seldom Lasting

An energetic Epona spiritedly nudges Link's back as he dismounts in Ordon Village. More irritated than affectionate, he gives her a loving pat on the head just the same before proceeding to his house. The village is a modest example of southern life in Hyrule. The rolling hills serve well for ranching, the grassy earth surviving the drought thus far. Large packs of goats migrate through the fenced-in fields, grazing lazily. The houses utilize a cabin-style construction with thick patches of hay serving for roofing. Pulling open the door to his small shack, Link isn't surprised to find Ilia waiting. The mayor's daughter has grown into an attractive woman, though her short, dishwater-blonde hair and sleeveless shirt are a bit tomboyish. Friends for many years, Link grew up with Ilia after his heroic adventure through time itself. The master sword was returned from whence it came, and Link regained his lost childhood. Ganondorf's thwarted usurping of the throne granted Link a second chance at life, his stolen childhood returned at the cost of the space now forced between himself and his love. The princess convinced him to distance himself from Castle Town. The royal family remains plagued by tradition, even more so once the prophecy was fulfilled, and the daughter of a king cannot associate so with a commoner of any status. Kokiri Village was out of the question. Link is not one of them, and even after his lost fairy returned, he could not continue to live amongst the ageless children. Ordon Village was a growing nexus of agriculture and the mayor couldn't have been happier to welcome another able bodied boy willing to earn his stay. It has been his home for many years since.

"You kept me waiting," Ilia sighs, setting her knitting aside as Link strolls through the door.

"I think I'll wait outside," Navi awkwardly interjects, drifting toward the door.

"Park it fairy," Ilia warns, her tone that of a wronged housewife. "I bet you put him up to it."

"Hey, it had to be done. Heroes don't get vacations," Navi points out, floating near Link's head.

"I can't do this," Ilia mumbles, shaking her head. "I can't keep waiting for you. Never knowing if you're even coming home." A sad look steals over Link's face, knowing she is right. He could be killed, or worse yet, sent through time once again. Ilia has wanted for nothing but a normal life, but her best friend has grown distant from her through his endless obligations. First, a missed birthday. Then, a forgotten date. Always to meet with his forbidden love, scouting a potential threat or quelling a bandit nuisance.

"Someone has got to step up when evil strikes again," Navi shrugs, apathetic toward Ilia's emotions.

"Was she there?" Ilia asks, her face turning stern. A suffocating silence is all the confirmation she needs. "She was," she sighs, her eyes dropping to the floor. With no words to offer, Link watches her pathetically, physically exhausted from his brutal fight to save the realm once again. No peace, and certainly no hero's welcome waiting for his deserving spirit. In time he has learned fighting in secret has its advantages, but gradually it has become more and more of a burden on his day to day life.

"Do you know what he went through last night?" Navi chirps, trying to turn the tables. "Get off his back already."

"Fine," Ilia states flatly, starting toward the door. "You won't ever find a princess waiting here all night for you. Just me," she concludes, slamming the door as she exits. A brief grunt followed by a long sigh is all Link can utter, his outstretched arm finding nothing but the vibrating door. He doesn't need this. Not now. Ganondorf has returned with a vengeance, and the hero of time can't even manage a brief rest without receiving a bucketful of stress. Painfully pulling off his cumbersome shield, his wounds produce a loud hiss through his teeth with the effort. The only thing he needs right now is sleep. Dropping onto his bed, a powerful drowsiness overwhelms his mind and muscles. Ganondorf's evil eyes flash through his mind, then Zelda's lips, sweet as nectar upon his, though he quickly stifles the thought. She is royalty and he is a commoner. He finds himself having to repeat the fact all too often lately. Such thoughts only prove to infect the heart with sadness in the end. For whatever reason, Saria's song and thoughts of the forest drift through his head as he falls asleep.

"Sweet dreams," Navi whispers, swirling around above his bed as she watches him thoughtfully. Link opens his eyes and finds himself in the forest. He is a young boy once again. The Lost Woods are as familiar as the back of his hand, but he has journeyed much deeper than ever before. Searching for days, Navi is still nowhere to be found. Suddenly, Epona bucks him off of her back, spooked by some unseen presence. Before he can climb to his feet, Link spots the heart-shaped mask, drifting toward him and filling him with dread. The large eyes and colorful spikes protruding out the sides bear down upon him just as the earth below opens up to swallow him. Falling into the dark abyss, his stomach lurches, jolting him awake. The sun has already begun its descent into the west as Link's nap continued much longer than he'd planned.

"Finally," Navi exclaims, bobbing about his bed. "You are impossible to wake up, you know that?" Feeling groggy, he holds his head for the moment before climbing to his feet. The recurring nightmare has tormented him for years. Termina, Clock Town, the falling moon, and Majora's Mask plague his subconscious like a cancer. Navi had stumbled upon him lying unconscious in the forest, but even she couldn't tell him how he got there. The entire experience was far too real to have been a dream, but still, not a single shred of evidence exists to prove he ever ventured to Termina. Navi left him when he told the princess of Ganondorf's plot, returning to the forest feeling depressed and useless once their adventure together had ended. She has always held a bitter remorse for the princess, and more importantly, her effect on Link. Eventually, touched by his efforts to find her, Navi has returned to his side and has remained ever since. With his empty scabbard and heavy shield resting upon his back once again, Link exits his house with determination. Ordon has been the least affected of the provinces since the drought took hold of the kingdom. The children play along the paths near the mill, the creek continuing to produce a meager amount of water. Scanning the area for his horse, Link spots young Colin jogging over to greet him.

"Link! You're back," Colin shouts, giving Link a slug in the shoulder. Having grown into a young man, Colin has matured beyond his timid ways. Utilizing Link as a role model, he has sworn to protect his younger sister from harm. "Ilia looked pretty cross. What'd you do this time?" Shaking his head dismissively, Link decides he'd rather pass on the subject.

"Where's your sister?" Navi asks, dancing through the open air.

"Right there by the," he starts, his jaw dropping open upon locating her. "Oh no! Uliana!" He shouts, sprinting back toward the mill. Always a handful, young Uliana is attempting to grab hold of the wheel attached to the mill and ride the rotating contraption like a carnival ride. With a gleeful smirk, Link turns to leave while Colin is distracted. It doesn't suit the Hylian man the same way it might have suited the adolescent. The life of a hero. The insistent attention from every passing soul, praising his actions and sacrifices. He never chose this life, it chose him. Running Ganondorf through with his sword etched his name into Hyrule's history. The king demanded a celebration once the land had recovered. A statue of the slayer of evil was erected in the center of Castle Town to commemorate the grandiose occasion. Poems were written and songs were sung as Hyrule finally saw a prosperous day dawn on its citizens. All of the clamor and special treatment only served to remind Link why he moved so far south. Simple people of simple means who respect his privacy every bit as much as they respect the man himself. Guiding Epona past the stables and toward his house, Ilia seems to have cooled off since this morning.

"We don't have time for another lecture," Navi groans. Shooting her an angry glance, Link manages to silence the fairy for now. Having grown all too comfortable answering for him, Navi often fails to accurately capture his mood.

"I'm not here to argue. Epona needed to be brushed is all. She's ready to go," she explains, handing the reins to Link. Accepting them graciously, Link suddenly feels uncomfortable leaving things as they are. "Colin sure has grown up," she points out as they turn to watch him pluck Uliana off the wooden wheel. Attempting to scold her, he has to chase her down once again as she quickly scampers away. "At least he knows how to take care of his family. Rusl answered the call to arms for the Gamelon front and took Talo with him," she reveals, grabbing a shocked expression from Link. Certain Rusl would go, he never dreamed young Talo would tag along. "I know, he's young, but he's better with a sword than half the guard. I think he'll be fine." A slow wind glides through the area, the trees rustling lazily as the sun continues to set. The village has a stifling sense of nostalgia that Link has grown to find slightly more unsettling than pleasant. Glancing back to Ilia, Link notes her thoughtful expression as she stares into the distance.

"We better get going before the sun sets," Navi points out, already floating away from the town to hurry Link along. Though her insufferable antics never fail to intensify when he is near another woman, Link knows she is right. With an apologetic face, he turns back to Ilia.

"It's alright," she shrugs, touching his arm and tracing her fingers down to his hand. Grabbing hold of his shabby, leather glove she squeezes it between her hands before looking Link in the eyes. "Time never stands still, Link. We need you here. My dad's getting too old to manage the goats anymore. He asked me to convince you to stay, but I know you won't," she breathes as her watering eyes fill to the brim. "So I'll just ask this," she starts, touching a hand to his cheek. "Don't forget about us." With that, she releases his hand and quickly retreats to her home. Feeling increasingly guilty, Link presses his forehead against Epona's while he considers Ilia's words. Though it is so much more than most men could dream of, the life of a rancher holds no appeal to him. Working through the days, settling down with a lovely wife, and having kids. To want for more is a fool's endeavor.

"Link! Come on! Daylight's burning," Navi calls, circling the path exiting through the trees. With an irritated sigh, Link climbs into the saddle and quickly gallops away from the village. The sun has all but set as he charges past Lake Hylia to the west. The repetitive sound of hooves meeting dirt coupled with the fresh wind pressing against his face grants Link a needed reprieve from his thoughts. Responsibility and obligations have plagued him since childhood, but out here in the open he feels a sense of freedom from the restraints pulling him in every direction. Zelda will know what to do. Now that he has much more than a petty excuse to see her, his stress begins to lessen, and his sense of morality relents for the time being. A chill runs down his spine as he suddenly can't shake the feeling he is being watched.

"What is this?" Navi asks. Suddenly on edge as well, Epona's gallop slows significantly. Though it is impossible, Link recognizes the feeling well. It is the aura of a thirst for blood. A sensation limited to his dreams, until now.

## The Empty Handed:

### Some Open Hands are Fleeting

The pale, green water pours over the lip of the tilted wall like a capsizing ship. The once-level room takes on a noticeable slant as the oncoming water shifts the balance of the floating temple. Moving up the short staircase to the platform leading out of the room, Rift's full on sprint is cut short when the Stalfos march into the room with ill intent. Quickly moving into an attack formation, the pair of skeletal warriors begin to circle the boy, revealing they are not mindless drones, but capable fighters. With the water level quickly rising toward them all, it becomes obvious he has no choice but to fight.

"We can take them now," Mai declares with a stoic determination. Unable to feel a fraction as confident, Rift takes an awkward battle pose just the same. Wasting no time, the first warrior charges forward, its bones and armor clattering while sheading the filth they were recently buried in. Rearing its spear back for a powerful thrust, Rift sees no opportunity to escape. "Left!" Mai demands, her passionate tone while issuing the single word instructions spurring at Rift's insistent indecision. Ducking left, the spear hits nothing but air, lingering over Rift's defensive position. Weakly attempting to bat the weapon away, a backhanded slap produces an explosive result when the spear is broken in two. Confused by the extraordinary power of the ordinary looking gauntlets, Rift stares bewildered at his forearm and considers his strength while the warrior angrily throws what is left of his weapon to the ground. The Stalfos proves far from defeated, the bitter humanoid lunging forward with a bony swipe aimed at the boy's head. "Right!" Mai warns, encouraging Rift to sway right, and dodge the attack with ease. Wanting to test his power once more, Rift jabs at the skeleton's overextended elbow from his advantageous position.

A blast of shattered bone leaves the wounded warrior stumbling backward, grabbing at its missing appendage in disbelief. Having never been the aggressor in a fight before, Rift finds himself eagerly searching for weaknesses. Mere thoughts of violence finally taking form now that he has the capability to execute. "Strike!" Mai instructs, the skeleton in an obvious state of weakness. Ducking forward, Rift dashes a half step before throwing a lunging punch of his own. The decrepit armor is obliterated along with the undead guardian's ribs and spine. Flailing through the air, it lands back on the stone floor with a loud crunch, never to become animated again. Satisfied with his victory, Rift is taken off guard when Mai suddenly shouts, "Right!" Reacting at the last possible moment, he spins right just as the sneaky ghoul attempts to impale him. Certain he had the boy's number, the Stalfos nearly loses its balance when the bladed tip of its weapon strikes the stone floor instead of the boy's back. Finding himself completely behind the overzealous enemy, Rift sees its straitened leg exposed as it attempts to regain its equilibrium. Stepping into a downward hook, the skeleton's knee is destroyed, sending it tripping onto the ground. Needing no command this time around, Rift leaps into the air, descending upon the helpless warrior with a heavy punch. His fist doesn't stop until it has cracked the stone floor, the Stalfos' ancient skull smashed to pieces in its wake with a satisfying crunch.

"Nice!" Mai cheers, awestruck with how quickly he is adapting to combat. The rushing water pours over the platform, creeping over Rift's sandals in a warm stream. Wasting no time, he runs for higher ground, but is forced to descend the narrow staircase to exit. The small room is rapidly filling with water, the uncooperative floor doing nothing to hasten his escape. Halfway across, the water has reached his waist, and continues to rise faster than he would care. The muddy floor and thick, grimy water leave him running in slow motion, like a dream in which his only aspiration is to run as quickly as possible. Almost to the door, a sudden gush of the pale green liquid splashes onto the sole lantern, leaving the room in darkness. The water splashes against his chin, and Rift still hasn't found the first step leading to salvation. "Almost there," Mai assures him, adding, "Don't give up!" Dipping his head under, he pulls his weightless leg out of the unforgiving floor, ready to succumb to fear in the pitch black tomb. Finally planting his foot on the staircase he breathes a gasp of relief once he breeches the water's surface. Climbing from the death trap on his hands and knees, he shakes his soaked arms briefly before searching for his next objective. The water doesn't pause for an instant, already pouring up through the open doorway and invading the large room. The entire temple suddenly shifts its weight, the room Rift has just exited breaking off completely. With gravity focused on the front door now, the water doubles its pace, flooding the room rapidly as the entire temple wobbles atop the massive swamp.

"The door to the second floor is locked," Mai reveals, trying her best to remain calm. "We need to find a key before the water catches up to us. Nodding in agreement, Rift doesn't realize Mai's calm demeanor is the only thing keeping him from panicking and making a critical mistake. A shorter staircase to his left leads to a large room full of fallen pillars and overgrown plants. The extraordinary amount of debris and foliage makes it look as if a giant wrecking ball smashed its way through centuries ago. Climbing atop one of the few pillar bases which still remains upright, rift spots a small chest at the far end of the room upon a pedestal.

"There!" He announces, quickly beginning his trek toward the treasure.

"Something's fishy about this," Mai absently responds. Climbing through the maze of debris, Rift reaches another standing pillar, but can find no clear path through to the chest. The old, circular slabs of stone lie piled into a wall with a plethora of plants and trees making the obstruction impassable. "Need a hand?" Mai asks, almost laughing at her own dumb joke. Realizing what she's getting at, Rift gains his footing and leaps forward. "Here!" She shouts, grabbing hold of the boy's glowing palm and whisking him over the wall of debris. Landing in front of the chest, Rift smiles and quickly trots toward the pedestal. An iron gate blasts up from unseen holes surrounding the treasure, the convenient chest suddenly inaccessible behind the strong bars. The new obstacle quickly becomes uninteresting when a howl echoes through the room.

Growling with every breath, a Wolfos creeps up to the ledge overlooking the desolate area. Its pale grey fur is strikingly contrasted by its vivid yellow eyes. Spotting its prey, the agile beast leaps from pillar to pillar before landing directly in front of Rift, its razor sharp claws biting into the stone floor as if the sturdy stone were chalk. Almost paralyzed with fear, Rift takes his battle stance, waiting for Mai's instruction. The feral creature lets out a howl as it suddenly pounces with a swipe of its claws. "Left!" Mai shouts, giving Rift significantly less time to react compared to his previous battle. Shifting left, the sharp claws scrape against his right gauntlet, knocking him off balance for the moment. Continuing the assault, the four-legged foe dashes forward in a Z pattern in order to confuse Rift into dodging the wrong way. "Left!" Mai shouts once again. Able to dodge in time, Rift catches a glimpse of an opening as the animal dives past him. Far too small a window to capitalize on just yet, he stands his ground, waiting for the next assault. The beast seems to realize it has underestimated its prey, circling the boy while bearing its threatening teeth. Its patience wearing thin, the animal fakes a couple more attacks before diving in for the kill. "Right!" Mai yells, growing more accustomed to the beast's unorthodox attacks. Rift can feel the hot burst of breath as the snap of teeth misses the mark once again. An awkward uppercut to the creature's ribs sends it sprawling into a nearby pillar. "Strike!" Mai excitedly commands, seeing the opportunity to end the battle. Dashing in for the kill, Rift is surprised when the injured mutt quickly finds its footing and scampers out of the room.

The tall, iron bars fall back into the ground about the small chest, giving Rift access. Curiously, Rift moves back toward the chest, pondering the purpose of the brief trial. Flipping the lid back reveals what he had expected, a small silver key. "Alright!" Mai exclaims, still sounding mildly worried. "Let's get out of here." With a couple helpful hands from his mystic companion, Rift makes his way back into the main foyer. The water hasn't slowed down for a moment, the entire room quickly consumed by the insipid, green waves. Already threatening the staircase he now stands upon, the path to the second floor lies beneath the ever increasing water level. "We're running out of time," Mai announces, attempting to spur a little more initiative from the boy. Simply standing and staring at the short distance between his position and the staircase leading to the second floor, he hangs his head in shame.

"I-I-I," he stutters, embarrassed by yet another pathetic declaration.

"What? You can swim can't you?" She states more than asks. Rift's silence is all the confirmation she needs as the steadily rising water begins to splash over the top of the staircase. Slowly backing away, Rift feels the familiar sting of fear and disappointment. He would run, and he would hide, praying for anyone to come and save him. "Hey, we don't back down from a challenge anymore," she points out, sensing his reservations. "We can't save Hyrule if we can't get past a little bit of water. Trust me, we can do this." Absently nodding, Rift is only half listening, the water now pooling atop the small platform connected to the sunken stairs, forgotten beneath the murky water. "It's now or never," she proclaims, desperate to pull him from his trance. "Let's go!" Hesitating for a moment longer, Rift takes two rapid steps through the shallow water, leaping out and over the span of churning liquid. "Here!" Mai shouts, grabbing hold of his hand and propelling him forward. The top of his foot splits through the rising torrent with a large splash as he soars further toward his goal. Beginning to descend once again, he is still a fair distance from his destination, already plummeting back into the hungry water. "Now!" Mai exclaims, appearing further ahead and grabbing hold of his hand once again. This time, both legs dip through the water as Mai slings him all the way to the large staircase. Landing in knee deep water, Rift wastes no time charging up the stairs, and to the locked door.

Plunging the key into the lock, Rift pulls the heavy door open as the key vanishes. With a gleeful sigh of relief, he continues up a spiraling flight of stairs leading even higher into the structure. "See?" Mai asks, sounding extraordinarily tired. "How do you ever doubt me?" She jokes, her fading voice implying she is close to losing consciousness.

"Hey," Rift mumbles, stopping in his tracks on the dark, moist steps. No reply. A faint source of light peeks downward from somewhere above as the rising water works its way to the stairwell. "Mai?" He asks, his eyes darting around the open air. "Are you there?"

"Y-yeah," she weakly responds. "Sorry, that last stunt took a lot out of me."

"Oh," he replies, feeling guilty for asking so much of her.

"We're almost out. Just be careful." A more determined nod is the only answer she needed as Rift marches up and out of the stairwell through an arched opening. The dim light of the dark dimension's sun reveals they've emerged onto the temple's rooftop. The overgrown vines and trees hang on to the crumbling structure for dear life as it continues its slow descent into the swamp. The roof is mostly flat before sharply dropping down a sloped story, its cracked and creviced walls leading all the way down into the water far below. The lofted bottom floor has nearly disappeared into the churning bog, but the ruined bridge is holding strong for the time being. Considering how to escape the sinking ship of a temple, Rift fails to notice the beasts carefully stalking him. Emerging from the vegetation-shrouded corner of the roof, two Void Wolfos take offensive positions on either side of the boy. An aura of bluish-silver radiates up from their paws and over their forms. Crystal white fur stands strait up on their backs as if they were falling at tremendous speed. Their eyes glow a dead blue, like a full moon on a windless night. An odd growl grabs Rift's attention, the sound seeming to echo in some inverted way. A cold chill runs down his spine upon hearing the noise. Nearly toppling off the roof in shock, he takes a passive sort of defensive stance, unsure how to proceed.

"H-hey, you ready?" He asks, taking small steps backward from the approaching animals. Silence. The animal directly in front of him lowers its head in an offensive manner, but a shuffling of claws on the rocky surface behind him reveals the distraction for what it is. Spinning around, the razor-sharp teeth are already closing in on his neck, and with no warning from Mai, Rift feels helpless. Raising his arms in an X, the hungry jaws are repelled by the magical metal. Still, the beast knocks Rift to the ground, snarling and snapping at the boy's head while he struggles to push it away. Kicking at the animal's chest produces no perceptible result, the weak strikes hardly even registered as the beast angrily tries to claim the boy's vulnerable throat.

"Be strong," Mai's voice whispers. "Use our gauntlets." Managing to position one hand on the wolfos' neck, Rift pulls back his right and delivers a punch square on the nose. The animal is knocked from its advantageous position, stumbling to keep its footing as Rift regains his own. Not wasting a moment, the second beast lunges in, slashing diagonally across the boy's back with its claws. A tormented scream echo's throughout the swamp as Rift falls to his knees in pain. The scent of blood finds the beast's nostrils as it circles away, ushering it back in for the kill. "Rift," Mai whispers once again. "Don't leave me. Please." Though he is intimately familiar with the feeling of regret, the sensation now boiling in his gut is completely new. Mai is the best thing that has ever happened to him, and now he sits, waiting to be ripped in two, as if he is eager to leave her. As if he wants to show her how little she means to him. He is not brave. He is a cowardly weakling, but he knows Mai deserves more of him than what he has been. She deserves to see what he can be. What he can do, if it is for her. Time itself seems to slip in this critical moment. The lunging predator speeds up dramatically in short bursts, then stops completely, paused while flying through the air to acquire its meal. Rift's palm glows brighter than ever before, the swirling vortex consuming time itself as the gauntlet concealing it turns transparent. A switch he never knew existed flips somewhere in the back of his mind as he gazes at the window into the void. Suddenly, everything is inconsequential. He ceases to care about the beasts, the temple, the dark dimension, his pain, and even Mai. His eyes focus upon his palm, the deepest questions and answers of the universe spiraling out as time is pulled in. He feels as if a part of himself is pulled from his chest as his eyes change from black to the same dead blue as the animals he faces.

The carnivore descends upon its target with primal eyes, but Rift suddenly spins into a back-fisted attack, throwing the animal across the rooftop with a savage strike to its head. Moving through the stolen portions of time, Rift is now able to dodge and attack through nonexistent spaces. The other hungry mammal decides to catch to boy by surprise, lunging at his back, but a sudden elbow rocks its head to the side as it struggles to remain on its feet. Rapidly combining his strikes in imperceptible movements, Rift ducks in and uppercuts the animal's furry chest, sending it flailing into the air. Without even thinking about his next move, he slaps both palms to the ground, rocketing him into the air just before teleporting through time at his target. Twirling into a somersault just before catching up to the wolfos, he clasps one hand in the other, hammering down on the beast's exposed back. Spiked down like a volleyball, the defeated animal plummets into the swamp water far below, hitting the surface of the bog with a large splash. Descending back to the roof himself, he is an instant from being torn open when the remaining enemy leaps at him. With no time to react, Rift vanishes from its vision, reappearing after tilting himself horizontally and thrusting his arms upward. Biting the air where its target once was, the second wolfos is thrown high into an arching path, squirming about all the way down into green swamp some distance away. Knocked from his falling trajectory, Rift hits the rooftop harshly, rolling to a stop just before reaching the ledge. Lying still for a moment longer, he doesn't notice his triangle begin to fade back to its neutral blue shade.

"Are you alright?" Mai asks, sounding much healthier.

"Y-yeah," Rift responds, pulled from his trancelike state upon hearing her voice. His eyes fade back to black as he holds his head, and the sting of pain across his back returns.

"That was amazing! You took them both out without even needing my help," she reveals, sounding excited up until the last few words.

"Don't leave like that again," Rift half demands, his voice tinged with emotion.

"I'm sorry. It's not like I wanted to," she sighs, waiting within the awkward silence before eventually adding, "we need to get out of here." The first floor of the temple having vanished beneath the murky lake, it continues to pick up speed as it dives deeper. Jogging across the roof, Rift spots the bridge a distance below. Out of options, he plants a foot on the ledge and prepares to jump.

"We can make it, right?" He asks, sounding as determined as he's able.

"Of course," Mai smirks, delighted by his newfound willpower. With that, Rift leaps forward, the wind whipping across his face as he falls past the edge of the bridge. "Here!" Mai shouts, using his ample momentum to swing him back upward. The second his feet land upon the stone, the pillar succumbs to the whirlpool below, quickly toppling over. A dashing leap allows him to continue forward, adrenaline charging through his veins as the bridge begins to collapse all around him. Sprinting down the falling path, his heart sinks when a pillar falls to the left just as he leaps for it. Landing upon the already tumbling slab, he is thrown outward, doomed for the watery grave below. "Here!" Mai shouts, grabbing his hand and spinning along a diagonal arc, throwing him back toward the lofted path. Not pausing for an instant, he continues to sprint forward, every section traversed quickly falling in his wake. Suddenly, a massive span of the bridge falls, the path ahead lost all the way to the archway resting upon solid ground. Unable to pause for even a moment to think, Rift dives into the air as the final pillar drops out from beneath him. "Here!" Mai calls, latching onto his wrist. "Hang on!" She warns, not letting go as he swings forward. Gaining momentum, she spins the boy in a complete loop before releasing her grasp. Sailing through the air, Rift descends upon the vine-wrapped archway, pushing off the top of it to narrowly avoid a collision. Landing with just a little more grace this time around, Rift tumbles head over heels through the blue grass before sliding to a stop on his back. Rising to a sitting position, he watches as the temple disappears beneath the frothing drain of the disgusting bog. The setting sun offers what little light it can upon the dire scene, the spirited sounds of wildlife dying down as the creatures give the fallen temple a moment of silence. Watching the gurgling torrent subside with a sense of pride, Rift finally turns to leave the dark realm.

"I hope the next one is this fun," Mai squeals, prodding an unintentional smile on the boy's face. Finding the patch of lush green grass amongst the sea of dark blue proves easy enough. Taking a moment to brace himself, he steps through the portal, still unable to shake the sick feeling the gravity switch causes. The large clearing on the other side has grown dark, the massive tree still endlessly yawning while the insects throughout the forest become increasingly lively. Instinctively pulling his hood up and trotting back to the entrance, Rift finds the Deku Baba waiting. "Take him out," Mai encourages with a fake sort of cockiness. Loving her subtle sense of humor, Rift fakes a step forward. The hungry plant takes the bait, lunging forward and snapping at the open air. With a vengeful back fist, the plant's head is launched in a circular trajectory like a tetherball circling a pole. As it unwillingly returns, Rift has a right hook ready and waiting. An ugly spray of sap and saliva splatters against the wall of earth as the carnivorous sprout is detached from its stem violently. Feeling a newfound sense of power and pride, the boy continues out of the area with his head held high.

"Didn't think I'd see you again," Mido shrugs, watching the boy pass. Without a word, Rift continues down the gradual slope of the valley, stepping over the large roots spread throughout the area. Passing by the shop once again, Rift glances over to find Fido staring at him every bit as intently as before. Still unable to work up the nerve to say anything, he quickly averts his eyes, causing her to giggle loudly. Back in the lost woods, Mai guides him back to Hyrule Field just as a distant Wolfos howls at the emerging moon.

"Oh no," he unintentionally mouths. Never leave the town's walls at night remains engraved on his eardrums, and right on cue, a Stalchild's arm climbs out of the earth.

"These guys are pipsqueaks compared to what we've been dealing with," Mai points out, confused by Rift's sudden complacency.

"They won't stop coming," he reveals, shaking his head in fear.

"Sure they will, you just need to scare them off," she assures, prodding him to keep going. The first few close in, and Rift makes short work of them. The power of the gauntlets lay waste to the fragile skeletons with ease, but just as the boy warned, the tiny apparitions multiply with every defeat. "Okay, I see what you're saying now," Mai has to admit, searching for another option. "There's a farm right over there. Maybe we can spend the night." Punching through another bobbing skull, Rift searches the horizon and spots a lighted house a brief jog away. The stumbling orange eyes close in like a tightening noose, and he soon realizes it is the only option.

## Bid for Power:

### My Oracle of Sages

The Arbiter's Grounds are an unwelcome sight to say the least, but Gannondorf continues up the sandstone steps just the same. The mighty coliseum looks as though it would house a battle ground for gladiators, but its true purpose is nothing more than a glorified prison. The abandoned, circular halls have deteriorated severely, large chunks of the walkways succumbing to erosion in the harsh desert climate. With two of his trusted guard following close behind, the dark lord proceeds to the center of the large structure, uncertain if this aging heap will offer any answers. A large, sandy pit was determined to be his final resting place, the sages too obsessed with their rituals to carry out an efficient execution. The pair of Gerudo women wander the area, kicking over suspicious looking stones and scanning the architecture above for wandering shadows. Gannondorf inspects the massive black stone he was chained to years ago, futilely fighting against the heavy, steel restraints. He remembers it so clearly, the ethereal sages concaved around him as the blade of light stabbed through his torso. He had been wounded a thousand times, but the Sword of sages impaled his very soul, inflicting him with a wholly new sensation of pain. Their misplace sense of justice, watching and waiting for him to simply die like a pitiless dog, pushed him further still from the limitations of moral men. He remains one of the goddesses chosen, even at the cost of the sage of water, they continue to grant him power.

A Wolfos howl carries in the desert wind, the crescent moon staring down through the tall walls of the mighty structure. A brief glance at the mirror of twilight confirms what he already had assumed. It lies in ruin, the shattered pieces numbering too many to ever successfully reassemble below the large, circular frame. In the back of his mind, the cursed Hylian boy runs him through with the master sword once again. Such a simple and tactless maneuver, it is no wonder it bypassed his complex and overthought defenses. Death had come to him at long last, but it could not have been destined. The goddesses would have left him to eternal slumber if his demise were truly just. A jolt of anger quakes his spine recalling the relentless Link chasing him down in the Sacred Realm, and stabbing him once again. The Triforce hovering at arm's length as he fell to his knees, defeated by yet another thoughtless act of heroism. The back of his hand glows with power, seeming to feed on his anger as thoughts of vengeance cloud his judgment. In an act of pointless virility, he punches the edge of the portal stone, bashing off a large chunk of the dark rock. Moments later, a confused female's voice fills the silent air as Ganondorf ignores the dull pain throbbing beneath his gauntlet.

"What the," she starts, her voice originating from the stone itself. "The portal to Hyrule has opened? Impossible," she continues, moving closer to the hole between dimensions. "Hello? Link? Is that you?" She asks, a tangible hope swelling in her tone. Unable to stifle his laughter, Ganondorf reveals himself to the ruler of the Twilight Realm.

"Hello, Imp," he greets with a sinister tone.

"You," she starts, her voice quickly leaving her. The gorgeous ruler of the twilight realm, Midna's dark skin is a creamy mixture of blue and grey. The dark cowl of royalty does not mask her face, but instead seems to extenuate her sly, narrow eyes and pursed, purple lips. Her orange hair and red eyes convey a natural sensuality, though the fear and angst they currently display is not what the average man would consider appealing. She thought it best to turn her back on the world of light forever, but fate has offered her a second choice on this particular night.

"To imagine," he continues, crossing his arms and getting comfortable. "The day I would see the twilight bitch absent her voice."

"Enough!" She shouts, quickly losing her temper. Thrusting a hand at his smug face, Midna realizes the small fissure is only strong enough for communication, not a physical transference.

"What's the matter, imp?" He taunts, aiming to discover what secret bars him from entering the twilight realm of his own accord. The mirror has been shattered, but even a weak usurper managed to travel between worlds without any need of a mirror. Zant received but a mere fraction of his power, and traveled between the light and darkness at his leisure. Some minor alteration, some unseen seal has been set upon this gateway during his absence. He must gather what information he can to unravel this mystery, and with a little luck, he might just merge the two realms after all.

"How many times must you be killed before you've learned your lesson?" Midna snaps back, gradually calming herself.

"Oh," Ganondorf starts, clearly amused with the conversation. "I've learned my lesson, and learned it well. This time I won't have to meddle with the likes of you."

"This is why you've come?" She retorts, attempting to match his cavalier attitude. "You've nothing better to do with what time you have left, and I promise you, that time is short."

"Pathetic threats from a pathetic creature," he laughs, shaking his head. "I would simply have you know," he grins, moving in close. "Once I'm done with this world, yours in next."

"You possess no capacity to threaten my kingdom. Not anymore," she admits, briefly eying the shattered mirror behind her foe. "You make empty claims, and remain utterly ignorant to the nature of things. I pity you, thief."

"Save your pity for your hero," he responds, growing momentarily agitated himself. "Once I've lain his severed head upon these very sands, you may gaze upon it at your leisure," he rants, pointing at the ground beneath his feet. "And know this, arrogant little creature, you are powerless to stop it," he concludes, searching for a sign his words have sown seeds for later reaping.

"You will fall to Link," she shrugs, suddenly apathetic. "Just as you always fall. Wait and see if talk shields your breast from his steel," she points out, unaffected by his mockery.

"Perhaps it isn't my ignorance you should concern yourself with," he declares, selling the bluff well. A lengthy scowl is the only response he'd hoped for, Midna's eyes betraying her growing dread. "Your only passageway into this realm, destroyed by your own hand. I fear it is I who should pity you, Imp."

"Childish," Midna breathes after a long sigh. "Run along and scheme your schemes. I'll gladly watch your execution this time around," she conveys, growing tired of the pointless banter. With an agitated quiver of his lip, Ganondorf turns to leave, satisfied with what he has learned. His mind shifting to his next move, he makes it no further than three steps before Midna's frustration gets the better of her.

"The sages will remove that pathetic excuse for a heart this time! You will answer to all of the souls you've taken," she concludes, staring at the Gerudo's back with anticipation. Without another word, Ganondorf marches away from the stone, waving an arm to summon his personal guard back to his side. Satisfied with her message, Midna vanishes from view, though the connection to the twilight realm remains. Nimbly dashing across the sand, one of the naginata touting women trips over a buried object just beneath the surface, having to struggle to retain her footing. Surprised by such a highly trained warrior's uncharacteristic clumsiness, Ganondorf returns to the mirror, a white object having caught the moonlight in his peripheral vision. Kneeling down and brushing the sand aside reveals a white mask. The sight initiates an instinctual reaction in his gut, and an image of the sage of water executing the killing stroke on that fateful day overwhelms his thoughts. Suddenly, his senses are overtaken by a magnificent orb of fire, the horizon ablaze as far as the eye can see. The intense heat and imminent danger serve to confuse more so than startle him, but his mind cannot make sense of the phenomenon, his instincts now dwarfing his reason. Regret gradually transforms into sensational anger, and the dark lord's hand snaps shut like a bear trap, crushing the mask to pieces. Partially hidden beneath the shifting sand and tumbling bits of broken, mystical material, a blue medallion shimmers in the sparse light. Grasping the small, circular bit of metal, Ganondorf cannot seem to concentrate his thoughts into meaningful interpretations. Rising to his feet, a powerful gust of wind throws his new cloak off his back as he gazes at the six droplets of water encircling the center of the trinket. Deep in his soul, he doesn't think the words so much as he feels them come over him.

"The sages... They must, all of them, die."

## Guiding Light:

### Harbored Hopes and Father's Friends

The dark night begins to release its grip on the horizon as Sheik and her disciples exit Kakariko Village, each of them embarking in a different direction. Sanzu, the most gifted of her students, moves west toward the dangerous desert. Boam, the heavy handed wielder of axes starts up the trail to Death Mountain where he has established a rapport with the local Goron tribe. Ashei, former member of the resistance makes for Castle Town where she has many contacts. Linu, a boy who makes up for his lack of stealth with a relentless persistence, heads south to the forest. His endless practice with a slingshot has earned him respect among the Kokiri. The princess circumvents the castle, moving north along Zora's River to meet with a contact of her own. A massive gathering of intelligence is exactly what she needs in order to sort out the recurring visions of the dark silhouette, and now the all-consuming vortex. Ill omens to be sure, and with them comes no perspective of time. Hyrule could fall to ruin this very day, or generations from now. Regardless, she will utilize her recruits for their intended purpose, and they will be her eyes and ears in every corner of the kingdom in the days to come. As the sun peeks into the valley leading up Zora's River, she decides to give up on her stealthy ensemble, opting to return to her royal dress for a more diplomatic appearance.

The bending, weaving path through the canyon north of the castle has an oddly mystical ambience. Throughout the ages, this river has connected Zora's Domain to the castle without fail. Even the drought has failed to cease its flow, though the quantity of water has receded greatly. A twisting helix of rocky arches coated with moss soar and dip up the treacherous path. One misplaced step could end in disaster, the path constantly passing back and forth over the water. Suddenly, a purple creature with haunting, green eyes emerges from the shallow stream. Quickly lining up its target, the octopus-like water dweller fires a large rock through its short, canon-shaped spigot of a mouth. Dodging the attack with ease, the princess is more surprised by the octorok's boldness than the actual attack. She has traversed this passage a hundred times, and the various sea creatures have always stood down in her presence. Another rock is spit at high velocity, but this time Zelda waves her arm in a circle creating a large, crystal shield which hovers before her. The rock collides with the magical barrier and immediately returns from whence it was fired, the shield reflecting the rock and promptly dispersing. The octorok is unable to react in time, the rock landing square on its forehead with a loud thud. Immediately regretting its decision to attack, the recoiling squid dives back into the water with a painful whimper. Considering why it would initiate a hopeless battle for a moment longer, the princess returns her thoughts to the path ahead, and more importantly, the conversation to follow.

The winding walkway finally draws to its conclusion before a mighty waterfall, the lofty trail simply looping at the end, and proceeding back out of the valley. Pausing before the falling water, Zelda expresses a relaxing sigh while listening to the tranquil sound of the Sleepless Falls. The generally tame wildlife near the castle grows increasingly hostile, and yet another premonition of dark days on the horizon invades her thoughts. Another magic invocation is spoken as her focus returns causing a brief whir of light to whip around her hand, leaving a simple harp in its wake. Memories, both fond and painful dance through her subconscious as she plays her childhood lullaby. The notes have been kept sacred through generations as credentials for connection to the royal family. The melody echo's through the long cave before her, and the veil of water parts in the center allowing her passage into it. The consistent rumble of falling water is amplified and altered as she proceeds deeper into the dark tunnel, the morning sun casting quaking shadows through the aquatic curtain as it closes behind her.

The cavern expands drastically as Zelda steps into the familiar grotto of Zora's Domain. Swirling structures of hollowed stalagmite stretch from ceiling to floor throughout the massive cave. The usually overflowing pools are a shadow of their former selves, though the glowing plant life beneath the water continues to feed on them and produce an oceanic ambience, projecting the lazy waves on the walls and ceiling. Rounding the store in order to reach the ramp leading up to the throne room, Zelda approaches a pair of Zora emerging from the water below. The sun is no friend of their race, their teal-colored skin considerably darker on their heads and backs. While they have a very humanoid build, their large fins hanging from their arms at the elbow, as well as the long, tail-like protrusion hanging from the back of their heads makes them very easily identifiable. The majority of the Zora race wears little to no clothing, save for the occasional accessory, as it would interfere with their ability to effectively swim. Passing by with a friendly smile, Zelda is greeted with a formal, yet casual bow from each of the men as they return from their hunt with a number of fish.

"A pleasure to see you princess," one of them expresses, maintaining his bow respectfully.

"You grace us with your presence," the other smiles, also only standing upright once she has greeted them.

"I've come to converse with your king," Zelda nods, her natural charm quickly giving each of them comfort. "Still finding adequate game in your waters, I pray."

"Yes, but I fear we'll have to travel much further in the near future. Each day proves more difficult than the last," the Zora holding the net of fish responds, his face stricken with frustration.

"Just as I'd feared," she conveys, sympathizing with them. "But we must persevere. The drought will pass and we will all be stronger from it."

"I pray you are correct," the other Zora sighs, bowing once more before they depart. The soothing sounds of flowing water massages Zelda's tense heart as she proceeds up the large, curving ramp to the throne room. Far below her, the Zora people gradually emerge from their homes and conduct their daily routines. The long, stretching cones of stalactite seem purposely placed in the small passage to the throne, their random yet captivating spacing giving the room a sense of timelessness. A pair of narrow walkways reaches across each side of a long pool leading to the decorative throne of shells and limestone. King Zora rests with a hand to his forehead, the stress of the crisis afflicting the kingdom beginning to get the better of him. Approaching with a heartfelt smile, Zelda almost manages to startle him as she arrives.

"Zelda!" He exclaims, hopping from his throne to his feet. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I'm sorry, Ralis," she giggles, sitting on the natural steps ascending up and around the throne. "I should have sent word. I'm not here in any official capacity," she admits, getting comfortable. "Just needed to talk to a friend."

"Of course," he nods, easing back onto his seat. "What's on your mind?"

"Several things, but mostly, it's my father," she admits, resting her chin in her hand.

"Still slipping out in the night to adventure with Link, I take it?" He asks with a slight smile.

"It's not meant to be a gesture of rebellion," she sighs, glancing at him with serious eyes. "We argued again. It's always the same, he won't listen to reason."

"He only wants to be sure you'll be there to lead when he's gone. Then your reason can right his wrongs. Sending the army to Gamelon was the right choice, though."

"Careful, you're starting to sound like him."

"Aren't I supposed to sound like a king?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. Managing to prod a soft chuckle out of her is satisfactory enough, his intentions only to put her mind at ease. "If Arcadia took Gamelon, it would only be a matter of time before they set their sights on Hyrule."

"Fair enough," she shrugs, curling her knees to her chest and hugging her shins. "It's all happening too fast. I'm not ready for this. Not yet."

"Yes you are," he quickly retorts with a solemn nod. "Remember when I first became king?"

"I do," she smiles, recalling the young boy terrified of his obligations.

"I'm the one who wasn't ready, but a certain someone offered her guidance," he points out, eternally grateful for the princess's friendship in his time of need.

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, and you turned out alright," she nods, reflecting on his circumstances. "You remind me of your mother."

"It's been so long," he admits with a sad laugh, briefly wiping at his eyes. "It's getting harder to picture her face. What does that mean?"

"I don't know, but what matters is you remember her spirit. I didn't know her as well as my father, but what I do remember is her iron will," she recalls, her mind drifting back to her early childhood. "And her kind heart. I hope I can make my father as proud of me as she is of you."

"I've been told she thought of you as her own daughter. Her fondness was not misplaced," he points out, recalling his cherished time with his mother.

"I remember the day she visited the castle, once the war had finally ended. Everyone was in such high spirits. I'd never seen my father so cheerful, though you couldn't see it in his face," she shrugs, playing with one of her braids absently. "Then she walked in, and even though she was there to swear loyalty, there was this air about her that demanded respect. She was so beautiful," Zelda fondly remembers. "We didn't get to talk that day, but before she left, she looked down at me and said, one day you will be a queen, and I think you will be the very best."

"You will be a truly great queen," he insists, leaning over the arm of his chair. "I'm sure of it."

"Thank you," she blushes, enjoying the brief silence that follows. "My father will never understand, but I was with Link for a reason last night."

"I can probably guess," he interjects with a smile.

"No," she sighs, growing serious once again. "I need to tell you something, but it cannot leave this room, lest the kingdom fall to chaos," she starts, drawing a suddenly serious expression on Ralis's face. "Ganondorf has returned."

"Hah," he instantly retorts, though his anxiousness grows apparent. "Do not jest about such things."

"It's true. I don't know how, but he made attempt on the Triforce yet again. Link and I tried to stop him, but he's shattered it once more," she reveals, holding up her hand. The lower left triangle glows brightly amongst the three-sectioned symbol, and Ralis has seen enough to believe her.

"Why has this happened?" He asks, his angst welling up in him more powerfully than ever before. "Why? Why now?"

"Calm down," Zelda insists, moving over to comfort him. "We will stop him. I'll not see my kingdom fall into darkness again."

"Yes," he agrees after a moment. "You're right. He must be stopped. However I can help, you need only ask."

"I thank you," she conveys, touching his arm affectionately. "You have eyes and ears throughout the waters of Hyrule. I only ask that you find me should anything suspicious occur."

"Of course," he agrees as if it should be obvious. "Now go. Return to your father's side. Do not let him spend another night uncertain of his daughter's desires. You must tell him of Ganondorf's return. This is news too dire to be kept from him," he insists, giving her a brief hug.

"You're right. I fear it will be too much for him to bear though," she sighs, reluctant to leave.

"He is a king," Ralis conveys, "It is his duty to receive tragic news."

"Take care of yourself, Ralis," she smiles, beginning to see a great ruler emerging beneath the young Zora's innocent face. The obligations and responsibilities of leadership have always been on her heels, chasing her down in an eventual effort to restrain her very spirit. She was born, and on that day she was named Zelda, just as her mother, and her mother's mother. A name bound to an inescapable fate. The daughters of the royal bloodline are destined for greatness, created in the image of Hylia herself, a protector of the kingdom, and the world.

The sun has risen well over the horizon when the princess crosses the short distance from Zora's River back to Kakariko Village. Back in her cloaked attire, she passes by a beggar sleeping beneath a tree at the entrance. Silently dropping a rupee into his cup, Zelda continues on, reticently concerned it will be the only money he receives all day. The majority of the townsfolk remain indoors through the morning, one of the few exceptions being Anju, tending her cucco's as always. It is only the producers of essential goods who have felt little impact from the depression. The game stall operators as well as the novelty merchants have long since gone out of business. It is one particular specialist who draws Zelda's presence this particular morning. Moving through the heart of town, she bypasses the well and climbs a short flight of stairs to a recently renovated building. Inside the store has a very dark and uneasy ambience, odorless green and purple smoke slowly climbing through the room. Behind the counter a young witch busily combines liquids, tossing ingredients into a kettle while simultaneously conducting several other chores. A sleeveless purple dress covers her animated form, an oversized witch's hat concealing most of her dark green hair hanging down in pigtails. Only just realizing someone has entered the store she offers her customary greeting.

"Welcome to Maple's poti—oh, it's you again," she sighs, quickly dropping her fake enthusiasm.

"Any luck?" The disguised beggar asks, hanging on to what little hope she can.

"The great witch will finish the request when she finishes it," she starts with a tone of arrogance and grandeur.

"Not this again," Zelda interrupts. "This is for your trouble," she explains, dropping a small bag of rupees on the counter. "If you don't have a cure the next time I stop by, that'll be the last payment you receive. Got it?"

"Hey now, let's not be rash."

"Do you have anything?" The princess quickly snaps back, pronouncing each word clearly.

"No," she's forced to admit, losing her cocky attitude. "My mother never wrote about such an illness. Even our best pick-me-ups only work temporarily."

"Please keep trying, I don't," she starts as the door swings open behind her. Stumbling in with a momentarily drunken step, a middle-aged man with oddly pale skin approaches the counter. Mildly handsome, the individual's steep eyebrows and short, slicked back hair make it obvious he is not a local. A Wolfos trench-coat covers his form, the head serving as an unutilized hood with the yellow eyes and sharp fangs dangling between his shoulder blades. Intricate tribal tattoos litter his single exposed arm, the coat only having one full sleeve. The most curious feature of all, an ancient lantern chained to his waistband swirling with ghostly auras is partially visible through his open coat.

"Alright. Jus' the usual, love," the man mumbles, palming the counter for balance. His highly unusual accent grabs the princess's attention as she forgives the interruption for now.

"You still haven't paid for last time, or the time before!" Maple accuses, standing tall and propping her hands on her hips.

"One more extension, you know I'm good for it shortcake. I'm onto something big this time," he assures, his ghostly white eyes growing wide with the prospect.

"All talk. The poe collector already left town. Who you gonna sell this big something too?" She asks, her immaturity beginning to show.

"I've got other buyers, sweetheart," he smirks, leaning further over the counter.

"Sweetheart?" Maple promptly challenges. "I'm probably twice your age, reaver."

"Bollocks," he chuckles, stretching the word out. "These eyes don't miss a thing. You don't look a day over eighty. How's about we strike a deal?" He offers, his flattery and hints of charm drawing Maple in closer. "I bag this old spook, then we go have ourselves a tall glass of that special stuff they brew in the desert. You and me. Whaddya say?" With a listless sigh, Maple takes a pair of vials from beneath the counter and places them in front of the odd individual.

"You've got a week before I come looking for you," she nods, smiling mischievously. "Trust me, I'll find you."

"Cheers, gorgeous. I'll see you around, yeah?" He concludes, snatching the vials instantly and sauntering toward the door. Stealing a glance at the cloaked beggar, he wiggles the fingers of his empty hand causing his cowl to pull itself up over his head, shrouding his face. Unimpressed with the parlor trick, Zelda rolls her eyes beneath her own hood as he passes by. "Princess," he respectfully nods, touching the snout of his hood as if he were formally tipping a hat. The briefest of visions spike through the beggar's mind the moment he passes by. Shuttering far too quickly to make sense of, Zelda sees a land she has never known. First, the face of a giant clock, then a gargantuan, perforated tower, and finally, a torrent of evil apparitions flooding forth and casting all in darkness. Satisfied with her wide-eyed gasp, the man continues out the door letting it drift shut on its own behind him. Standing in a momentary stupor, Zelda realizes he slipped a piece of paper into her hand.

"You were saying?" Maple asks, leaning on her elbows and daydreaming about her promised escapade. Considering going after him, the princess moves toward the counter to interrogate the witch instead.

"I've never seen that man around here before," she starts, still stunned by his ability to see right through her disguise.

"Back off, sister," she states bluntly. "He only comes around here to see me."

"You called him, reaver?" She inquires after an irritated sigh.

"Profession, not a name. Don't spend a lot of time in magi circles do you?"

"Not nearly enough it would seem," she admits, still sifting through the visions in her head.

"His name is Geist. Can't say I know where he came from, but he's a ghost hunter. If he spent half as much time chasing ghosts as he does drinking me out of business he'd be rich," Maple admits, still too faint of heart to mind.

"I see. Well good luck," she nods with a smile. "He's not my type. Can I get another red potion?"

"Certainly," she nods, much more chipper after hearing she is still without competition. "Damn it, Geist. Last one," she mutters under her breath before rising from behind the counter to offer the vial. "Don't let him drink the whole thing at once. It's better to try and make it last."

"Got it," she sighs, accepting the vial. "Be seeing you."

"Take care. Give your father my regards," Maple smiles, still unconvinced the daughter of a farmer could come up with so much coin for a cure. Outside, the morning begins to drift toward afternoon, and the mysterious man has long since vanished. Unfolding the dirty scrap of paper, Zelda cannot believe her eyes.

A tremendously powerful spirit has entered your realm. He will make attempt on your life, and without my help, he may succeed. This message must remain between us. I will be in touch.

\- G

## Hylian Hero:

### A Threat of Time and Distance

Slowing to a halt, Link hops from Epona's saddle, scouring the dim field for the source of the unsettling feeling latched onto his gut. The last of the day's light seeps beneath the mountainous west slowly, the cloudy sky advertising the dark night that is to follow. With no sword to wield, Link stands ready just the same, hoping his senses are simply playing tricks on him.

"You are the one," a deep, whispering voice sounds from behind him. Spinning around, Link finds a figure cloaked with a hooded, brown poncho which conceals his features completely. Standing with his back to the hero, the figure boasts an air of confidence unlike anything Link has ever seen. "You have traveled through time. Through dimensions," he continues, his robe faintly billowing in the wind. Examining the mysterious stranger, Link notes his thin legs and feet are wrapped in decrepit cloth, disappearing into the large robe at the knees. He is of average height, but the cloak makes his size and stature impossible to determine. "You are the one called Link. You are saturated with the void."

"Who are you?" Navi finally works up the courage to ask.

"I am Garo," he reveals, slowly turning to face them. His visage is indistinguishable beneath his hood, but his round eyes glow a pale green. "The ender of worlds is one such as yourself. It has been foretold. The walker of the void will unmake creation."

"Walker of the void? Do you always talk in riddles?" Navi interjects, her attitude confusing Link considering the man's probably evil intentions. Despite the stranger's suspicious actions, his aspirations seem to end at merely conversation for the time being.

"My home decays, just as this kingdom decays. Labrynna, Holodrum, even the cursed lands of Termina rot from their core just as these lands do," he explains, studying Link's stoic face while remaining still as a statue. The revelations are staggering, but even so, Link cannot offer any sign of weakness, ready to fight at a moment's notice. "You must die for this reason. My brethren fell to your blade, but they were fools obsessed with the old war. Now, a new struggle threatens us, and the Garo will not taste failure again. All who make passage through the void will fall by my hand. You are ill-equipped for battle now, and so I will be watching, void-walker. Soon, I will claim your life. A fight without valor is not a fight. Honor is the way of the Garo," he concludes, suddenly dipping backward just before the sun sets completely. A distant howl of a Wolfos coupled with the sudden blink of light distracts Link's senses just enough for Garo to evade his vision. The timing and technique is familiar to him, though the skills far exceed his perception just the same. A shadow within a shadow, folding itself into the very wind. A method shared only by the Sheikah. It is only now Link realizes his foggy memories are not that of a dream. His adventure in Termina was very real, and now his actions have come back at him across dimensions. Finally he has an answer, but a thousand new questions have eclipsed it completely.

"What was that all about?" Navi asks under her breath, fluttering about in search of the ninja. Confused by his words, but relieved to have avoided the fight for now, Link mounts Epona once again, adjusting himself uncomfortably before setting his sights on the castle. The evening is growing dark unsettlingly quickly, but his numerous concerns do not include the availability of light. Epona's steady gallop suddenly becomes sporadic, and Link immediately knows why. Lon Lon Ranch stands solitary in the center of Hyrule Field. Several small windows of the simple, multistoried farm house flicker with candlelight. With a comforting pat on her head, Link breathes a chuckle and steers his horse toward the farm. A jolt of energy erupts from Epona's legs as she charges toward her birthplace.

A tall, wooden fence surrounds the entire ranch as numerous livestock freely roam the property. A small, newly renovated house stands just inside the archway entrance opposite a large barn. Dropping from the saddle, Link gives his horse an encouraging pat as she excitedly gallops into the dark field of yellow grass beyond the barn. Still pondering the connection between Link and the Garo, Navi bobs through the air toward the house, anticipating Link's decision to stay for a while. Simply twisting the knob and strolling right in habitually, Link only considers knocking after the door is swinging open. He had spent a great deal of time on the farm in his younger years training with Epona. Eventually, the ranch became a second home, but the time of darkness drove the family out of Hyrule completely. By the time Zant of the Twili took control, they had long since settled in a small kingdom far to the south. A rich, agricultural nexus, the ranchers fit right in, though they longed for their abandoned land and distant friends. Shortly after the king of thieves fell, a courier was dispatched to offer them government subsidies. Convincing the ranchers to return their iconic brand to Hyrule became one of the king's highest priorities during the recovery. The people needed a sense of nostalgia and tranquility. They needed to be assured things could go back to the way they once were.

"Hello, fairy boy," Malon absently greets, descending the stairs of the simple farm house. Her humble, pink skirt bobs near her ankles, fastened above her waist with a belt, unintentionally advertising her child-bearing hips. Her natural, red hair shimmers in the candlelight as she busily picks up bits of straw, her concerns resting entirely on cleaning up the shoddy house. A nostalgic smile steals over Link's face, her steadfast sense of nonchalance reminding him of her stubborn, childhood similarities. Rapidly disappearing into the kitchen, she isn't the least bit put off by Link's sudden appearance, going about her business as if he weren't there at all. "There's fresh milk in the kitchen. I'm taking some over to the boy in the barn," she explains, moving past the duo without a second glance. Unable to pose an utterance of response, Link and Navi move to the kitchen after Malon disappears through the front door with a tray of food in hand.

"We really don't have much time to lose," Navi feels forced to point out as Link pours himself a glass of milk. A subtle nod confirms his understanding before he downs the glass in a couple quick gulps. The passion with which she cares for her cattle is undeniable once a bottle of Lon Lon Milk is tasted. Wholly eclipsing even the finest Ordon can produce. Absently wiping his lips with his forearm, Link walks back through the living room, and passes through the open door into the night. The moon offers a very dim glow, shrouded in thick cloud cover. The subtle breeze is welcome, rolling atop the fading blades of grass and doing what it can to cool the humid night air. Somewhere in the dark, Link hears an excited whinny followed by a group of galloping horses charging across the field. Knowing just how much she's missed the ranch, Link won't force Epona to leave just yet. Subconsciously sweeping her long hair into a ponytail, Malon emerges from the open doorway of the barn with a mildly concerned expression. Tilting his head with a questioning glance, Link's interest has peaked concerning this boy in the barn.

"Calm down," she starts like a knowing mother. "He's harmless," she assures, rolling her eyes and grabbing hold of Link's hand. "Stalchildren chased him here. They've been worse lately. Come on." Following reluctantly, Link allows himself to be guided to the familiar spot in the center of the grazing field. The aroma of dry grass and cucco feathers washes over his senses as they lie down to stare at the sky. A small gust of wind pushes a loose strand of red hair across Link's face, but he makes no effort to bat it aside. The sky is an endless black. A shapeless abyss he and Malon are sharing for a time. She is one of his oldest friends, and she's come to know the time they spend together will not turn down a road of romance. Still, her down-to-earth charms have kept him close for this long. She's no intention of letting him drift away.

"It's dark tonight," she sighs, having hoped for a star or two. "At least Epona is enjoying herself. It's been a while since you dropped by," she points out, failing to gauge his silent response. "You've got to relax every once in a while. Don't forget." Another quick gust of wind tosses the rouge strand of hair over Link's nose, bouncing off his cheek and landing on his ear lobe. The meager amount of interaction only drives his thoughts back to the princess, and his obligations. The silence lingers a minute longer before Navi inevitably grows tired of being awkwardly distanced from her companion. Irritating Epona enough to course her back to Link, Navi gleefully bobs toward the exit as Epona nudges Link's leg with her nose. "Time to go already?" Malon asks, seeming faintly surprised for the first time. Rolling to her stomach with a thoughtful expression, she eyes Epona carefully and quickly notes her state of stress. As she climbs back to her feet, Link quickly follows suit, attempting to calm his horse's nerves. "She's fine. I don't think you've been riding her enough though. She doesn't usually act so attention starved." An amused smile pops onto Link's face as he gives Epona another comforting pat on the head before turning back to his somber host.

"Take care," she quickly insists, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around his torso in a brief hug. With her cheek to his chest, she can hear his strong, steady heartbeat thumping contently. His face remains shrouded in the dark, but she can picture its stoic state in her mind easily enough. "Come back during the day next time. Talon hasn't seen you in ages." An assuring nod later, Link squeezes her shoulder assuredly before backing away and climbing back onto Epona's saddle. "Take some milk before you go," Malon calls as Epona begins a steady trot toward the house. "There's an extra bottle in the cabinet!" Though he heard her gracious offer, Link sets a steady pace out of the ranch, circling the large diameter as Navi rejoins him. The meek flicker of torchlight over the drawbridge is his destination. He must find Zelda and form a comprehensive strategy to rid Hyrule of Ganondorf once and for all. The brief period of a simple life and pleasantries often taken for granted has passed. The Triforce has shattered, the world is degrading, and once again the burden of a hero has fallen upon his shoulders.

## The Empty Handed:

### Some Foes Have Righteous Causes

Another long groan fills the air as the cattle lazily shuffle out of the dim barn. The brief sleep has done enough to give the boy a sense of rejuvenation, though his muscles desperately wish to remain inert. Slowly regaining consciousness, Rift rises to a sitting position in his itchy bed of straw, the recently dressed wound on his back still throbbing. The barn is quickly emptying as the consistent scraping of hooves on dry earth steadily decreases in volume. The empty food tray lying next to him is suddenly scooped off the ground as Malon offers a brief smile before returning to her duties. Though there is something almost mechanical about her strict adherence to obligations, Rift notes she is both pretty and kind. Traits he's been unfamiliar with most of his life. She has ` nothing to gain by helping him, and his drifting thoughts are already growing inappropriate. Quickly snatching his silent music box off the ground beside his makeshift pillow, he climbs to his feet with a brief stretch. Feeling distinctly awkward, he wanders out of the barn himself, unsure how to leave without being excessively rude. The morning sun forces an eye shut as he emerges onto the dry field amongst the animals. Catching him by surprise, Malon suddenly appears behind him, seeming to be everywhere at once this morning.

"Morning," she greets with a chipper, but rushed tone. "Stalchildren won't bother you as long as the sun's up. Be careful from now on," she concludes, promptly moving back toward the house with a stack of dirty blankets before Rift can offer a response. There is a sincere generosity in her words, lost in her compulsions as she's no time for such pleasantries. With the sun to his back, he glances left at the exit before deciding he should thank her before he leaves. Unsure if he'll be able to catch her at all, he starts toward the house.

"W-what are you doing?" Mai suddenly asks, confused by the divergence from the plan.

"I want to say thank you before I leave," he admits, preoccupied with his search. Inside the house, Malon is nowhere to be found. Marching up the stairs he spots a room at the end of the hall.

"We really don't have time for this. She let you sleep in a stinky barn with the cows and horses. Is a thank you really necessary?" Mai asks, eager to put the ranch behind them. Ignoring her input, the boy lightly knocks on the door before opening it just slightly. Peering inside he finds an older, heavy set man lying on a bed. His ample facial hair glimmers in the morning sun, his entire body drenched with sweat. Clearly tremendously ill, he coughs several times before returning to his uncomfortable resting position. Quickly realizing he is intruding, Rift shuts the door as quietly as he's able, proceeding back downstairs with a sad expression. "The drought isn't the only plague spreading through Hyrule," Mai admits, sounding much more solemn than before. "Many are succumbing to fevers and illness. It will only get worse in the days to come." Nodding with understanding, Rift ventures back outside. He'd seen a couple older folks in the same condition back in Castle Town. They certainly wouldn't last another month in the dry, consistent heat. Moving toward the open field beyond the barn, Rift spots a farmhand busily scooping fodder with a hay fork. His overalls are coated with dirt as well as his green shirt beneath them. Stifling a cough, he absently scratches at his thick mustache before continuing his chore. The early morning sun climbs higher into the sky and Rift realizes he has already wasted too much time searching.

"Come on, we should have been at the lake by now," Mai points out impatiently. An audible creak is followed by a brief bang and Rift ascertains that Malon has ventured back into the house. Potentially taking a moment to check on her ill-fated father, she surely has better things to do than chit-chat with some vagrant. Though he's afraid to admit as much to Mai, he wishes he could stay longer and get to know Malon. There is obvious warmth behind her automated actions, but she no longer lives in a time when it is duly appreciated. The grumbling man behind Rift mumbles something about having to do all the work around here, stabbing the fork into the ground and taking a momentary break. There is little more happiness to be found here than back home, and Rift finally decides he has seen enough.

"Alright, let's go," he agrees, setting a brisk pace out of the ranch and to the south. Hyrule Field seems to glow with a somber ambience in the early afternoon sun. The boy's long trek south is a silent one, not passing a single soul along the way. His choices and promises begin to weigh heavily on his mind as the lake comes into view. Not many people like Malon must exist in this day and age. Sacrifice and selflessness are legend. Still, she helped him and asked for nothing in return. What sort of ulterior motive could be attained through such a simple gesture? Mai made him a promise. He would help her and she wouldn't leave him. What will he have to do for her in the future? What kind of sacrifice has he pledged to commit? Will she remain true to her word once her goals are achieved?

"You're awful quiet today," Mai notes, uneasy with his new deep-in-thought demeanor.

"Sorry. Just have a lot on my mind," he admits.

"I understand. Want to talk about it?" She asks, sounding just a little more intrusive than curious.

"It's nothing, really. Not much of a lake is it?" He points out, changing the subject as they arrive. A massive, circular beach surrounds a small pond of water at the center. The mountainous west stretches across the horizon yielding to the thick tree line across the southern boundary. A church-like structure spreads over the meager amount of water, sunken beneath the surface until revealed in recent years. Beginning his trek down the gradual slope, Rift fails to notice Mai hasn't answered him, now deep in thought herself. He is keeping something from her, and she doesn't like it. Thus far he has been completely open and honest. Something has changed. Something she'd said or done? Impossible to know for certain, but nevertheless, growing apart will doom them to failure in the trials ahead. If their relationship is to be successful, this level of trust must be eclipsed in the days to come. Rift's steady stride slows to a stop as something catches his eye. A steadily approaching trajectory of hoof prints have locked onto his path, now leading all the way down to the structure's entrance. A gentle wind slowly starts to pull his hood back and over his brow, prompting him to catch and adjust its position. The deeply embedded U-shaped tracks quickly begin to disappear, the sand erasing their existence with ease. Normally not the type to take notice of such subtlety, the boy grows excited to share the information with his companion.

"Those tracks are recent. Someone got here just before us," he points out, attempting to mask his smile with a casual tone.

"Yes," Mai agrees, having noticed the tracks the moment they arrived. "I was afraid this might happen. We're not the only ones after the treasure in there."

"Not the only ones? Should I be worried?" Rift asks, though he suspects he already knows her response.

"Of course not!" Mai smirks, happy to be developing a healthy rapport once again. "It's nothing we can't handle. Come on! We can beat them to it if we hurry."

"Now we're talking," he grins, breaking into a quickened jog down the slope. Just before reaching the waterline, the hoof prints suddenly stop, turning and leading away from the temple. Now following a pair of boot tracks, Rift wades into the shallow, cascading pool, climbing out onto the etched stone entranceway with ease. Inside he is bewildered by the breathtaking sight of a large cathedral of shimmering stone walls and intricately carved pews of resilient wood. The small amount of water outside is reflected on the smooth, marble walls, rippling all the way up to the ceiling. Behind the altar, a large statue of a goddess dancing atop a swirling wave stands high over the chorus bleachers on either side. Drifting between the rows of seating, Rift's eyes remain fixated on the statue.

"Hello, sister," Mai greets sourly.

"Who is she?" Rift asks, captivated by the goddess's beauty.

"Nayru, the goddess of wisdom."

"Oh," he starts, only just recalling Mai's hatred of her siblings. "Why is she here?"

"She's always held a close affinity with water. The Zora worshiped her once. She claims to be responsible for the order of nature. The very order meant to give men reason and compassion. The inherent laws of morality she claimed would allow all creatures to live in harmony," she concludes with an irritable tone.

"So why are we always at war?" Rift asks, perplexed by the conflicting concepts.

"A lack of balance," Mai sighs, clearly having been over this idea in her mind a thousand times. "Wisdom succumbs to power. Power falls in the face of courage. Courage concedes to wisdom. It sounds rational, but this order of life cannot persevere without a strict level of balance between the elements. No mortal creature is so pure, and so the balance is never properly in check," she explains, seeming to reflect on the notion.

"That's what you told her, I mean, in the beginning?" Rift asks, oddly pragmatic despite his level of understanding.

"Yes. She was arrogant, just as the others were, and now you see what has happened."

"I think I understand," he nods, turning from the statue to consider his options. On either side of the stage housing the altar, doors leading east and west seem to be the only paths available. A peculiar smell is climbing out of the eastern door, and the boy decides it's probably the correct choice. "East, do you think?" He asks, still a long way from sounding significantly confidence.

"Yup, that's what I was thinking," she agrees with a chipper tone. "Let's go." A soft arm hooks around his own, and for just a moment, Rift forgets he is talking to a spirit. The carefree Mai leads him forward for a second before the arm dissipates and he is jogging into the next room with a sense of fellowship. Mai seems to become more and more real with every passing hour, evolving from a mere voice, into a tangible being. At this rate, Rift cannot help but wonder if he'll be able to see her in the coming days. The next area is a seafood slaughterhouse. Several giant crabs lie awkwardly about the room, large lacerations riddling their formerly lively bodies. A large hole in the ground served as the entry point, but their ambush obviously ended poorly for them.

"Ulk, what are those?" Rift asks, holding an arm over his nose to block out the smell.

"That's not good," Mai mumbles to herself before answering. "Just a few less obstacles for us to have to worry about," she shrugs, eager to keep moving. "Come on, we must be close now." Reluctantly moving around the stagnant crustaceans, Rift makes his way through a curving hallway leading gradually down. Another intersection offers three options, but the lone door hanging open in the center advertises the obvious choice. Inside the small office is a wooden desk at the center and bookshelves lining the walls. The ample amount of dust and cobwebs make it quite clear the room hasn't been utilized for some time. His curiosity peaked, Rift feels compelled to ask about the out of place features of the temple.

"This place used to be underwater right?"

"Mmhmm," she responds, seemingly preoccupied with something.

"So what's with all the books?"

"Oh!" She giggles, realizing what he's getting at. "In a word, Hylians. A group of scholars tried to restore the temple once the Zora fled north. Obviously they gave up some time ago. More important things to be done with the drought and all."

"Makes sense," he nods, turning to leave the inconspicuous room.

"Wait, do you see that?" Mai points out. "The bookcase behind the desk." Failing to notice anything out of the usual at first glance, upon further inspection Rift spots a faint gleam of sunlight from behind. Circling the desk and peering between the dusty racks, his eyes slowly adjust to the light and reveal a hidden room just beyond the small passageway. Sizing up the loaded shelves, the boy quickly determines it is far too heavy for him to move. Absently placing a hand on the frame, he sees his gauntlet as if it's for the first time, remembering the power it has granted him. With a brief shake of his head, he chuckles at his own witlessness before gripping the smooth wood and bracing himself. With virtually no effort, he throws the entire bookcase into the shelves behind him, destroying both in the process. Staggered by his recently acquired strength once again, he initially fails to take notice of the room he has revealed, staring at his hands guiltily.

"Was that really necessary?" Mai sarcastically jeers, stifling a laugh.

"These are going to take some getting used to," Rift admits, flexing his fingers while eyeing the accessories.

"Yeah," she agrees, suddenly sounding disheartened.

"What is it?"

"I think we're too late," she sighs, prompting her companion to finally take notice of the room he's uncovered. A very small passageway leads back outside via a small stone archway at the end. The exit remains partially concealed by a thick drape with a circular insignia of water droplets stitched upon it. Half of the curtain lies in a clump upon the steps descending into the sunlight, recently slashed diagonally to clear the passage through the hall. Moving down the steps, Rift finds himself in a deep ravine of stone and sand, the structure undoubtedly submerged as well in a distant memory. Several large columns rise high into the air at random intervals, each of them holding up nothing in particular. Trotting across the sandy floor of the pit, he spots more footprints moving to the center of the area with a steady stride. A high platform with a spiraling staircase carved into the bluish stone appears to be the destination of both Rift and the adventurer who seems to remain one step ahead of him. Rounding the stairs, Rift spots the inevitable, an empty chest hanging open at the platform's center.

"Now what do we do?" The boy asks, his voice saturated with defeat.

"Don't worry about it," Mai assures with a carefree tone. "We didn't need that thing anyway. I just didn't want him to get it."

"Who?"

"Farore's disciple of courage. His name is Link."

"Our enemy?" Rift asks, still uncomfortable with the idea of such alliances.

"Anyone who'll help my sisters is our enemy," Mai quickly asserts.

"Right," Rift nods, though he remains unconvinced.

"It's nothing to stress over," she attempts to comfort, sensing his anxiety. "We didn't come here looking for a fight. Come on, I want to show you something," she urges, not wanting him to lose heart. Back down upon the sand, Rift finds himself deep in thought once again. Link. His enemy. How many foes has he created in exchange for a single friend? They didn't come looking for a fight, but there will be confrontation in the future. What will he be fighting for? Survival? Pride? Hyrule?

"Drifting off into your own little world again?" Mai teases, annoyed by the lack of attention.

"Sorry," Rift quickly apologizes, snapping out of the trance. The crisp feel of dry sand grabbing hold of his sandals for brief moments seizes his attention, and once more an uncharacteristic attention to detail provokes a question. "Did you see another way out of here?" He asks, stopping in his tracks for the moment.

"The only other way out would be up," Mai observes, noting the two sets of footprints leading to the central pedestal and the single set trailing back. The seemingly random, but strategically placed pillars surrounding the central platform offer a path all the way up and out of the chasm for someone with the tool to utilize them.

"I was afraid you'd say that," he smiles, resuming his trek back into the temple. Returning to the intersection inside, the curving hallway spans out before him while the remaining two doors rest on his immediate left and right. Opting for the left door reveals a larger room with several arching paths leading downward into sporadic pools of water far below. Glimmering white crystals submerged deep beneath the water's surface project shuddering waves upon the domelike walls and ceiling. There is a calm and captivating aura about the room, but the water below seems anything but inviting to Rift. A sudden series of splashes grabs his attention as several silhouettes rapidly close the distance over the bridges of stone and stalagmite. Taking a defensive stance and backing toward the door, he is immediately cut off by a pair of giant crabs smashing their way into the room. Their rock-hard shells are smooth along the top yet spikey along their circumference, while their massive pinchers are particularly threatening. His exit no longer an option, Rift moves deeper into the room to create some space between himself and his new antagonists.

"I don't think they like us being here," Mai nervously laughs.

"Yeah, I got that same feeling," Rift agrees, now surrounded by the angry sea dwellers. Their thin legs stabbing at the ground like frantic typewriters, the crabs sway left and right, looking for an opening in the boy's guard. Rift's eyes dart from one ugly visage to the next, his head on a swivel, prepared for the inevitable attack from any direction. Suddenly, the crab to his left dips forward, its eyes wobbling as it lines up its target. Turning to engage, Rift is surprised when the offensive quickly turns defensive as the shellfish rapidly resets its footing and backs away.

"Right!" Mai shouts as the cowardly crustaceans ally lunges in from behind. Taken completely off guard, Rift finds himself unable to react in time. Turning just in time to see the massive claw about the clamp around his frame, he crosses his arms in an X just as the pincher reaches him. The impact throws him off his feet as the collision resembles a stationary baseball meeting a swinging bat. Quickly rolling back to his feet, Rift spots the next attack closing in. "Right!" Scooping its left claw toward the boy, the overzealous crab misses its target as Rift spins to the right. "There!" Mai calls, spotting the vulnerable joint of the assailant's elbow. A quick cross hits the mark and Rift leaves the enemy reeling in pain as its elbow bends in the wrong direction. "Strike!" Mai insists, another attack already closing from behind. Dashing forward, Rift unwittingly avoids a fierce swing stabbing into the rocky ground, totally focused on finishing his wounded prey. Still staggering in pain, the crab loses its footing, falling onto its face as Rift leaps into the air. A sickening crunch echoes through the cavern as the gauntlet easily smashes the thick exoskeleton with a heavy downward punch.

"Nice!" Mai cheers now that the tables are beginning to turn. Scrambling off the shattered surface of the defeated foe's back, Rift has little time to celebrate as its comrades seek vengeance. "Left!" Easily avoiding another swipe, the boy prepares to counter when the unexpected rings in his ears. "Right!" Not expecting such a rapid series of attacks, he once again falls back onto his crossed arms defense, bracing himself for impact. The mighty swing hits much harder than anticipated, and Rift finds himself flailing through the air, toppling completely off the arching bridge. Twisting through the air to get his bearings, he sees his end approaching. One of the many pools of water would have been unwelcome enough, but approaching at blinding speed is a cluster of sharp, stalagmite spikes. "Nooo!" Mai screams, watching the helpless boy plummet to certain death. Closing his eyes and bracing for impact, Rift feels a pair of feet suddenly shove him onto a new trajectory, followed by a sickening and disorienting pull of gravity in several directions at once. His dazed expression can't seem to get a grip on reality when he lands on his back near the entrance of the cove.

"Unngh, what," he starts, climbing back to his feet. The smashed door through which the crabs initially attacked finds his eyes first, then he turns to find the group quickly marching up the gradual slope in the distance, their fallen companion lying motionless in their wake. "What happened?"

"Sorry," Mai starts, sounding impeccably tired. "Didn't get to test that one first. Need to rest for a... Be carefu..."

"Mai!? Hey!" Rift shouts, searching the open air for any sign of his companion. When no answer comes, he knows he is alone. Turning back to the approaching seafood parade, he feels the potent fear he had almost forgotten swell in his bones. The impending creatures move with daunting speed, quickly scuttling sideways while flexing their massive claws. Without a second thought, Rift sprints as fast as his legs will carry him through the smashed door, past the intersection, and up the long ramp eventually leading back to the first room. Back in the open, church-like atmosphere, the boy stops and palms the doorway for balance as he struggles to catch his breath. Assuming he is safe for the time being, he begins to ponder how he survived the fall. He could practically feel the deadly mineral deposits running him through when he landed safely such a distance away. Long before he can even begin to wrap his mind around the feat, an unnatural light bobbing above him catches his attention. Suddenly, a blast of metal followed by a rapid clinking noise sounds from the base of the Nayru statue a short distance away. The sound reminds him of the drawbridge of Castle Town falling open in the early morning. With only an instant to react, his eyes cannot make out the blurry object closing in on him. Tripping to his hands and knees, he is very nearly missed by a sharp spike impaling the stone doorway. Rolling to a sitting position he traces a long chain across the room, pulled taut between the hook in the wall, and a green blur rapidly soaring toward him.

Kicking a single boot into the wall just before colliding with it, a man garbed in green analyzes the boy in a split-second through narrow eyes. The very man who fought for the fate of the Triforce only a few short nights ago now gazes down upon Rift as a mere obstacle in his way. A strange device in his right hand houses the recoiled chain he utilized to travel across the room. In a terrifying second, the man tears the hook from the wall while drawing a broadsword from its sheath on his back. In one fluid motion, he spins off the wall and descends upon the boy with a vicious downward strike. Scrambling away, Rift can feel the gust of wind from the blade, still saturated with bits of defeated crab. The sword seems to dance through the air toward him, twirling into a horizontal swing as he recoils, losing a tuft of his cloak in the process. The onslaught doesn't stop for an instant, another attack arching high overhead before descending upon the boy with deadly efficiency. With nowhere to run this time around, Rift crosses his gauntlets, praying they are able to deflect the strike. A tremendous clang sounds, like a hammer hitting an anvil, and the man's grip holds true while the sword is launched backward. With a brief cry, he smashes into the bleachers beside the central statue with a terrible crash.

Peering through his crossed arms, Rift is dumbfounded by the strength of his armor, but still knows he is outmatched should the fight continue. Quickly moving between the pews to the main aisle, he starts toward the door when the man climbs from beneath the rubble, staring daggers at the boy from the altar. Realizing his retreat is futile, Rift resumes a defensive stance, unsure what he should do next. Studying his opponent more carefully, the man in green holsters his hookshot, opting instead for the large kite shield resting on his back. With an extraordinary grace, he spins the shield off the custom mount with a subtle flick of his right hand, catching the handle of the emblazoned piece of metal effortlessly. Slowly moving forward, he carefully considers his next attack as his fairy reveals itself, circling through the air above him with a barely audible twinkling sound.

"What do you want?" Rift asks, though he has a pretty good idea. The man only scowls in response, gaining ideal footing for the next assault. "It's Link, isn't it? I don't want to hurt you," the boy adds, though the pathetic threat falls on deaf ears. An image of carved stone flashes through his mind, and Rift finally recognizes the very man who stands at the center of Castle Town square, the statue erected to symbolize his heroic deeds.

"We know who you are," the fairy encircling the man proclaims with a serious tone. "What has she told you?"

"What?" Rift breathes, momentarily dropping his guard.

"H-he knows that old s-sword can't overpower you now," Mai explains, her voice regaining its strength slowly. "He'll p-probably try something unorthodox."

"Mai!" Rift shouts, instantly unconcerned about the man prepared to cut him down. "What happened? Where'd you go?" Confused for the moment, Link watches the crazed boy converse with himself briefly before initiating his attack.

"This doesn't seem like the best time for—jump!" She exclaims, spotting the Hylian begin to spin. Abruptly sliding the foot beneath his sword hand forward, he twists his body one hundred eighty degrees, launching his shield like a deadly frisbee. His confidence restored, Rift dips forward before leaping over the spinning projectile aimed at his torso. Already moving in for the kill, Link is taken by surprise when the boy slaps down on the twirling metal with both palms. The shield takes a violent new trajectory, skipping off the ground and embedding itself in the thick stone wall beside the exit. The strike sends Rift soaring into the air, quickly managing to twist and maneuver his feet above him as his momentum carries him all the way to the ceiling. "Left!" Mai unexpectedly shouts the moment the boy's feet find the wooden rafters. Shifting his body left, he is once again missed by a negligible margin, the hookshot spearing into the wooden beam instead of his chest. Gravity begins to pull him off of the ceiling as Link rockets upward with sword in hand.

"Go!" Mai encourages, every bit as eager to finish the fight as the sword toting rival seems to be. Slapping both palms down destroys the wooden joist and launches Rift downward. His chain no longer anchored to anything, Link holsters the recoiled weapon, but continues to glide upward, riding the ample momentum all the way to the final showdown. Gripping his new blade firmly, Link calculates the distance between himself and his target, instantly determining the optimum attack timing. Noting the position of his foe's blade, held broadly outward, Rift prepares to deflect and counter, not assuming himself quicker on the draw. At the last possible moment, Link whips his blade over his shoulder, opting for a backslash as opposed to the advertised strike. His decided course of action now useless, Rift reflexively crosses his arms, expecting the worst as Link's battle shout seems to distort and echo as adrenaline slows the boy's perception of time. The blow is dead on, but once again the dark gauntlets prove immune to such simple weaponry. Inadvertently catching the blade between his forearms, Rift scissors them apart, breaking the steel blade in two effortlessly. Committed to the attack, Link's back becomes vulnerable as he passes by, his shield worthlessly resting far below. The unexpected force generated by his defensive attack spins Rift three hundred sixty degrees allowing him to land a solid double-palmed strike between the Hylian's shoulder blades as he passes.

A brief cry of pain is cut off by an explosion of debris, the man in green sent sprawling into the rows of wooden pews below. Landing only slightly more gracefully, Rift peers through the cloud of dust from beside the altar, unsure if his attack was enough to finish the battle. The dusty arena suddenly becomes very serene, the sun's reflections off the water outside now coupling with the profound silence invading the room. Not feeling particularly accomplished just yet, Rift slowly moves closer to the site of his enemy's crash landing.

"You'll have to finish him," Mai warns, fairly certain the boy doesn't have what it takes for such a task. "We'll never be rid of him as long as he draws breath."

"There's no other way?" Rift asks, utterly uncomfortable with the idea, but knowing he cannot write it off all the same.

"There isn't," she confirms, desperate to course the boy to work up the nerve. "Especially now that Farore has witnessed what we're capable of." The wobbling properties of the projected water upon the bluish walls have become more of a twinkling particle effect, the beams of light obfuscated by the cloud of dust diffusing throughout the room. Squinting through the fading haze, Rift cannot believe his eyes when nothing but a small blotch of blood rests amongst the rubble. "Down!"

Dropping down without hesitation, the boy hears the faint whistle of an arrow scream overhead, stabbing into the wooden podium upon the altar. Quickly rolling beside the large doorway, he presses his back against the cool stone, briefly peeking into the sunlight. Another arrow instantly ricochets past his head, but not before he spots Link upon his horse with enough arrows to lay siege to the building for an hour. "Damn him," Rift grumbles, not daring to sneak another peek. The thin crevice in which the Hylian's shield briefly rested stands out among the otherwise smooth stones along the entrance.

"You see? What he lacks in strength he more than makes up for in persistence," she observes, growing to dislike her sister's chosen hero more and more. "We can't fight him out in the open. He has too much of an advantage with his horse."

"Yeah, you're right," he admits, shying back when another arrow zips through the doorway.

"Let's head back to the cave. I think I've got the hang of my portals now," she boasts with confidence. "Besides, those jerks left me feeling pretty crabby."

"Really?" Rift chuckles with his eyes mashed shut. Finding the attempt at the joke much funnier than the joke itself, the boy shakes his head while carefully moving back into the temple.

"What? Puns are funny," she insists, happy to see her companion laughing for the first time.

"Yeah, usually," he agrees, glancing at the Nayru statue as he passes by. He can't help but wonder how terrible Mai's sisters must have been to treat her as they did. Then again, people have been treating him the same all his life. Greedy, arrogant people, stepping on him for no better reason than the simple fact they are able. To think he is on a mission to save such an undeserving populous. The misplaced sense of duty is far more than he can currently comprehend, but even so, it serves as one of the few factors driving him irrevocably forward.

"She couldn't bee-lieve it," Mai concludes with anticipation, but Rift's blank expression isn't the reaction she'd hoped for. "Nothing? Well they're not all animal puns—are you spacing out on me again?" She sighs, mildly annoyed.

"What? No, I just," he starts, immediately feeling guilty.

"Oh, just forget it," she teases, always trying to keep him engaged in conversation. She's spent an eternity overthinking things. She wouldn't wish the same on the boy for even the briefest of periods.

"Come on, don't be like that," Rift goads, steadily growing more and more relaxed with his occasionally charming partner. "Tell it again."

"No, you'll just laugh at me again," she stubbornly points out as they move out of earshot of the defeated hero. An agitated sigh falls from Link's lips as he adjusts himself on his saddle. The sun has already grown impressively demoralizing, the long day to come undoubtedly destined to be a hot one. He got what he came for, but this defeat will not rest easy on his mind. With a quick spur of his heels, Epona carries him from the beach in a flash.

## Bid for Power:

### My Oracle of Reasons

The dark vision has begun to visit him at night. Only in his deepest slumber. The horizon burns as if the sun were consuming the planet. An orb of immeasurable power stands alone at the center of the hellscape, gravitating every molecule of energy into itself. A silhouette hovers within the orb. An indistinguishable creature reaching out to him. The power surging through his body is too much to bear as he is drawn closer to the sphere against his will. A potency that cannot be controlled or directed. The thin line, long since crossed over when power ceases to be strength, and mutates into a hunger. A need for destruction. A cancer no amount of mettle could ever overcome. The silhouette's eyes open and focus upon his naked flesh. A thousand piercing bolts of judgment riddle his body, forcing him to submit to an entity greater than himself. The unfathomable power of God flirts far too coarsely for him to remain within the dream. Bolting upright in bed, Ganondorf requires several deep breaths to pull his mind back into reality. Glancing down he sees that Aveil was not stirred from her sleep by the sudden jolt as she curls deeper into the silk blanket. The king of thieves will not find any more sleep this night, the vivid dream still etched onto his eyelids. The mild desert breeze is uncomfortable on his bare skin, the dry air refusing to cool at night as it always has in the past. The quarter moon shines brightly upon the fortress, illuminating the entire structure and the man standing atop it. Just above the waistband of his dark trousers, a horrendous scar stretches from his navel to his chest, branching out in all directions like an ancient tree in midwinter. Scratching at the dark tissue absently, he feels as if he can almost hear the witches who revived him from such a horrid wound.

"I think we lost her. Hee hee!" A spirited voice cackles.

"Ho ho ho! I sure hope not. The game has just begun!" Another adds, the owners of the voices moving closer. Marching to a better vantage point, Ganondorf stops at the stone ledge overlooking the entire fortress. Rapidly approaching, two dark figures seem to glide up the multitude of stone steps, disappearing and reappearing between buildings. Recognizing them immediately, Ganondorf sighs heavily, regretting not simply staying in bed. In seconds, they've ascended to the platform outside the throne room. Two nearly identical witches hover above the ground upon their broomsticks, their bulbous eyes and large noses portraying them very stereotypically. The most infamous of all the warlock's subjects, their potent magical prowess is a useful tool for the king of the Gerudo.

"Why do you burden me with your presence at such an hour?" Ganondorf gruffly asks, not attempting to hide his disapproval.

"What a greeting. Didn't I tell you to teach him some manners, Koume?"

"Oh sure! Make me the bad guy. It's just as much your fault as it is mine, Kotake!"

"Nonsense! You smother the boy! Look at how irritated he is because of you and your stupid plan."

"It was your plan, and I told you it wouldn't work! She couldn't keep up with us."

"It's just like you to underestimate someone. You're the reason we got spotted in the first place!"

"Silence!" Ganondorf shouts, fed up with their endless banter. Cocking his head to listen, he detects a familiar presence stealthily approaching. Ducking out of the moonlight himself, he decides to use the witches as bait until he can discover the identity of their pursuer.

"It's her! She found us after all!" Kotake gasps, dashing into a hiding place as well.

"No! Take the wrinkled one! I'm too young and beautiful!" Koume whines, shoving Kotake back out into the open.

"We're twins! Stop lying about your age already!" Kotake shouts, initiating a childish scuffle with her sister.

"End of the line you old hags," a mature female's voice declares. Suddenly appearing above the throne room entrance, a Gerudo woman garbed in white scowls down upon the witches, now frozen in fear. Her traditional dress matches that of the other thieves, complete with a white cloth concealing her face. Her long, red ponytail almost brushes against the ground in her battle stance, though it is the only feature available to attempt to accurately place her age. Clutched beneath her forearm, a glaive rests across her back, the large blade held outward allowing it to glisten in the moonlight. With an agile flip, the woman lands before the terrified sorceress's, prepared to banish them from this world for good.

"It's time to finally be rid of you," she mutters, squaring up her targets.

"My thoughts exactly," Ganondorf grins, stepping into the light from behind the woman.

"No," she gasps, spinning on her heels and stumbling back a step.

"What? No clever line for me?" He continues to patronize while moving closer.

"Y-you died. The Triforce abandoned you," she stammers, staring in disbelief.

"A temporary setback," he smirks, revealing the golden triangle emblazoned upon his hand once again. "The more pressing matter seems to be what I should do with you, Nabooru."

"Try it," she dares, briefly twirling her weapon and taking a defensive stance. Though her courage appears to have multiplied exponentially, she knows she desperately needs to find a way to escape.

"Please," he chuckles condescendingly. In an instant, Nabooru is surrounded by thieves touting a variety of weaponry, each of them emerging from a different direction. "Would you live to see another day, or die where you stand?" Considering her options for a moment, she knows she is in a hopeless situation. She could easily best the group of guards, but she is no match for the king of thieves, once again in possession of the Triforce of power.

"Bastard," she growls, angrily throwing her weapon to the ground.

"Good girl," Ganondorf nods, turning to return to his chamber. "Find her a cell. I'll deal with her in the morning," he concludes, gesturing for the guards to take her away. More mumbled curses are all he can make out as the guards drag the traitor to the nearest prison cell.

"A humble offering for our king," Koume announces, drifting alongside Ganondorf as he passes beneath the moonlight.

"We couldn't imagine a better gift than a shackled traitor," Kotake adds, floating opposite her sister.

"It is well received," he is forced to admit. "You will see my appreciation at sunrise," he concludes, entering the throne room without them. Ignoring the few women wakeful enough to beckon him join them, their only purpose to please their king however possible, he continues past the throne to his quarters. His bed becomes a welcome sight, Aveil still sleeping peacefully on her side. Sitting down on the edge, he ponders how best to rid himself of his former second-in-command. She had conspired against him for years, despite being one of his most trusted subordinates. He has heard the rumors of a multitude of Gerudo cities springing up across the desert, absent any manner of leadership save Nabooru's charity. She has been a splinter dividing his people for far too long, and now she will be made an example of. Long before the sun can even peek over the horizon, Ganondorf is strapping on the last of his armor. The rare jewel worn upon his forehead is a symbol of respect, attached to several gold strands looped through his simple crown. Each and every one of his people wear a similar jewel. A marking signifying alliance to the king, and companionship among thieves, the stones the women wear upon their foreheads symbolize pride and respect for their race. His tightly braided red hair clings to his scalp beneath his royal headdress, his mistress having freshly braided it last night. Finally waking she sits up in bed, not surprised to find her king already prepared to depart.

"I remember when we would spend entire mornings in bed," Aveil fondly recalls.

"Cherished times," he nods with a smile. Moving over to the bed he tilts up her chin for a brief, but passionate kiss. "I've a gift for you. Wait on the balcony my queen." With that he marches through the throne room as the energetic leader his people have missed. "Awaken my beloveds," he announces, grabbing the attention of the women lounging about the room. "You will be greeting the sun with the music of justice on this morning. Arise and let all gaze upon your beauty." He conveys, never breaking his stride as he proceeds outside. The dim light of predawn creeps down the mountainside as a waiting pair of sentinels join Ganondorf in his march, matching his stride but remaining a couple steps behind. The mazelike structure is as familiar as ever, though several modifications were made when the new fortress was constructed. Despite this, his intuition guides him to the prison block, only housing a couple nameless wanderers and his former loyal servant. The cells themselves are a pathetic testament to security, only a collection of iron bars spaced just tightly enough to prevent most from slipping through. The fortress itself is the real prison, and should anyone manage to escape their cell, the endless patrols of guards will find them long before they've set foot upon sands outside of the walls.

"I do hope you've been treated humanely," Ganondorf asserts with an air of sarcasm, staring down at Nabooru in her meditative position. Her long hair rests in her lap, and lying near the cell door, an untouched plate of food would be drawing flies if the insects could live in these conditions. Taking deep breaths, the captured woman's eyes remain closed beneath the discolored patch of skin where her jewel once rested. Receiving no response, Ganondorf decides to cut the conversation short and make his proposition known. "You will be given a choice," he states flatly, pausing to be certain the next line is heard clearly. "Choose your response carefully, for you will only get one." Continuing to ignore him, Nabooru remains inert, contemplating some pointless revelation unknown to the likes of him. Another dismissive hand signal and the guards promptly enter the cell, seizing the woman while Ganondorf makes his way to the center of the fortress. The long trench of sand at the base of the ravine stretches from the entrance all the way to the barracks just below the throne room. Waiting high above on the balcony overlooking the scene, Aveil gazes down upon the growing spectacle in her finest dress of red silk. The dozens of women who typically line the path to the throne emerge onto the balcony as well, each of them carrying an instrument. As the drums begin to sound, every soul in the fortress emerges to discover the meaning of the commotion. Marching proudly across the sands, a healthy cheer eclipses the music momentarily as Ganondorf makes the short trip from the cell block to the execution block. The blood of dozens still stains the wooden beams of the loft, the erection merely a simple stage to symbolize the punishment awaiting any who would conspire against the king. As his hands rise to call for quiet, the lutes and oboes quickly fall silent along with the drums and gossip. Dawn's light reaches Aveil as well as the rest of the women upon the concrete balcony just as Ganondorf begins his speech.

"My people! Hear me well, for a grand victory is upon us all this day. We have lured a traitor from the dark corners of our sands, and today she will know our justice," he announces, the passion and charisma of a leader carrying his voice to even the most distant ears. "The good witches have secured this gift to us all," he announces, gesturing toward the pair of old women waiting near the barracks. "And our hearts shall gain a respect they have yet known for the lovely sisters." The cackling, broom-riding duo make a victory lap of sorts around the execution stage receiving a combination of boos and cheers, the audience harboring mixed feelings for them both. Returning to their optimal viewing area below the balcony, the sisters wait to see the fruits of their labor.

"Ho ho ho, it's almost time, Koume," Kotake grins beneath her massive, wrinkled snout.

"I wanted to brainwash her again," Koume sighs. "Hee hee! This should be just as fun though."

"The time has come for the heretic to make her choice," Ganondorf shouts, prompting the guards to bring Nabooru into the light. Walking with an air of dignity despite her situation, Nabooru keeps pace with the guards to avoid being drug through the sand. After ascending to the stage, she is face to face with her former lord, still every bit as sinister as he ever was. Her eyes drift through the crowd before settling upon the block near her feet, still riddled with notches from blade strikes as well as a dark, crimson hue. Long before her stomach can properly settle, Ganondorf poses his question. "You are branded a traitor to your people, and your king. For this you are sentenced to die. I offer you a chance to restore your honor. Return to me, Nabooru. Rid yourself of your false alliances and serve your king once more." The offer seems too good to be true, and Nabooru knows that it is. He would never trust her again. Those damnable witches would brainwash her, forcing her to submit and serve with unparalleled loyalty. She would sooner die.

"I have heard your offer, and I decline. Your cruelty and bloodlust with destroy us all. I will never serve one so evil as you again," she states with contempt. Eyeing the crowd once more, she discovers Aveil perched high above at the center of Ganondorf's horde of harlots. She casually sips from a goblet of wine while awaiting the inevitable execution.

"Would you have those be your last words?" Ganondorf asks, handling the situation as amicably as he is able. Without warning, Nabooru's stoic demeanor explodes into an emotional rant, directed at none other than her former friend.

"I trusted you, Aveil!" She screams, visibly shaking the formerly cavalier woman. "Fitting that you would stand there with the rest of the whores! You could have pulled us all from this lie, but you were too weak! I trusted you!" She concludes, now on the verge of tears. Having taken all she can stand, Aveil storms back to the throne room with two of the other women in tow. Not caring for the emotional outburst, or the intensifying theatrics, Ganondorf decides to put an end to it. With a simple downward pointing gesture, he commands the rebel pushed to her knees, her neck stretched across the cutting block. Her ponytail knocked loose by the force, her vision is shrouded by a sky of tangled red. The sun finally climbs high enough to reach her, and her hair begins to glow like a sea of flames. An involuntary twitch strikes Ganondorf's face, the image of tumbling red reminding him of his vivid dream. The thirst for destruction beginning to burn inside him as what little sympathy he had is promptly strangled to death. Reaching out an arm incites more cheers from the crowd, his empty hand instantly filled with the handle of an execution halberd.

"That's quite enough," a mysterious voice declares. Shifting out of Nabooru's body, the figure of an old man dressed in a heavy cloak appears, glowing brilliantly white and hovering just above the ground. The figure wears an expressionless mask, and adorned upon his cloak is a sort of yin-yang symbol. Surprised at first, Ganondorf instantly recognizes the man from an unpleasant memory. "You are indeed evil, Ganon, but you are not without reason. I offer my life in exchange for that of my vessel." He hears the words, but the king of thieves does not process the request logically. The fire burning within him doubles in intensity upon seeing the sage. He had not even considered the possibility of the sages returning to the bodies of their trusted, mortal shells. This foolish, ethereal being has just made Ganondorf's path clear, the road to each of the sages unveiling like the prestige of a magic trick.

"I will do as I please," Ganondorf bellows in a voice not quite his own.

"Your petty games will be your undoing, Din," the sage conveys, making no effort to fight or escape what he knows is coming.

"Insolence!" Din growls through her possessed Gerudo. His hands not his own for this instant, Ganondorf blinks across the small platform faster than any in attendance could perceive. Seizing the sage of spirit by the throat, he clamps his hand shut like a vise causing the entity to burst and dissolve simultaneously. Reflecting the sun's light in a beam twirling to the ground, the medallion of spirit is snatched out of the air by a dark hand. A grin to eclipse all others spreads across Ganondorf's face as he stares into his palm. Din's control has left him for now, but Ganondorf fails to discern the difference between his actions, and those willed by his deity. Spinning around within the silence that has washed over the crowd, he gives his halberd a skillful twirl before stamping the blunt end on the ground. Having lifted her head to witness her sage's murder through a gap in her hair, Nabooru's hopelessness returns, though it never truly left. A guard quickly runs up and jabs a knee into her back, forcing her chest back down upon the block. She supposes it is the only kindness he is capable of doing her. His blade will strike fast and true. There will be no pain, only a profound quiet surrounding her devout belief that Link will find a way to destroy Ganon's evil reign forever. Her thoughts drift to her first encounter with Link, the stalwart boy agreeing to help her put an end to Ganondorf's schemes.

"It's up to you now, kid," she whispers just before a single tear falls, and the halberd slices through the air like a pendulum.

Long after the cheers of justice and unity have subsided, and long after the den of thieves has returned to its routines, Ganondorf bids his mistress farewell and makes for the front gate. Her emotional state fails to concern him any more than the quantity of sand in the prison cells, his ambition dwarfing her needs completely. High noon has erased all shadow upon the fortress, the sickeningly hot day ascending to its climax. His most highly skilled equestrian walks his horse over, a frightening, jet black steed of renown amongst the Gerudo. After climbing upon the saddle the mighty doors are lumbered open allowing the endless wind to dash through. Proceeding through in no particular hurry, Ganondorf senses a presence following him. He has felt it ever since the execution. The moment the doors clamor shut behind him, he pulls on the reigns and slows to a stop.

"Show yourself!" He demands, practically apathetic to the thief's intentions. "I will not ask again!" He adds after a moment. Stealthily creeping over a nearby dune of sand, Less reveals herself. Though her original ensemble has changed little, she has strapped the fused shadow to her slender form, wearing the massive helm like an ancient corset. The flared base accompanies her hips well while the horn-like protrusions at the top rise up just past her shoulders. Rapidly crossing the harsh environment, she takes a knee beside her leader's horse, waiting for her inevitable punishment.

"Apologies, my king. I have stolen what you discarded only a night ago. I follow you now in hopes of revenge. It was a foolish endeavor," she states clearly and without a hint of nervousness.

"You are becoming troublesome as of late," Ganondorf starts, attempting to size up his difficult yet loyal subordinate. "Rise," he commands, feeling oddly curious. A pair of yellow eyes find his, cold as stone beneath her braided disc of hair. Her heart is not that of a person who can be stopped in their efforts. For a moment, he feels as though he is staring into a mirror of souls. "I've a task for someone of your diligence," he offers with an imperceptible smile.

"Anything, my king," she instantly retorts.

"Be warned that I will not accept failure in such an essential mission," he points out, hoping to insert the smallest twitch of worry in the young woman's face. When her stoic expression remains solid as granite, he knows she will not fail him. "Travel east to the Bridge of Eldin. I trust you know the way?"

"Of course," she nods, managing not to sound excessively cocky or disrespectful. "I will arrive by nightfall if it is your wish."

"It is," he confirms. "You are to make contact with King Bulbin of the goblin tribes. We are going to take back the castle."

## Guiding Light:

### Tired Hands and Heavy Hearts

A distant shout and a scuffling of feet pull the princess from her deep slumber. She'd returned to the castle in such a weary state, she scarcely remembers finding her bed. Her dreams remain vague and inconclusive. The shadow continues to reach out to her, but the figure has yet to become any more distinguished. A mighty blaze burns in the distance, and though it appears stationary, Zelda feels as if it is crawling closer and closer. Like sand through an hourglass, her time is running out. Stranger still, she cannot shake a sense of urgency this morning. Somewhere inside of her, an instinct is pushing her from her bed for some critical purpose. Another steady thumping grows then rapidly decreases in volume and the princess knows something is wrong. Bursting from her chambers, she quickly moves down the long hallway of the castle's east wing. Silence. The unnerving type of silence that only leaves you waiting for some terrible noise to crash in unexpectedly. The lavish rugs and colorful draperies rush by in a blur when the princess ceases her inelegant dash upon sensing a commotion nearby. Rounding the corner her heart sinks when she spots a crowd of servants stumbling over each other just outside of her father's room. With no words of remorse she shoves her way through the crowd aggressively, finally emerging over King Harkinian's bedside. The shaman of Kakariko Village kneels beside the bed in deep prayer. She has met him before. Renado is a well-respected figure among the locals old enough to remember his acts of heroism. Still, he practices no manner of practical magic, opting instead to devote his time to prayer and long since extinct rituals.

"What's going on? What's happened?" Zelda blurts out, her eyes darting about the room in search of anyone with answers. The king utters a weak sigh upon hearing his daughter's voice, painfully attempting to rise and locate her.

"The illness has taken hold of his spirit. I'm afraid it is only a matter of time now," Renado offers, promptly returning to his prayer.

"N-no," the princess stammers, blindsided by the concept of her father leaving her so soon. "S-someone! In my chamber is a vial of red potion! Get it immediately!" She shouts in the general direction of the servants, still scrambling to bring cool water, pain-reducing herbs, or any other item that could possibly be useful in such a dire situation.

"Zelda," the king practically whispers, hoping to calm her rapidly fuming emotions.

"No! I bought you another potion," she pleads, quickly breaking down, yet maintaining an air of elegance about her. "You're going to be alright."

"It's too late for that my dear," he assures with a weak chuckle. "The potions won't help," he starts with a painful series of coughs. "They never have."

"You don't know," she insists, kneeling down beside him. "You have to try."

"My daughter," he breathes with a smile. "You've grown so beautiful. You're the mirror image of your mother. Oh, I've waited so long to see her again," he expresses as his eyes begin to water. Clasping onto his hand, the princess grows overwhelmed with regret, remembering all the times she argued vehemently when compared to her mother. Suddenly, she can picture her face again, smiling down at her in the courtyard full of flowers. Nayru's guidance pulls her misplaced memories from their dark corners and Zelda is bombarded with forgotten moments through her youngest years.

"D-don't talk anymore," she insists with tears slowly rolling over her cheeks. "Save your strength. They're bringing the potion."

"I'll not waste these moments hoping for a miracle in silence. My daughter, Link sought me out just last night. I learned of the Gerudo son-of-a-pig's resurrection," he reveals with contempt. "Link has saved our kingdom from his evil schemes before. I know we share a conviction he will do so once again. He rides to do exactly that as we speak," he imparts, taking several raspy breaths before continuing. "My beloved princess, your people need you now more than ever. I beg you to leave the heroics to the hero of time. You shall be the queen. Your rule and your law will bind this land with justice and compassion. Do not forsake your birthright. Become the leader I could not be. You are everything Hyrule has needed all these years. Please, Zelda," he concludes, his muscles relaxing as he was determined to express the sentiment before he is no longer able.

"I will, father," she conveys with a suddenly solemn expression. All the time she's spent running from her name has come to this climax. Her destiny has always been to rule. It is only now she realizes she cannot run any longer. "I promise you. I will."

"I-I love you, with all my heart," he sighs, slowly becoming weaker and weaker. Renado finishes his prayer, silently bowing before ushering everyone out of the room. A time of serenity passes, and though no words are spoken between father and daughter, they each feel as if they've gained a better understanding of one another. The king cannot blame her for feeling reluctant of her obligations. Nothing can prepare a man or woman for such responsibility. It is a true heart, and a just compass that leads a ruler down the path of a prosperous kingdom. The princess begins to understand just how badly the decisions he was forced to make weighed down upon him all these years. So few choices eventually benefit all who are involved. Even fewer paths lead to happy endings when greed, power, lust, loyalty, and the greater good are all thrown into the mixture. An hour passes and Zelda feels the life leave her father. His tired grip lets go for the last time, and it is the final push toward her uncontrollable tears.

The servants line each side of the hallway when Zelda finally emerges from the room, and makes the long journey toward her own. Every head hangs with the same apologetic visage, blurry through her watery eyes. The massive staircase leading down to the throne room appears on her left, while the hall stretching toward her chamber lies on the right. Her first choice as queen, and she finds herself unable to shake the need to be selfish. Shut herself away in her bedroom until she feels as though she has recovered. No respectable person would have the audacity to resent her for taking this course. Even so, the initial action of Queen Zelda must echo through the years to come, and in her father's memory, she will address the needs of her people before all else. An intuitive transformation begins, though Zelda doesn't spend even a second considering the deeper meaning of her actions. She begins to shed her unnecessary accessories a piece at a time as she descends the stairs with an emotionless expression. Her long, velvet gloves are pulled off, left in her wake like worthless rags. Her absurdly expensive jewelry, as well as her priceless crown tumble down the steps, bouncing atop the long, decorative rug stretching all the way to the base of the staircase. Now wearing nothing but a dress of pink and white, Zelda makes her way out of the castle, ignoring the few guards who respectfully bow and clear her path. Castle town is at the height of its activity in the early evening, though the virtual lack of any attention-grabbing interaction would make the claim difficult to suggest. Passing through the northern district, Zelda hears an angry woman shouting just before a small group of young children round the corner in a hurry.

"Get back here you damn thieves!" The woman shouts, clearly incapable of catching any of the fugitives, though her slender figure seems it should be.

"You said she was asleep!" One of the children shouts over his shoulder.

"She was!" Another replies as they make their escape. Quickly realizing several of the children are carrying loafs of bread, Zelda decides to intervene. A subtle flick of her wrist summons a small, magic barrier in front of each of the children as they attempt to scatter in different directions. Every child bounces off the force field and lands flat on their back in near perfect unison. The woman formerly chasing the thieves stops in her tracks, instantly recognizing the woman with such a potent ability. Collectively regaining their footing, the children decide to resume their retreat.

"Stop right there," Zelda demands, though it is in a tone too friendly to invoke fear. A translucent barrier appears, surrounding everyone involved in the incident and confining them within the small area. "Everyone over here," she continues, noting some of the children are more cooperative than others. "Move it!" She adds with a little more attitude. Reluctantly grouping together in the center of the street, everyone gawks in amazement as the barrier around them dissipates.

"You honor us with your presence, princess," the woman greets with a respectful bow.

"No need for any of that," Zelda dismisses with a slight smile. "Let's get down to business. It looks like we have ourselves a clutch of bandits in town." Though most of the children instantly look ashamed, a couple grow wide grins, considering the accusation a complement. "Stealing is wrong. Do you understand?" She asks, pointing into the crowd of ashamed faces. A murmur of agreement sounds from the group, though it is far from convincing. "Listen," she starts, kneeling down to their level. "I know you're hungry, but this doesn't mean you can take from others. These are tough times, and what that means is you've got to earn these things." The assembly of faces shift from sad to confused as the punishment has yet to take form. Standing back up, Zelda shifts her gaze back to the woman. She looks as though she were pretty once, her blue hair having long since faded with white strands here and there. Her calloused hands are visible even at distance, and her dirty apron combined with the stolen bread hints at the probability of her profession. "I have a proposition for you."

"Me?" The woman asks, her drowsy expression snapping to attention. "Y-yes?"

"I'm sure you could use some extra hands at the bakery," she starts, quickly feeling vindicated when the woman's expression changes to show her understanding. A quick nod spurs Zelda to continue. "Please choose whatever number of assistants you'd like to work for you. The castle will forward you their pay, and with that, they can buy food." A few of the children grow excited with the prospect, but the rest remain apathetic.

"That sounds wonderful," the woman gasps, eager to accept the offer.

"As for the rest of you, I'll make you a deal. I want you to find adults who need help in town. You can help the carpenters carry wood, do someone's dishes, or even bring the guards water. Whatever you like. I'll be waiting right here every day at sundown to hear about what you've done that day. Every day you do well, you'll get ten rupees. How does that sound?" The jaws of several children immediately drop open at the prospect. Ten rupees for simply finding a chore that needs done. They could each eat for a day and still have money to spare. Watching the multitude of faces light up is all the confirmation Zelda needs, and with that she calls an end to the meeting. "Alright. Go on now." The children quickly scatter throughout the town, discussing the deal and staking their claim on particular chores. The sun has begun to set beyond the tall walls of Castle Town, and a steady breeze begins to cool the air for the first time in a long time.

"I cannot thank you enough," the baker insists, unable to articulate her appreciation.

"It's nothing, really," Zelda conveys with a sad smile. "What's your name?"

"It's Marcy."

"Marcy," she repeats, certain she knows the woman from somewhere. "How has business been as of late?" She asks, beginning to walk alongside the woman.

"Honestly, not so good. It's been all I could do to keep an eye on the children," she admits with a shrug.

"I see," Zelda nods with understanding. "Could you summon your friends and neighbors to the square? I'd like to address everyone in town if I could."

"Of course," she promptly agrees. "I know virtually everyone on South Road. I'll spread the word. Thanks again!"

"I thank you," she conveys with a slight bow. Watching Marcy quickly move toward the square, Queen Zelda drifts past a house into a back alley. The empty streets feel foreign to her, the town always bursting with activity throughout her memories. Continuing to walk through town, she falls deep into thought. Her path has been lain out before her. The sneaking past guards, the adventures, and the faint bits of romance all themes of the past. Ganondorf will attempt to seize power once again, but as much as she hates to admit it, he is Link's problem now. Her hero has been just as burdened as she, and suffered the same twists of fate and inconvenient obligations his whole life. Now he truly travels alone. Fights and struggles alone. Wins and loses alone.

Closing her eyes, Zelda sees the figure standing alone in the void once again. His masculine features become pronounced for the first time, his hand still reaching out to her. Though it began palm down, indicating his need for help, it has slowly turned upright, subtly asking her to join him. The colossal blaze has surrounded her completely, still slowly consuming all in its path as the noose of fire tightens imperceptibly. Her vision has changed in one other way as well. Clouds of dark crimson gather overhead, their presence dwarfing both the figure within the void, and the wall of fire. She welcomes the clouds at first, her mouth dry as a bone. She can hear the rain begin to fall, closing in from a great distance as her desperate thirst is nearly quenched. The first drops that strike her face are refreshingly cool, but the steadily increasing storm quickly becomes uncomfortably cold. Doubling over and glancing down at her soaked form, her heart skips a beat to find her body and surroundings covered in frigid blood. Jolting out of her daydream, Zelda finds herself in a small backyard behind a moderately sized house. A young boy sits on the steps descending from the back door in a trance, staring at a broken wooden sword resting in his hands. Moving closer, Zelda finds herself unable to get the boy's attention, his zombie like state obviously not an act.

"Hello?" She greets again. Nothing. Reaching out a gentle hand, she touches the boy's shoulder hoping to bring him back to reality. The physical interaction sends waves of visions into Zelda's mind. His father scolds him for his academic failures. The boy threatens to strike a young girl. The other children follow him obediently. He mocks another young boy while prodding him with his sword, and then he is sitting in a stream, rocking himself in the dark. Jumping as if she were a dodongo leaping out of the earth, the boy is excessively startled by the sudden interaction. Curling into a defensive position, he stares at the queen with timid eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," the boy quickly asserts, attempting to regain his composure.

"You're sure?" She asks, searching for his eyes as they dart about in a paranoid twitch. "What's your name?"

"I-it's Rho," he stammers, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation.

"Hello, Rho. Do you know who I am?"

"Y-yeah," he nods, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "P-princess. You're the princess."

"Zelda will do just fine," she smiles, still unsure where his nervousness is coming from. "You're Auru's boy aren't you?"

"How do you know him?" He asks, beginning to relax a little.

"How the years have gotten away from me," she sighs, remembering her early childhood. "Your father tutored me when I was young. Even younger than you. I remember he was very stern, but still a nice man."

"I guess. My mother says he was easy to get along with once, but then the drought came, and now the war," Rho reveals, still eyeing Zelda suspiciously.

"I apologize for your family being parted in such trying times," she starts.

"Yeah," he sighs, growing distant. "Whatever."

"That's not the only thing bothering you," she infers, reading into his mannerisms. "Is it?"

"You haven't heard," he states more than asks, mumbling into his shoulder and beginning to rock himself slightly.

"I'm so sorry," Zelda quickly blurts out, putting the pieces together. "It was you trapped outside the gates that night wasn't it? I'm here for you if you want to talk about it."

"No," he instantly refuses, shaking his head in a disgusted quiver. "It doesn't matter," he adds, speaking under his breath. "It doesn't matter."

"Please, tell me what happened," she pleads, sounding convincingly comforting. "If there's anything I can do to prevent something like that happening again, I need to know."

"It was," he starts, cutting himself off with a sigh. "No one would help. We all screamed for help and no one came," he declares, quickly growing emotional.

"It's alright," Zelda comforts, sitting next to him and attempting to calm him down. "What happened?"

"We were outside when the sun set," he starts, looking for a questioning glare in Zelda's eyes. Finding none he continues. "The bridge went up before we could get back. They just kept coming," he half whines, painfully remembering the events. "Out of the ground, they just kept coming. I tried," he claims, squeezing his broken sword in his lap. "I fought them, but they wouldn't stop. Bigger ones came. Bigger than us. Bigger than the guards. I didn't have a choice," he declares, unable to maintain eye contact. After a brief period of quiet sobs, he finds the composure to continue. "They took Ona first," he practically mumbles, the sight of the flailing girl being pulled into the ground flashing through his mind. The panicked children turn to him for answers, but he doesn't know what to do. "She was screaming. They were all screaming," he reveals, now on the verge of tears. Child after child wrapped in bony arms and drug down into the earth. "It was only me and Dahn that got away, but there were so many of them. We thought we could jump in the moat to get away," he continues, recalling Dahn twisting his ankle from the fall. The drought all but drained the moat completely, the sad stream of water only waist high. "He was hurt, and they grabbed him," he cries, the look on Dahn's face forever engraved on his mind. The skeletal fingers tear at his flesh as he reaches out for Rho's hand. Far too terrified to help, Rho can only watch the ghouls pull his friend into the sandy bank, vanishing forever beneath the surface. "They don't like the water. I stayed in the moat until morning," he recalls, watching the listless creatures pace the water's edge until dawn broke, daring the boy to come close enough.

"You poor thing," Zelda conveys, genuinely empathetic for the boy. "If there's anything I can do, you need only ask, okay?" Quickly growing reclusive once again, Rho simply stares at the ground, continuing to gently rock himself. "Don't blame yourself for what happened. You fought bravely," she adds, but even so the boy is unresponsive. A growing commotion sounds from the square and Zelda realizes the time has come for her speech. The boy has already drifted back into his reclusive trance before the queen can even offer her condolences. "I'm sorry. I must go. Take care of yourself, Rho," she conveys, wishing she didn't have to leave him in such a state. Rounding the sizeable house and moving through an alleyway, Zelda stops in her tracks as she detects a familiar presence.

"Damn," Ashei sighs, dropping into view. "Thought I had you for sure that time."

"Closer and closer," Zelda smiles.

"We met up a while ago, but Ash just had to try and stealth you," Boam explains, rounding the corner and rolling his eyes.

"What did you discover, Linu?" Zelda asks, waiting for him to emerge.

"A boy wearing black visited the Deku Tree yesterday. Couldn't get any information other than he was suspicious. He came and left without causing any trouble though," Linu reports, sitting on the second story window sill comfortably.

"Strange," Zelda murmurs, thinking for a moment. "You're breathing is improving. Keep at it. Boam?"

"Nothing special on Death Mountain. I did pass a Goron as I was leaving, though. Don't want to be too assuming, but he looked like a troublemaker."

"I'm sure the Goron can handle one of their own," she shrugs, dismissing the notion. Ashei?"

"Several people spotted your hunk ride into town and visit the castle," she informs with a mischievous smile. "He met with the king briefly before departing. Also a strange man in a fur coat has been frequenting Telma's bar. She's keeping an eye out for him and digging around for information."

"I've met the man. His name is Geist. Tell Telma I'll be very interested in anything she learns. Been working on your chi control haven't you Sanzu?"

"The concept is difficult to grasp," Sanzu admits, appearing from behind Boam. "I have critical information for you," she reveals, focusing on Zelda. "I infiltrated the Gerudo Fortress and witnessed an execution. Ganondorf has killed the sage of spirit, and beheaded the woman who retained him."

"Nabooru... No," Zelda gasps, realizing the king of thieves intends to exact his revenge on those who tried to execute him.

"There is more," Sanzu declares, directing the second announcement toward the entire group. "Ganondorf met secretly with a woman outside the fortress. I do not know what they plan, but they've both eluded me riding hard to the northeast."

"It would seem he intends to eliminate the sages," Zelda discerns, thinking out loud. "If this is the case, he will almost certainly head for Death Mountain." Another audible shout sounds from the assembly and time is running out for the gathering to remain intact. "I must address the people briefly. I want you to hear this too. Afterward, we'll decide how to proceed." A collective nod later, Zelda is quickly moving toward the growing audience congregated around the fountain in the square. A cascade of gasps sweeps over the group, virtually none of them expecting Marcy's rumor to come to fruition. Parting the crowd with a purposeful stride, Zelda hops atop the fountain's edge, turning to speak to the assembly with Link's comforting stone gaze upon her. "Thank you all for coming on such short notice," she starts, waiting for the chatter to die down. "I address you on the darkest of days. After a long, hard fought battle for his health, my father, King Harkinian has succumbed to the very illness that plagues many of your families. I ask that he be in your thoughts and prayers in the coming days," she announces, struggling to keep all emotion from her voice. "I know of your hardships. I know it may seem as though each day is dimmer that the one preceding, but I've called you here to assure you a brighter day will dawn. As your queen, I will not spend a single day within the confines of that castle," she declares, thrusting a finger into the air behind her. "I will work with each and every one of you, and together we will watch as the sunrise grows brighter and our suffering fades away," she announces, drawing a meager, but genuine cheer from the crowd. "The castle will be opened to anyone in need of food or shelter. We're all in this together, and it's high time we started acting like it."

The pledges and promises visibly lift the spirits of the few who came to hear their new queen speak. Trust and happiness is a long game built up brick by brick, and Zelda knows this all too well. She will not earn the respect of her people with a speech. They will not sing her praises with some free food and lodging. She will need to show them she is not a ruler of people, but instead one of the people herself. She will share in their joys and their sorrows, and guide with her wisdom. Deep down, she wants to stand where she stands now, many days down the line, and witness the brighter day she's promised. Not simply to gain respect, but to know a kind heart and steady rationality can right a capsizing ship thought lost to the sea. It takes such unbelievable effort and patience to build this sort of trust, and a single blast from a war horn to destroy it completely. She knows the sound well. The Bulbin have arrived.

## Hylian Hero:

### A Child Without a Face

The boy is strong, much stronger than he could have guessed. With every passing day the crisis afflicting Hyrule grows substantially more complicated. Navi warned him not to fight. It seems it was his pride he was fighting in the end. Still, the boy's specific intentions remain a mystery for now, his magic gauntlets equally perplexing. The forest's entrance comes into view and Link dismounts Epona near the tree-shrouded entrance. The flora nearest Hyrule Field has entered the late phases of decay, their leafless forms shriveling to wrinkled husks in the dry, relentless heat. Deeper inside, Link can clearly see the beams of light piercing the canopy of the lush foliage, the forest continuing to prove resilient in the face of a slow death.

"I can't believe you lost!" Navi teases, her mocking words drowned out by the beating of hooves until now. "I told you that old sword the king gave you wouldn't hold up in a real fight." With an agitated sigh, Link endures the ridicule as he starts into the forest. A sudden flap of wings overhead gets his attention, the source revealed to be a giant owl staring down at him curiously. Poking its head forward, the large bird looks as though it is about to speak to him. In a heartbeat, Link has produced his bow with an arrow drawn tightly back, aiming directly at the owl's chest. Seemingly shocked and appalled, the bird rapidly beats its wings, propelling itself up and out of the area in moments. A practiced series of motions returns the bow to his back, and the arrow to his quiver with a rapid, yet unconscious efficiency. In no mood to be further annoyed, Link continues into the forest, passing through Old Kokiri Village, and continuing into the Lost Woods. The distinct sound of an ocarina floats through the air among the sparse insects and drifting leaves. Taking a left at the intersection, Link moves through an old, hollowed tree trunk and into a small clearing. A large, dead tree lies at the center, and seated on top is a child dressed in a dirty, thatched tunic complete with a bell-shaped hat. Settled with his back to the duo, the kid rocks left to right rhythmically as he plays the ocarina. Either oblivious to their presence, or purposely ignoring them, the kid continues playing as they approach.

"Hey, kid!" Navi calls, drifting ahead of Link.

"Who you callin' kid?" He distantly responds, keeping his back to them as a hush falls over the area.

"Tough talk, as usual," Navi jeers. "You wanna back it up today?" Slowly lifting an arm into the light, he reveals the Ocarina of Time clutched in a golden gauntlet.

"Looking for this?" He asks with a mischievous tone.

"Alright, kid, hand it over," Navi insists, seeing where the confrontation is going. Whipping his frame upright, he spins and points a threatening finger at her.

"That's Skull Kid to you, fairy!" He shouts from beneath his horned, skull mask. "You want it?" He asks, dangling the ocarina in the air. "Come and get it!" He concludes, aggressively pushing off the tree trunk and launching himself deeper into the woods. A massive crack rips across the old wood in his wake as if Link needed a demonstration of the gauntlet's power.

"W-where did he find those?" Navi stammers, in awe of the forest dweller's blatant disrespect. A deep, relaxing breath later, Link pops his knuckles before charging into the forest after him. Leaving the beaten path of the Lost Woods behind, Link's eyes dart about the trees in search of the masked adolescent. A golden glimmer in the distance catches his eye, and he doubles his pace to catch up. Without warning, an entire tree snaps at the base, screaming downward at the anticipating Link. Rolling to the side with ease, he produces his hookshot, firing at the kid as he leaps into another tree. The hook lands just above the snickering youngster, and Link soars across the green landscape to claim his property. With a carefree chuckle, the troublemaker dances away from the chain and around the trunk before hopping into the air and shoving this tree over just as the one before. Still being pulled toward the falling tree, Link is forced to tear his anchor free leaving him drifting vulnerably through the air as the wooden column roars past him. Bursting from the canopy, the skull kid thrusts a mighty punch, hitting the large, kite shield dead in the center. The gauntlets power knocks Link from his trajectory, sending him twirling back to the ground. Rolling into a safe landing, he quickly scouts the tree line, spotting yet another golden glimmer vanishing into the foliage. He has underestimated his prey. A mistake he does not intend to repeat. Staying low and moving quickly, Link listens carefully for the melody dancing through the trees. He's long since discovered it's an irritating game of hide and seek. The kid is taunting him with the music, but Link decides to use it to his advantage. Unable to locate the origin of the melody, he soon realizes it has stopped completely as he rounds another large tree. Another deafening snap later, a nearby tree slams to the ground, landing with a heavy crunch as Link narrowly dodges the mossy guillotine.

"Hahaha!" The kid laughs maniacally, soaring overhead once again.

"This is getting old," Navi grumbles, unsure how to outwit their overpowered opponent.

Yet another acrobatic landing, and the pint-sized pest is searching the ground for his prey with a stiff hand across his brow. Giggling excitedly, he cannot remember the last time he had so much fun. The bobbing green hat becomes more and more difficult to discern as they get deeper into the forest. The mostly yellow and decaying landscape has grown distinctly more lavish and colorful, both around the canopy and along the ground. Not wanting to play the ocarina until he knows just how close Link is, he holds it near his lips, squinting downward. The arrow has already speared into the tree before he could see it coming, the feathers on the end slapping against his mask as it vibrates from the impact. Immediately losing his balance he topples off of the branch, spotting the approaching Link as he falls.

"That almost hit me!" He shouts, enraged by the sudden, non-lethal attack. Twirling his shield off his back and onto his arm, Link times the approach perfectly to intercept the kid just before he lands. Out of options, the skull kid causes the blur of thick bark beside himself to explode in a domino-effect of shredded wood, two trails left in the wake of his flexing fingers as he fails to slow his descent quickly enough. As Link prepares his game-ending strike, the masked nuisance aggressively pushes off the trunk just before the man in green reaches him. The tree snaps apart and falls sideways, as if a rug were pulled from beneath it, twisting slowly downward as the kid gradually soars out from beneath it just above ground level. Reacting quickly, Link hits a falling branch with his hookshot, flying between the whirling branches as the tree tumbles to the ground in a swirling torrent of leaves and light. Ahead the forest opens into a massive clearing, the ample sunlight hitting Link in short bursts as the tree's branches conceal and reveal him. The added momentum of the falling tree accelerates the tethered hero even faster, closing the distance between himself, and the kid gliding just beneath him. Tearing the hook from the branch just before reaching it, Link manages to keep every ounce of momentum, flipping out of the leafy spire the instant before the tree collides with the ground. Just ahead of him, the Skull Kid narrowly managed to evade being crushed beneath the tree, drifting to a stop like an airplane hitting a runway.

Spinning around to determine the fate of his pursuer, the kid produces an audible squeak when he spots Link descending upon him. Narrowly avoiding the pointy end of the shield, he sees his opening when it spears into the ground, leaving Link open for an attack. Lunging forward with a haymaker punch, his fist meets steel when the Hylian jerks his shield out of the ground at the last second. Even so, the impact sends Link flying backward, tumbling to a graceless stop as he finds his footing. Wasting no time, the skull kid claws both hands into the earth, kicking dirt up behind him like a bull preparing to charge. Determined to simply overpower the hero, he launches himself forward, descending upon his target at blinding speeds. Just as he'd hoped, Link raises his shield to block, unaware just how hard the kid intends to hit him. Enclosing one fist in the other, the Skull Kid swings downward in a hammering motion just as Link jumps back a step. Spinning into a back-fisted attack, Link can't help but grin when he sees the kid took the bait, his arms down at his sides from the failed strike. The blow produces an unsettlingly brief cracking sound, the kid continuing forward while tumbling head over heels. Bits of shattered bone fly in every direction, one of the horns landing next to Link's boot as the debris quickly settles. Skipping to a stop in a barely conscious stupor, the skull kid scarcely notices Link prying the gauntlets from his arms before reclaiming his ocarina. Staring down for a moment longer, Link sighs as if he feels sorry for the punk who made this simple task so difficult.

"Nynngh, alright you win." The kid mumbles, slowly recovering his senses.

"We know!" Navi promptly points out. "You're getting off light. This is the last time we entrust something to the likes of you," she concludes, drifting over to link when she realizes he has already begun to depart. The sun has nearly set, though it is difficult to determine through the veil of trees, the entire sky glowing a dark shade of orange. Moving to an ideal spot in the clearing, Link stares at the ocarina for a nostalgic moment. The bluish-purple instrument's reflective surface shines in the sparse light, bringing back memories of past adventures. Adventures he'd intended to put behind him by leaving the potato-shaped flute in the skull kid's protective custody. Lifting it to his lips, he flinches when a reflection of light hits his eye just right. Stepping closer while briefly shielding his eyes he spots a fragmented piece of metal lying in the grass. Upon closer inspection, Link sees the sharpened chunk of forged steel has a partial Triforce engraved upon its side. The moment he touches it, Navi is infected with energy, circling Link's head enthusiastically.

"It's a fragment of the master sword!" She exclaims with an odd certainty. "It's so strange, I can feel it now," she reveals, fluttering about while adjusting to the sensation. "I think Fi is trying to help us. It's hard to tell exactly where, but there is another shard northwest of here," She reports, confused by Link's emotionless expression. The news is fantastic. Enough to put a smile on Link's face any other day, but he has scarcely heard a single word Navi has said. His throat has long since dried completely as the familiar feeling encircles him like an unwelcome embrace. A thirst for blood resonates in the very air he breathes as he can practically feel Garo's essence drift through him in anticipation. He is watching, and he is waiting.

## The Empty Handed:

### Some Men Cast Evil Shadows

Another sickening crunch. Another vanquished crustacean. Flipping off the shell-shocked foe's back, Rift takes a more confident battle pose as the crab wobbles and falls down for good. Better prepared for the onslaught this time around, he's made short work of the angry sea dwellers en route to the portal below. The waving lights dance along the sloped walls of the cove as the boy makes his way further and further down the gradual arch leading into the water.

"Okay, now you're only going to be in the water for a second. Trust me on this one, you'll be back out on the other side before you know it," Mai assures, studying the trepidation on his face. The arch's slope increases dramatically near the bottom, the plunge into the pool becoming a vertical drop. Deep beneath the water's surface, the sandy floor is visible through the pristine waters. Directly beneath Rift, the sand is a dark red in an obscure shape. Certain he is going to regret this decision, he slowly works up the nerve to jump. "Ready," Mai asks, doing her best to usher him along. A deep breath and a nod later, the boy sprints into a dive, darting head-first toward the crimson sand below. Hitting the water with plenty of force he sails strait through the red sand, emerging through a yellow blight upon an entire floor of red. Beginning to lose his momentum, he opens his eyes and panics when he finds himself nowhere near the surface.

A translucent outstretched arm and an assuming smile quickly greet him, latching onto his right hand and pulling him upward. Turning her head to determine the distance, the first of Mai's features are revealed to the boy. Her young face hardly compliments her voice while her dark, wild hair splashes into view as she turns. Little more than a flowing bit of cloth conceals her breast as her ethereal form vanishes beyond that. A sudden blast of speed launches Rift up and out of the water forcing him to run along the vertical section of the arc until gravity allows him to slow to a stop. Quickly catching his breath, he finally takes in his surroundings for the first time. The Dark Water Temple in no way mirrors its counterpart, the path the boy stands upon leading into a dark, massive ravine of a structure. The water is only a slightly thinner shade than blood red, the dark sand below creating the grim impression. Primarily shaded blue and green on the other side of the portal, this dim counterpart prefers variants of brown and small bits of yellow where the sporadic, glowing crystals embedded in the stone emit ample lighting. Failing to captivate him in any way, Rift is far more entranced by his brief glimpse of Mai.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" She asks, feeling as though she may have underestimated his time spent underwater.

"N-no I'm good," he eventually stammers, his focus returning gradually as his clothing sheds water slowly.

"Well this is no time for daydreaming, let's go!" She commands with a peculiar, optimistic sort of sarcasm. Trekking into his second temple, Rift cannot help but feel anxious, his last adventure nearly killing him on more than one occasion. The hallway before him stretches further than the eye can see, the canyon overhead widening gradually as it ascends. The temple seems to have been overrun with stalactite, the smooth stone walls only partially revealed between cancerous growths of mineral deposits. Continuing down the seemingly endless path, Rift suspiciously scouts overhead, the dark canyon void of any of the illuminating crystals sporadically present near ground level. Further ahead a large opening appears, the narrow passage suddenly growing into a much larger, dome-shaped arena. Upon entering the area, Rift cannot believe his eyes when he spots a large treasure chest resting at the center of the barren stone plain.

"No way," he mumbles under his breath.

"Yeah, this is a little too easy for my taste," Mai agrees as the boy cautiously approaches. Long before he steps close enough to access the wooden box, a pillar of limestone leaps into the air carrying the chest along with it. Now just out of reach, the box is barely visible atop the oddly shaped pillar. A strange glyph has appeared beneath the boy's feet, encompassing a large portion of the floor, and its intricate design is the obvious culprit behind the treasure chest's currently unreachable position. Beginning slowly, but gradually increasing its pace, a consistent flow of water works its way up Rift's body. Tracing his extremities and crawling up his chest and neck before falling upward, landing out of sight far above on the dark ceiling. Rift's sense of gravity is thrown by the profoundly odd sensation, but even so, his overall situation has changed little.

"So that's different," he chuckles, more fascinated than confused by the feeling as he watches water droplets move up his open hand, tracing his fingers before they are plucked away by the inverted gravitational effect the temple is producing.

"Yeah," Mai agrees. "Seems like it only affects the water though. Don't you start floating around on me." Now studying his surroundings more thoroughly Rift spots a camouflaged doorway positioned much higher than the pillar along the wall of the large dome. With no perceptible means to access it, he lets out a long sigh, irritated by the rapidly increasing challenge the temple is presenting. "My time to shine," Mai mutters to herself with a giggle. Without warning, the floor below the boy turns transparent as if it's become a glowing window to another dimension. Immediately falling through, Rift lands clumsily upon solid ground as the hole above him quickly closes.

"W-what?" He stammers, attempting to get his bearings. Glancing to his left only serves to further confuse him, the doorway overlooking the large room filling his vision. Far below he finds the chest resting upon the raised column, and further down the large glyph which activated it. "How?" He blurts out, utterly unable to articulate his confusion.

"Hee hee," Mai laughs excitedly. "Works even better than I thought. I told you I've got the hang of my portals now."

"Portals?" Rift asks, carefully eyeing the smooth ceiling overhead, as well as the space he was standing upon moments ago.

"Think of it as a doorway between where you are and where you want to be. It's sort of like teleporting in a way," she admits, uncertain if her comparisons are helping.

"So you can teleport me anywhere? Why didn't you say so before?" He asks, mildly annoyed.

"Wanted it to be a surprise," she expresses mischievously. "I was too weak to pull it off until recently anyway."

"Oh yeah," he mumbles, recalling her fading away after saving him from his fall. Suddenly several things make a lot more sense, and Rift only grows more appreciative of Mai's sacrifices.

"Okay," she starts with more enthusiasm. "I'm trusting you with control of the portals. You can aim with your right hand, then just tell me when to open them. What do you think?"

"Really?" He states with a look of shock before glancing down at his hand. The spectral triangle emerges in a tranquil whirlwind the moment his thoughts shift to it. Indecipherable secrets brush past his ears while the infinite depths of the void pour in through his eyes, drowning his conscious mind.

"Want to give it a shot?" Mai asks, her upper body taking shape in it's odd, translucent way and looking further ahead for a suitable testing ground.

"Y-yeah," Rift agrees, shaking his thoughts free and turning his palm away from himself. A brief hallway ends in a sizeable room, littered with pools of water and twisting paths. The faint, red glow of the liquid combined with the dark walkways make the room seem hellish at first glance. Though the water is no more dangerous here than in his own world, Rift considers the pools to be every bit as treacherous as lava, his inability to swim making a misstep every bit as deadly. Making his way along one of many winding paths, the boy notices the water seems to be clinging to the ground, occasional droplets pulling free and falling upward just as the remaining liquid on his clothing. Reaching the center of the area, the paths all converge into a central, bowl-like depression, its circumference just high enough to prevent the plentiful bodies of water surrounding it from pouring in. Spotting a small chest resting on the far side of the room, Rift begins to pick up the pace when Mai suddenly stops him.

"Wait! Do you hear that?" She asks, listening more intently herself. Cocking his head to listen, the boy doesn't notice the pair of humanoid water forms climb up and out of the pools behind him. Standing on the surface of the very water they were birthed from, the forms have slender frames, slowly dripping upward just as the rest of the room continues to. Walking onto solid ground, they make virtually no noise save the faint slushing of water through their extremities. "Behind you!" Mai calls, spinning Rift around in an assumed battle situation. His stance has slowly begun to evolve to compliment his developing style. With Mai's assistance he's learned shielding himself is essentially pointless, her advanced warnings centering his posture on evasion as opposed to defense or deflection. Standing southpaw, he lets his right fist hang just below his chin for counter strikes while his left hand floats in front of him around waist level. Crossing each other's paths as they approach, the transparent forms begin to increase their movement speed as they draw closer.

"Left!" Mai calls just as one of the foes dashes into a roundhouse kick. "Jump!" She instructs before he's even completed the evasive maneuver. The kick narrowly misses before the boy dives forward, eluding a sweeping kick meant to take his legs out from beneath him. Finding his feet once again, Rift attempts to study his adversary's movements as they close in for another attack. "Ju—uh, right!" Mai stammers, the first strike a feigned leg kick as the liquid enemy's fluid movements begin to disorient even Mai's reflexes. Already prepared to jump, Rift promptly loses his balance as a hurricane of strikes pelt his head and torso mercilessly. The spinning assault results in a multitude of watery explosions, each strike causing the foe's utilized limb to blast apart like a water balloon, then quickly re-form before striking again. Rapidly complementing the onslaught, a sudden charge from the aquatic antagonist's comrade catches Rift reeling. Leveling the boy with a brutal shoulder check, the bully joins his ally in retreat, the attacks causing a dramatic loss in their body mass as the expended water rushes upward to reside on the ceiling. Now significantly smaller in size, they each dance across the surface of a nearby pool, absorbing all the liquid they need for another offensive.

"They're faster than they let on," Mai must admit, not expecting such a well-coordinated attack. "You okay?"

"I'm good. Payback time," he boasts, though he isn't at all sure if he can successfully counter either of them. The strikes hurt significantly less than being hit by a tangible being, but Rift knows he cannot endure too many, the impact comparable to passing beneath a waterfall. The dastardly duo move in again, their movements seemingly coordinated through a singular source. The first fakes a punch, but Mai expected as much, giving the boy no instruction just yet. The second dashes beneath the first's mock strike, its hand transforming into a blade-like shape as it slashes diagonally.

"Right, then strike!" Mai commands, attempting to stay a step ahead of the challengers. Executing perfectly, Rift dodges the swing and instantly returns with a devastating cross. Hit far too many times to perceive, the boy is countered with an uppercut before his own counter can land. A barrage of hooks and powerful kicks batter his form from head to toe before a crescent kick to the head finally drops him flat on his stomach. Almost taunting in their mannerisms, the twins return to their water sources, drinking up the red pools through their legs before returning to the battle grounds. Climbing back to his feet with far less confidence, Rift feels as though he's nearly reached his limit, each blow more painful than the one before. The marine twins clearly have no intention of hitting him with a knockout punch, but instead aim to wear him down until he cannot go on. He needs a new strategy, and soon.

"Any ideas?" He asks with a weak chuckle, the pair of fighters already closing in once again.

"They're just too fast to counter," Mai whines, unsure how Rift can best them. "Right, Right, then Left!" She commands as another barrage ensues. The vicious flurry of strikes hit nothing but air, and the twins grow fiercer by the minute. "Left, Down, then Left!" Another twirling display of aggression and the boy remains untouched. Opting to attack in unison instead of succession, both water forms dash outward before converging with their arms extended in spin attacks. "Block!" Mai is forced to instruct, their sudden change in strategy leaving no room for evasion. Raising his forearms on either side of his head, the rapid beating of water feels like a babbling brook against his gauntlets. Thrown into a panic, the foes quickly realize they must retreat, their barrage unable to disable the boy even temporarily. Realizing his advantage, Rift thrusts his right palm outward, holding his wrist steady with his left hand. Squinting through the transparent triangle on his palm, he squares up his target, desperate to return to its water source.

"Now!" He demands, having put up with this game long enough. Instantly realizing what he is up to, Mai opens a portal beneath Rift's feet as well as directly in front of the fleeing foe. Only slightly disoriented by the fall, Rift can practically see the stunned look on the creature's formless face as he rises in front of it. Contorting into a downward, back-fisted attack, he smashes the enemy's head and chest, its depleted remains falling upward as the boy manages to right himself before gravity reclaims him.

"Well played," Mai smugly admits, genuinely impressed by his growing ability to think on his feet. The remaining form has long since replenished its strength, circling behind Rift for a sneak attack. "Left!" Mai instructs as the boy ducks to the side, dodging the simple strike with ease. The remaining antagonist has grown significantly more cautious, strutting toward Rift with curious mannerisms. Another attempt to feign fails as Mai doesn't lead the boy into a trap with a false warning. The enemy almost seems frustrated, its target now immune to its tricks and tactics. "Block!" Mai encourages, delighted by the enemy's unraveling stratagem. A ham-fisted haymaker punch soars at the boy's head, but Rift manages to shield himself from the torrent of water that follows. Purposely failing to recoil for an extra second, the combatant almost dupes the boy into attempting a counter, but the vivid memory of the last attempt keeps his fists in check. Deciding it should refill before any further attacks, the form dashes away, not needing the water, but also not wanting to end up in a worst case scenario.

"Now!" Rift commands, already lining up his mark. Dropping through another portal he cuts off his fleeing foe, though he doesn't attempt to attack just yet. Angered by the turning tides, the addled adversary throws a brutal leg kick just as Rift lands back on his feet. Unable to deflect the blow, the boy drops to a knee while the onslaught continues. A series of hammer-fists are mostly blocked as Rift cracks a smile, knowing his opponent has overplayed its hand. Not even giving it a chance to run, the boy dives forward, punching strait through the entity's stomach with his right and rapidly following with a left uppercut, blasting the foe in half.

"Ohh, I liked that one!" Mai cheers flirtatiously, the boy's growing skillset becoming more distinguished and admirable. The brief isolated shower settles on the ceiling, the forming puddles of water beginning to seep through cracks and disappear to someplace higher above. Taking another moment to revel in his hard fought victory, Rift finally makes the trek over to the chest he spotted earlier. Throwing back the lid reveals what he should have expected, another small, silver key. After snatching it out he takes one last look around, deciding there is nothing more to be found in this particular room. Making his way back to the main foyer, he notices another doorway on the opposite side of the central dome room, only visible from this particular height. Lining up another portal, he has a compelling thought, lowering his hand to consider the prospect. "What's wrong?" Mai asks, her always growing affection for the boy swelling in her voice this particular time.

"What's to stop me from just teleporting down to where the chest is?" He asks as if she should have suggested it to begin with.

"Hah, I was waiting for you to ask that," she snickers. "The portals only work on flat, smooth surfaces. Anything else is too much for me to handle."

"Oh... Well that makes sense I guess," he shrugs, noting the small, uneven chunk of stalagmite the chest resides upon. Now seeing his surroundings with new eyes, there are a multitude of spaces he could utilize, but equally so, several spots across the floor and along the walls that are far too convoluted. Returning his gaze to the new doorway, veiled in a bluish hue through his palm, he determines the best shot and falls upon the ledge. Now significantly higher in the room, the boy can clearly see a small series of cracks lining the curved ceiling, though they don't show any signs of imminent structural failure. Proceeding through the progressively twisting hallway he reaches a large door with a familiar keyhole. Inside he finds an expansive room with a massive staircase leading up in front of him before turning one hundred eighty degrees to meet a doorway high above. A pair of strange buttons rest just inside the doorway, their trapezoidal shape and fairly large size clearly intending for weight to be applied upon them. As cautiously as he's able, Rift steps toward the switch, inadvertently activating yet another glyph upon the floor. The entire temple shakes momentarily before returning to normal, but unfortunately for the boy, the gigantic staircase leading to the next room breaks in several places as a steady flow of water pours up through the broken sections.

"It's always something isn't it?" Mai sighs, painting a small smile on Rift's face. Continuing forward, he steps on one of the two buttons, the shape popping into the ground with a loud locking noise. One of the two doors high above opens allowing a river of water to pour into the room. Colliding with the multitude of inverted waterfalls already pouring up from the staircase, the sudden influx of water spreads in every direction, blanketing the open air with a swirling display of absurd physics. The second glyph has affected the gravity of water far more severely than the first, the entire invasion of liquid never reaching the ground as it is steadily pulled to the ceiling, draining through the many cracks and crevices above. Starting up the staircase, the boy's aggravation increases as the button pops right back up, slamming the door shut and ending the spectacle. Proceeding up the stairs just the same, he moves between the jets of water in his path, before spotting two large cubes he couldn't see from ground level. Each resting on a wall just wide enough to accommodate them, they stand on either side of the entrance, directly above each of the door control buttons. One of the pair is easily accessible, only a short drop off the staircase to reach the wall it resides upon. Dropping down and giving the block a very light push, he accidentally sends it across the gap, colliding with the opposite wall and falling directly upon the switch below. Once again, the door swings open and water twists and soars in every direction.

"Not exactly what I was going for, but I guess it works," he shrugs, trying to determine whether or not he can simply proceed through the single open door behind him. The upside-down river covers over half of the doorway, meaning the boy would have to crawl through if he intended to progress right away.

"That's not going to cut it," Mai insists. "We need the other door open." Knowing she is right, Rift considers jumping the gap, however, the consistent flow of water spins between him and his goal, the swirling, morphing blanket above him proving beautiful, but highly inconvenient. Suddenly recalling he has access to portals, he squints through the spray of water only to find there is no suitable surface to exploit. Almost ready to give up, his shoulders go limp as he closes his eyes to let out an agitated sigh. "I forgot to mention before," Mai starts, realizing why Rift hasn't figured out the simple puzzle just yet. "The portals conserve momentum when we use them," Mai points out, having long since figured out the solution to their situation, but wanting Rift to have the same vindication.

"Meaning?" He asks, having no clue what she is implying.

"Meaning if something goes into a portal at high speed, it comes out the other side at the same speed," she explains, not wanting to give away the answer just yet.

"At high speed?" Rift repeats, racking his brain for what he should do next. Glancing back to ground level for the first time, he realizes the majority of the surface is perfectly flat. As the pieces begin to fall into place, he grows visibly excited as he figures out what she is getting at. "Okay," he starts, lining up his hand with the spot on the ground near the cube he placed moments ago. Locking onto the spot where he is aiming, Mai doesn't create the dimensional window just yet, waiting for his confirmation. Working up the nerve, he steps off the ledge, plummeting to the ground below without a hint of worry. Mere seconds from a laundry list of broken bones, he shouts, "Now!" Opening both the portal he aimed at earlier, as well as the default one beneath him, Mai feels exceptionally proud watching Rift soar back upward. Righting himself during the ascent, he finds his feet easily enough having just enough momentum to land softly upon the tall wall behind the large cube.

"Alright!" Mai praises, enjoying watching him grow far beyond the timid boy who began this quest with her. She wouldn't call his new sense of determination bravery per se, but instead, more of a drive born of a desire for companionship. He needs her as much as she needs him, and it is within this concept of mutual aspiration that the boy finds the resolve to excel.

"Yeah, yeah," Rift counters, rolling his eyes. "I wouldn't have thought of that on my own."

"That's why we're a team," Mai promptly asserts as the boy shoves the block onto the remaining switch. The second door swings open and the gush of water increases before leveling off. The room continues to ebb and flow, several spots forming whirlpools as the liquid rapidly drains up through the ceiling. Proceeding through the double doors without a hitch, the flowing water overhead occasionally splashes downward provoking Rift to habitually pull his hood back over his brow. A three-way intersection reveals the source of the continuous water flow, a large hole in the center pouring water onto the ceiling like an exceptionally large, inverted spigot. The path to the left leads downward while the right continues on the same level. Opting for the right, the boy finds another massive opening, the room plagued with collapsed overpasses, and varying clusters of stalagmite and stalactite. The uncertain path eventually leads to a large mechanism standing alone atop a pedestal against the far wall. The journey through the room isn't particularly perilous, the use of portals combined with Mai's ability to swing Rift across gaps making no challenge too great for the two of them to overcome.

The final chasm to cross is a large one, but the boy makes the running leap without hesitation. Latching onto Mai's arm, she swings him in a complete loop to generate the appropriate amount of force to send him over. On this particular jump, Rift looks upward while Mai helps him across, catching yet another glimpse of her face. Her eyes are already locked upon his, their wild appearance on the surface seeming superficial, hiding some deeper pain she would rather not confront. The same slight smile pulls at her lips as before. The sort of motherly compassion of helping a toddler up a short staircase when their legs are just too short to climb on their own. Not expecting her to be staring at him, the boy immediately breaks eye contact out of a habitual sort of reflex. He never expected her to be beautiful, and though he has done everything in his power to act natural, the truth is, he has grown infinitely more nervous about his speech and actions. A shifting of rocks sounds somewhere in the distance when Rift activates the lever. The sparse puddles of water remaining have long since dried up, their last drops offered to the rocky fissures high above. The trip back is uneventful as Rift delves deep into thought once again. Teleporting from one side of the room to the other, and leaping over gaps here and there, he is back at the entrance before he knows it. Passing through the three-way intersection once again, he doesn't even notice the steady flow of water has all but ceased, the hole in the center of the juncture occasionally dripping upward. Taking the winding path he has yet to traverse, Mai finally breaks the silence.

"What's on your mind, sunshine?" She asks, Rift's spaced-out visage becoming easier and easier to recognize.

"Are all the goddesses pretty?" He asks, surprising himself with his boldness, emphasizing the second word of the question.

"That's sweet," Mai blushes, mildly susceptible to flattery. "In their own way, I suppose so."

"Could they change the way they look if they wanted to?"

"Of course, but honestly, we all settled on our appearances eons ago. It's so rare anyone sees us but each other. Kind of defeats the purpose," she admits, not considering such things for ages.

"Sorry, I don't know where that came from," Rift apologizes, nervously scratching at his neck.

"Don't be," Mai comforts with a chuckle. "It's been so long. I've missed just talking like this from time to time. All this chatter probably gets on your nerves, huh?"

"No, it's not that," Rift retorts more seriously. "I've just never had anyone to talk to."

"I like you, Rift," Mai asserts after a moment. "You just say what you're feeling."

"Th-thanks," he mumbles with a blush, finally reaching the end of the path. A circular platform overlooks the first room of the entire temple. The very last of the water trickles upward and is slurped into the ceiling the moment he enters the chamber, the red sand below glistening as it dries. Unsure what the purpose of such a platform could be, the boy continues forward to get a better look at the area below. Suddenly, a third glyph reveals itself beneath him, the elaborate pattern seeming to burn itself into the limestone permanently just as the others did. The entire temple shakes far more violently, the earthquake nearly throwing Rift from his lofty position. Almost seeming bizarre considering the events up until now, a steady rainfall commences, all the water returning to the ground from which it first migrated. Confused by the seemingly pointless event, the boy lines up a convenient spot for a portal just inside the massive hallway far below. Landing back at square one, he squints down the long hallway, not at all looking forward to the potential hardships before him. The long walk through the mighty gorge is twice as bad as the first time, the rain causing a shallow, but powerful current to flow just above his ankles, proceeding gradually down into the first room.

"Look!" Mai exclaims as they finally reach the dome room once again. Stretching down from the ceiling, a pillar, similar to the one holding the chest, hangs just above the treasure. Most importantly of all, the surface is impeccably smooth. With a well-earned smile, Rift lines up his palm with the pillar, dropping right in front of the chest a moment later. Inside he finds a pair of greaves, identical to his gauntlets in color and style. Quickly strapping them on, he finds they are worn like boots, protecting his feet as well as his shins all the way up to the knees. His baggy, black pants now loosely hang about his thighs before tightly conforming to his leg below the knee inside the boots. Discarding his battered sandals without a care, his heart sinks when he sees Link's silhouette standing in the long hall, his old shoes drifting past the Hylian atop the rushing stream. Somewhere far away, a faint rumbling sounds, and combined with the bizarre storm, it resembles thunder.

"How?" Mai starts, stopping mid-breath once she gets a closer look at the approaching shadow. Drawing his sword, but leaving his shield upon his back, the only features that becomes clearer as he enters the light are his red eyes. The storm becomes even more intense, the downpour shrouding the entire dome as more shifting stone rumbles in the distance. Wading through the shallow water, the Link imposter continues along a direct path in Rift's direction, his strait blade tracing through the water alongside him.

"Who are you?" Rift asks, feeling significantly tougher in his new armor, but still mildly worried what threat this new challenger poses. Without a word, the shadow of Link draws closer, his slow, purposeful steps closing the distance faster than the boy would prefer.

"I've seen this one before," Mai reveals, her voice all but drowned in dread. "He's a manifestation of the negative emotions suppressed by a hero," she explains, noting Dark Link's identical size and stature compared to the Hylian hero. A translucent sort of black from head to toe, his movements are difficult to discern, worse so in the heavy rain. "We shouldn't fight him. His presence is much stronger than when I last saw him."

"You have any other ideas?" Rift asks, leaping backward off the pedestal as the shadow reaches an undesirable proximity. Waiting to see which side his antagonist appears on, he is far from prepared when Mai shouts a warning.

"Left!" She calls as the dark warrior springs from the ground behind Rift with a blinding attack. Utilizing the water as a type of portal himself, the shadow has free reign to move throughout the room now that the rain has thoroughly pooled upon the ground. Able to dodge the initial swing, Mai is unable to utter a syllable before the next strike approaches. A heavy clang throws the boy back a step, his arm tossed aside from the force of the blow. Marching directly at him, Dark Link's enigmatic style baffles both Rift and Mai. Matching the boy's stance, the shadow holds his blade angled down just in front of his lead leg. His left hand hangs open just beneath his chin, and he never for an instant pauses in his relentless push forward. Already within striking distance once again, Rift doesn't know how to begin the fight.

"Sssit! Hah! Hyaaat!" The demon bellows, mimicking Link's battle cries exactly, though his voice is much deeper and distorted. His every slash is a two-handed swing across his frame before he releases the handle with his lead hand, retracing the swing in the opposite direction so quickly, it almost seems the sword never moved from the initial wind up. His shouts seem to echo a single time with each assault, every seemingly individual strike actually two in such rapid succession, the untrained eye couldn't perceive such a technique. Rift finds himself reeling as Mai's warnings consistently come too late. With exceptionally masterful skill and flair, Dark Link knocks the boy back another step before slapping each gauntlet aside with the side of his blade, then spinning into a devastating snap kick to the chest. Skipping off the surface of the watery floor, Rift rolls to all fours as he recoils, scowling at the steadily approaching shadow through angry eyes.

"I'm telling you we've got to get out of here!" Mai pleads, knowing the boy is outmatched. Shaking off the minor setback, Rift quickly grows obsessed with deciphering the mysterious entity's style, and more importantly, finding a weakness. Resuming his stance, he remains still, carefully watching his opponent's sword hand as it skillfully twirls the blade a single time during his approach.

"He's not going to just let us leave," Rift declares, his tone leveling as he hones his focus. Knowing the boy is waiting for him to make the first move, Dark Link advances to his ideal range before stopping in his tracks. Both fighters remain still as statues while the rain beats down on them relentlessly. Now much closer than before, another series of thunderclaps sound overhead, the sound of falling rocks now unmistakable. A cold chill quakes down Rift's spine, but Mai's comforting touch seems to warm his body from the inside out. A pair of hands wrap around his chest as she speaks calmly into his hear.

"Use your greaves. Strike high and low. If you can get him on the defensive, he might give you an opening," she strategizes, unsure if even the most unorthodox attack would catch the swordsman off guard. With a battle cry of his own, Rift lunges forward with a predictable left cross. Batting the strike aside with ease, Dark Link reveals the true source of his skill to be his footwork as he eludes the sweeping leg kick that follows. His boots move through the shallow water as if it doesn't affect him, and by always obtaining his favored range and balance, deflecting the boy's rapid attacks is like shooing away an exhausted fly. The relentless barrage of punches and kicks are batted aside with peerless efficiency, the shadow's ability to manipulate a blade proving better than even Link's. Finally backing his foe to the wall, Rift feigns a punch, thrusting his open hand forward instead.

"Now!" He commands as Dark Link prepares to counter. Dropping through the floor and out of sight, the boy throws the same spinning back-kick he was hit with earlier as he soars out of the wall behind his adversary. Waiting for the satisfying impact, he is confused when his foot collides with nothing but water droplets, a small amount of weight pressing down on his extended leg. Barely able to maintain his balance on one foot, Rift is dumbfounded to find his foe standing atop his outstretched leg, staring down at him with a pair of disappointed red eyes.

"Move!" Mai pleads, but the warning falls on deaf ears. Too shocked to offer a physical response, the boy stands frozen in place until a dark boot connects with his chin. Pushing off of his extended leg, Dark Link forces Rift's body to compensate for the weight shift, backflip-kicking him into the wall he had just teleported through. Landing flat on his face, the boy feels as if he is drowning at first, the drive knocked from his body temporarily as he lies on the cold floor. Simmering all around him, he can feel the weight of the pelting raindrops beating down upon his back as the shallow pool is steadily animated. Finally mustering the strength to rise to a knee, he finds Dark Link standing over him, bringing down his blade for the death-stroke. Without warning, the temple shakes once again, and the steadily increasing sound of falling rock has finally reached the battleground. A massive chunk of stone descends directly upon both Rift and the merciless shadow. Abandoning the killing stroke, Dark Link dashes backward, gliding across the water like a phantom as he carefully observes the boy's response. Without an instant to lose, Rift thrusts his hand at nothing in particular while calling for Mai's assistance.

Safely dropping a short distance back to what is quickly becoming a pool of death, Rift spots his nemesis already dashing toward him with bad intentions. Suddenly, the lone crystal illuminating the room is smashed by more falling debris leaving the arena in utter darkness. Rapid splashing footsteps accompanied by a pair of glowing, red eyes betray the imminent attack as Mai instructs Rift to dodge. The sharp spike of metal piercing rock echoes through the dark room just before a new crystal drops through a hole in the ceiling, revealing the shadow's narrowly failed stab attempt. Tumbling atop the falling stone to an eventual stop nearby, the yellow gem glows brilliantly, illuminating the battleground once again. No longer able to dodge at all, Rift is forced to desperately block the ceaseless offensive. Another volley of calculating strikes send shockwaves of force in every direction, spheres of water exploding from the impacts as the boy does everything in his power to avoid being cut down. Another crystal of light is destroyed, the falling debris steadily increasing in volume as the empty battleground becomes clustered with obliterated stone. Teleporting through the darkness, Rift evades the shadow for the moment, clueless how to best such an opponent, especially considering his apocalyptic environment. A mixture of frustration and panic charges through him as several yellow crystals fall nearby, the walls of the dome falling away as the temple collapses. Bursting from the water with an upward strike, Dark Link throws Rift backward with a thunderous clang, leaving the boy on the defensive near the massive hallway.

Deciding to finish the fight once and for all, the phantom Hylian executes a carefully constructed combination designed to fundamentally break down the boy's defenses. An overhead slash bounces off his crossed gauntlets before instantly spinning three hundred sixty degrees, knocking his arms apart. Releasing his sword for the moment, Dark Link catches the blade after a single rotation overhead, cutting diagonally downward in an impossible display of skill. Arching his back, Rift avoids the first strike, but the double slashing technique proves efficient as ever as the blade twists into a new horizontal trajectory. Cut just beneath his rib cage, the boy cries in pain, reeling from the endless onslaught as he clutches the wound. Changing hands once more, the shadow spins into a horizontal slash with his right hand, continuing to push the boy into the long hallway as the dome is now lost to the avalanche behind them. Raising a knee, Rift is knocked off balance, but the attack fails to wound him, bouncing off his greave harmlessly as his foe's exposed chest offers an unexploitable weakness. Letting go of his blade once more, Dark Link spins in the opposite direction, catching the sword with his left hand in another abrupt spin attack. Caught on his cheek, the boy doesn't feel the initial sting of pain on his face, the rest of the laceration slowly opening down his chin. His head still tilted to the side in a futile effort to dodge the dark blade, he knows the final blow is coming, though he cannot see it with his eyes clenched shut in pain. Stumbling to a crouched position in the shallow water, Rift's eyes open just in time to see the shadow dash at him, promptly finding its footing as it hovers over the rising boy.

"Jump!" The long-silent Mai screams, unable to give any useful direction until now. Prepared to dodge, but not knowing when or how, Rift blindly leaps forward, bracing himself to be cleaved in two.

"Hyaaaaaaat!" Dark Link roars, his demented voice echoing down the hallway as the exertion put into the attack becomes apparent. Rising over the spin attack at the last possible moment, the boy finally sees the smallest of openings as the vicious whirlwind below him subsides, his greaves having thoroughly amplified his vertical leap. Crossing his arms in his signature X fashion, Rift scissors them apart just as he descends upon the shadow's back. A deafening clang sounds as the phantom's unused shield saves him from the blow, though he is sent sprawling down the hallway anyway. Agilely springing off his free arm, Dark Link has yet to return to his feet when he hears an indecipherable word called from the direction of the collapsing dome. A brutal knee hits his shield with terrible force as Rift's teleporting attack hits much harder than his initial strike. Soaring back into the dome, the shadow drifts over one of several crystals, detailing his silhouette clearly just before a massive pillar of earth crushes him down into the pool below with a pitiless crunch. As the light source is destroyed, so too are the boy's seconds of celebration as the collapse of the temple increases dramatically.

"Time to go?" Rift asks, turning to take in the perilous path stretching all the way back to the exit.

"It's well past time to go!" Mai insists with attitude, not having a moment to congratulate her partner. Leaping into a furious sprint, Rift quickly discovers his newest piece of armor has drastically increased his running speed in addition to his jumping potential. The path ahead narrows in the frantic rainfall, the walls dropping chunks of earth and stone constantly in a catastrophic display of time running out. The occasional tumbling gem of light offers what guidance it can before the next inevitable rock slide blinks it out of existence. Running, ducking, and leaping through the chaotic hall, Rift hurdles a seemingly small obstacle when the floor on the other side falls out from beneath him. A gargantuan chasm opens like a hungry mouth of darkness as the boy falls alongside a random glowing stone of brilliant yellow. Time and sound drift away as the infinite depths below welcome the boy to absolute oblivion. "Here!" Mai offers, snatching him from the jaws of eternity as the light continues to fall and fall into the bottomless abyss below. Thrown upward, Rift palms a pillar of stalagmite as it tilts into the ravine, pushing off to maintain his ascent. Another helpful hand from Mai reveals her worried face as she tosses her companion higher. Now scrambling up the side of a tumbling slab of stone, he manages to leap back up to ground level as the grand hallway collapses completely.

Making the final push to the exit, all hope seems lost when another massive chunk of limestone crashes through the arcing path leading back down to the portal. The passage behind caves in as if it were built of glass, and the roaring sound of crashing rock and rushing water surrounds the boy. Far below the surface of the newly created lake, the stain of yellow sand glows faintly, beckoning Rift to hurry. Standing on the precipice, he cannot summon the willpower to make the dive, unsure if Mai is strong enough to pull him all the way through. Between the torrential rain and falling debris, the growing lake seems to rise up in front of him, ready to seize him in a suffocating embrace forever.

"Rift! Come on!" Mai pleads, her ghostly image standing atop the water for a moment, beckoning him toward the exit.

"I-I can't," he stammers, essentially reassuring himself as the darkening environment is far too deafening for his mumbling to carry.

"Rift! Please," she begs as their window for escape shrinks to nothing. "We'll make it! I promise!" She declares, desperately holding out a hand before vanishing once again. He hears her promise, though no amount of encouragement could ever convince him it is in his best interest. Still shaking with fear he leaps as far forward as he can, plunging into the water with incalculable angst. Already beginning to slow in his descent, Mai's firm grasp jerks him forward, soaring toward the exit with purpose. Debris smashes into the water all around him as they jet toward the only faint source of light remaining. Her grip slowly starts to relent, but they are on track to cover the distance long before her strength fails her. Suddenly, one of many massive pieces of earth drops directly upon what little of Mai's form is visible. Ramming into the side of the obstruction painfully, Rift twists and thrashes in the dark water, unable to determine what happened to his comrade. Desperation takes hold of his heart, but even so, he feels a more important urge to fight for her. She has carried him as far as she could, and giving up now would be nothing short of pathetic. Gathering what little resolve he is able, the boy grabs at the slick surface of the damnable boulder, clawing furiously as he gradually makes his way around. His need for oxygen reaching critical mass, he kicks off the stone, rocketing him forward as the boulder is blasted to pieces in his wake. The patch of yellow fills his vision as he finally succumbs to his burning lungs, exhaling violently as his senses grow fuzzy. Kicking and thrashing through the weightless darkness, the only thing he is certain of as consciousness leaves him is that he didn't make it.

## Bid for Power:

### My Fury Knows no Equal

The aroma of the siege drifts up the steep cliffs of Death Mountain, pleasing Ganondorf's senses. Though he is far out of earshot of the battle cries and screams, the distant fires do enough to ensure him all is going according to plan. King Bulbin is a useful tool, always ready for a good old-fashioned assault at the drop of a hat. He would lose scores of his kind, but they are worth less to him than the flies that circle his Bullbo. Spurring his dark steed onward, the king of thieves continues up Death Mountain Trail toward the always-present halo of clouds surrounding the volcanic peak. The sun has set beyond his home in the west, bringing a welcome shadow to the mountain. He arrives at the gates of Goron City without incident, and the pair of guards react to the dark figure's approach far too late. Apelike in physique, the Goron race is one of strength and perseverance, their hides composed of durable skin resembling stone. Dismounting his horse with a chuckle, Ganondorf struts toward the gate, cracking his knuckles as the guards prepare to defend their city.

Attacking simultaneously, one of the pair is immediately immobilized by a subtle flick of the dark lord's wrist. Blasting out of the ground beneath his feet, large chains of dark energy overtake the Goron like a heavy fishing net before falling back to the ground, the sheer weight of the tangled mess hopelessly restraining the warrior. Failing to notice his partner's imprisonment, the second guard rolls into a ball, rocketing toward the intruder like a deadly boulder. Leaping into the air, Ganondorf flips forward and stomps down upon the approaching antagonist, laying the mighty warrior flat on his face upon the mountain trail as dark electricity crackles over his defeated form. Seeing his comrade defeated so easily, the remaining guard increases his struggle to free himself from the dark shackles placed upon him, finally snapping one of the many chains and freeing his arm. Continuing forward at a casual pace, the dark lord opens a hand beside his waist, an influx of dark energy pouring into his palm as he walks. Shielding himself in vain, the remaining guard is brutally thrown into a wall of rock, obliterating the stone as if it were a castle of sand. Now feeling appropriately limbered up, Ganondorf blasts the city gates apart with a conjured force field, continuing into the city without opposition.

Goron City, usually covered with the rock-eating race from top to bottom, is oddly empty. A loud ruckus can be heard from the central nexus far below, the city composed of a multitude of levels cascading down to a clearing at the bottom. Expecting far more resistance, Ganondorf decides to remain in the shadows during his descent, curious as to what could be causing the primal shouts and cheers below. Passing mighty murals of Goron ancestry, the dark lord eludes another torch's glow, reaching an optimal vantage point. The entire city has gathered in a large circle around a fighting arena, shouting excitedly as two particularly large Goron battle in the center. The one holding the center of the ring is his target. Darbus, patriarch of the Goron tribe, is a massive individual and undefeated in the sumo ring. Knowing the former patriarch was entrusted with the medallion of fire, the king of thieves deduces the same must be true now. Prepared to intervene in the pathetic spectacle, he suddenly notices the challenger has the clear upper hand. A particularly large Goron in his own right, the contender is very unique compared to the rest of his race, encircling the battleground and shouting excitedly. He doesn't wear the traditional sumo loincloth, nor does he utilize the crouched down horse-stance to prevent being overtaken by a sudden attack. Instead he stands upright, his hands and forearms wrapped tightly with rope and held high, leaving his legs and body completely vulnerable. Darbus dashes forward to attempt a tackle, but the challenger knocks him off course with a rapid flurry of punches and elbows. Obviously enraged, the patriarch charges again only to meet the same end. Knocked to the ground by an extra powerful knee finding his chin, his opponent does not taunt or show any signs of cockiness or flair, remaining crisp and alert as he lets Darbus back to his feet. Shaking off the blow, the patriarch is upright in seconds, looking for another opening.

"You hit like your father," the patriarch taunts with a glare of contempt, spitting to the side after rotating his jaw. "Maybe you can dance for us after you lose!" He teases, feigning another takedown attempt. Carefully maintaining his distance, the challenger's eyes are like that of a hawk, seeing every insignificant movement and calculating his response. The crowd continues to be exceptionally energetic, no one able to give Darbus an actual fight for years. "What's the matter? Afraid to lock up with me? I'll put you on the ground so fast it'll make your head spin!" He declares, charging forward and grabbing for his opponent's legs. Tucking into a ball and rushing forward, he is confused to find his target eluding him once again, leaping into a brief backflip and landing on a single leg. Quickly crouching into a ball himself, the challenger bears down upon the unsuspecting Darbus. Not expecting the counter attack, the patriarch is caught off guard, scrambling to protect himself. A rapid flurry of jabs and uppercuts leaves Darbus shielding his face while backing up, the strikes visibly rocking the Goron's head backward. Changing up his combinations, the challenger throws vicious body strikes, forcing his opponent to lower his guard just in time to receive a brutal elbow to the temple. The onslaught continues, parting the crowd as Darbus is backed to the wall without an answer for the hurricane of blows hammering his form. Knowing he is moments from being knocked unconscious, he drops to a knee, slapping the ground three times with his open palm. The sign of surrender. The thunderous cheers are almost instantly cut short as Ganondorf grows tired of the exhibition, dropping into the center of the ring with laughter. The collective gasps quickly turn to flight as the entire tribe rapidly pours out of the area in fear. Stepping away from the defeated Darbus, the younger Goron begins to circle the newcomer, eyeing him carefully. Staring at the new patriarch with amusement, the dark lord waits until he circles too far from his fellow Goron before making his move. Blasting over toward Darbus at blinding speed, Ganondorf grabs him by the neck and lifts him overhead while the Goron attempts to pry his deadly grip loose.

"Stop!" The new patriarch commands, marching forward.

"Do not challenge him, Link," Darbus pleads, barely able to breathe in Ganondorf's iron grip. Temporarily confused by the young Goron's name, the king of thieves glares at him with hatred. His split lip and scarred face make it obvious he has led a rough life. The life of a fighter. The jagged rocks covering his back climb up and over his head in a mohawk, giving him the appearance of a rebel. The tribal tattoos coating his body are radically different from the Goron of this tribe, but the symbol of the Goron Ruby is proudly displayed on both arms. Turning his gaze back to the pathetic creature in his grasp, Ganondorf bellows a question.

"Are you in there, sage? How many must I kill for you to show yourself?"

"Drop him," Link states bluntly. Though he has been patriarch of the tribe for only a matter of seconds, he will not tolerate anyone bringing violence upon his people. Not even the dark lord himself. Turning to face him slowly, Ganondorf's face has changed in the seconds since he last looked upon him. Distorted by some manner of evil magic, his brow has sharpened, angling his eyes in a permanently evil scowl. His long nose has turned upward and shortened above his sharpened teeth, clamped like a livid vise. The figure inside the orb of flame has opened its arms, demanding the impudent Goron be dealt with. Ganondorf can feel the flame closing in around him, the horizon closing faster and faster, forcing him to make his choice. Will he submit to the figure in the orb, or stand against oblivion on his own?

"Drop him! Now!" Link demands once again, his voice gaining some base with the second declaration. Releasing his grasp, Ganondorf allows Darbus to fall to the ground beside him, choking for air as the dark lord stares daggers at Link. Climbing back to his feet, Darbus attempts to smile at his new patriarch when the back of a dark gauntlet smashes against his chest. Zapped into the wall as if struck by lightning, Darbus's limp form topples to the ground and twitches as random arcs of electricity jolt across his body. The attack was too fast for even Link to perceive, his heart sinking as the former patriarch lies inert at the warlock's feet. His face obscured with an involuntary mask of evil energy, the king of thieves has gone too long without fulfilling his need for slaughter. The thirst for power has overwhelmed his mind, locking out all reason and restraint. Standing his ground, Link slowly raises his unique guard, his lead leg bouncing rhythmically as he prepares for the worst.

"I see you," Ganondorf states slowly in a voice not his own. Link feels as if his wild eyes are piercing through him before the Gerudo blasts toward him in a whirlwind of dark energy. Dodging the first strike easily enough, Link is not prepared for the onslaught that follows. Able to change directions instantly, Ganondorf steps off a magic glyph where his target evaded him, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. An uppercut of extraordinary magnitude lands on the Goron's forearm as he manages to block the telegraphed attack. Still, the force throws him several levels higher in the city, landing heavily near the exit. Vaulting up the tall walls lining the multistoried complex, Ganondorf claws into the earth before kicking off each level, sprinting on all fours like an animal. Deciding the fight should move outside, Link knows the city will be destroyed at this rate, rolling away from the closing beast of a man.

The night is darker than he would prefer, the moon only offering a dim glow as the first clouds seen in months continue to climb through the sky. Unraveling from his rolling form a safe distance away, Link glares back at the entrance to the city, awaiting Ganondorf's next move. The quiet night becomes steadily interrupted by the sounds of tumbling gravel from all directions. A pebble bounces off the Goron's ankle, skipping up the hill and eventually through the city gates. A bad feeling creeping up his spine, Link rolls left just as a guttural shout of exertion sounds. The entire area shakes violently as a rolling wave of dark force splits the ground. The rumbling continues even after the attack has concluded, the aggravated mountain perpetuating the seismic activity. Rocketing forward with another ham-fisted attack, Ganondorf is taken by surprise when the Goron catches his wrist, landing a forward and immediate backward elbow strike to the Gerudo's head. The combo continues with a lunging punch to the torso, sending the warlock back a step before Link rolls forward into a heavy uppercut.

The blow rocks Ganondorf's head backward, but he keeps his footing, slowly lowering his chin to show the crazed smile plastered across his augmented face. Not yet discouraged, Link throws a quick one-two punch, but the dark lord catches each of his fists in turn. Merely attempting to intimidate the Goron with his crushing strength, Ganondorf is left in a momentary stupor when Link's rock-hard head bounces off of his own. The head-butt buys the Goron enough time to hop back a step, his rope-covered fists partially exposed as the makeshift gloves have begun to fray apart. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, the king of thieves glares at Link, now unwrapping his hands ceremonially. Sharp rocks line his arm from his knuckles all the way to his elbow, the jagged stone obviously deadly if competently wielded. The ground beneath their feet rumbles again, still upset by Ganondorf's earlier attack. Not at all afraid of the Goron's deadly fists, the Gerudo begins to charge another attack, the triforce upon his hand glowing brilliantly as a vortex of black and purple swirls into his clenched fist. A level stare emanates from Link's purple eyes, raising his arms in his foreign stance as the battle shifts toward the climax.

A roar bellows from the dark lord's lips as he lunges into a finishing blow. Dashing into an identical attack, the Goron hits Ganondorf's fist dead on, though the ample energy he's summoned works as a buffer between the two. Certain he will overtake the foolish warrior, the king of thieves continues to push forward as the cataclysmic power struggle radiates whips of black energy, slapping and slashing into the earth all around them. An eerie orange glow overtakes the battlefield, as each of the men continue to assert their strength. The death, torment, and destruction Ganondorf has brought upon the Goron people swells in Link's mind. His very exile an eventual result of the warlock's cruel actions. There will never be happiness. There will never be love or prosperity for his people if he cannot strike down the beacon of evil before him. Pieces of stone begin to chip off of his arm as the evil power seeps through his righteous fist. Death Mountain explodes high above them, more and more lava pouring down the mountainside and illuminating the dark night. The evil grin on the Gerudo's face spreads like a plague of smug satisfaction as his power slowly overwhelms the Goron. Knowing it is only a matter of time, Link feels his fist ready to give way at any moment.

Jolting forward as the Goron's fist relents, Ganondorf awaits the instant gratification of obliterating the defiant commoner when an exceptional pain arcs up his arm. Twisting his fist upward, Link alters the path of the dark energy while stepping into a forward elbow, landing the hardened rock square upon the dark gauntlet of his opponent. Before the dark lord can dial back his forward momentum, Link throws an additional left cross, knocking Ganondorf's fist aside as the Gerudo recoils in pain. The pig-like visage fades from the warlock's face, the pain jolting him back to his senses as if he's awoken from a dream. Wasting no time, the Goron pushes forward with two rapid uppercuts to the body, quickly winding up for a devastating elbow to the head. Within the dark lord's mind, he attributes the unexpected pain to the figure within the orb of flame. Moving so close did not grant him the unstoppable power he expected, and this realization has pushed him away. Moments away from knocking him unconscious, Link's arm suddenly stops just before impact.

Abandoning his thirst for power, Ganondorf returns to his cunning roots, anchoring Link's arm with a magic chain from behind. Confused by the drastic change in tactics, the Goron is quickly entombed in chains, earning the warlock a momentary reprieve. He'd surrendered himself to thoughtless rage, and nearly suffered defeat because of it. A mistake he does not intend to repeat. Crouching into a solid base, Link suddenly explodes with force, tearing through the chains and rolling toward his opponent to finish the fight. A furious jab, cross, and uppercut combination are dodged and batted aside with ease as Ganondorf returns to his original style of sudden, abrupt motions. The Goron does not relent, sweeping a low hook at the legs before rising with an uppercut. Leaping backward, the Gerudo is momentarily confused by the growing orange glow all around him. Realizing the employed tactic just in time, he summons a glyph between himself and the molten lava beneath his feet, pouring over the area as Death Mountain continues to erupt. Circling around the stationary Link, Ganondorf summons glyph after glyph, sprinting across the magical stepping stones until he is back on solid ground. Fed up with the state of the battle, he secretly begins condensing a healthy dose of darkness in his right hand for a final attack, a small orb of extraordinary power hovering in his palm behind his back.

The comforting warmth of lava creeps over the Goron's feet while he stares at the king of thieves with contempt. Had he managed to push him into the lava, the fight would be over, but the infamous pig proves far too observant. The occasional quiver shakes Ganondorf's right arm, the dark lord appearing to be concealing the pain from Link's earlier attack. The orange glow overtakes him completely and suddenly, he has a plan. His attack nearly ready for deployment, Ganondorf knows he cannot miss if he hopes to end this fight without taking further damage. The Goron begins to roll in a circle, gaining momentum and throwing lava in every direction. Realizing what he is aiming to accomplish, the Gerudo simply waits for the oncoming attack. Link barrels toward him like a fireball, lava coating his form and spewing everywhere in his wake. Closing in for the kill, the Goron unfurls with a scissoring strike, throwing lava both horizontally and vertically in a molten cross before attempting another combination. The lava passes through the warlock as if he weren't even there, and when Link's initial punch travels through the intangible image, he knows he's been tricked. The phantom Gerudo becomes an embrace of chains, immobilizing the Goron once again. Quickly shaking and thrashing himself free, Link has inadvertently discarded the lava upon his form, throwing the pathetic attempt at restraint to the ground with disdain. Spinning around he spots the king of thieves standing a short distance away.

"That all you've got?" Link asks with attitude, raising his guard once again.

"Foolish," Ganondorf mumbles under his breath, dashing forward. The Goron's jab is slapped aside and instantly countered by an electrified back fist. It is only now Link realizes the tables have turned. The dark lord has sacrificed his power for a drastic speed advantage. Another strike, another counter. A feign into an uppercut, and the sting of electricity is becoming too much to bear. Scouring his mind for a weakness, he realizes Ganondorf has only been using his left hand. Purposely throwing a telegraphed attack, he takes the vicious back-hand to the temple, but grabs hold of the Gerudo's wrist in the process. Winding up to cleave the warlock's head clean off, he is far from prepared when the king of thieves reveals his right hand. An explosion of energy hits Link in the chest like a ball of dynamite, sending him skipping along the lava-covered ground like a ragdoll. Ganondorf watches his defeated opponent collide with the mountainside some distance away, falling back into the lava lifelessly. Lying at the warlock's feet, a ghostly form awaits its execution, making no futile attempt to flee. The sage of fire had long since chosen Link over Darbus, but even so, his fate is to be destroyed at the hands of the dark lord. Allowing him no final words, Ganondorf crushes the sage violently, snatching away the medallion of fire as the lava creeps closer than he'd prefer. With one final glance, he eyes the fallen combatant, lava pouring over him like a river in slow motion.

"You fought well," he admits, though the battle put him behind schedule. "Such strength wasted in suicidal acts of valor. Pathetic." Medallion in hand he summons his horse, mounting and spurring the steed back down the mountain trail.

## Guiding Light:

### Darker Depths and Forgotten Phantoms

Vivid images of Bulbin charging across Hyrule Field rush through Zelda's mind as she commands her panicking people to move children into the castle and take cover themselves. Her breath leaves her completely when a volley of flaming projectiles soars over the tall walls surrounding the town. Burning arcs across the darkening skies over her kingdom, they trace a path to an explosive conclusion as several homes and shops are destroyed in fiery blasts. Nayru's visions continue to override her conscious thoughts, a collection of Bulbin assembling planks of wood into a bridge across the moat surrounding the town. Behind them, another group prepares to charge with a battering ram as the next attack from the catapults is nearly prepared. With no time to lose, the only instructions she can offer her Sheikah disciples are, "split up and help them!" Closing her eyes to concentrate, she murmurs a spell, blinking her atop the castle walls instantly. The catapult ropes snap in rapid succession, and the next wave of destruction is airborne in the distance.

Exploding long before clearing the walls, the projectiles hit strategically summoned barriers as the queen is determined to protect her town. Quickly realizing their long-range attacks are now failing to cause any damage, the Bulbin climb atop their hideous pig-like mounts, charging in from all directions. Archers far below fire volley after volley of arrows at the woman singlehandedly thwarting their attack, but the bolts twist and turn off course, missing Zelda by a wide margin every time. An inexplicable gust of wind swirls around the queen's form at her command, throwing projectiles aside like paper in a breeze. The ram hits the vertical drawbridge with a heavy crunch, but the thick logs show no signs of giving way anytime soon. Above the entrance, the few available guards fire arrows into the goblins handling the battering ram. Every time one of the horde is successfully dispatched, another promptly takes its place, failing to slow the assault in any perceptible way. Scouring the ground for strategic weaknesses, the queen summons a small fireball in her hand, casting it outward as if she were dropping a coin into a fountain. Able to control the magic missile long after it has left her grasp, Zelda guides it beneath the decrepit tree smashing against the gate. The hardly noticeable projectile suddenly expands violently, blasting the tree to splinters and obliterating the makeshift bridge the Bulbin had constructed in a scorching explosion. Satisfied with her defense thus far, the queen searches the shadowy span of Hyrule Field for King Bulbin, only just noticing how dark the night has become.

Without warning, a kunai screams past Zelda's ear, her intuition tilting her ever so slightly just before the attack could claim her life. The razor-sharp dagger slices through her once meticulously maintained hair, cutting off a significant tuft and thoroughly fraying her mess of dark blond hair. Turning to discover the source of the stealthy attack, the queen could not have guessed she would find a woman wearing the fused shadow, skillfully twirling another kunai on her finger. Various throwing weapons line her tan thighs and arms, from knives to shuriken to steel needles. Though she is clearly of some mixture of Gerudo descent, Zelda cannot help but notice something strange beneath her stoic stare and compulsive technique.

"You are one of the royals, correct?" She asks, standing casually but ready to launch another knife at a moment's notice.

"Who are you?" Zelda asks, careful not to lower her guard.

"I am called Less. I only want the Sheikah. Tell me where she is hiding and I'll call off the siege," she offers, seemingly genuine.

"Sheikah?" She asks, feigning ignorance. "You would assault my people chasing fairy tales?"

"Do not think me a fool," Less warns, her trigger finger becoming itchy. "The Sheikah have been connected to the royal family for centuries. You will tell me where she is, or you will die along with the rest of your people!" She commands, whipping her kunai into the stone at the queen's feet. Her speed and skill are formidably deadly, the available reaction time on Zelda's end intimidatingly minimal. Glaring expressionlessly despite the defiant attack, she considers her options, never flinching in the face of death.

"This Sheikah you speak of," she starts, trying to read her opponent. "She has wronged you in some way?"

"She murdered my sister, and she will pay with her life. If you're aim is to protect her, then you shall suffer the same fate," she cautions, irritated by the slow-paced dialogue. "Last chance, your highness. Where is she?"

"I am sorry for your loss, but," she starts, cut off by a torrent of projectiles. A brief flurry of shuriken twists and weaves off course, stabbing randomly into the stone behind their target. The brief gust of wind throws Zelda's tangled, uneven hair to the side, and a look of contempt overtakes her brow in the torchlight. Far below the siege continues, the Bulbin firing sporadic, flaming arrows as well as throwing bombs at the city gates, still holding for the time being. Sliding a hand behind her back, the queen summons a fireball as her blonde antagonist shows no signs of weakness or arrogance. Dashing forward for a more personal attack, Less is taken by surprise when her shoulder is grabbed roughly just before a ball of magic explodes against her chest, throwing her off the city walls like a ragdoll. The brief second of contact is like inhaling a toxic cloud of memories, Less's life fluttering through Zelda's mind like a blurry photo album flapping through its pages hurriedly. Protected by the fused shadow, Ganondorf's minion quickly recovers, kicking off the stone rushing past her just as another conjured fireball explodes in her wake. Soaring toward the teeming sea of goblins, she leaps off of a ladder being erected, her natural agility amplified ten-fold by her dark accessory. Gliding higher than Zelda's position, she uses the advantage to charge up a kunai with potent energy before throwing the deadly projectile downward. The piece of steel leaves her hand like a bolt of lightning, stabbing into the queen's thigh long before she can even blink in response.

Wincing in pain, Zelda grabs hold of the knife, instantly seeing her future if it remains where it is a moment longer. Gritting her teeth, she tears out the small kunai, throwing it away from herself as it explodes into a star of dark lightning and shrapnel. Several pieces rip her dress to shreds as her elemental defense is unable to push the absurdly fast projectiles off course. Dozens of ladders clank against the city walls as Less descends upon her with purpose. Whispering her incantation, the queen teleports to a nearby rooftop just as a pair of knives stab into her shadow, each of them exploding in turn before Less dashes through their wake and continues her pursuit. Inside the city gates, a sad collection of soldiers have gathered along with Zelda's disciples, preparing themselves for the coming battle. Displaying impressive agility, Sanzu ascends atop the town's perimeter after a series of wall-jumps, chopping down ladders with her chain-scythe before the Bulbin can finally breach the line of defense. Linu mows down scores of goblins via a rapid loading and firing technique with his slingshot alongside the guards firing arrows down into the sea of goblins. The bashing against the main gate begins to show signs of progress, but Boam stands ready to annihilate, his pair of intimidating axes dangling in each hand. Even Malune tensely clutches his blade, afraid to approach the psyched up warrior, preparing to enter a death trance. The ladders which remain intact spill dozens of the green-skinned thugs onto the town walls, the savages quickly descending into the streets of Castle Town. Leading a couple guards through the streets, Ashei continues to evacuate the houses nearest the violence, cutting down enemies rapidly with practiced swordplay as the goblin numbers multiply dramatically.

Another flurry of shuriken spins and slashes past Zelda, her evasive maneuvers doing just enough to keep her alive. Half of her lavish dress has been torn to shreds, her body riddled with minor nicks and cuts from the endless onslaught of flying metal. Able to move much easier in what is becoming more of a skirt, the queen leaps from rooftop to rooftop as storms of blades coat her every footprint. Sending her fireball spells backward with every leap, Zelda finally manages to catch the relentless woman descending, blasting her out of sight with the burning explosion just before she can land. The fused shadow emanates a dark, purple glow, an orb of absorption rendering the attack futile and showing the queen she will need a better plan, and soon. Dashing to another rooftop, she scans the ground for her opponent, ducking to the side just as another charged dagger zaps past her, blasting into pieces like a grenade once it has passed. Sprinting through the paved streets, Less appears and disappears between buildings, closing the distance between them quickly, but carefully. Realizing she intends to make the fight much more up close and personal, Zelda abandons her current element for a different sort of magic. Nayru's visions reveal to her Less's position, and after vaulting across several rooftops, she has reached the Central Square. Sensing the attack approaching, the queen tears across the open area, dive-rolling through the fountain as Less appears.

A flurry of spikes stream across the square, several stabbing into the fountain as Zelda flips back to her feet. A large shield of ice intercepts the rest of the needles, lowered slightly to reveal the queen holding the frigid defender as if it were weightless. Slicing down the length of the shield, a strait blade of frozen water slaps the collection of spines to the ground in a noisy procession, and with the showing of power, Zelda takes a defensive stance similar to that of her stone hero standing proudly over the battleground. An amused smirk steals over the blonde Gerudo's face for only an instant, but it is all the queen needs to see her nemesis beyond the pretty visage. The evil smile of the king of thieves spreads across the younger woman's face, and the illusion staggers the ruler of Hyrule momentarily. Having already charged a kunai behind her back, Less tosses the lightning bolt at her adversary, pleased when it embeds itself deeply in the conjured shield. The explosion sends shrapnel in every direction except the space beyond the shield, the ice absorbing the blow while retaining its shape. Growing frustrated by her long-range strategy failing to give her the upper hand, Less covers the distance to the fountain in only a couple steps, unsheathing her largest kunai for a melee assault.

Having predicted the inevitable charge, Zelda closes her eyes and concentrates on the fountain just as her foe hurdles the minor obstruction. A frigid blast sends obliterated bits of stone into the air, but more importantly, the meager amount of water pooled at the base. Splashing upon, and all around the agile woman in an artistic sphere, the queen's tactic works perfectly as all the water freezes and grows impossibly durable. Now suspended in an oddly shaped orb of ice and debris, Less thrashes the few extremities she is still able to move as her tattered opponent plays her trump card. Dropping her icy sword and shield, an outline of a glorious bow forms in Zelda's hand while an arrow of blinding light appears the moment the string is pulled taught. Her eyes wide with fear for the first time, Less can only cringe in anticipation as the holy projectile blasts through her cold prison, riding a purifying beam of light straight through her. Colliding with the brick wall of a store directly behind the defeated thief, the light arrow opens a portal to the Sacred Realm, the vacuum of sin pulling against Less's form aggressively. The tattered queen would love nothing more than to enjoy the brief moment of victory, but something urges her forward. Something pushes her to help the weakened girl, struggling to resist the slowly closing portal, hungrily pulling her in.

Back at the city gates, an unexpected torrent of reinforcements blast up and out of the sad remains of the town's moat. A legion of Zora warriors soar upward, each of them slashing an erected ladder in two with their intimidating glaives. The only remaining faction of the aquatic race residing in Hyrule, the Zora King's Guard push the entire goblin presence back, twirling their polearms in intimidating displays of honed skill. The mounted Bulbins are cleaved from the backs of their Bullbos effortlessly as the Zora continue to push outward. Abandoning their quest to climb the exterior walls, the teeming mass of goblins begin to converge upon the gates, corralled into a bottleneck by the imposing aquatic cavalry. As the raised drawbridge is finally beaten down, the castle guard as well as Zelda's disciples commence their final offensive, shooting and slashing down goblins by the dozen. Relieved he will get to see some action after all, Boam becomes a tornado of destruction, ripping through scores Bulbins in a rampage. Embedding a thrown axe in the back of a mounted archer, he leaps past the limp ranger, plucking his weapon free as he begins to ponder how his leader if faring.

The hungry torrent of light dismantles the sphere of ice and rubble almost immediately, forcing Less to hang on to what is left of the fountain's base for dear life. Just as the thief loses her grip on the fractured stone, a hand clasps around hers, keeping her from the swelling power of the interdimensional portal. The jarring visions seize hold of Zelda's mind once more, but the flailing girl's weakened state slows them to an observable rate. The entire kingdom is stained with blood and slaughter, bodies coating the ground surrounding the castle as far as the eye can see as the civil war rages on. Inside the castle, a beastly man with dark skin stalks the halls, and though she doesn't understand why, Zelda is terrified of him. Gerudo thieves dash from room to room silently, looting everything they can get their hands on as the dark man's eyes settle upon an inconspicuous door. The vision flickers and blurs momentarily, but returns with even more visceral sensations, the smells and sounds choking and blinding the breathless queen as she struggles to watch. The door is kicked off its hinges, and the man enters her father's chambers. The room is seemingly empty, but Zelda feels a sudden rush of adrenaline in her veins as a woman emerges from hiding and stabs the man in the back. A roar of pain is quickly followed by a contemptuous slap, throwing the woman to the ground as several thieves converge to the source of the commotion.

"We're leaving. Load what you can on the horses," he bellows after painfully plucking the knife from beneath his shoulder blade. A collective nod later, the thieves have dispersed leaving the man alone with the sobbing woman. Grabbing her by the hair he leads her to the large bed in the center of the room, throwing her onto the mattress angrily. It's now that Zelda sees it. That horrible smirk stretching across the Gerudo's face. Though the fight hasn't left her just yet, the familiar woman upon the bed stares up at the dark man through the blond locks concealing her face. Her blue eyes radiate the fear Zelda is feeling. The primal shriek of death pouring down the back of her neck as she cannot avert her eyes. Finally, the fear slowly fades, and those blue eyes morph into identical yellow ones upon the face of a girl straining to hang on. Snapping back to her senses, Nayru's chosen pulls Less closer, grabbing hold of the fused shadow and channeling energy into her hand. The golden triangle emits a brilliant glow just before a blast of light engulfs the dark relic, splitting the resilient armor just enough for the Gerudo girl to slip free. The ambition of the interlopers is sucked into the closing portal as Less falls to her knees in Zelda's arms. The torrential vacuum finally shrinks to nothing, a brief blip of light sealing it once more and returning the shop to normal. Staring into her drowsing eyes, Zelda doesn't know what to say, the vivid memory a permanent stain upon her mind. Suddenly shaking her head and returning to her senses, Less shoves the tattered queen away, scrambling back to her feet clumsily.

"This isn't over!" She shouts, her voice saturated with fatigue.

"Wait!" Zelda pleads, reaching out to her once again. "You're," she starts, unsure if she even truly believes what she is about to say. Dashing back a step, the woman throws three daggers into the ground in front of the queen. Confused by the horrible aim, Zelda feels as though she could kick herself, falling for the obvious ploy so easily. The daggers explode simultaneously with a loud popping noise producing a brief, blinding light. Though her vision returns quickly, it is far from quick enough, the Gerudo named Less nowhere to be found. The battle concluded, Zelda has no choice but to dash for the gate to determine the outcome of the larger war being waged for the town itself. A few of the citizens remain crouched inside their doorways, afraid to make the run for the castle amidst all the chaos. An encouraging gesture from their approaching ruler is all they need to finally make the journey. The younger children cry loudly despite the shushing adults hurrying them along, the citizens all but completely depleted of morale in these trying times. The main front has grown suspiciously quiet, the streets and alleyways empty other than the sporadic goblin corpses lying here and there. Reaching the main gate, she is greeted by a long, single whistle from Sanzu seated atop a destroyed house.

"What happened to you?" The sassy disciple asks with a sarcastic smile.

"Not now," Zelda sighs with aggravation, rolling her eyes. "What's going on up here?"

"Why don't you ask your man?" Ashei points out, cleaning the blade of her sword near the downed drawbridge. Only a dozen guards remain in the area, Malune directing several to treat the wounds of their comrades as well as their own. Linu and Boam wait to the left, arguing over who amassed the most kills, and marching into the torchlight, a man in green is dragging a massive object across a makeshift bridge. With no words to express her explicit glee, Zelda simply smiles warmly, grabbing her arm at the elbow instinctively as Link moves into view. Bobbing and twitching in his wake, King Bulbin has been beaten to a pulp, his thick, iron armor plagued with massive, fist-shaped dents. The golden gauntlet releases the single horn still attached to the goblin ruler leaving him where he lies while the hero steps over to his companion. A passionate kiss is further encouraged by a series of whistles and cheers from the small audience, each of the lovers losing themselves in the moment. Instantly overwhelmed with a bitter hatred, Navi drifts away to assess the damage done to the town, her dislike of the princess turned queen no secret to either of them. Finally backing away with an embarrassed smile, Zelda scoops her wild hair off her face and behind her pointy ears with a sigh. A raised eyebrow accompanied by a quick look up and down is met with a chuckle as Link's concern is understandable.

"What?" She asks with a smile, blowing a lose strand of hair off her nose. "Everything was under control." With a smile of his own, Link compassionately touches her cheek, content to simply be near her, and know she is alright.

"No you don't get half a point for dazing him!" Boam insists as the argument increases in volume.

"Fine, but I'm taking the ones that fell off their mounts," Linu shrugs, in high spirits after the successful defense. "One rock between the eyes and Bulbo become very unpredictable." The remaining goblin hoards have long since retreated back to the Bridge of Eldin without a leader, certain not to attack anyone for years to come after the overwhelming defeat. The good mood swelling amongst the ranks of the town's protectors vanishes from beneath them like a trap door when a massive explosion is heard from Kakariko Village. Instantly shooting each other a knowing glance, both Link and Zelda break into a sprint toward the drawbridge.

"Sword!" Zelda calls, noting the empty sheath on Link's back. Reacting quickly, Malune draws his blade, tossing it handle first to his queen who catches it without breaking her stride. Ocarina in hand, Link is already playing Epona's song as he runs, his trusty horse galloping toward him in seconds. "Ashei, take care of the castle," Zelda calls, spinning around to issue orders more clearly. "Linu, Boam, help the guards with clean up! Sanzu, treat the wounded! Malune, I want this town secure right now! Every entrance!" A collective salute signals her orders have been understood, and with that she turns to find Link leaping atop his horse in a fluid motion.

Clasping his hand, Zelda feels a blissful sense of nostalgia as he pulls her up for another adventure. Snapping Malune's sword into his sheath as she settles upon the saddle, Zelda loops her arms around her hero's waist as he spurs them forward. Desperately trying to enjoy the simple pleasure of riding away from her prison-like Castle Town, the queen's senses grow fuzzy as her mind gives in to an unrelenting vision clawing its way to the forefront. The storm of blood pouring down upon her in the middle of Hyrule field returns. Doubled over she fights her overwhelming thirst as long as she's able, but finally, her absurd desire overtakes her will as she arches her back and opens her mouth wide. The intensely cold, thick fluid fills her mouth instantly, and before she can break out of the daze, she has already been thrown from the saddle. Limping away, Epona seems reluctant to leave her comrade behind, Zelda's groggy vision taking in the situation gradually. Finally able to focus, she spots Link in his battle stance, an intense grimace stamped upon his face. Just before she can make out his opponent, a massive ring of fire erupts from the earth, sealing the combatants in an inescapable death match.

## Hylian Hero:

### A Link to the Past

"The end has come for you, void-walker!" Garo hisses with hatred. Two single-edged, strait blades slowly slide out from beneath his poncho on both sides of his form, stopping just above the waving tufts of dying grass. Catching the briefest glimpse of the ninja's hands, Link sees they are wrapped in the same disgusting cloth as his legs and feet. The intense blaze burning all around them illuminates the dark night, the moon having completely vanished behind the approaching curtain of clouds. Buying time to get a feel for his newly acquired sword, Link gives the blade a quick twirl as he begins to circle the circumference of the ring. The weapon feels heavy in his hand. Much heavier than the blade of evil's bane. Forged in the foundries of the castle, it is identical to his recently broken sword in function, but thoroughly eclipses the quality. Metal of any respectable caliber has all but vanished after so many years of civil wars and petty squabbles, but the guard captain's sword will have to do. Unable to land the rapid, disabling blows the Master Sword provides, he will have to rely solely on technique to gain the upper hand. A concept his foe is undoubtedly counting on. The dim, green eyes beneath the dark, brown hood watch the hero's every movement, never straying, and never blinking. Somewhere behind him, Link hears Zelda yell something indistinguishable behind the roaring wall of flame. Before he can decipher the words, Garo has grown tired of waiting. "Prepare yourself!"

Leaping into the air, Garo dives upon Link in a crescent, his unnatural movement seeming to defy common laws of physics. A rolling somersault, gaining momentum as he tumbles, and ending in an X slash. Bouncing off his shield with an expected amount of force, Link blocks the strike easily, back-flipping away instead of countering. He has yet to find a comfort level with his blade assuring enough to merit a counterattack. With an opponent as confident as this ninja, it would be unwise to reveal even the smallest opening in his defense. Completing the slash, Garo rushes forward, each of his blades nicking against the ground before he twirls into a powerful spin-attack. The force from the blow throws Link back a step, the brief whirlwind visibly affecting the grass beneath his assailant's feet. Dipping forward, the hero's thousands of swordfights allow him to predict most attack transitions, and his current foe is no exception. The ninja arcs both blades overhead, a foreseeable attempt to obtain a power position for a debilitating strike. With a perfectly timed step, Link thrusts his blade through Garo's torso just before the ninja's attack hits nothing but earth. Spinning past his opponent's robe, the Hylian tears his blade out aggressively, freezing in a victory pose with his sword pointed strait forward. The battle was brief, but necessarily so. Kakariko Village needs his attention sooner rather than later.

"Impressive," Garo admits, rising from his kneeling position with an audible smirk. Scrambling back a few steps, Link only now notices his blade is devoid of blood, though his counterattack struck true. Slowly turning to face him, the ninja begins walking toward the hero, his swords dangling at his sides in a signature fashion. "Unfortunately, they will build no more statues," he states plainly as the Hylian draws his bow. Squaring up the shot in a heartbeat, his is not discouraged when Garo dips left, leaving only a shadow of himself to receive the arrow. "They will sing no more songs," he continues, drawing closer. Another arrow screams across the short distance, missing the target once again as the robe dips to the right like a cloth ghost suspended by a string. "Your path of destruction ends to-," he pauses with an irritated grunt. Skillfully twirling his blades overhead is enough to scare the pesky Sheikah off his back before she can remove her deeply embedded dagger. The ninja's swords scissor together behind him, catching the blade between them before he aggressively flicks his wrists outward, launching the dagger out of his back and into the dark night. Unconcerned with the success of her attack, Sheik dances around the circumference of the ring methodically until she has reached Link's side.

"You alright?" She asks, only glancing at him for a moment before returning her eyes to the angry enemy before them. "Where did he come from?"

"We're not sure ourselves, but he really hates you, Link," Navi answers with an air gallows humor.

"I saw foreign lands when I touched him. He's so full of hatred I don't know how he can even form sentences," she declares with a hint of fear. "He's a killer, Link," she reveals, the thousands upon thousands who have fallen to his blade flashing through her mind. Women, children, animals, it clearly makes no difference to him as the horrifying visions remain stained on her subconscious. "It's all he is. He only killed out of necessity once, but that was a long time ago."

"So how do we hurt him? He's not human," Navi points out as Garo continues his slow march toward the trio.

"Let's find out," Sheik grumbles, tired of waiting. Dashing left while she goes right, Link waits for her signal before commencing any sort of offensive. Quickly transforming back to normal in a rush of light, Zelda throws a ball of fire in the ninja's direction, expecting his only weakness to be magic related, though she has no way of knowing for certain. Making no attempt to avoid the attack, Garo unexpectedly screams in pain when the ball erupts into an inferno, wrapping his robe in intense flame. Thrashing about for a moment longer, he suddenly halts his movements completely. A maniacal laughter echoes across Hyrule Field as the ninja slowly absorbs the fire into himself, a blinding orange glow emanating from beneath his hood. Suddenly spinning to face the confused hero, Garo takes a deep breath, like a dragon preparing to cook its dinner.

"Watch out!" Navi warns, prompting Link to crouch behind his shield. A tornado of focused flame blasts from the ninja's concealed face, nearly knocking the cringing hero over with the force alone. As the torrent subsides, Link is forced to drop his shield, the red-hot metal already having singed his arm through his gauntlets. Wasting no time, Garo leaps at him once again, eager to take advantage of his lessened defense. Switching to a two-handed style, Link parries the onslaught of attacks with some difficulty, but even so, he can tell the ninja aims to wear him down as opposed to besting him. Garo's style is every bit as unremarkable as it is relentless. The hero has stricken down countless foes utilizing the same tired techniques, but the ninja doesn't offer the same openings. His arms do not tire and slow at the proper points for a counterattack. It is now that Link sees Garo for what he is. Not an indestructible machine or a masterful swordsman, but an undead warrior with an eternal grudge. A mere vessel powered exclusively by hatred and willpower.

"Can you feel the walls closing in around you?" Garo asks, meticulously slicing and stabbing, waiting for the opportune moment to strike the hero down. Two quick parries on his left, one on his right, then an overhead twirling attack buys Link another moment as he continues to backpedal. The ninja will never tire, and he will not stop until the Hylian's arms grow too weak to swing a blade. "Can you feel it pressing against your chest? The air being forced from your lungs?" He continues to taunt, relishing in the crescendo building toward his victory. Quickly growing overconfident, Garo lets a swing linger a second too long, his chest vulnerable for only a moment. A vicious stab rams all the way through him, Link's sword piercing out the back of the ninja's robe. "Will you admit it to yourself?" He asks, after a grunt of exertion from the would-be deathblow. "Once you've fallen, and cannot protect your woman from my wrath." He declares, whipping both swords upward in an attempt to cleave the hero's hands off with the last word. Reaching back in after the near miss, Link rips his blade back out of Garo's chest, barely managing to deflect the next attack. "Will that fearlessness fade from your eyes? Will it," he starts, only just noticing the gradually building whirlwind behind him.

A bold, horizontal slash clips the neckline of the zombie's robe just before he clashes both swords atop Link's raised blade, then lands a brutal front kick to Link's stomach, throwing the hero backward and onto his face on the dry ground. Spinning around to discover the source of the wind, Garo's concern lessens when he finds Zelda at the center of a bluish-green orb, channeling her elemental power into a focused attack. The consistent wind billowing against his large poncho, the ninja awaits the inevitable attack with no fear of the outcome. Seconds later, Zelda's eyes lock onto him in a furious glare, her cupped hands near her stomach slowly separating as the preparations are completed. With a scream of exertion, she unleashes the storm, a destructive blast of wind blasting the ring of fire away and tearing grass from the earth in a large radius around her. Not expecting the discharge to be quite so potent, Garo is thrown into the darkness of Hyrule Field with a deep grunt. Immediately dashing to Link's side, Zelda finds him weary, but far from finished as he climbs back to his feet.

"I fear I must bring this battle to an end," a voice whispers in the wind. Treading on shadows, Garo moves without sound or essence, intending to deal the final blow to his prey. Standing back to back, both Link and Zelda scour the darkness, preparing themselves for the inevitable sneak attack. Though her senses are operating on a wholly different level than those of her companion, the queen finds herself unable to sense the soulless antagonist at all. Without warning, a translucent pane of glass forms beside one of the torches illuminating the drawbridge in the distance, hovering at just the right angle to reflect the light. Appearing like a tumbling wave of conjured windows, more ethereal mirrors spawn in rapid succession, reflecting and amplifying the meager amount of light. In seconds, half of Hyrule Field glows as if the sun has suddenly leaped over the horizon. Confused and visibly infuriated by the bizarre magic, Garo is revealed a short distance from his prey. Stranger still, Geist approaches from the west, chugging a bottle of potion as he stumbles closer. Watching the spectacle in wonder, the three warriors stand stupefied as the reaver begins to whistle in short succession as if he were calling a dog.

"Alright, in you go," he commands as if his desire should be obvious. Holding his empty bottle outward, Link sees he is gesturing for Garo to enter the soul trap of his own accord. A bold, yet moronic taunt certain to get him killed.

"What mockery is this?" The ninja demands, leaping at the bumbling fool aggresively. Without a second to react, both Link and Zelda can only watch in horror as the drunken wanderer meets Garo's blades. A lightning-fast strike smashes the bottle to pieces, prompting Geist to stare at his emptied hand disappointedly. Crossing both arms, the ninja intends to cleave his head completely off when another conjured mirror appears between the two of them, reflecting a blinding beam of light directly into Garo's eyes. "Ahhhhhrgh," he groans, his rage increasing exponentially as the wanderer saunters away, avoiding the ninja's blind flurry of swings.

"Are you crazy?" Zelda cannot help but ask as he approaches. Directly behind him, the robed zombie has regained his vision, and has begun to shake with rage.

"What are you on about? You can't kill 'em with elements you know," he points out, stumbling a step as he turns to face the charging ninja. Quickly reaching into a pocket inside his coat, the reaver produces a small seed, dropping it onto the ground before turning back to face the dumbstruck duo. "You should get a kick out of this one," he smiles, lifting his eyebrows with excitement. A deep growl signals Garo's approach, but the moment before he leaps into his strike, a Deku Baba bursts from the ground, snapping at the zombie hungrily. Not expecting such an unorthodox trick, Garo's reflexes still prove a nuisance, dodging the snarling jaws with ease. Ducking forward, he lops the plants head off with a single stroke before standing upright and deciding how he would prefer to murder the ghost hunter.

"If you're trying to make him angrier, you're succeeding," Zelda points out, preparing to defend herself.

"No worries, love," Geist chuckles, relaxing as if he were about to watch a performance. "Got these seeds from the Deku king himself," he boasts, patting his coat pocket. "You haven't got these have you? Deku Hydras," he explains, eyeing the headless stem with anticipation as he throws his arms over the shoulders of his self-declared allies. Immediately bucking them off, both Link and Zelda eye the peculiar wanderer as he is only temporarily disappointed by the lack of trust, straitening his coat in a futile attempt to remain modest. Truly taken by surprise the second time around, the ninja beheads another sprout as two of the hungry plants burst from the single stem. A warm splatter of saliva slaps against Garo's robe before he executes the second carnivorous sprout. Immediately forced to leap back a step, the livid zombie narrowly avoids the torrent of snapping jaws when four heads replace the severed pair. "Hahaha! Look at him!" Geist laughs, prodding Link with an elbow as he continues to enjoy the show.

"Enough!" Garo bellows, realizing he is being exploited for sport. A distinct rumbling sounds from beneath the earth, and moments later the ground beneath the four headed monstrosity begins to crack and split apart. A massive plume of fire engulfs the summoned foliage, disintegrating the screeching plant instantly. Lowering his head, the ninja has clearly had enough of Geist's mockery and games, marching toward the reaver with slaughter in his eyes.

"Oi, oi, oi!" Geist shouts, holding out his arms to express his disapproval. "Not fair!"

"I know who you are," Garo reveals, standing tall and ceasing his approach for the moment. "What you are." Suddenly freezing in place, the reaver's expression grows deadly serious as he stares at his shrouded rival. "Fate would have the last of the Ikana fall at the hands of the Garo. A fitting end."

"Right. So the gloves are coming off then? I hope you've got more than those butter knives in your burqa you mummified twit." Geist asserts, holding his level stare.

"You would mock me as your people mocked the Gods," the ninja points out, growing almost cavalier. "You see why it was so easy for them to exterminate you." The last line stabs Geist somewhere deep beyond his flesh, his expression twitching in a momentary submission to anger. Noting he has finally managed to get under the discourteous Ikanian's skin, Garo decides the time has come to play his trump card. After a deep breath, Geist addresses the duo behind him.

"Stand back. This ain't your fight, yeah?" He demands with a wholly different tone than they have grown accustomed to. Heeding his words, Link glances at Zelda, seeing she intends to do the same. Slowly backing away, they are not prepared for the ninja to attack so suddenly. Flipping high into the air, Garo's form explodes with shuriken, hundreds of the small metal stars blasting in every direction and obliterating the amply illuminated setting Geist had created. The heroes of Hyrule blink out of sight as the reaver is left in the deadly darkness. Lifting his single exposed palm, the snakelike, tribal tattoo weaving down the Ikanian's arm begins to glow, and from his hand, a spectral ball covered with small spikes assimilates.

"You are the final remnant of a disease, boy," Garo growls, becoming one with the darkness. The spiked ball in Geist's hand resembles what one might find at the end of a morning star or flail, and channeling his potent magical reserves, dozens more of the ethereal projectiles begin to pour from his upturned palm like a frothing faucet. "The Garo are the chosen ones. The cure to your infection, and even in death, you will find no respite from us." The faintly glowing orbs spilling from the reaver's hand spread out in every direction, rolling into organized lines and establishing a perimeter. Continuing to spawn more and more of the sentinels, Geist arranges them in long columns, hovering a set distance apart from each other, and slowly rotating his form like a carnival ride at midnight. Now completely surrounded by the dimly lit runways, the ghost hunter is prepared for anything the ninja might attempt. "You will join your ancestors this night," Garo adds, prompting Geist's vision to wander to the lantern hanging from his waist. Their endless banter is enough to drive a man mad, but their voices have grown silent for now, the contained ghosts swirling complacently in their tiny confinement.

Suddenly, a line of the spiked balls begins to rapidly vanish one at a time. Ting, ting, ting! The ninja's blades eat through them as if they were being fed into a shredder. Spinning around, Geist begins to summon the remainder of his projectiles toward himself, the orbs sporadically rotating his form like a collection of planets circling a star. Ting, ting, ting, ting! The lone noise in the dark night continues and increases in momentum. Close enough to see brief glimpses of slicing blades and billowing cloth, the ghost hunter attempts the kill. A half dozen of the glowing projectiles spiral around his outstretched arm and spread outward, forming a loosely knit sphere around the approaching foe. The second they've reached the optimum positioning, Geist closes his fist, prompting them to mash together like a three dimensional guillotine. The ethereal orbs impact nothing but each other at the center of the trap as Garo briefly enters the shadows to emerge behind his opponent. Turning on his heels, the reaver launches another swirl of the deadly spiked balls, but they spread into the darkness, failing to impact anything at all. Beginning to understand the game the zombie intends to play, Geist decides he must end the fight as quickly as possible. Pulling his solar system of translucent spheres toward himself, the ghost hunter abandons his attempt to seek the ninja out of the darkness. The orbs mesh together in an illuminated shell, surrounding Geist completely save for directly in front of him. An instant later, Garo takes the bait appearing from nowhere and stabbing through the only opening in the reaver's defense. Slamming the shell shut at the last moment like a clam clamped around a pearl, the ninja's swords are caught in a bear trap of sorts.

"Gotcha," Geist mumbles with a smile. The protective shell explodes in every direction, and to the ghost hunter's delight, the pair of swords fall to his feet. A distant rumbling confuses the Ikanian in his moment of victory, but even so, he manages to react in time. A mighty column of fire erupts where he stood seconds ago, launching the ninja's swords into the air where Garo promptly collects them in a stylish somersault. His robe ablaze, the zombie descends upon his prey until the instant he has absorbed the flame completely, vanishing into the darkness in the blink of an eye. Caught off guard, Geist stumbles back a step as the assassin seems to teleport behind him whirling into a vicious string of attacks. Gradually summoning his orbs back to him, the reaver launches the swirling projectiles at his opponent five and six at a time. Spinning and twirling his blades between attacks, Garo deflects the pesky projectiles like angry swarms of bees meeting a ceiling fan, always moving forward with the intent of wearing his antagonist down. Deflecting another torrent of flying orbs, the ninja dips in for the death stroke.

Slicing clean through Geist's torso, the only lingering concern perplexing the zombie is the ease with which he cleaved the man in two. Without warning, three of the spiked spheres still lingering nearby smash together on one of the ninja's wrists, the other quickly suffering the same fate. Inadvertently dropping his swords, Garo is pulled into the air by the crushing handcuffs, quickly thrashing himself free from their confines. An instant later, a dozen more of the deadly orbs tightly constrict around his waist like a barbed belt, holding him in place high off the ground. Below him, his rival's image seems to bend before vanishing as Geist opens a conjured mirror as if it were a doorway, stepping into place where his reflection suffered a fatal blow. His arm still glowing brightly, he holds up his hand, preparing to execute the relentless ninja.

"This isn't over!" Garo roars, his hands burning as he attempts to free himself from his mystical belt. His robe begins to singe and melt away as if the tightly constricting spheres were coated with acid. "You think you've won, but—" With a twist of his wrist, Geist closes his palm and looks away as his ethereal weapons spin in a steadily tightening circle ripping through the ninja's body like a glowing chainsaw. Tumbling back to the ground in two halves, the zombie has finally met his end. The first glimpse of dawns light crawls into the horizon as Link and Zelda rejoin their unlikely ally. Clawing at the earth and eventually righting himself, Garo's speeches have yet to end. Quickly grabbing an empty bottle from his coat and summoning another sphere to his palm, Geist prepares to finish him.

"Don't know when to quit do you?" The reaver asks, stepping forward. Quickly cutting him off, Link holds up a hand before crouching down to listen to the ninja's final words. In his experience, the Garo tend to offer critical advice in their final moments.

"If I fall, ten shall take my place. We will always hunt you, reaver," he reveals, eyeing Geist hatefully. "And you, void-walker. You are this worlds undoing. The goddesses play a dangerous game," he pauses, struggling to speak. "Everything has changed. The time of heroes has passed. When those you wish to save need you most," he starts, his tone turning almost compassionate as he eyes Link. "You will fail." Taking no heed to his words, the hero is only affected by the genuine tone radiating from the fallen warrior. Even if his words are meant to disorient or discourage, there remains a certain degree of truth behind it all. A truth he simply cannot grasp just yet. Clutching a hand to his chest, the ninja offers one final phrase. "And so I die, leaving no corpse... That is the way of the Garo," he concludes with a sinister tone.

"No!" Zelda breathes in the critical instant, extending her hand. A colossal explosion of flame envelops the northern end of Hyrule Field, reaching all the way to the Castle Town walls. The firestorm quickly subsides, revealing the barren wasteland the ninja has created. The grass lies upon the bare earth, black and singed in a massive circumference surrounding ground zero. The faint light of dawn only serves to somewhat illuminate the dark clouds overhead, the ample destruction wrecked upon central Hyrule by the failed siege, and now the fallen Garo's suicide. Lowering her palm, Zelda's protective barrier dissipates, the blast never touching the tired trio thanks to the queen's quick reflexes. With a subtle sigh, Geist starts southward.

"There goes my payday," he mumbles, his hood climbing up over his head within a precise gust of wind as he scratches at the stubble beginning to mar his face.

"Hey," Zelda starts, perplexed by the wanderer's actions. "You're leaving?"

"No tears, love," he replies, turning to smile beneath the large fangs of his Wolfos hood. "You heard the spook. Best to keep moving. Take care of yourself gorgeous. You too lucky charms," he concludes, lazily lifting a hand as he turns away and departs.

"He's right," Navi chips in, drifting east. "Besides we still need to get to Kakariko." With a brief gasp, Zelda realizes she is right. Any number of things could have happened while they were distracted by the ninja. Breaking into a sprint, Link knows Epona will have headed south to steer clear of danger. The short trek to Kakariko Village is nothing to summon her over, and after a fast-paced jog, they've reached the village entrance in no time. Climbing the old steps into the mountain shrouded village, the group hears thunder in the distance. A collective gasp freezes each of them in place when the destruction comes into view. The collection of shops and houses lie in ruins. Debris coats every alley and walkway, the brick, and wood, and glass cast aside as though a giant ransacked the area in search of something. Moving into town, Link notes the landmark windmill still stands, but barely so, only one of the four fins still dangling from the severely damaged structure. Somewhere nearby, a girl can be heard crying weakly, prompting Zelda to teleport to a higher vantage point. The well in the center of town is now a massive crater. An ugly, dark ravine adding to the desolation that has become Kakariko. Searching for the queen, Link soon spots her comforting young Luda who sits next to her father's corpse. Renado, the universally respected shaman lies inert, undoubtedly struck down in a foolish attempt to protect the village.

"Hey, isn't that," Navi starts, grabbing Links attention. Starting up the Death Mountain trail, the boy in black he fought only a day ago glances over his shoulder to realize he has been spotted. "Link, be careful. You remember he," she starts, cut off by an angry war cry. The hero's tired form instantly finds its second wind, his thighs pushing off the cracked stone walkway with untapped strength as he charges through the village. Drawing his hookshot, he shoots one of the few buildings still intact, soaring across the bleak environment with vengeance in his eyes. Not seeming to want a fight, Rift begins to run up the trail, fleeing the scene of the crime as quickly as he is able. Kicking off the corner of the house, Link gains even more momentum after shooting the windmill, tearing the hook free once he has found his ideal trajectory. A chain spears across Rift's vision, and before the boy can react, his neck hits the metal like a clothesline. Dropping into the narrow passage aggressively, Link smashes the rocky earth with a hammer-fist, narrowly missing Rift as he rolls to the side. Dashing forward with another punch, Link's hopes are realized as the boy attempts to block the attack. A mighty clang sounds as the Hylian's fist bounces off the boy's crossed forearms, throwing Rift into the wall of the canyon forcefully.

"Been working out?" Rift nervously jokes while shaking his vibrating arm, ducking to the side at Mai's command as Link bashes the wall with another furious punch. Quickly realizing he has nowhere to run, the boy skips back a step before taking his battle stance. Taking significantly longer than he should, Link slowly pulls his fist from the mountain wall, the entire section cracking apart with deep crunching noises. Finally realizing what he is up to, Rift must leap completely out of the canyon as the Hylian rips a colossal chunk of rock out of the mountainside, then launches it in the boy's direction. The boulder misses its mark, smashing to pieces after destroying what is left of the gate leading back into the village. Seeing his foe has significantly increased his agility, Link charges back into the village at ground level, carefully monitoring the boy's location.

"We need to get out of here," Mai instructs, sounding very concerned. "He's much stronger than before."

"No, I'm sure it's just you," Rift quips, feeling oddly sarcastic today as he lands on a ruined rooftop, searching for his assailant below. Without warning, a gigantic piece of stone pulled out of the windmill smashes up through the building at an angle. Leaping to the side just before being crushed like a fly, Rift still cannot locate his amplified antagonist. The horrible sound of a reeling chain fills his ears, and before he can react, Link swoops by, grabbing hold of his ankle as he passes. Reaching the mountainside the hookshot is anchored to, the Hylian swings the boy like a ragdoll, violently bashing him into the rock repeatedly. Barely able to absorb the impacts with his gauntlets, Rift manages to kick his leg free, tumbling back to the ground with Link in hot pursuit. Powering up for the finishing blow, Link sees his enemy will be unable to evade the coming attack. Soaring downward, he trails the boy by a negligible margin, winding up to smash him into the ground the instant he lands.

"Now!" Rift cries just before impact. An image of Death Mountain appears beneath the boy, starkly contrasting the smooth section of recently relocated wall surrounding it. Falling through the portrait, Rift vanishes completely as Link hits the spot where the portal rested only a moment ago. A shockwave of force ripples the earth around him as if it were a pool of water, but his target has disappeared. Realizing he must have used some manner of magic to ascend the trail, the enraged Hylian begins to give chase.

"Link! Wait!" Zelda cries from below. Searching the area he spots her holding someone next to the crater at the village's center. Taking one more moment to consider chasing the boy, he stands idle, cracking his knuckles with hesitation. In a moment of uncharacteristic anger, the hero feels a need to chase the culprit, Garo's warning of failure still drifting through his subconscious. "Link! Let him go. Please," she cries, coursing him to finally descend back into the village. Rounding a large pile of obliterated stone and wood, he spots the old and fragile Impa lying in the queen's arms. Rushing to her side, he curses himself for even deliberating whether or not to chase the boy.

"Our hero has arrived," Impa starts with a tired smile. Clearly on her last leg, she speaks slowly and meticulously to be certain her words are understood. "I have watched over her my entire life," she imparts, touching Zelda's cheek tenderly. "I bequeath that duty to you now," she instructs, pointing at Link's sad visage. "Do not fault the boy. I saw him clearly. He tried to help before he left," she reveals with a nasty cough. "Ganondorf has brought this horror upon us. He's killed the sage of shadow. I could not protect him from that monster's wrath."

"It's okay, Impa," Zelda attempts to assure.

"No," she sternly interjects. "You were right. Young Sanzu was ready. I was foolish not to send the sage to her. Now all is lost," she concludes with another coughing fit. Dark blood leaks from the corners of her mouth as she struggles to communicate her final thoughts. "Ganondorf will not be imprisoned or banished. He must be destroyed. You must find a way, Link," she sighs, her muscles suddenly relaxing. "Find... a... way." Fighting the urge to sob, Zelda's tears flow just the same. A loud thunderclap sounds overhead, and Link tilts her mess of hair into his shoulder as it starts to rain. Stroking her shoulder lovingly, he doesn't realize it is his memories that comfort her far more than his physical embrace. Endless instances of heroics pour into her mind, and more importantly, the utter absence of fear. A bolt of lightning streaks across the sky, and after a few more seconds, the queen decides she has no more time for mourning.

"Talk to me, Ashei," she commands, rising to her feet. Certain she had approached undetected, Ashei reluctantly steps out of the remnants of an old house to converse.

"Castle Town is secure. The survivors have all been moved to the castle and every last soul has been accounted for. The rest are cleaning up while they await your orders," she reports, a lingering compassion reflected in her eyes. Caring little for politics, Link glances down at Impa once more, recalling his completion of her training. The silver earring he wears to this day, his secret certification of respect from the Sheikah. Another clap of thunder sounds, and a glowing form catches his eye. A golden wolf seated amongst the debris stares at him with its single red eye. The murmur of conversation as well as the increasing sound of rainfall fades away as he is transported to the familiar training ground of translucent white surroundings. Standing tall with his sword speared into the earth before him, the Hero's Shade rests his shield and sword hand atop the handle. An outdated set of golden armor hangs upon his ghostly form, broken and tarnished beyond repair. With no interest in learning battle techniques at such a time, Link immediately turns to leave.

"Hold," the ghost commands, his voice much more stern than in previous encounters so many years ago. A deep breath later, Link turns to face the spirit with an irritated gaze. "I've nothing more to teach you in terms of combat," he reveals, his emotionless visage still as a statue beneath his horned helm. "However, I've still one final lesson, saved until it became essential for you to remain upon the proper path. First, I must tell you a story," he continues, briefly glancing down to collect his memories. "Many years ago, a young King Harkinian ordered the Knights of Hyrule to spearhead the defense of a coming assault. He'd been informed of an ambush from the north, and had no intention of seeing his people trapped on the front lines. One of these knights had guarded doorways for too long. Longed to tell his loving wife tales of strength and victory. He'd stood idle day after day despite his excelling training, and the terrible state of the civil war. He pleaded to join the offensive in hopes of seeing glorious combat at the king's side, but he was ordered to stay behind. I was that knight," he reveals, the statement radiating regret and remorse. Drawn into the story slowly, Link listens with a much more captivated expression as the apparition continues. "Our forces marched north while I was left to watch the western front. Frustrated with rejection, I failed in my duty. Those who would take advantage of such a situation arose from the desert. A rabble of thieves," he adds with a sad chuckle. "I could not have imagined the attack would be so vast in scale. I lost count of the dozens I cut down early on. I finally had my story, but I lost everything to obtain it," he pauses, the painful memories beginning to affect him. The only thing still binding him to the physical world clearly being regret, with every admission, the phantom fades imperceptibly.

"They took the town in mere hours. I sent my wife east on horseback through the fires of war with my infant son, but I had no way of knowing if they ever reached safety. I was wounded defending the castle gates. Managed to retreat to the castle gardens, but it was there I fell," he nods, remembering the battle clearly. "I tell you this, my story of disgrace, for a simple reason. It takes but one act, one miniscule moment without valor, to destroy everything you've ever stood for. I possessed the blood of a hero charging through my veins, but my fate was never to be the slaying of a grand evil. No matter how badly I craved it. My purpose was the very same as all who came before me. It is the same as your purpose now. Mine may have been left unfulfilled in life, but perhaps in death I could still realize my responsibility. I release my bindings to this world with this knowledge I impart to you. Your sword is nothing more than a tool to build a better world. It is your choices that truly matter. Live with honor, fight with valor, and die without regret. A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage. Never forget," he declares, his appearance all but faded completely. "Farewell, my son. We will not meet again."

The glowing white atmosphere fades slowly as Link's fuzzy vision takes a moment to adjust. The rain has increased significantly, the water rushing down from the mountainside pouring into the giant chasm at the center of Kakariko. Standing in a stunned stupor from the torrent of information, Link fails to hear the voices calling his name.

"Link! What's wrong?" Zelda asks, her disciple long since dispatched for more reconnaissance.

"Hey! Listen!" Navi calls, trying her hand at grabbing his attention. Finally coming to, the hero turns to stare at Zelda with a very unusual expression.

"You alright?" She asks, stepping closer and touching his cheek. The look in his eyes suggesting he has yet to return to his senses completely. "I need to get back to the castle, but Ganondorf is after the sages. I'm sure he'll head for the forest next. You've got to find Saria before he does."

## The Empty Handed:

### Some Truths Remain Unspoken

"Are you okay?" Mai asks, laying her hand on Rift's shoulder as her upper half drifts into the visual spectrum. Lying on his back upon the rocky ground, the boy's thoughts return to the cove beneath the temple of water. He remembers the darkness. He remembers the fear, the feeling of certain death all around him. The sensation of impossible warmth pulled him from the brink. The feeling he thought was only possible in his mother's arms, until now. Choking to life he felt Mai's body pressed against his, resuscitating the half-drowned boy she'd just pulled from a watery grave. Straining to breathe, she held him close, squeezing his head against her bosom until he regained his senses. Now, on the dark trail leading up the mountain, she hovers just above him with her hands on his chest. The same gleeful smile overtaking her face once she sees he is alright. Her ghostly appearance has lessened, her features becoming more and more pronounced as her strength continues to return. A siren's smile is half as charming. She could lead a thousand ships of sailors into the gates of the underworld with a flutter of her eyelashes, but fortunately for Rift, she has much more practical goals in mind.

"Yeah," Rift nods, still dazed from the brief beating Link issued him. As his companion's form fades away, he regains his composure and begins the trek up Death Mountain. The steep slopes and rocky crags are void of plant life all the way up the hazardous trail. Dwarfing the boy in size, four-legged spider-like creatures occasionally leap overhead, seeming to have business elsewhere this particular morning. The further the boy travels, the darker the shades of brown and grey become, stained by the active volcano's random eruptions. The dark environment is in no way welcoming, the dark ring of smoke above the peak beginning to merge with the dark thunderclouds bleeding across the sky. Dawn's light steadily increases in brightness, but even so the mountain is overshadowed with grey, the first raindrops beginning to fall upon the trail. The gate to Goron City comes into view, and Rift quickly focuses his senses upon spotting the pair of defeated guards lying about the open gate. A brief sizzling noise catches the boy's attention, like water hitting the base of a pot hung over a fire. The hiss steadily amplifies and he realizes the volcano has erupted recently, the hardened lava beneath his feet having yet to cool completely. Distinctly soft beneath his boots, the ground has yet to take permanent shape, and Rift soon realizes his feet probably would have melted some time ago without his enchanted footwear. Almost to the city's entrance, a loud groan of exertion prompts Rift to duck for cover, slowly rounding a rock face to determine the source.

A large Goron screams with rage and anguish as he smashes boulders to pieces with devastating punches. Fearful at first, the boy quickly notes a sad sort of aura about his movements, pacing listlessly before obliterating another large stone. Placing both hands to his brow, it becomes obvious he is mourning some kind of loss, but his anger quickly overshadows his sorrow. Rolling into a ball he bashes against the mountainside, knocking several large rocks loose above in an avalanche of falling stone. Moving with a rapid and precise technique, the Goron smashes each rock to pebbles just before they've descended to the ground. A daunting display of ability Rift has no intention of seeing up close, the punches and elbow strikes are horrifyingly destructive. Moving back to the city entrance the boy is filled with dread when the Goron he just watched fight the mountainside rolls around the corner in the blink of an eye, cutting off his path forward. Unfurling with an angry grimace below his spikey mohawk, the rock-eater holds up a palm to the boy.

"What business do you have with the Death Mountain Tribe?" He asks, itching for a fight.

"I-I um," Rift stammers, struggling to produce a reasonable excuse. "Wanted to know what happened to the guards," he finally expresses, pointing back toward the entrance.

"Guards," he nods knowingly as if he only just now remembered them. "Come with me." Walking the short distance back to the gates, they soon reach the guards, still lying where they fell in combat. "Link, patriarch of the tribe," he greets, kneeling down next to his comrades. Temporarily confused by the Goron's name, the boy soon realizes he is being rude.

"Rift," he nods, rapidly feeling awkward in the environment of death. The rain begins to increase in intensity, water beginning to steadily pour off the front of the boy's hood. With quite a bit of effort, Link hoists both of the lost souls onto his shoulders, marching back toward the city with occasional grunts of strain. "Do you need help?" Rift asks, unsure if he would even want to carry one of the unfortunate guards.

"No," Link immediately grunts, continuing forward. "Goron problems. Enter the city, Rift," he instructs with a newfound tone, only slightly friendlier than before. "Meet you on the bottom floor. Will have words."

"Okay," the boy agrees, moving ahead of the slow-walking Goron. "Thank you!" Inside the colossal cave, the Goron people seem every bit as disheartened as the inhabitants of Castle Town. They go about their business with a sense of defeat, unsympathetic to any and all around them. Large murals depicting bipedal reptilian creatures span the high walls of the city, slowly telling a story as Rift rounds the upper tier, searching for a staircase leading down. The picture story ends with a man in green slaying the crocodile-like beasts and afterward being heralded by the Goron people.

"Seems like they're fans of the... Other Link," Mai sighs, inspecting the murals herself. "A real hero wouldn't have left them defenseless and suffering like this."

"Why do they worship him?" Rift asks, his curiosity peaked. "They're even naming their kids after him," he adds, hooking a thumb back to the entrance to imply the patriarch.

"I'm sure he helped them once. It would have been better for their race to take care of themselves, though. Depending on a hero can't sustain them forever. They need self-reliance. They've learned that the hard way," she explains, watching the listless children and depressed adults throughout the area. Descending the levels of the city, the boy eventually reaches the patriarch's room, guarded by a pair of average-sized Goron men. Considering what he might say to them to gain entry, Rift is glad to see Link suddenly descend into the scene.

"With me," the patriarch nods, gesturing toward the boy and stepping between the guards. Quickly following suit, Rift jogs through the round doorway, meeting Link in a large, torch-lit chamber. Plucking the hood off his head, Mai gives the boy an encouraging squeeze on the shoulders before vanishing again with a smile.

"Sorry about before," Link starts, sitting on the ground behind a long, stone table in the center of the room. The small chamber is amply lit, but lacks any sort of décor aside from the bare essentials. "What happened to our men? Ganon happened."

"Ganon? You mean Ganondorf?" Rift asks, recalling the armored man who fought for the Triforce.

"We know the demon-pig as Ganon," he corrects with contempt. "Tried to kill us all decades ago. Castle gave no warning before he was knocking down our gates. Why?" He demands more than asks, leaning over the table and staring at the boy.

"I-I don't know," he meekly responds, wondering where the harsh tone is originating.

"Don't know?" Link angrily retorts, calming slightly before continuing. "Not from the castle," he realizes, reading Rift's expression.

"No, no," Rift quickly denies, shaking his head. "I'm just... Traveling."

"Traveling?" The patriarch asks, eyeing his puny company suspiciously. Before he can offer a response, the boy is startled by one of the guards interrupting the meeting.

"Boam has arrived, sir," he reports casually. With only a questioning glare to offer, Link can't place the name, though he is certain he has heard it before. "The ambassador from the castle," the guard adds, trying not to sound insulting.

"Right," the patriarch nods, climbing to his feet. "Send him in. Time for some answers."

"No," Mai breathes, realizing where things are headed.

"What?" Rift asks, not considering the fact that the patriarch can hear him, but not Mai.

"That Boam guy works for Zelda! We've got to get out of here," she rapidly informs, pumping a healthy dose of panic into the boy.

"What's the matter with you?" The patriarch asks, watching Rifts suddenly nervous antics as he pulls his hood back over his head and searches for another way out. Seconds later, the seemingly thick leader puts the pieces together. "Fugitive, huh?"

"W-what?" Rift stammers, only half listening.

"Traveling? Hah! More like running," he accuses, crossing his arms and becoming more comfortable. "What'd you do? Steal something?"

"N-no I," the boy starts as his thoughts scramble into a thoughtless purée. Taking another second to exhale, he decides the Goron's excuse is as good as any. "I got caught stealing bread from the market," he lies, staring at the ground and hoping the patriarch's disgruntled standing with the throne will inspire some sympathy.

"Haha, I knew it!" He laughs, walking over to a shelf and snatching a small item from within. "Here," he offers, tossing Rift a necklace of oddly shaped rubies. "Hide in here until he's goes. Hurry up," he insists, cocking his head toward a large circular stone with the Goron symbol boldly etched upon it. With a little effort, he rolls the stone aside revealing a doorway leading into a dark hall. Without another option, the boy quickly jogs through, turning back with a worried gaze. "Hot in there," he states with a serious expression. "Necklace will protect you. Don't wander off," he concludes, rolling the secret doorway closed just as Boam enters the room. Standing in the darkness, Rift can hear muffled voices speaking calmly, but cannot make out the words. Still, he managed to avoid being spotted with an unexpected stroke of luck.

"This is perfect!" Mai cheers, slapping both palms onto the boy's cheeks as she appears before him with an energetic smile. "The portal to the temple is in this crater. I didn't know how we were going to get in here, but you did it! That was genius!" She exclaims, releasing the boy from her faintly glowing grasp and dissipating for the moment. "It's this way," she calls, reappearing behind him and pointing ahead. "With a little luck we'll be back before he knows we left." A proud smile spreads across Rift's face as he makes his way through the winding hall to emerge in a sweltering cavern of molten lava. The air itself seems to be alive, quivering and waving from the absurd amount of heat radiating from below. Inside the heart of the volcano, the boy almost instantly begins to pass out, but Mai promptly throws the necklace over his head. The room ceases spinning as quickly as it started, and with a stumbling misstep, Rift has regained his balance.

"Thanks," he chuckles, shaking his head and palming his brow. "That guy wasn't kidding."

"It's hot," Mai agrees with a modest look, scanning the room for the portal. "We need to get down to that platform," she points out, the lone patch of earth amongst the lava only accessible via a winding path stretching from the base of the massive cliff Rift stands upon.

"Alright," he nods, stepping to the ledge and squinting past the sharp pillars of rock attached to the path far below. "It looks flat enough," he shrugs, involuntarily flinching when he drops through the ground, popping out of the flat, grey stone at the center of the crater. After righting himself and landing on his heels, he sees the Triforce is engraved upon the platform, though time has caused much of the craftsmanship to fade. The sound of churning, bubbling lava is much louder now that he has descended into the heart of the inferno.

"There," Mai exclaims, not trying to hide her excitement. Searching his surroundings for a moment longer, the boy finally spots a peculiar shade of bleached stone upon a cone-shaped wall of rock. With a confident smirk, he marches through the portal and into a radically different setting. The rock face he just traversed, a reddish-brown stain marring the otherwise white chunk of earth, is the only discernible geography as far as the eye can see. The ground he stands upon sizzles at such a high pitch, the noise soon fades into Rift's subconscious. The flat, featureless landscape is thoroughly cracked, like a shattered mirror someone attempted to piece back together on the ground. Strikingly white, the soft earth seems to glow like heated iron, the scribbled divisions throughout the endless plain glowing brightly and starkly contrasting the pitch black sky. Unsure if he is even inside a mountain anymore, the utter lack of wind assures him he is.

"Not what I was expecting," the boy admits with a humbled expression.

"It's only meant to disorient us," Mai shrugs, not at all shocked by the vast emptiness. Walking forward, Rift searches for any sign of life or structure in the distance, the endless black meeting the stretching white on the distant horizon.

"Well it's working," he sighs, slowly spinning three hundred sixty degrees as he continues forward. "Where are we supposed to go?"

"We'll figure it out," she asserts with an optimistic attitude. "Let's just move forward for now." Taking her advice, Rift jogs forward into the vast emptiness. The soft, repetitive crunch of the boy's feet meeting the piping hot earth is lost in the infinite darkness all around him. After a time, he grows irritated by the lack of results, pausing to rest for a moment. The portal through which he entered the Fire Temple's dark counterpart is barely visible in the distance behind him, and still nothing of interest has appeared.

"As much as I like the exercise," he starts, scanning the distance for anything worth noting.

"There's something out there," Mai interrupts, a curious anxiety in her voice. "Just a little further." Shrugging his shoulders, Rift continues forward, the landscape failing to differentiate at any point during the long trek. Finally spying a form in the distance, the boy picks up the pace until the figure takes shape. Four massive suits of heavy armor stand back to back guarding nothing Rift can perceive, even once he's drawn closer. Threatening from head to toe, their every conceivable weakness is covered with multiple layers of heavy plate mail. The seemingly empty shells show no signs of life, but their gigantic war axes, clenched tightly in their hands, are far from inviting. Circling the statue-like warriors, the boy finally spots a metallic button, identical to the ones he had to activate in the previous dungeon. Positioned to halt any advance toward the switch, the iron-clad guards remain dormant while Rift considers his options.

"Call me crazy, but I'd rather not get too close to those things," he admits with a nervous sigh.

"Don't worry," Mai assures, though there is something in her voice Rift doesn't quite like. "I've got a plan. Just jump over them and land on the switch. As long as you don't touch them we should be fine," she concludes as if the feat is no big deal.

"You're serious too," the boy chuckles after a moment, shaking his head.

"Concentrate. Just focus on the spot you want to land," she advises, waiting with anticipation. Taking a minute longer to size up the obstacle, Rift eventually works up the nerve, stepping back to an optimal distance. After a deep breath, he takes two running steps before vaulting into the air, dropping between the spikey suits of armor and directly upon the button. The odd-looking mechanism pops into the ground with a loud click as the boy squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the armor to angrily awaken. Moments pass and nothing changes. Relaxing his muscles, Rift peers through the small gaps between the iron-clad curtains, finding nothing has changed outside his cell of metal backsides. "Hmm," Mai chirps, confused by the lack of results. "Well that's disappointing. Great jump, though."

"Yeah, thanks," he responds satirically. "Now what?" Without warning, the entire area begins to shake violently. Barely able to keep his footing, Rift stumbles into one of the statues surrounding him before dropping to a knee. An instant later, all four of the armored sentinels come to life, lifting their gigantic axes to their chests and stepping away from the switch the boy resides upon. In a synchronized about-face, the group slowly turns to discover the one who would disturb their eternal duty. "No, no, no," Rift mumbles, looking from faceless helm to faceless helm. Each of the warrior's heads is concealed behind a perforated shell, like ancient gladiators they are void of any features behind the expressionless masks.

"It's okay," Mai quickly interjects, watching the iron knuckles collectively end their synchronized mannerisms, and individually strive to be the one who kills the intruder. "Stay calm," she adds, though her voice is quickly infected with worry as well. A deep grunt sounds from behind, and Rift turns in time to see one of the animated armors twist its axe behind its form, powering up for a destructive attack. "Jump!" Mai exclaims, just as the colossal weapon begins to swing. Diving for the warrior's head, Rift springs over the attack, pushing off the helm with his idle hand as he flips to temporary safety. Already closing in, the remaining sentinels march with extremely hefty footsteps, their mighty boots plunging into the soft earth with every step. Coordinating their attack, the heavily armored suits spread out, attempting to surround the boy once again.

"I just remembered," Rift announces, meekly backing away from the imposing force. "I had a thing I needed to do. You know, somewhere else."

"Get it together!" Mai commands, determined to keep him motivated. Another warrior winds up an overhead chop, but the boy immediately dashes away. Its axe plunging into the white ground, the animated armor must exert a significant amount of effort to pull it free. "Look! Once they attack they're wide open for a counter," she points out, noting the critical seconds in which the warrior must drop its guard to retrieve its weapon.

"That's great," Rift chimes in, the trepidation in his voice still growing. "Really only useful in a one-on-one situation, though." Far in the distance, a tidal wave of white lava begins spewing from the ground, rapidly closing the distance to the battlefield. Blasting up through the cracks in the earth, the lava pours out in a specific shape, gradually forming a rectangular cage of molten liquid. Immediately sprinting back toward the entrance, the boy slows to a stop when he spots thousands of red eyes staring down at him from the darkness above. Now trapped in a closing pincer of worst case scenarios, he turns back to the approaching iron knuckles, steadily marching toward him as the lava-wall finally reaches them. Passing on both sides the lava suddenly turns a corner, completing the rectangular shape of the liquid enclosure, and cutting off the slow-moving warriors. Beginning to thrash about, the armored antagonists struggle to get away from the raining lava eating through their suits. One of the enemies trips forward, falling directly upon the geyser of flame and throwing its axe to the opposite side before the lava cuts him in half. Two more of the dreadful fighters quickly succumb to the volcanic torrent, but the final knight proves wiser than the rest, stripping his contaminated armor away before the lava can eat completely through. Now significantly more mobile, the axe wielder charges the deadly wall, winding up a mighty swing during the approach. Leaping into a somersault just as it swings, the dexterous foe chops a momentary window in the molten obstruction, landing safely on the other side. Its axe immediately begins to melt, the lava quickly chewing through the mighty blade as the knight inspects it. Throwing the useless weapon aside, the slightly less armored warrior marches forward, snatching the discarded axe of his fallen comrade out of the ground midstride and setting its sights on Rift.

"You were saying?" Mai asks, her tone practically dripping with narcissism.

"You're really pushing it today," Rift sighs, hiding a smile when his comment provokes an uncontrollable giggle from his companion. The approaching villain twirls its axe in one hand, demonstrating its absurd strength while it faintly growls between steps. Taking his battle stance, the boy eyes the overconfident sentinel, searching for an exploitable weakness. The initial attack is predictable enough, another massive horizontal swing. Leaping over the attack, Rift prepares to punch the knight's faceguard inside out when it unpredictably uses the momentum from the swing to continue into an overhead, vertical chop. Trapped in midair, the boy crosses his arms, but the approaching strike will certainly end his life regardless.

"Look out!" Mai screams, suddenly appearing beside him in the air and kicking him aside as they both leave the path of the coming blade at the last possible second. Only getting a moment's glance at the intervening goddess, Rift sees she has finally taken complete physical form when she appears, though she remains somewhat translucent. Her thin, seductive form is scarcely concealed by a sleeveless robe, open on the sides from her arms to her waist, revealing her pale skin. Secured at the waist by nothing more than a thin rope, the slit continues down the side all the way to base of the thin material. The potent dose of female anatomy is enough to annihilate Rift's concentration for a significant time. "What's wrong with you?" Mai shouts again as the iron knuckle finally plucks its axe from the earth. "Snap out of it, Rift!" Regaining his senses, the boy rolls to his feet and collects his bearings. His opponent advances once again, moving much faster without the bulk of its cumbersome armor. Rising back into his stance, Rift is not about to make the same overzealous mistake twice. The warrior feigns a vertical chop, twisting into a spinning horizontal chop instead, but the boy rolls over the top of the slow-moving slice of metal. Quickly regretting the stylish evasion, his back is seared through his cheap clothing, the blade piping hot after being driven into the sizzling ground. At Mai's command, he quickly sidesteps the following overhead strike, finding himself in an extremely advantageous position. A powerful punch bounces off the knight's head, but does nothing to slow it down. Two more rapid strikes produce no damage, and the sentinel has reclaimed its weapon, promptly winding up to murder the irritating intruder.

"His armor's still too thick," Rift declares, worriedly watching the foe prepare a new attack.

"Okay, I've got a plan," Mai assures, watching the iron knuckle carefully.

"I've heard this somewhere before," the boy quickly counters.

"Trust me," Mai chuckles, immediately following with, "Left!" Dodging left, the diagonal strike misses the mark, giving Rift another suffocating blast of hot wind as it passes. "Right!" Twisting right, the perpetual swing continues in a figure eight, slicing in the opposite direction. "Block!" Rapidly spinning into an unorthodox rush, the knight thrusts the long handle of the axe forward, colliding with the boy's gauntlets, and throwing him to the ground with a loud knocking noise. Wasting no time, the mighty warrior leaps forward, winding up yet another execution chop. "Left!" Mai commands, a slight tone of worry creeping into her voice this time. Rolling to the side, Rift narrowly manages to avoid the strike, finding himself with the strategic upper hand once again. A groan of exertion sounds as Mai appears on the sentinel's back, slowly peeling a shoulder plate upward to reveal the vulnerable chainmail underneath. "Strike!" She groans, straining to keep the weakness exposed. Utilizing every ounce of his strength, Rift throws a devastating hook, landing directly upon the armor's susceptible limb. The blow causes the combatant to recoil slightly, losing its progress in retrieving its deeply embedded axe as its arm falls limp. Vanishing and reappearing on the opposite side, Mai pries the armor apart once again, allowing Rift to repeat the process. Rising from its knee with a deep roar, the knight manages to scare the boy back a step, but its arms have clearly become useless, occasionally shaking, but remaining at its sides.

"That's more like it," Rift nods with a smile, strafing his target and preparing to strike once again. Charging forward, the iron knuckle lifts a boot high into the air like a sumo wrestler preparing for a fight, aiming to crush the boy underneath.

"Go!" Mai instructs, urging Rift to roll forward just before the boot plunges into the ground. Now behind the fuming foe, the boy spots Mai pulling yet another piece of armor loose near the ribcage. Wasting no time with excessive technique, he focuses purely on power, bashing the behemoth's side with a violent uppercut. Another painful roar sounds, and another plate is shoved aside as Mai waits for the boy to finish the fight. Shouting a roar of his own, Rift uppercuts the armor one final time, and with that, the sentinel dramatically falls flat on its face, soundly defeated.

"That was awesome!" Mai proclaims, sounding extremely energetic, and a little immature. Suddenly appearing atop the boy's shoulders, she points at the fallen combatant with a mocking demeanor while palming Rift's spikey hair for balance. Her thighs and shins resting on either side of his face, Rift fights the nervous feeling welling up in his gut as she leans forward to look at his face. "I told you! You were all, I've heard this before," she recalls, using her best impression of the boy. "But it worked. How do you ever doubt me?" She smirks, poking him on the nose before dissipating again. Slowly willing himself to grow accustomed to her physical antics, Rift still finds himself staring in a thoughtless stupor every time she appears. Unable to see anything but her thick, ropey strands of black hair dangling beneath her inverted visage, the feeling in his stomach refuses to relent. After an awkward cough he begins to walk forward, doing his best to act casual.

"I swear, you are in rare form today," he chuckles, proceeding toward the dying down geysers of lava, still spraying a meager amount up onto the cracked earth. A quick glance over his shoulder reveals the sea of red eyes has disappeared, the open air behind him the same uninterrupted black as when he first entered the area. Cautiously approaching the bubbling line of lava, he sees the shape the molten liquid carved remains, though the tenacity of the magma jets has decreased severely. The armored victims of the onslaught lie about the area as the glowing, white liquid gradually seeps into the dark crevices littering the landscape. Suddenly, the rectangular shape of earth jumps downward, slowly sinking as a staircase gradually takes shape. The walls of the forming hallway are clearly incalculably hot, glowing as brightly as the oozing lava, still searching for a place to settle as the passageway forms. Slumping down to rest upon the now uneven ground, the severed half of the bisected suit of armor returns to its inert state. Beginning to descend into the still forming hall, Rift glances back to see the armor was empty all along, animated by some ancient magic for the sole purpose of killing anything unfortunate enough to touch it. Careful not to stray too close to the brightly glowing walls, the boy jogs down the long staircase, finally reaching the bottom where three metal doors await.

"I don't like this," Mai points out, taking form in front of the boy. Cautiously moving toward the middle door, she briefly glances back to find Rift's vacant eyes locked upon her. "Hey!" She half whispers with a stern look. "Eyes up here," she demands, pointing at her face before smiling wryly and turning her attention back to the task. Grabbing the handle proves disastrous as the doorframe suddenly produces teeth along its edges. The ground beneath the goddess's feet crumbles apart as the bottom jaw of the monster is revealed. Snapping its deceptive mouth shut, Mai is blinked out of existence inside the submerged monster's hungry mouth.

"Mai!" Rift yells, louder than he'd intended. Writhing left to right, the creature continues to snap its jaws, searching for its prey unsuccessfully. Finally relenting, it returns to its passive stance, burrowing its bottom jaw just beneath the surface as its fangs recede back into the mimicked door.

"What?" She casually asks, almost sounding annoyed by the unexpected shout. Standing beside the boy with her chin resting on her fist, she stares at the doors thoughtfully. Turning to see her, Rift is thoroughly embarrassed, unsure what to say to play off the outburst of compassion.

"So," he starts, turning back toward the doors to hide his blushing face. "That was unexpected."

"Yeah, I thought he had me for sure," she dryly replies, eyeing the boy with a knowing smirk. "Here's the plan. Anytime something seems out of place or dangerous, send me over to investigate. Better I fall for the trap than you, right?"

"Yeah," Rift nods, pulling his hood up over his head to better conceal his face. "That makes sense."

"So which door do you think?" She asks, trying her best to refrain from laughing at the boy's expense. She may have poured it on a little thick, but the closer the two become, the crueler the jokes and discourse have grown.

"Let's try that one on the left," he decides, walking closer, but allowing Mai to test it first. With a casual twist of her wrist, the door swings open revealing another hall of molten white, turning right just inside the doorway. "Good call. I should have let you pick the first time," she admits, turning the conversation away from embarrassing topics. Through the door the duo find hallway after hallway of molten walls, the ceiling consisting of the same soft, cracked texture as the ground for whatever reason. The cavern is not naturally formed, the walls forming right angles every time a hallway turns or meets an intersection. Quickly determining what they've stumbled into, Rift lets out a long sigh to prepare for the road ahead.

"It's a maze," he points out, shaking his head.

"Buck up handsome, I'm good at this stuff," Mai assures with a cavalier tone. "You do the walking and I'll keep track of where we've been. We'll be through this thing in no time." His spirit rejuvenated for the time being, Rift jogs down the hall, turning right and immediately hitting a dead end. Rolling his eyes, he turns around and takes the alternate route discovering a juncture with three possibilities. Corner after corner is turned. Dead ends and disorientation are all the boy finds. The occasional rumble sounds in the distance, and the two explorers are filled with dread each and every time. Another eruption of lava would be the end for Rift, the underground maze's only exits an unknown distance away. Rounding yet another corner, the boy trots through another crossroads when Mai calls out for him to stop. Phasing into the visible spectrum, she curiously inspects the walls before turning her attention to the floor and ceiling.

"What is it?" Rift asks, baffled by her antics.

"This hall wasn't here before. I'm sure of it," she mumbles, venturing into the passage.

"You losing your touch?" The boy asks, following her into the yet to be traversed hall.

"Hah! Never. There's something fishy going on down here," she declares before vanishing once again. Continuing down the new direction, several more dead ends are found as Mai continues to map out the growing labyrinth. A much louder rumbling sounds causing Rift to freeze in his tracks. After a brief, monotonous period, it stops with no perceptible change having occurred.

"What is that?" He asks, growing increasingly paranoid.

"At first I didn't want to find out, but suddenly I do," the goddess proclaims with an air of annoyance. "Remember that hall I said wasn't there before? Let's head back there." Quickly retracing his steps, Rift turns a series of corners expecting an intersection to appear, but instead finds another dead end.

"Wait," he thinks aloud, shaking his head. "This was it, right?"

"Sure was," Mai agrees, sounding especially vindicated. "The maze is cheating. The walls are shifting. I've been keeping track of the time between that rumbling noise, and," she pauses, waiting for confirmation. "And," she adds, growing impatient. Moments later, the seamless wall slowly slides downward with a loud rumbling, revealing the familiar junction as the obstruction slides back into the ground. Scowling at the spot where the wall descended, Rift cannot find a single inconsistency in the cracked floor that might reveal the ruse for what it is.

"Unbelievable," the boy groans, throwing his hands up in defeat. "How are we going to deal with that?" He asks, waiting a moment before adding, "and don't say I have—"

"I have a plan," Mai interjects before he can finish the sentence. "Right now the fake walls are down. There are only three paths we've found extending deeper into the maze. If we hurry, we should be able to find the one that opened," she explains, waiting for her praise.

"That's a terrible idea," Rift moans sarcastically. "Of all the plans you've come up with," he starts, cut off when Mai appears on his shoulders once again.

"Say it!" She demands, pinching his nose between her knuckles.

"No! Get off!" The boy laughs, his voice augmented with his nasal passage blocked.

"Say it!" She repeats, struggling to keep her balance as Rift attempts to shake her loose. Relaxing his shoulders, he finally admits defeat.

"You're a genius," he mumbles, glancing to the right to avoid eye contact.

"What? Can't hear you," she shouts, cupping a hand to her ear.

"You're a genius," he blurts out, only slightly more audibly, adding, "and a jerk."

"I'll take it," she smirks, releasing his nose and propping her forearms on top of his head. Riding her companion through the endless halls, Mai sits with a reflective smile on her face. "I'm glad I met you, Rift," she admits, her tone suddenly turning mildly lethargic.

"What's this all of a sudden?" He asks with a brief laugh.

"All kidding aside, I feel like I haven't really told you," she pauses, trying to find the words. "How important you are to me," she declares, nervously adjusting herself on his shoulders with the admission. A brief silence passes as Rift quickly becomes as uncomfortable as Mai seems to be.

"T-thank you," he finally stammers awkwardly. "M-me too, you know?"

"I know," she smiles, sliding off his shoulders to switch to a piggyback ride. Hugging his neck and shoulders she adds, "it's just nice to hear it." With that she fades away, the grin on the boy's face certain to remain for quite a while. Sensing his daydreaming state, she decides she'd better say something else. "We don't have a ton of time, so," she starts, hating to ruin the moment.

"Oh," he exclaims, slightly startled. "Right, right." Breaking into a fast-paced jog, he decides to try the rightmost potential passage. Stunned by his continual luck, he finds what should be a dead end leading deeper into the maze. Rounding another corner in a blissful state of mind, he is completely unprepared for the blob-like enemy waiting for him. Primarily black in color, the lazily rippling husk of muscle has sporadic splotches of purple as well. Freezing in his tracks, he watches the cylindrical creature extend upward like an outstretched tongue before bending in his direction.

"Look out!" Mai cries, unsure what manner of tactics to issue against such an enemy in the tightly enclosed area. Turning to run, Rift soon finds it is far too late, an orifice atop the creature expanding in size as a powerful influx of air pulls the boy back. Fighting the suction with every step, he simply reacted too late, the vacuum finally pulling him off balance and into the monster's mouth. Thrashing about inside the beast, Rift's stomach turns as the slimy juices immediately coat his form completely. The consistent squeezing and relaxing of the monster's fleshy interior nearly causes him to puke as he continues to punch and kick despite the total lack of oxygen. Apparently annoyed by the boy's reluctance to be eaten, the warbling mass of muscle vomits him back onto the ground with a disgustingly slimy noise. Rolling to a sitting position, Rift glances at his hands to see the putrid, purple muck slowly dripping off. Climbing back to his feet he hears a sizzling sound steadily gaining volume, and upon glancing down, realizes the creature has stolen his greaves.

"Uhhh," he starts, wiping a large glob of slop from his face. "Little help?"

"Portal!" Mai announces after contemplating a moment herself. The dark muck coating the ground beneath Rift's feet begins to boil as he begins to hop from foot to foot in order to keep them from cooking along with it. Struggling to line up a shot, the boy fails to notice the monster has slowly approached for another attempt to consume him.

"Now!" He shouts, dropping through the floor just as the revolting creature begins to suck him in. Falling through the ceiling, he winds up a punch, but swings short as the torrent of air begins to pull him back up through the portal. Now tumbling weightlessly he palms the approaching ceiling to right himself while the creature's lips have all but seized hold of the boy's head.

"I can't close it until you're through," Mai points out, appearing below him. "Here!" She calls, grabbing hold of his ankle and adding her strength. Beginning to shake from the effort, the monster's suction finally relents. Utilizing Rift's body like a hammer, Mai slams him downward, his fist hitting the blob with incredible force. A single ripple quakes through the monstrosity's body before it collapses onto the ground with the boy on top of it. Gradually turning to liquid itself, the deteriorating flesh reveals the lost greaves, slowly seeping through the muck and muscle. Delighted to have them back, Rift straps the boots back on hurriedly, and returns to his quest a bit more cautiously. Only two more dead ends delay the boy's progress before he finds a large chamber with a chest residing at the center.

"Finally," he breathes, catching his breath before moving over to claim his prize. The muck coating his body has quickly dried, but remains incredibly unpleasant, causing his limbs to stick to his grotesque clothing. "Can we go back to the water temple after this?" He whines, slouching uncomfortably as he reaches the chest. Throwing the lid back reveals a thin, ghostly-blue tunic of a material Rift has never seen before. After pulling the outfit from the chest and letting it unfurl, he sees the tunic is just his size, and best of all, has a dim, blue hood attached. Gladly stripping off his filthy shirt and cowl, the boy is careful not to remove the necklace given to him by the patriarch as he dons the light-as-air tunic. A simple, black belt secures the cloth about his waist, the shirt dangling just above his knees over his baggy, black pants.

"Perfect!" Mai declares, appearing before him once again. "With this tunic you can move much faster." Stepping closer she reaches past his ears, smiling shyly as she pulls his hood over his head for him. Lingering a moment longer, she stares into the boy's eyes, noting the growing confidence behind his consistently timid expression. Before she can utter a word, the temple shakes violently as a deep rumbling begins to steadily increase in volume beneath them. "Wouldn't be the same without this part, right?" She nervously laughs, smiling as she pulls him back toward the maze. "I'll guide you out. Those trick walls will start closing any minute so we can't afford to make any mistakes," she points out, releasing his hand and picking up the pace. "Follow me, Rift," she beckons, breaking into a daunting sprint. Running as fast as he's able, the boy watches her every move, passing through the first checkpoint without incident. The moment he passes over the deceptive wall, it begins to rise, urging him to hasten his escape. Rounding several more corners, he suddenly loses sight of his companion, falling back to his memory of the maze to make the right choices. Darting left at another intersection assures him he is on the right track as Mai's billowing robe continues ahead. Desperate to close the distance, he dashes forward, dumbstruck when he flashes through the long hallway in an instant. Almost ramming into the glowing wall in front of him, he realizes just how agile he has become. The second checkpoint has already risen halfway by the time the sprinting goddess has reached it. Setting the example, she dives over the obstacle, prompting Rift to follow suit, executing a rolling handspring off the scorching ground to conserve momentum. Rounding three more corners reveals his path leading strait through the next two junctions. The final checkpoint has nearly reached the ceiling as the boy dashes forward like a bolt of lightning to close the distance. Each step blasts him forward, and he is nearly upon his goddess in no time. As Mai reaches the wall ahead of him, she simply vanishes, leaving Rift wondering how he is supposed to get past the obstacle. By the time he is close enough to jump, the gap between the rising wall and ceiling is too small to traverse. Scouring his mind for the answer, a grin steals over his face as he leaps back a step and squints through his transparent palm.

"Now!" He shouts, dropping through the ceiling on the opposite side of the rising wall. Seconds later, the inverted guillotine crunches against the ceiling, failing to seal the boy in the death trap. After rounding the final corner, he is back at the metal door, dashing through the still-open frame and up the colossal staircase. "You could have said something," he manages to insist between breaths, leaping up the vast climb several steps at a time.

"I knew you'd figure it out," Mai expresses with a confident tone. Suddenly, the entire section of the earthy stairs blasts into the air, riding a column of erupting lava all the way to the imperceptible ceiling. Slowly eroding away from the intense heat, the large chunk of earth rocketing upward is enough to frighten the thousands of bats lining the pitch black roof of the cave. "Trust me on this one," Mai suddenly proclaims. "Jump!" She announces, taking shape just long enough to demonstrate which direction Rift should leap. Dashing off the rising chunk of earth, the boy leaps into the open air just before the flaming boulder smashes against the rocky ceiling. Only now getting a chance to see what is unfolding below, Rift's heart sinks when he sees the formerly vast emptiness being consumed by explosions of white lava and fire. The entire horizon collapses downward, spilling into the approaching lake of molten liquid while sporadic plumes of magma throw islands of earth into the ceiling aggressively. Failing to see the coming swarm until the last second, the boy sees Mai's strategy too late to opt out.

"You've got to be kidding me," he declares with apprehension, bracing for the imminent impact. Landing upon the screeching flock of furry animals, Rift rolls forward and breaks into an awkward sprint as some of the bats randomly strike his chest and face. Though far from dependable, the mass of mammals provide sturdy enough footing to allow the boy to advance forward.

"This way!" Mai calls, seeming to run out of the boy's body to reveal his next objective. Following her without hesitation, he leaps from the dispersing mass, witnessing the twisting and weaving cylinders of keese flying in every direction in a massive panic over the chaotic white landscape below. Briefly landing upon a smaller group, Mai immediately leaps away once again, causing the boy to rush his terrible footing into a clumsy jump. Another column of flame punches into the ceiling, obliterating the group of bats he just leapt away from. Landing more harshly than before, he hits the side of the wave of animals, vainly attempting to knock away a particularly angry one scratching and biting at his face. Unable to get his footing, he topples off the group, tumbling downward toward the growing hell below. A much larger chain of winged creatures twists into his path and seems as though it will catch him, but just as quickly as it turned toward him, the mass shifts away as the boy falls toward certain death. Rapidly approaching from the destroyed underground temple at an angle, Mai soars with her arms extended before calling out to him. "Here!" She cries, tucking into a fetal position and flipping forward. Realizing what she intends to do, Rift presses his knees to his chest as Mai intercepts his descent. The couple's feet collide as if the boy were falling into a mirror, and matching each other's actions perfectly, Mai kicks upward as he kicks downward. Soaring back into the air Rift lands upon a particularly long colony of bats, feverishly flying against him as he runs atop the bulk of them. More columns of flame hit the ceiling with heavy crunches and explosions as the flowing surge of screeching creatures collectively twists and bends to dodge the sudden dangers.

Finally descending the living staircase toward the portal home, Rift flashes forward in sudden, repetitive bursts before leaping off the panicking bridge of mammals, and falling the short distance remaining to the ground. The reverse tidal wave of earth falling into the churning ocean of lava has nearly reached him as Mai appears overhead, offering a hand. Swinging him toward the door alters his momentum enough to prevent a harsh landing, and without looking back, the boy sprints through the portal. Back inside Death Mountain, Rift promptly skids to a stop and collapses from exhaustion, heaving heavily as he strains to catch his breath. Beginning to feel faintly dizzy from exertion, the boy collapses to the ground atop the strange stone emblazoned with the Triforce. Appearing beside him, Mai rolls him over and lifts his head into her lap, softly stroking his hair until his breathing returns to normal.

"We did it! You never cease to amaze me," she admits with a smile, caressing his cheek while she stares down at him. Uncertain of exactly what his apathy is stemming from, Rift assumes it to be his near-death experience coupled with his vehement exhaustion that prompts his next question.

"You hid these pieces of armor in all these temples, right?" He starts, staring blankly into her compassionate eyes. For the briefest of moments, her brow twitches before returning to normal. "Why do they always collapse when I take the armor? It doesn't make sense."

"I wish I could tell you," she sighs, shaking her head as she continues to run her fingers through his dirty hair. "We've almost done it, though. Two more pieces and we can finally save Hyrule from my sisters. I never imagined this day would come to pass. It's all because of you," she concludes, her eyes suddenly shifting to some point high to her left.

"What is it?" Rift asks, remaining in her lap as his suspicious thoughts dull and fade away.

"It's Link," she sighs, adding, "he's back."

"What?" The boy exclaims, springing to his feet and searching the area.

"Hahaha!" Mai spiritedly laughs, grabbing her stomach and falling onto her side before dissipating. "Not that Link," she points out once her giggles have subsided. Recalling the Goron who sent him in here to begin with, Rift lines up his hand with a smooth section of stone high above the massive chasm of lava. Landing behind the almost frantic patriarch, he ponders if his new ensemble will cause any suspicion as to what he did while locked in here.

"Hey!" Link shouts, checking behind rocks along the cliff overlooking the crater. "Told him not to wander off," he mumbles to himself, quickly growing stressed.

"Over here!" Rift calls, approaching the patriarch and waving an arm.

"Son of a torch slug," he exclaims, hooking an arm around the boy's neck and leading him back into his chambers. "Thought you fell off the cliff or something. You alright?"

"Fine, fine," the boy assures, waving a dismissive hand, and removing the necklace while Link rolls the stone door back into place.

"Don't look so good," the Goron retorts, looking him over briefly before returning the necklace to its proper place. "Should have known better. Old trinket can't protect someone so puny for long."

"You really helped me out, though," Rift admits, sounding especially sincere despite the unintentional insult.

"Forget it," Link sighs, shaking his head and taking a seat. "Know what it's like to be on the run. Remind me of myself when I was your age. Fugitive. On the run with no place to call home."

"What were you running from?" The boy asks, genuinely curious. "If you don't mind my asking," he adds, realizing he is prying.

"A coup," he recalls, closing his eyes as the painful memory returns. "Father used to be the big cheese around here. Gor Coron appeared one day with that hot-head, Darbus. Played nice with my father, but I never trusted him. Turned my father's tribe against him. Mocked his love of song and dance, and blamed him for Ganon's treachery. Said Ganon wouldn't dare attack unless someone so weak were patriarch. Guards took him, but when they came for me," he explains, the distant anger beginning to swell in his tone.

"You ran," Rift interrupts, understanding the Goron's feelings completely.

"Trained with another tribe far to the north. Taught me a new style of fighting. Trained for many years. Came back to claim my birthright," he expresses, confiding his story in the boy for unknown reasons. He sees much of himself in the puny human, a potential for greatness should he manage to realize it.

"Your father would be proud," Rift grins, quickly growing saddened wondering what his own father would think of him.

"Men make war and sorrow," the patriarch sighs, reflecting on his past as well as the coming days. "Rise above your leaders and make your own way. Life is long, but time is short," he concludes, rising to his feet. Perplexed by his last statement, Rift stands as well, sensing it is time for him to go.

"Thank you again. For everything," he offers, bowing slightly as he has no idea how their race shows respect.

"No," Link stoically interjects, raising a palm. "Never return to our city," he states bluntly, painting a confused look on the boy's face. "Distancing ourselves from the throne. Must rely on our own strength. No more alliances with Humans or Hylians. All will be turned away. Must be this way," he concludes, his tone conveying he has nothing personal against Rift, but still remains determined to carry out his own plans. "Hard life in the north. If you must run, run south."

"I understand," the boy nods, staring at the patriarch a moment longer before turning to leave Goron City forever.

## Bid for Power:

### My Fate Has Grander Endings

Never having been a fan of any province but his own, Ganondorf dislikes the Faron Province more than any other. Dismounting his trusty steed at the forest entrance, the king of thieves sets a casual pace through the densely shrouded area. The long awaited rain has come to the woods at last, and despite the Gerudo's apathy toward weather conditions, he would certainly prefer not the venture through the muddy slosh of rejuvenated grass. The extraordinarily irritating buzz of insects seems to gradually fade away as he ventures deeper into the disorienting forest. Recognizing a Deku Baba when he sees it, the plant remains inert, even shying away slightly as the demonic presence of the warlock demands respect from the feeble creature while he passes. All things considered, his plans and preparations could not possibly be proceeding more perfectly. Distracting his fellow Triforce fragment possessors with the Bulbin siege bought him just enough time to acquire the Fire Medallion. The success or failure of the attack was never of any consequence to him. Merely attempting to pass through Kakariko, he sensed a presence in the darkness below the ancient well in the center of town. Not presumptuous enough to assume his perception was operating at a new high, he attributes the cornering and defeat of the sage of shadow to Din's ever present influence upon him. Though he turned his back on her on Death Mountain, the goddess has refused to relent. Her tender hooks deeply embedded in his malignant ego, always reeling him back into her arms at infinitesimal increments.

The long since abandoned Kokiri Village does not serve to frustrate so much as it drives pins of motivation between the Gerudo king's bones, assimilating an angry sort of determination as he ascends to the entrance of the Lost Woods. Four medallions acquired. A far better ratio than he had expected at this stage in the game. To Din's dismay, the thought pacifies his vibrating nerves for the time being. He has never considered the allowance of his rage to manifest an act of submission until now. The deity demands it of him, not through words or gestures, but through the seduction of his desire for power. The virtually identical intersections spreading through the Lost Woods do what they can to reinstate Ganondorf's suppressed anxiety. The forest has grown impossibly quiet, the bulk of the insects and creatures fleeing in fear of the Gerudo's intentions. Even the happy melody, dancing between the trees upon puffs of air escaping a flute, dies down to nothing. With only the faint breeze and drumming of water upon treetops to guide him, the warlock continues forward, taking paths essentially at random. The day drags on slowly, and after an unknown period of time spent wandering, he emerges in the valley of Old Kokiri Village, bewildered and angry.

A more powerful tug pulls his spirit closer to the blazing orb, and in the blink of an eye Ganondorf is back within the depths of his mind. The towers of fire have surrounded him, the all-encompassing inferno crawling closer and closer with every passing moment. Turning to face his goddess, the Gerudo sees she still waits with her arms extended toward him. A voluntary step closer is rewarded by her features becoming discernible. The veil of flame seems to part slightly, as if to show him there is only a future in her arms. The woman stands as tall as he, and with her wild mane of vivid, red hair spiraling into an elegant mess of a ponytail, she appears much taller. Her full, crimson lips frown at her chosen's reluctance beneath her feral eyes, locked in a patient stare, but still commanding submission effortlessly. Her voluptuous form seizes hold of her prey's baser needs, and large, golden hoops dangle weightlessly around her wrists. Concealed sparingly beneath an unsymmetrical, warlords garb, her ensemble is a pristine white and revealing in all the right places. His rational thoughts leaving him for the moment, Ganondorf succumbs to the temptation and ventures another step closer. The goddess's pleasure is revealed through the subtle act of her stern visage lessening ever so slightly. The king of thieves' eyelid completes its descent and subsequent ascent, and the fraction of an instant has passed.

Still standing at the entrance to the Lost Woods, his appearance has changed once again. The pig-like image distorting his face even more so than before, he charges back into the maze of wood and moss with purpose. The smells of the forest are sifted through like trash concealing a buried treasure. Moving from clearing to clearing with a primal sort of haste, he has finally locked onto the scent of a child in the distance. The winding path leading through the hollowed trunks and thick foliage is revealed as if the answer should have been obvious, and finally, Ganondorf emerges into the sacred meadow the Kokiri now call home. Sprinting to the nearest hiding place, a child dressed radically different than the rest of the green-garbed children disappears from view. His shabby, thatched clothing appears to have been handmade, but before the king of thieves can get a good look, he vanishes. Marching into the whimsical village, the warlock has but one goal in mind. Find the leader.

"You shouldn't be here," Fado claims, sitting atop the hollow tree trunk the Gerudo just emerged from. Donning a green hood in an effort to simulate Rift's signature look, she scowls through the downpour of water to offer a warning. "Everyone who enters the forest will be lost. Everyone becomes a Stalfos. Even you." Ignoring the ominous blonde, Ganondorf continues forward, his monstrous visage scaring the majority of the inhabitants back into their homes. Finally reaching a narrow path guarded by a red-headed boy, the Gerudo smiles at the prospect of smashing him into the ground.

"W-who are you?" Mido meekly asks, terrified, but still bound by his duty.

"Bring me the sage," he commands, his voice amplified and grotesquely evil under Din's influence.

"Th-the sage?" The boy responds, genuinely unaware what the beast of a man is after. Blindly lifting an idle hand to his right, Ganondorf charges a small orb of dark energy and fires the projectile at a nearby house. The structure explodes, sending massive chunks of wood flying as well as a shower of splintered belongings. Not bothering to even glance at the destruction he has caused, the warlock lets the debris settle beneath the consistent rain before lifting his left arm in the same fashion. "Wait!" Mido shrieks, but to no avail. A much larger structure is obliterated at the base, the tall apartment-like tree tipping over and crashing to the ground with its inhabitants in tow.

"The sage!" Ganondorf bellows, his body quivering with delight from the slaughter. "Now!" His eyes wide with fear, Mido sprints through the passage toward the Forest Temple's entrance as quickly as his legs will carry him. Sensing a new presence behind him, the Gerudo turns to find four Kokiri boys standing in a half circle, each of them wielding a short sword and a wooden shield. His ego filled to the brim, Ganondorf laughs a wicked laugh at their expense, crushing whatever misplaced sense of valor had summoned them to such a cause. Turning his back to the comical Kokiri defense force, he sees that the sage's vessel has arrived. A young girl with an unbreakable spirit in her eyes stands before the Gerudo with a fearless expression. Her short, green hair is held back by a headband, and her outfit is identical to the other Kokiri girls except for her signature dark green turtleneck beneath the standard tunic. Standing with her hands on her hips, her unimpressed expression seems to ask what the intruder could possibly want. "You know why I have come," he growls, having no patience for any pathetic form of resistance.

"And you know why he has come," Saria retorts, her eyes briefly glancing behind the warlock before returning to his augmented face. Picturing the pint-sized warriors he ignored moments ago, Ganondorf turns to find the hero of time himself standing in their place. Though the rain bears down on him relentlessly, his golden gauntlets still seem to glimmer in the sparse light. Din's yearning to complete the merger of their souls amplifies dramatically, but with a great deal of effort, the king of thieves shakes himself free of her calling. Immediately beginning to circle each other in the small clearing, neither of the combatants offer a single word as a thunderclap sounds overhead. This battle has been inevitable since the very moment the Gerudo was resurrected. He has always known this. Eyeing the Hylian as they continue to pace the battlefield, he sees his victory on the horizon due to the absence of the Master Sword. Without the blade of evil's bane, the confident hero will certainly fall to the overwhelming power of Din's essence. Tired of waiting to see who will make the first move, Link suddenly dashes forward, drawing his hookshot like a gunslinger in a duel. The chain screams past the warlock's torso as he easily dodges the projectile. Connecting with the tree directly behind his target, Link soars the remaining distance forward, scooping Ganondorf off the ground with a punch to the stomach. Impressive as the power of his gauntlets may be, the Gerudo continues to revel in the simple fact that the blow failed to damage him in any perceptible way. Link stamps a boot on the warlock's chest while hanging onto his hookshot as they smash into a thick tree trunk. His enemy pinned against the tree, the Hylian unleashes a rush of left crosses to Ganondorf's face, bashing his morphing visage over and over again. After landing one final blow, Link grinds his knuckles into his nemesis's face, attempting to crush his head with the gauntlet's power.

"I grow tired of this," the Gerudo growls with the gauntlet mashed against his cheek, slowly turning his head despite Link's best efforts to keep him pinned. An unexpected headbutt rocks the Hylian, sending him sprawling off the tree and stumbling back to regain his focus. Marching toward his foe with bad intentions, Ganondorf throws a heavy punch, expecting the hero to dodge. Refusing to back down to power alone, Link returns fire with a mirrored punch, the warriors fists bouncing off each other with neither having the clear advantage of force. Angered by the display of determination from what should be a weaker opponent, the Gerudo continues the onslaught, a barrage of powerful punches from varying angles flying without restraint. The hammer and anvil continue to meet between the foes, the force of each impact causing spheres of force to expand through the torrential rain. Each and every punch bounces off Link's fist, and after carefully analyzing the recurring pattern of strikes, he sidesteps a punch, landing one all his own. The blow to the ribs knocks Ganondorf back a step, but still fails to cause any sort of lasting damage. Realizing the gauntlets alone cannot win him this fight, the Hylian decides to try something new.

Rushing forward, the Gerudo manages to latch onto Link's shoulder, preventing him from evading the coming uppercut. Attempting to block proves disastrous, the heavy strike to his shielded stomach picking the hero up off the ground and lining him up for the right cross. The blow lands hard upon the Hylian's jaw, and after spiraling back to the ground, he is temporarily disoriented. Immediately diving over for the kill, Ganondorf is taken by surprise when Link's hookshot fires strait up into the air just as he prepares to smash the grounded enemy. Missing the warlock's head, the chain pulls the Hylian up to the branch overhead, and the hero smirks when he sees his ruse has worked. His vision finally snapping back to the ground, the Gerudo finds a bomb where his nemesis departed, the black orb rolling over and tapping against his boot. The blast throws him across the clearing, snapping through a series of thin trees at the perimeter before his momentum subsides. Angrily throwing the debris from his form, he climbs to his feet to find Link charging forward, his sword and shield finally making their debut in the fight. Ganondorf's eyelid descends and the feeling of pelting rain fades as his body is overwhelmed with warmth. He is within Din's reach, her arms extending around him, but still she waits, a yearning for him to embrace her himself restraining her grasp. He is out of room, and out of time. There is nothing but fire, and pain, and death everywhere but her arms. The heat is overwhelming, and now he must make his choice.

The hero dashes past a house as he attempts to corner his enemy in the dense foliage. A ball of energy blasts from the Gerudo's palm and the house explodes, throwing Link off course as the wreckage envelops him. Ganondorf charges forward, looking for the upper hand as his foe recovers from the blast. Suddenly, the hero inexplicably descends from above with a spirited war cry, narrowly glancing his target as his blade stabs down into the earth. Reeling from the near miss, the warlock attempts to regain his footing while Link rips his blade from the ground, flipping into a vertical spin-slash while grabbing hold of his shield. With no time to react or counter, the king of thieves awkwardly dodges and evades while backpedaling, the Hylian's sword techniques continually missing by a negligible margin. Back in the center of the clearing, Link spins forward, launching his shield at Gaondorf's knees in an attempt to catch him off balance. Kicking a boot forward, the Gerudo knocks the attack back at its source, unintentionally giving his foe a stepping stone into the coming attack. His sword already over his shoulder, the hero's mighty swing has commenced, slicing through raindrops and descending upon the off-balance warrior. In this, the most critical moment of the fight, Ganondorf's senses betray him as a hand of impossible warmth slides up between his shoulder blades. He is now within the orb, and staring into his goddess's gorgeous yellow eyes as her pouty lips drift closer and closer to his. Yielding to her advances, he scoops his hands around her waist, the undeniable power injecting into his veins and charging through his body like a potent drug. A puff of her breath encircles his neck like a collar of passion, and the long sought embrace has finally occurred.

The Gerudo's eyes open to find Link's blade about to split his head down the middle. All this power bestowed upon him, and still, he will die in such a way. Moving in slow-motion, the emotion in the hero's eyes is not rage or hatred. It is a look Ganondorf has despised for more years than he can remember. It is a look of necessity. An untapped well of unfathomable power contained and focused within a cage of honor and duty. It has never been the Hylian's power he grew jealous of, but his determination to keep it restrained and locked away, never truly unleashing his full potential. Rising out of his form, Din lifts a single hand, catching the coming blade in a force field of sorts as time returns to its normal pace. Not bothering to attempt to free his blade, Link stares at the goddess in horror as she idly pushes the blade aside with invisible force. The Hylian has always been told he is the goddess's chosen hero. Each of them beckoned him to thwart Ganondorf's evil designs all those years ago, but now he stares into the focused eyes of a deity protecting the very evil he has sworn to destroy. Dropping his useless sword, he backs away, still staring in disbelief as the stunning woman stands immune to the rain and wind, existing in a realm all her own. Making her presence known for the first time in the battle, Navi drifts forward to confront the goddess.

"How dare you interfere," she scolds, her voice livid with contempt.

"The game has changed. If she can intervene, so can I," Din responds, her voice intimidating, yet calm.

"She aids her chosen," Navi explains, fearless in the face of a god. "As do we all. You mustn't fight in their stead."

"So be it," the goddess concedes, though her expression grows angrier before she vanishes. Utterly confused by what he's just witnessed, Link stares at the open air in a stupor as the rain bears down on him. Rising to his feet, Ganondorf's face has grown unrecognizable, distorted by dark magic he now resembles the evil pig-demon so many refer to him as. His discernment and reason have abandoned him in lieu of the most devastating power a mortal has ever known. Refusing to give Link another single moment to consider what he has seen and heard, Din's vessel rockets forward with murder in his eyes. Barely able to snatch his shield off the ground in time, the hero is violently knocked backward by a grizzly punch, soaring through the air horizontally as his shield flies away. A series of chains burst from every direction, emerging from tree branches, piles of rubble, as well as the very earth below, whipping around the airborne Hylian like a dozen lassos. Now trapped in a spider web of heavy, conjured iron, Link vainly attempts to free himself from the tightly constricting restraints. His ego and pride left behind, Ganondorf holds no need for theatrics any longer, charging his nemesis like a feral beast while he summons his ending blow. Pieces of rubble skip and roll toward the Gerudo as the vortex in his right hand takes on its own center of gravity. Stopping in front of the paralyzed hero, he reaches back, making certain he obtains enough power to obliterate him completely. Every tree in sight bends and buckles toward the dark energy source, the rain twisting and swirling into a tornado as nothing can escape the black hole emanating from the warlock's right hand. Dangling helplessly, Link braces for impact as the most destructive punch imaginable flies at his chest.

Diving into the fray, Saria screams as her sage summons all of its power to divert the coming attack. Defying laws of physics and nature, the small space between Ganondorf and his target is stretched out in a mind-bending moment, the punch failing to strike the Hylian, but releasing a hurricane of darkness all the same. A torrent of wind, sprouting trees, and tangling vines is summoned and annihilated as the unstoppable blast of evil is hardly slowed before it hits both Link and Saria with terrible force. All of the trees in the area collectively whip back and forth, many of them snapping in half as the explosion of force subsides. Marching over to assess the damage he has inflicted, the pig-demon grins crazily when he finds the hero unconsciously dangling, and the sage of the forest pathetically attempting to shield his wounded vessel lying nearby. The torrential rain has finally begun to relent, the hungry earth drinking the long awaited liquid down greedily. With an arrogant bellow, the Gerudo smashes the ethereal being with a back-fisted strike, snatching the green medallion left behind as the ghostly being is destroyed. Scarcely able to breathe, Saria stares up at Ganondorf, her eyes remaining defiant to the very end. Lifting a boot to crush the look from her face, a pain like no other bolts into the Gerudo king's body like lightning. Having managed to free his upper half, Link produced the single shard of the Master Sword he recovered, stabbing his foe with the last of his strength to protect his childhood friend. A primal roar of fear and pain echoes through the forest as Link removes the sharp shard of steel, preparing to stab him again. Rapidly spinning into a punch, Ganondorf hits the hero hard enough to shatter the chains suspending him, and send him into a distant tree with a bitter crunch. The sting of the Master Sword is a pain he will never shake from his subconscious. The most horrible sensation throbs from his wound and it is enough to cut his visit to the forest short. Without a second thought, he storms out of the area, throwing fallen trees and debris aside as he runs.

Back in the Lost Woods, Din's influence seems to lessen, and the Gerudo's thoughts gradually clear just like the storm clouds overhead. Failing to hide his pain, he meanders onward, holding his shoulder as he struggles to remember the way out. Of all that has happened, and all the sensations he has been subjected to, he now knows one thing for certain. He is being watched. A pair of eyes track his every move from the thick canopy overhead, waiting until he is out of earshot to make a move. The young ninja has finally perfected his breathing, but is still a long way from soundless movement techniques. Skipping through the branches weightlessly, he arrives at the next intersection to find no one there. A figure lying in a bed of foliage at the perimeter of the clearing catches his eye, and after dropping to a better vantage point, he sees a dark form collapsed in a bed of foliage. Assuming his wound was much worse than he let on, Linu drops to ground level, cautiously drifting closer to discover the fate of the demon. As the massive cape comes into focus, the inexperienced scout sees his folly far too late. Only the warlock's cape lies upon the ferns, rocks, and flowers, taking a humanoid shape at the right angle and distance. The fear paralyzing him completely, Linu doesn't dare turn around to realize what manner of beast is now casting its shadow over him.

## Guiding Light:

### Brighter Suns and Longer Shadows

All the tragedy and sorrow she has witnessed through the years of decline could not prepare Zelda for the overwhelming misery her people now endure. Every ounce of faith they have held onto through the rise of Ganondorf, and the drought that followed, has slipped through calloused fingers. The worst kind of sorrow. Sorrow born of hope. Every shop built by tired hands, obliterated in a senseless act of aggression. Every home passed down through generations, destroyed by a hopeless cause of focused violence. The people cannot imagine why the gods would curse them in such a way, but deep down, the queen can feel the heartless hands in the sky passing by without a second thought. There are far grander schemes at play than the fate of a collection of measly citizens, but even so, Zelda will not forsake her people on the whims of the divine. It is now she finally realizes the torment her father withstood day after day. To be responsible for so many lives, and still finding herself sitting on her hands, wondering if she has made the right choices. Seated atop the mighty sigil of the royal family, carved into a large slab of stone proudly displayed upon the staircase leading up into the castle, the queen gazes out into the desolation that was once the prosperous Castle Town.

She tells herself again and again that it could have been much worse. Only a dozen structures lost amongst a population of fifty or more. The casualties were equally low, but in her eyes, a single soul lost is no better than a thousand. Sorely missing her final traces of innocence, she sits hunched over with each hand squeezing the stone on either side of her hips. Anything but dignified, she has yet to so much as attend to her frazzled hair and ruined dress, simply waiting to see if the sun will shine at all on this tragic day. The seemingly endless rain finally faded away a short time ago, yet the queen hardly took notice of the drastic weather changes. The potent smell of soaked earth seems dirty and disgusting to her, the sort of thing she used to revel in now transforming into a cruel reminder of the subtle joys she must put out of mind. Her hair slaps against her back like a wet towel as she leaps from her perch, marching back into town with another compiled agenda in her head. The dark, grey clouds quickly tumble overhead, drifting into the mountainous north with a fierce wind howling high above. The few capable of heavy lifting create piles of broken boards and crumbled stone as the cleanup effort continues. Clearly exhausted, the weakened citizens and fatigued guardsmen soldier on, finding some unknown source of determination within themselves. Morning has drifted into afternoon, though the much cooler climate deceptively suggests otherwise, and Zelda decides the fatigued volunteers have earned a break.

"There's fresh food in the castle," she starts, collectively grabbing everyone's attention. "Get some rest. We'll pick up again later today."

"Thank you," one of the guards breathes, bowing before her.

"Please," the queen insists, still embarrassed by such formality. "You've more than earned it." The group slowly lumbers up the trail toward the castle, their throbbing muscles welcoming the prospect of hot food and a warm bed. Remaining behind, Zelda begins to move soaked husks of lumber and collect debris from filthy puddles of rain and dirt. Moving with a graceless sort of efficiency, her mind slowly quiets through the repetitive task. Nayru has bombarded her ceaselessly with visions of the past, present, and future. Thoughts not her own seamlessly merge into ideas and beliefs. Despite the realization, she has yet to find any means of quelling the fusion of the goddess's will into her own. The manual labor provides a much needed reprieve from her stresses and obligations, and with no one around to take notice, she can simply be her inelegant self. An hour passes and the queen is surprised at the progress she has made. The removal of corpses from the streets was made the top priority, and with that task long since completed, only the damage dealt by the catapults and the ruined drawbridge remains to be addressed. The reconstruction has yet to even enter her mind as thinking too far ahead seems to invite Nayru in to offer her opinion. Only having let her guard down for a moment, Zelda is almost taken by surprise to discover a presence approaching from behind.

"Hi," Rho greets, still as detached as ever, though he seems to have made some social progress.

"Hello, Rho," the queen reciprocates with a genuine smile. Attempting to gather some degree of poise, she straitens up and ceases working for the moment. "How've you been holding up?"

"Alright," he shrugs, seemingly lost. His mannerisms indicate he is not exactly sure why he sought her out in the wake of such a tragedy. "Need some help?"

"I'd be lying if I turned you down," she admits, shedding all manner of formality. "Feeling strong today?" A shrug is all the boy offers, scratching his nose nervously as he averts his eyes from Zelda's partially exposed thighs beneath her shredded dress. "Grab that end," she points out, crouching beside a heavy dresser she had been avoiding until someone returned to help. Promptly doing as he is told, Rho scoops his end off the ground easily, helping the queen relocate the furniture in the pile of salvageable wood. "Did your house survive the attack? How's your mom?"

"Yeah, yeah," he nods, continuing to gather miscellaneous objects. "She was pretty shaken up. Kept talking to my dad's picture on the wall."

"That's understandable," Zelda sighs, thinking of how desperate her citizens must be getting at this point. "I'm just glad you're alright."

"Thanks," he starts, trailing off as he fails to come up with anything else to say. After a time of silence, the tedious task clearing the young boy's mind as well, the conversation resumes. "Did Link stop the bulbin?"

"Yes," she nods with a pleasant smile. "The guards kept them out of the city, and Link showed up just in time."

"I thought so. My dad used to say mean things about him when we passed the statue in the square. He doesn't hate him or anything. He just thought it should be a knight standing there instead," he expresses, beginning to think he is insinuating too much. It was only days ago he still dreamed of a statue of himself being erected in Link's place once his acts of heroism spread across the land. Acts he always knew he would be capable of until his mettle was tested in the most extreme of scenarios.

"I can see where he's coming from," she must admit, Link's exalted status essentially sidestepping all the brave men of the past who gave their lives for the good of the realm. "I think we'll have a vote for the next statue," she starts, pouring on the optimism in hopes of getting a smile from the boy. "An even bigger one for the brand new square. Now that the rain has come back there'll be food and work for everyone. Castle Town will be better than ever. What do you think?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, spotting the group of workers marching down the distant hill. "What about Kakariko?" He adds with an unintentional degree of pessimism. "People are still getting sick too." With no words to offer in return, Zelda is blindsided by yet another vision eclipsing her world in the moments between seconds. Leaning over a windowsill, she is high above her town, overlooking her kingdom as rivers and mountains are slowly pulled apart into an abyss at the center. The colossal ring of flame has accelerated its pace, but now pales in comparison to the dark void consuming the kingdom. The dark figure's features are still undiscernible, but his hand remains extended to her, almost pleading she accept his uncertain proposal. The tall spire she sits in begins to bend into the vortex, the desert sands and the lush forest tumbling in behind the ominous figure. Unsure what she can do, the queen holds on for dear life as her tower falls, the sudden push of gravity constricting a gasp out of her throat. Suddenly returning to the present, she takes a moment to shake the frightening daydream as the workers return in force. Rho has disappeared, his permanent fear of social interaction seeming to only lessen when talking to Zelda.

"Getting her hands dirty," a husky woman laughs, nodding with agreement. "I can get used to this monarchy." A delicate curtsy from the queen is met with a healthy laugh from the group, her antics rapidly garnishing respect from her people.

"We won't worry about transporting the raw materials until the rest is sorted and we have an idea of inventory. The bulk of the damage was done near the gates. If a couple of you would help me finish up here, the rest can go ahead and get started on the south side," she instructs, looking from face to face to let each individual know they are appreciated.

"We can stay back," one of the two guards proclaims, socking his partner in the arm as he steps forward.

"Very well. I'll meet up with the rest of you soon," Zelda announces, ushering the rest of the group out of the area. Marching over to a large chunk of stone, she inspects it thoroughly, aiming to determine the best way to move it. With a knowing glance, both of the guards proceed over to her.

"My queen. If I may be so bold," he starts, bowing slightly.

"Please, stop," she chuckles, unwinding in the presence of her trusted guard. "I beg you to speak freely. This is hardly the time or the place for such formalities."

"I am sworn to an oath of respect as well as protection," he points out, standing up strait and relaxing a little. "But I shall try. We know you've scarcely rested since the king's passing," he continues, his comrade nodding in agreement. "We admire your willingness to help tremendously, but please return to the castle, if only to rest briefly."

"I fear rest will not find me for many days to come, but I could definitely go for some chow right about now," she admits with a modest smile, patting her growling stomach. "Thank you for your concern. I'll be back shortly." Each of the guards bow until she has started up the hill, the moist ground making the gradual climb more difficult than usual. All the times her father mentioned her natural charm, she never truly understood what he meant. She is not simply another grandiose royal, always remaining in the castle and turning her nose up at the commoners. She is a citizen of Hyrule, modest enough to declare she is no more important than anyone else. It shows through her speeches, and even more so, it shows through her actions. The main foyer of the castle is teeming with people. Women attempt to secure food for the very young while the children run rampant through the halls, driving the few guards crazy. Climbing to a suitable speaking height upon the massive staircase in the center of the room, Zelda addresses her angry and disheartened people.

"Hello, everyone," she starts, waiting for the majority to quiet down and turn their heads. "I know many of you are tired and hungry, so I'll be brief. The danger has passed and the cleanup is well underway. If you prefer to remain in the castle walls, you are welcome to do so, but anyone wanting to return to your homes, please feel free. King Bulbin has fallen, and his minions have fled back into the mountains. I assure you, wherever you decide to stay, you will be safe," she proclaims, the general attitude of the room softening as she continues. "The guard will be repositioned to focus their efforts on the perimeter of the town, and I will personally be moving about to hear your concerns. We are all in this together, and no one person's troubles are more important than the next. I beg you all to come together and rebuild the ties within the community. We all wait now with such burden and sorrow, but the dawn is coming still. We have endured this grand trial of the gods, and our reward is the desperately missed rain. The recovery has begun. Please," she pauses as an oddly dressed individual marches into the room. "A messenger?" She mumbles, waiting for the man to make his way through the rabble.

"Indeed," the man nods, curiously glancing about. "I would speak to your king in private, your grace."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," the queen promptly declines, standing proudly upon the staircase despite her ragged appearance. "My father has succumbed to illness and has departed from this world. Whatever manner of message you bring, it affects us all. Please, tell us."

"That is grievous news, and you have my condolences," he concedes, obviously uncomfortable in this informal setting. "The Arcadian forces have been routed. Gamelon bids Hylian troops farewell as they prepare to set sail for their homeland. They shall arrive within the week." The news electrifies the room with joyous smiles and cheers, everyone gathering closer to listen to the news. "Gamelon extends its arms to offer any manner of aid your highness requires to rejuvenate the state of your realm," he offers, awaiting a response.

"A welcome message, and it is well received," Zelda smiles, considering his proposal. "Any food and building material your kingdom can spare will be much appreciated as we have suffered an attack of our own."

"Certainly," the man agrees with a slight nod. "I'll dispatch a messenger bird and the ships will be stocked with food and lumber immediately. Is there anything else, your highness?"

"Just bring our men home. That is all," she concludes with a stoic grin. The packed room erupts with cheers, several of the struggling citizens breaking into tears at the thought of their sons and husbands returning. Descending back into the room, Zelda is happily received, one elderly woman even stepping forward to give her a weak hug. The jubilee continues all the way outside, the cool afternoon seeming uplifting and refreshing, even though the smell repulsed the queen only a short time ago. Many of the refugees taking shelter in the castle make their way back into town, eager to prepare their homes for the return of the soldiers. The scene is almost too surreal. She had not expected the war to end so soon, and the messenger's timing could not have been more perfect. Sensing a presence drift through the castle grounds, Zelda quickly circles around the moat away from the crowd, murmuring a spell before teleporting atop the tall walls of the castle gardens. Waiting with grim expressions, her Sheikah scouts have arrived with news from around the kingdom. After a deep, foreboding breath, she descends down to greet them in a blink of magic and light. "Where's Linu?" The queen asks, his more reputable skills including punctuality.

"We had hoped you could tell us," Ashei responds with a heartfelt sigh.

"It must have been him," Sanzu nods, glancing at Ashei before stepping forward to report her findings.

"Don't tell me," Zelda gasps, praying her decision to send him to the forest wasn't a mistake.

"I tracked the blonde who led the Bulbin assault back into the desert. She is of the Gerudo, though they do not treat her as such," Sanzu reveals, dreading the next fact she uncovered. "Ganondorf was riding hard to the west with a pair of guards as I returned. One of them had an individual concealed beneath a burlap bag. They've surely captured him," she reports, her voice struggling to remain void of emotion.

"I will retrieve him at once," the queen declares as a spiral of light engulfs her form. The brief whirlwind subsides, and a determined Sheik prepares to depart in her ninja garb.

"You mustn't," Ashei declares, stepping forward. "What if something were to happen to you? Think of your kingdom."

"I will not leave him at Ganondorf's mercy," the ninja fumes, clearly letting her emotions get the better of her.

"I'll go," Sanzu breathes, leveling her stare at Sheik. "I know the fortress inside and out. If he is there, I will find him." Considering her proposal for a moment, Zelda responds.

"Do not challenge Ganondorf. Under any circumstance," she demands, eyeing her disciple carefully to be certain she understands. A solemn nod later, she gives the scout leave to conduct her rescue operation.

"It's for the best," Ashei attempts to comfort, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"No," the queen promptly refutes, batting it away. "I sent him. It should be me going."

"What good are we to you if you can't trust us to go in your stead?" She argues, crossing her arms and patiently waiting for her overburdened leader to reach the same conclusion.

"Boam," Zelda calls, staring at the ground and attempting to control herself. "You're quieter than usual. I hope you have better news."

"The Goron have themselves a new leader. His name is Link," he reports with a sarcastic smirk. "Darunia's son was expelled when Gor Coron took control of the tribe and started the mining operations. He came back with a vengeance," he smirks, his brow sharpening for the next bit of news. "Unfortunately for him, Ganondorf arrived just after he became patriarch. The sage of fire is dead," he reveals, hanging his head with a somber sorrow.

"The Bulbin were a distraction," the blonde Sheikah reflects, cursing herself for not realizing sooner. "Of course they were. The assault was hopeless from the start."

"There's more. I've been banished from Death Mountain, as have all races but the Goron. This Link character doesn't seem to care he was named after the Hylian who saved his people. He's turned his back on the throne, and if we don't do anything, he may be considering a sovereign state," Boam admits, his tone deadly serious.

"The Goron haven't the resources for such a thing," Zelda sighs, considering how to handle the situation diplomatically. Her father's dream was always a unified kingdom. Should the Goron dismiss their allegiance in lieu of their own banner, the other races would surely follow suit.

"One more thing," the scout interrupts, obviously unsure if he should reveal the final piece of information. "The patriarch was acting strangely when I arrived. Like he was hiding something. I waited on the trail, but never expected to see anything," he pauses, finding his leader's eyes. "The boy in the hood traveled down the mountain and entered Kakariko. I lost him in the graveyard."

"Keep an eye on the Goron, Boam," Sheik instructs after gathering her thoughts for a moment. "Keep your distance, though. I don't want to provoke an incident. Ashei," she starts, looking to her suspicious student.

"What are you planning?" Ashei interrupts, scowling at Zelda wryly as she attempts to decipher her motives.

"Partner with Malune and instruct whatever guardsmen we can spare to transition people back into their homes. Not a single soul enters this town without your knowledge. Understood?" She continues to inform, ignoring the question. Ashei nods slowly but doesn't break her glare, certain the queen intends to do something drastic. Remaining in her ninja ensemble, Zelda nimbly runs several steps up the tall wall bordering the gardens. Springing atop the structure, she turns back to add, "I think it's time we found out who this boy in the hood really is."

## Hylian Hero:

### A Way through Darker Places

A cool wind whips through the damp forest, the heavy rain finally dying down to a subtle mist. Link doesn't notice the bitter taste of grass brushing against his lips, or the haunting sound of creaking trees overhead. Again and again he stabs his fingers into the wet earth, dragging himself forward at a negligible pace. The pain in his chest is overwhelming, and with every extension and retraction of his arm, the green and brown setting tilts and spins a little harder. Expelling a breath of suppressed pain, he finally reaches his childhood friend. Involuntarily wobbling ever so slightly, Saria couldn't possibly appear more fragile, the destructive blast of darkness having overwhelmed her feeble defenses. Staring up into the trees, her eyes slowly drift over to Link, struggling to prop himself up next to her. Her eyes tell him the whole story. She is fading fast, though she seems content to die in his arms. Vainly attempting to lift an arm, Link immediately grabs her hand, squeezing it tightly as the girl simply closes her eyes and smiles.

"I always prayed you were one of us, Link," she reveals, her breaths becoming shorter and weaker as she gazes into the hero's eyes. "The day you got a fairy was," she starts, tears streaming over her cheeks as she struggles to put her racing thoughts into meaningful words. "I was so happy. I thought," she pauses, her breathing becoming more and more sporadic. "I thought we could be together." Though the confession is far from earth shattering, the potential to lose her sends the Hylian into a sort of mental shock. The damage being done to his soul is too traumatic to be felt right away, and like a boulder falling upon him and smashing a limb, his adrenaline is the only thing keeping him going. He continues to stare at her ageless face, the essence of purity and kindness, reduced to such a state by an entity of boundless aggression. "Link," she coos, the word breathed more than spoken as her eyes drift back to the treetops. He doesn't feel his body grow cold and numb, or notice the entire forest begin to spin into a blinding blur, but as the wet grass presses against his face, he feels consciousness leave him.

A blissful kind of warmth overtakes his senses as Link begins to wake from his deep sleep. The wonderful feeling of soft flesh against his almost pushes him back into a dream state, but a rapid influx of probabilities jolt him awake in a serene setting. Shoving the nude woman off of himself, Link rolls to his feet as hundreds of fairies blast up into the air, blinding him with natural light. Waiting on the ground in a seductive position, the Great Fairy's voluptuous form is concealed only by her dazzling golden hair draping down about her shoulders in a wild weave of braids and vines. The hero's body feels stronger than ever, the harm caused by Ganondorf seemingly reversed entirely by the fairy's magic. Still, Link knows he cannot linger, the great fairies throughout Hyrule having developed a frightening infamy during the difficult years of drought. As their fountains dried up, so too did their generosity and kind nature. Dozens of men and women have been lured to the magical sanctuaries never to be seen again, the lifeforce presumably sucked from their bodies by the healers turned succubi. Shooting the suspicious hero a look of fragility and weakness, the Great Fairy remains on the scarcely moist base of her fountain surrounded by smaller pixies.

"There you are!" Navi declares, darting into the room. "Are you okay? What did you do to him?" She accuses, turning her scorn toward the woman on the floor.

"Eh hmm hmm hmm," she giggles, her haunting voice amplified in the small cave. "Your friend was weak. Left at death's door. I would not harm a goddess's chosen," she concludes with another subtle laugh.

"Keep your hands to yourself! The rain has come. Your fountain will be restored soon," Navi points out, fuming at the fairy's boldness.

"Your disguise won't fool him forever. He's a smart lad. Handsome too," she adds, arching her back and climbing to her feet. Before Navi can utter another word, the Great Fairy shrieks with crazed laughter as her body glows with light, bursting into dozens of tiny fairies as the maniacal snickers echo through the room. Scowling through the sea of winged creatures, Link turns to leave, making his way through the dark passage, and emerging into the forest. Holding his palm to his brow, he attempts to shake off the drowsy state the fairy left him in while navigating through the familiar section of the woods. The afternoon has come and gone leaving him cursing the generous rest he was granted while Ganondorf roams Hyrule freely. He had the demon's number until Din appeared, protecting her investment of power for some unknown purpose. Overwhelmed with grief, he cannot process the grand scheme of the Gods logically, thoughts of Saria weighing heavily on his mind and quickly drowning out all manner of reason. Suddenly, Garo's words eclipse the rest of his thoughts entirely. Everything has changed. The time for heroes has passed. You will fail.

"The Kokiri grabbed you while I was talking to Mido. I didn't expect to find you back on your feet. Please don't look so down," Navi murmurs, anxious about interrupting Link's deep thought. "You did everything you could. We must find the remaining shards of the Master Sword," she informs, trying desperately to get some kind of response. The Master Sword. Find the pieces. Collect the medallions. Light the torches. It is always some tedious endeavor he finds himself doing time and time again. All the while, people are left to suffer and even die while he plays these silly games. He can defeat Ganondorf without the blade of evil's bane. He knows it in his heart. If not for the goddess's intervention, this would all be over. Saria...

The trek through the Lost Woods passes him by without a hitch, his subconscious guiding him through the path traveled a hundred times. The entire kingdom seems to be coming apart at the hinges. The drought, the king's death, the Bulbin assault, and Ganondorf's treachery all pile upon the hero's back, pushing his usually complaint-free mind over the edge. Din had mentioned something about the game changing, as did Garo. She spoke to Navi as if they were equals. Stopping in his tracks, the Hylian's suspicions have grown too large to ignore. Something seems amiss in the forest, and before he exits the Lost Woods, he turns to discover the source of the feeling. "Come on out, kid," Navi calls, irritated by the insufferable adolescent.

"S-sorry for following you," the skull kid admits, his wide-brimmed bucket hat hanging down over his face. Moving closer with a shameful sort of pace, he keeps his face hidden as he reaches the duo. "I-I wanted t-to tell you," he starts, sitting down and crossing his legs in his lap.

"Well," Navi blurts out impatiently. "What is it? We don't have time for this."

"The Great Fairy agreed to heal her, but only if we gave her Link," he declares, resolute in avoiding eye-contact for the duration of the conversation.

"Heal her?" Navi asks, thinking for a moment before blurting out the obvious. "Saria?"

"She's still weak, but she'll be alright. She just needs time to rest," he reveals, eyeing the Hylian for a brief instant before returning his gaze to his lap. A tremendous weight lifted from his shoulders, Link is visibly shaken for a moment, exhaling a long breath before a calm smile steals over his face. He was certain he felt the life drift out of her grasp, but it seems it was his own weariness that created the sensation.

"I'm glad she's okay, but you gave Link to the Great Fairy?" Navi scolds, furious she hadn't kept a closer eye on her unconscious companion. "You of all people should know how dangerous they've become."

"I know, but it was the only way," he meekly admits, sighing heavily before adding, "and it... I..."

"Spit is out kid," the hovering pixie impatiently demands, wondering what more the troublemaker could have possibly done.

"It was my fault," he whimpers, keeping his chin to his chest as he rocks himself slightly.

"What? What are you talking about?" Navi asks, her tone softening a little.

"Ganon came into the Lost Woods. I-I didn't think he'd ever make it through, but he started chasing after me. Like he could smell me or something. I didn't know what to do," he declares, becoming emotional. "I ran to the village to escape. He followed me there."

"Are you insane!" Navi shouts, appalled by the admission. Instantly raising a silencing hand, Link kneels next to the kid, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Shaking and sobbing slightly, he lifts his head to look at the hero's empathetic face. A virtually featureless orb, the skull kid's face resembles that of a sad scarecrow, standing alone in a field of crops. With a groan of irritation, Navi sees where this is going.

"Hey, what do you say we get him a new mask? He helped Saria after all, and you did break the last one," the fairy points out with a matter-of-fact tone, bobbing about overhead. The offer lights up the kid's plain face, his round orange eyes growing wide at the prospect.

"The mask salesman left town a while back, but I know where to find him!" He exclaims, jumping to his feet and quickly putting his sad thoughts out of mind. An assuring nod from Link initiates an energetic advance into the woods, the kid glancing back and gesturing for the pair to keep up.

"Wait," Navi starts, realizing she should have been clearer. "I didn't mean right this second!" Setting a casual pace, Link begins to follow the troublemaker, having grown suspicious of Navi's demeanor lately. There is something she's not telling him. Something important. Something about the goddesses. The skull kid moves through the dense foliage and tangling roots with an unnatural ease, diving and flipping through obstacles with an efficiency that couldn't be referred to as grace, but more of a practiced efficiency. Link's thoughts return to Saria, her assumed last words a declaration of love that was never meant to be. He thinks of Garo's warning, and Din's subtle proclamation of change. The Great Fairy is not to be trusted, but even she mentioned something about a disguise. The Hylian finds himself on the precipice of a revelation, but before he knows it, they've reached their destination.

"This is it! Remember, Link?" He asks, glancing to the hero's blank face with anticipation. "I guess not," he shrugs after a moment of silence.

"Is that what I think it is?" Navi asks, suddenly very interested in the random patch of brownish-orange grass.

"Only one way to find out," the kid laughs, leaping into the air and tucking himself into a ball. Falling through the ground as if the discolored grass were an open window, the kid disappears without a trace. Curiously inspecting the portal with a bit of dread, the Hylian prepares to follow suit when Navi chimes in.

"Wait," she starts, her tone changing drastically as she searches for the right words. Stepping away from the dimensional door, Link crosses his arms and knits his brow. "I think it's time I came clean about all of this. I know you're confused about what's been happening," she sighs, obviously not looking forward to what she is about to say. Assuming she can sense his discontent, the Hylian simply listens to what words she has to offer. "When you returned the Master Sword all those years ago, I was happy you could live out your childhood. It wasn't fair for the sages to take that from you, but once the sword was returned, I disappeared because... I had to," she admits, realizing her story has yet to make a lot of sense. "The Triforce was safe, and the essence you received wasn't necessary anymore. I guess," she pauses, her nervousness amplifying gradually. "What I'm trying to say is, you never received a fairy as a child. Hylians don't get fairies. I chose you," she reveals as a sudden rush of green light and swirling wind surrounds her in a torrential rush of nature.

The tiny fairy Link has known his entire life transforms into a beautiful young woman, the influx of magic dissipating as she opens her eyes. Standing just a tad shorter than the hero, she clasps her hands behind her back, staring at her chosen with anxious green eyes. Her seemingly short, green hair hangs down on either side of her face, the bulk of it fashioned into a large, looped ponytail hanging from the top of her head like a door knocker resting on her back. A minimalistic green dress clings to her pale skin, falling into a short skirt high above her bare feet. His eyes wide and unbelieving, Link stares into the goddess's childlike face without words to offer. "Well," she giggles, averting her eyes before returning them to the Hylian's dropped jaw. "Say something!" A brief series of indecipherable gasps, is all the hero can produce, the revelation monumental, but suddenly putting a large number of questions in perspective.

"Hey! Are you just going to stand there gawking?" She asks with an amused smile. Her expression suddenly shifting to a sadder demeanor, she looks to the ground before continuing. "When you put the sword back, I had to leave you. I had to let you live your life. Zelda," she pauses, the name striking a chord with her vengeful side. "She doesn't deserve you," she declares, glancing at his eyes to gauge his response. Expecting his expression to grow far more severe, she decides he is far less offended than she had assumed he would be. "When you came looking for me, you set a chain of events into motion," she starts, quickly changing the subject. "When you traveled to Termina, it changed everything. What you do now will determine the fate of Hyrule forever," she reveals, her gaze slowly becoming dreamy. "This will be the final battle. You will not fail," she insists, taking a step closer as she reads his soul like a book. Unfaltering and fearless up until recently, she knows he needs a reassuring voice now more than ever, though he would never admit as much. "I believe in you. I always have, and I always will." As she drifts in for a kiss, Link stands paralyzed, utterly confused by the grandiose plan of the goddesses, and reeling at the thought of Farore's intentions. Sensing his trepidation, the goddess summons another rush of wind and light, transforming back into the fairy companion Link has grown accustomed to. "I'm sorry," she gasps, floating erratically, yet relieved she didn't go too far. "We shouldn't keep the kid waiting," she awkwardly adds, dipping down toward the portal. "Everything will become clearer soon. I promise." With that she drops through the dimensional window, leaving the hero with his hand outstretched, and failing to voice his protest in time. His head spinning from the endless discoveries, the hero shakes his thoughts free and reestablishes his determination.

Through the portal Link struggles to determine his bearings in the extreme darkness. A horrific sort of nostalgia grips his form when the skull kid shouts for him in the distance. Drifting past his head, Navi lights the way forward, revealing the Hylian's next obstacle as he is forced to climb and leap his way through the grassy cove. Memories of Majora begin to seep into his mind, the cursed mask wreaking havoc on the peaceful inhabitants of Termina. Utilizing his hookshot to cross one final gap, Link jogs down a warped hallway before emerging into the massive clock from his oldest memories. Rounding the staircase leading upward, he passes massive cogs utilizing a river to power the gears. The surreal environment from his dreams is exactly as her remembers. Moving into earshot, the sound of rushing water and cranking wood is overcome with heightened voices.

"You! You stay away from me!" A thin man wearing a backpack twice his size declares. Struggling to keep a smile beneath his bowl-cut hair, the man garbed in a purple robe keeps his distance from the skull kid.

"We come in peace," Navi asserts, drifting closer to the man than he would prefer. The light emanating from the fairy further illuminates the man, revealing the dozens of masks attached to his novelty-sized pack. "We'd like to purchase a mask," she half mumbles, suddenly very interested in the mask salesman, circling him several times.

"Okay, okay, okay," the pale salesman exclaims, creating some distance between himself and the fairy with no sense of personal space. "Just, you stay there, and I'll stand here," he instructs, clearly very nervous about the surging population within the clock as he points zealously.

"You alright?" Navi inquires with a suspicious tone.

"Fine! Just fine," he grins, adjusting his backpack and clasping his hands together as his voice and demeanor dramatically shifts from uncomfortably anxious to unnervingly calm. "A mask is why you've come? Fantastic. I must warn you however, I cannot sell a mask unless it will make the buyer happy."

"I want a skull mask. A scary one!" The kid proclaims, crossing his arms and glancing at Link.

"A skull?" He patronizes, wiggling his fingers. "Scary indeed." Reaching behind himself, the salesman produces a mask resembling the skull of some sort of beast. Dangling the accessory in front of the kid, the thin man considers its worth. "Hmmmm, fifty rupees."

"What?" The kid exclaims, holding out his arms in an unbelieving pose. "Give me a break."

"You're right," the salesman smiles, taking a cocky stance. "For you, seventy-five. Call it a trouble you've caused me tax."

"This is just highway robbery. Tell him, Link!" The kid demands, tugging on the hero's tunic. Simply rolling his eyes, the Hylian steps over to the salesman, pulls seventy-five rupees from his pouch, and drops them into the squinty-eyed dealer's hand. Immediately dashing across the room, the kid snatches the mask from the man's grasp, retreating to a shadowy corner to try it on. His business concluded, Link turns to leave when the salesman offers a proposal.

"Wait a moment. You look rather familiar," he declares, poking his head forward to better study the hero's face. "Indeed! You're the very boy who retrieved my precious mask! My, it's been quite some time hasn't it?"

"It has," Navi chimes in, her tone remaining accusative of the salesman. "You look well."

"I don't recall this one, though," he smiles, rubbing his chin as he stares at the fairy.

"I wasn't with him at the time," she informs, strangely hostile toward the man. "I seem to recall seeing you in Hyrule. Castle Town market?"

"Oh yes, yes. I am a traveling salesman. I go wherever happiness is needed," he nods, rubbing his hands together in what is becoming an obsessive manner. Though he couldn't see it when he was young, Link senses something bizarre and unnatural about not only the man's antics, but his anachronistic presence. Navi's continual interrogation seemed rude at first, but more and more it is seeming to become justified.

"You mean where you're told to go," the fairy corrects, almost completely wiping the smile from the salesman's face.

"Careful," he warns, pronouncing the word slowly. "I don't know who you are, but I deal in happiness," he cautions, his erratic mannerisms pausing for only a moment before he turns his attention back to Link. "Your friend could benefit from some manners, but that is hardly my concern. You, young master," he pauses, giving the Hylian a harder look up and down. "Well, not nearly so young anymore. You have helped me more than words can say. Please, allow me to return the favor. I will give you any mask you desire, free of charge." Sighing at the meager proposal, Link decides they are wasting time with such childish endeavors. Subtly shaking his head, he turns to leave, waving for Navi to join him. "Wait, please!" The salesman pleads, sounding much more desperate than he intended. After clearing his throat, he regains his composure as the hero turns back and eyes him suspiciously.

"What good will a mask do us?" Navi asks, attempting to motivate her chosen's departure more so than receive an answer.

"It's unwise to underestimate the power of a mask. They are magic without magic. The simple act of concealing your face can show you who you really are," he advertises, twitching nervously as the skull kid casually reappears at Link's side.

"You seem uneasy," Navi points out, continuing to ridicule the man.

"Not all are so kind as you," he smirks, his tone making the task of determining whether he is being sarcastic or serious excessively difficult. "If you would be so kind as to accept a mask, I would feel as though my debt to you is fulfilled. It would make me very happy, and I suspect I have something amongst my wares that would make you happy as well."

"Link, I," Navi starts, cut off as the Hylian steps forward with an irritated grumble. Producing a display table from seemingly nowhere, the salesman lays out a wide variety of masks. A fox with some kind of high-tech headgear. An Italian with a red cap and bushy mustache. A farmer with a bright blue cap reversed on his head. Dozens of absurd faces from mummies to magi to demons. Scanning the display with little interest, one mask does stand out from the rest. Studying it carefully, Link sees that it strongly resembles him, as if he were looking into an altered mirror. White hair springs from beneath a pale, blue cap in the hero's signature style. The face itself seems as if it were molded from his own, covered with tribal war paint about the eyes creating an intimidating impression. Sensing his interest, the salesman swoops in to seal the deal.

"A fine choice. It's been said the Fierce Deity mask rivals the power of mighty Majora. The wearer is infused with the power of a God," he explains, chuckling at Link's intense interest. "Of course those are just legends. However, if you're interested, it's all yours."

"Did she put you up to this?" Navi asks, her strange questions falling on deaf ears as her hero considers his options. A mask to rival the power of Majora. It would have come in handy when he battled the demon all those years ago, but fortunately he emerged victorious on his own merit. The sages continue to be hunted down and killed like dogs. Days would surely pass before he has gathered every shard of the Master Sword. Even then he would have to find a way to forge the sacred metal back together. By then it could be far too late. Saria nearly died in his arms because of his lack of power. Because of his involuntary submission to a God. Ilia, Malon, or even Zelda could suffer a worse fate. The goddesses play some manner of game with the lives of everyone he cares for, and while their motives remain a mystery, Link feels as though he cannot afford to wait and see. Too many have died already, and many more are sure to follow if things continue as they've been. He needs the mask, if only long enough to save the realm from the careless whims of the Gods.

"I don't like that one, Link," the skull kid admits, shaking his head beneath his new mask. "It looks just like me."

"This won't protect you from her," Navi sighs, consistently seeming to be having a wholly different conversation when talking to the salesman. "You must know what she intends."

"Hey, hey," the narrow-eyed mask clerk grins, his anxious demeanor long gone now that Link seems fascinated by the item. "Just let the man make his choice," he pleads, his tone becoming obnoxiously friendly as his grin widens. "Then we can all go home."

## The Empty Handed:

### Some Loves Can Conquer Fears

"It's for the best, you know," Mai points out as Rift makes the gradual descent down Death Mountain. The rain has ceased, and the drastic drop in temperature is a welcome replacement to the scorcher of a summer the boy has endured. The evening sun has already begun its plunge into the horizon, and night will be upon him soon enough. "Once they've stopped bowing to the crown, the Goron can rebuild their civilization. They were a proud race once, but the war divided them, and eventually they became dependent on the castle's aid," she explains, unsure why she feels the need to conduct the history lesson, but essentially just trying to make small talk.

"Yeah," he nods, tumbling back into the recesses of his mind. The races all swore fealty to the king, and now it has cost them all dearly. Only the Gerudo emerged unscathed, as the king refused to send the highly skilled women to war. The obvious answer is each of the races gaining independence, but it was their lack of discourse that lead to war in the first place. His head beginning to ache, the concepts of sovereignty and loyalty remain just outside of his realm of comprehension. "Mai?"

"Mmm?" She responds, appearing atop the boy's shoulders once again, leaning forward to study his face beneath his new hood.

"How are we going to save Hyrule?" He inquires, no longer uncomfortable with her consistent physical interaction. "Do we have to beat the other three chosen? What are your sisters trying to do?" He asks, each question springing off his tongue the moment it pops into his head.

"Woah, those are some big questions," Mai proclaims, growing somewhat defensive. Adjusting herself atop his shoulders, she pokes her toes into his shoulder blades as she rests her chin in her hand, propped up by an elbow upon the boy's head. "My sisters want things to stay just the way they've been. They don't care that everyone suffers, they're just too proud to admit their creation is a failure," she explains, always becoming mildly bitter when her fellow deities are brought into the conversation. "Decade after decade it's all the same. We're going to break the cycle. Change everything for the better," she declares, looking out over Kakariko Village.

"But... How?" Rift asks, still unable to grasp the grand scheme of things.

"Just leave that to me," she smiles, leaning over the boy's hooded visage with an assuring smile before disappearing. "For now, there's a temple with our names on it. Head for the graveyard. Right over there," she expresses with a hint of excitement. Assuming she knows what is best, Rift continues forward, descending into the destroyed town as a handful of people attempt to clean up the rubble. Paying no attention to the boy, they work tirelessly, throwing broken planks of wood into a pile, and rolling chunks of stone out of the pathways. After rounding the massive crater at the center of town, Rift makes his way into the graveyard, the only portion of the village untouched by Ganondorf's attack, and his brief altercation with Link. A single row of bodies with blankets draped over them lines the path through the wooden entrance. A massive tombstone, visible through the large gate, stands as testament to the defenders of the royal family. The Sheikah. Beyond the stone, the graves ascend a small hill, dozens of them lining the square pathways.

"Hey!" A man's voice calls from a small shack near the entrance. Reclining in a rocking chair, the middle-aged man taps his thumb upon his shovel, speared into the ground next to him. His clothing is covered in dirt as he has clearly been hard at work recently. "The sun's settin' soon. The super heart-pounding grave digging tour's closed until further notice. If you want to pay your respects, do it tomorrow. The Poes will be out soon."

"Poes?" Rift asks, recalling the scary stories he's heard in the past of floating ghouls with narrow eyes who grab young children and stuff their souls into their lanterns. "I'm too old for that stuff," he chuckles, ignoring the meaningless threat.

"Oh, they're very real," the man assures, rising from his chair and shouldering his shovel. "You'll find out just how real if you stick around much longer, kid."

"I'll take my chances," the boy shrugs, spotting the wooden object lying next to the man's chair. Clearly designed to be some sort of spooky mask, the accessory reminds him of the stories of ReDeads, the thin husks of flesh that latch onto their prey and feast on their blood. Deciding the man is just out to scare him, Rift continues through the rows of tombstones as the groundskeeper vanishes into his shack. Walking atop the damp cobblestones, the boy sees several graves have been unearthed recently, their tombstones still blank. Assuming the destruction in the village is the cause of the recent deaths, he continues forward with a thoughtful demeanor. At the rear of the graveyard, a particularly large tombstone stands alone beneath a suspicious-looking cliff overlooking the area. Engraved upon the monument is a large rendition of the royal family's sigil, a mighty Loftwing crowned with the Triforce. Below, the inscription is a testament to the cherished departed.

Born of Kakariko, the mightiest of Sheikah lies here. Protector of the royal family, and guardian of truth and justice. Her spirit rises above all evil, both in life, and in death.

Impa

"And so the final Sheikah falls," Mai whispers to herself, admiring the Sheikah symbol emblazoned upon the ninja's name.

"Sheikah? You mean they're real?" Rift asks, always certain they were no different than the legends of ghosts and demons.

"Of course, they've defended the royals for generations," she informs as if it should be common knowledge. "Come on, the entrance should be up there somewhere," she points out, referring to the cliff overhead. Disregarding any manner of respect, Rift vaults off the large gravestone, achieving enough momentum to access the alcove above. A small cavern leads left, and after descending a gradual decline, the boy discovers a large, circular room ravaged by time. A small pedestal stands at the center, surrounded by dozens of unlit torches arranged around the platform. A massive glyph containing an array of strange symbols encompasses the floor, gradually fading as it stretches from the center of the room. Eyeing the massive, stone door on the opposite side of the cave, Rift decides he has figured out the puzzle.

"So, light the torches I'm guessing?" He shrugs, walking between the many metallic erections, each of them standing much taller than the boy himself.

"Haha, light the torches! That's a good one," Mai giggles, finding the prospect absurd. Reaching the central pedestal, Rift sees the small platform is covered in symbols, but there is no portal to be utilized. Glancing around curiously, he finally spots an out of place blotch on the pale, green ceiling that is a deep black. A deep breath is expelled, and without a word, the boy leaps up through the portal. Landing safely upon a small platform of earth, he waits for his eyes to adjust, but all he finds is an endless black. A chillingly cold wind pushes through the area, the cavern obviously very large, though he has no way of perceiving the specific scale. Somewhere far below, a horrible noise emanates from the seemingly endless fall awaiting anyone foolish enough to lose their footing. A continual grinding scream, swirling upward and dispersing through the open air of the massive cave. Without a clue as to what he should do, Rift flips his hood back with a sigh.

"What is this?" He asks, shaking his head and growing frustrated.

"The Dark Shadow Temple," Mai informs with an ominous tone.

"Dark shadow?" Rift quips with a sarcastic expression.

"Redundant, I know. This temple is based on the Sheikah arts of illusion and deception, but we have an ace up our sleeve," she reveals, appearing behind the boy and grabbing his right wrist. Pressing the back of his hand against his eye, the inverted Triforce glows brightly, turning his palm transparent and revealing a radically different setting. An entire spectrum of objects comes into view, glowing ever so slightly from the magical power of Mai's lens. From where he stands, a series of large steps descend toward the entrance of a segmented castle. Each of the many rooms floats in the air upon a hovering slab of earth, arrayed in the distance like a dark, cloud kingdom. Primarily silver in color, the structure is like no architecture he has ever seen, the roofs of the oddly fashioned buildings shaped like teardrops. Hopping down the massive individual steps, Rift reaches the base of the floating island, suspended by some unknown force. Across a gargantuan gap, he finds a suitable spot on the building for a portal. After dropping through, he stares at the building, shimmering dimly from the unnatural light it emanates. Quickly finding it difficult to maneuver with his hand pressed against his face, the boy lowers his arm for the moment. Much to his surprise, the structure remains visible even without the assistance of his hand. Permanently pulled into the visible spectrum, the building continues to glow faintly, serving to slightly illuminate his surroundings. Trotting up a short staircase, he pulls the large doors open, and enters the temple.

The initial room is massive, but aside from the small ledge just inside the doorway, it is void of any features or obstacles. The plain silver walls are segmented in long, rectangular bricks, encircling the entire room. At first glance, Rift assumed the structure to be circular, but now he can clearly see he is standing at the approximate halfway point of an octagonal cylinder, high above the floor, yet still a significant distance from the ceiling. With nowhere to go, he presses his knuckles against the bridge of his nose in order to shed some light on the illusion. The moment Mai's power reveals the true nature of the room, the boy immediately jerks his hand away from his eye. Unfortunately, the brief glimpse of a nightmare remains solely where he revealed it. At the center of the room is a column of earth and stone serving as a nexus point for the eight paths spreading in all directions from its hollow center. Wrapped around the intersection, barbed wire randomly spreads away, vanishing into the nothingness as Rift failed to reveal the remainder of the area. Saturated with blood, the wire drips the dark red liquid consistently, a steady stream tracing its way down the line from unknown sources. Backing toward the door, the boy's bravery is called into question, and rightfully so.

"What's wrong?" Mai asks, coldly ignoring the small portion of the room that has been exposed.

"Are you serious? Can't you see that?" Rift responds, pulling his hood over his head and reaching into his tunic to grasp his precious music box. In times of fear and doubt, the trinket has always seen him through to safety. He needs the nostalgic sense of security now more than ever.

"Hey," she starts, taking a warmer tone. "This temple is meant to scare away the faint of heart. Everything we'll find in here is a test of bravery and determination. I'm right here with you. Don't be afraid. We've come too far to turn back now," she explains, attempting to motivate him.

"I don't like this place," he asserts, shuddering briefly. "There's something here," he expresses, not quite able to put the sensation into words. "Something bad."

"Well it better hope it doesn't run into us, right?" She encourages, eager to continue.

"Right," he agrees, significantly less confident than she had hoped. Anxiously lifting his hand once again, Rift looks all around the room, painting a grotesque portrait with his eye. Eight paths are revealed, entangled in the spider webs of bloody wire stretched throughout the room. Tangled bits of flesh and entrails dangle from the tightly wound wires at random points. Though rusted and brown in sections, the coils of metal remain deadly sharp. Three of the routes emerging from the central point lead downward at an angle, while three more ascend up toward the ceiling. Each path meets a door against the outer walls of the disgusting room, and from where he is standing, the boy can clearly see the door directly in front of him is covered with chains. Finally working up the courage to look down, he sees a teeming mass of flesh, the humanoid forms writhing and pushing against each other in the grotesque pit below. With no doors or ladders leading out, the zombie-covered base of the room is an inescapable death-trap. The husks of muscle take notice of the visitor, attempting to converge on one side of the room, but ultimately moving very little. A rapidly repeating influx of air sounds from the pit, and suddenly, a chorus of horrifying screams blasts up from the swarm of ghouls. Continuously taking short, wet breaths, the ReDeads endlessly cry blood-curdling screams at the boy, quickly growing deafeningly distracting.

"We need to move! Rift!" Mai calls as he falls to his knees and covers his ears. Over and over again the terrifying shrieks echo throughout the large room. Clinging to his music box, the boy finally climbs to his feet and sprints across the narrow path to the center of the room. Uncaring as to which particular path he takes, he ascends a ramp to his left, hurdling over and crawling under the entangling wires littering the route. Reaching the door, he wastes no time tearing it open and dashing through. Outside once again, the structure floating in the distance is the only feasible destination, the ledge the boy stands upon leading nowhere but down. Another portal is utilized and in seconds he is pulling open the door and strolling into the building filled with worry. Expecting yet another elaborate puzzle, the boy is shocked to find a small room with a treasure chest at the center. Certain it must be some sort of trap, he sends Mai over to investigate. Materializing halfway to the chest, Mai glances around the small room before squatting next to the wooden box. After knocking on the top, she turns back to Rift and shrugs her shoulders, the simple act of obtaining the treasure seemingly legitimate. Crossing the room with caution just the same, the boy jumps back a step when a ghostly figure appears atop the treasure.

"Greetings, young man," the figure proclaims, sitting atop the chest with his back strait and arms crossed. Clearly some sort of scout during his life, the man wears a tightly fitting jumpsuit and a long bandana tied around his forehead. Upon his chest, the very symbol of the Sheikah Rift recalls seeing upon the blonde ninja, a red eye with a single tear falling. With a generally jolly demeanor, the man continues. "You have entered our sacred temple, and if you wish to possess the treasure we defend, you must pass a series of tests," he explains, holding up a single finger while making the point.

"What kind of test?" Rift asks, checking his footing and growing defensive.

"Calm yourself. They are tests of the mind," he smiles, his otherworldly voice carrying oddly well. "In each room you will hear a riddle. Solve the riddle and receive a key. Guess incorrectly and," he pauses, shrugging his shoulders and growing mildly serious. "Not so lucky." Taking a moment to consider what he is implying, the boy decides he has little choice in the matter.

"Alright then, let's hear it," he concedes, crossing his arms and concentrating.

"What can be kept only after it's been given?" The ghost offers, grinning at the confused face before him. His heart sinking instantly, Rift is blindsided by the simple riddle. Unable to work out any sort of meaningful answer, his thoughts are overrun with possibilities of what the ghost intends to do when he hears the wrong solution. Straining to focus on the question once again, he decides the answer must be some sort of clever play on words, as most riddles tend to be. Even so, the answer eludes him as he prepares to admit defeat to the smug spirit.

"Your word," Mai suddenly blurts out, having just worked out the answer herself. "You know, like a promise."

"Your w-word," Rift mumbles, the answer making too much sense to be wrong.

"Very good," the phantom nods, back-flipping off the chest and vanishing into thin air.

"How did you know that?" The boy asks, his breaths full of relief.

"Oh, you know," she starts, clearly pleased with herself. "I am a genius," she points out, emphasizing the second word as her ego grows even larger.

"Well I hope you can do it five more times," he sighs, kicking the chest open and retrieving the small, silver key from within. Returning to the central room, Rift's spine twitches when the shrieks and screams resume from below. Trying to focus his thoughts on fonder memories, he clutches his music box and races through the room as quickly as possible. Deciding to take one of the lower paths this time around, he breathes a sigh of relief once he is outside again. Another distant structure prompts him to attempt a portal, but the lack of a suitable wall on the uneven architecture leaves Mai unable to complete the request. Thinking for a moment, Rift presses his hand to his brow and reveals an intricate series of floating rock chunks creating a makeshift bridge encircling their destination. With an agitated sigh, the boy makes his way across the weaving and dipping path with a couple helpful hands from his companion, finally reaching an ideal spot to line up a shot. The portal sticks this time around, and once again, the door is opened to reveal a small room with a chest at the center.

"Hello," a stern woman greets, her ghostly figure resembling the one before. Standing tall in front of the wooden box, she stares down at Rift with an angry expression. "You've come to attempt my test," she states more than asks, waiting impatiently for a response.

"Yes, I would hear your riddle," the boy asserts with a little more confidence.

"Very well," she nods, her harsh demeanor not affecting the ritual of the temple. "What is so fragile, simply speaking its name will break it?" Again, Rift finds himself at a total loss for words. He has heard dozens of riddles before, but never has he gained an appreciation or understanding of them. Shaking his head to free his thoughts and focus, he hears a subtle giggle from his companion.

"Come on, this is an easy one," Mai points out, not wanting to give him the answer right away. Quickly feeling frustrated and stupid, the boy thinks of every fragile object he can imagine. He attempts to conceive what word could be spoken to break anything at all, but ends up where he started. Clueless. "It's silence," Mai reveals, waiting for the answer to mesh with his thoughts.

"Silence," he says aloud, prompting the female ninja to simply nod before crouching down and leaping up through the ceiling as she vanishes. Letting his frustrations slip away, Rift decides having Mai with him is more important than being smart enough to solve these dumb riddles as he snatches up his second key. She has done the thinking while he does the fighting since the beginning. He cannot produce a reason why the established method should change now. Able to simply teleport back to the central spire, Rift skips the mess of platforming blocks that led him to the riddle room, dropping right back where he started. Before he even touches the door knob leading back into the zombie-pit room, he already has his music box clutched tightly in his hand.

"Wait," Mai blurts out, appearing next to her chosen. "I need to ask something," she starts, moving closer as Rift steps away from the door.

"What is it?" He asks, subconsciously moving his precious toy out of view.

"It's that," she sighs, pointing at his arm, slightly hidden behind his back. "I need it," she reveals, quickly deciding to alter her wording. "I want you to let it go."

"W-what? Why?" Rift stammers in a growing panic, hopping back a step.

"Easy," Mai cautions, not wanting him to accidentally trip off the ledge into the endless darkness below. With both arms extended in a calming gesture, she ceases her advance for the time being. "Listen. I know how difficult things have been. Every time I think you won't be strong enough, or fast enough to go on, you amaze me," she smiles as the boy calms down and simply listens. "The thing is, any time you really get yourself into trouble, I've been able to help you. You know why?"

"Because you're strength's returning? After being locked up so long?" Rift responds, suddenly unsure about the source of Mai's power.

"Not exactly," she admits, looking to the ground with an expression that begs for sympathy. "The truth is, you're my strength. Everything I can do in this world is because of you. If you would just trust me, I could be even stronger."

"I do trust you," he half-whines, taking a step closer and turning a hand over. Simply eyeing his music box, Mai manages to question his beliefs without saying a word. "This is," he starts, lifting it into view. "This is the only thing I have from my mother. It's all I have to remember her by."

"I'm here for you now," she interjects a little more harshly than intended. "We've come so far, but if you can't rely on me to keep you safe, I don't know how much further we can go," she points out, stepping closer and taking his spare hand while they both stare at the tiny trinket. He has done everything she has asked of him, and now Rift feels that Mai is going too far. Still, clinging to a toy for all these years has done nothing to help him mature. His goddess's hair tumbles over his shoulder as she rests her head upon it. Her hand squeezes his tightly, and the warmer her grip feels on his palm, the colder the object of his obsession becomes. The memory of his mother's embrace suddenly eclipses his senses, and he releases Mai's hand, giving the metallic crank a full twist. Relying on the melody to remind him where his heart truly lies, he knows he cannot discard the box on the whim of his companion. Just as the music starts to play, the gorgeous goddess steps into his vision, grabbing the back of his neck with both hands and flipping his hood back in the process. Her eyes appear betrayed, as if Rift has just chosen another woman over her. Certain she is about to inflict some sort of violence upon him, her tense muscles relax as she stares into his eyes. Gradually, the anger leaves her visage, and a look the boy does not recognize creeps onto her face. It is not rage, or joy, or sorrow, but an immense urge pushing her into an imminent action. The impossibly soft skin of her arms brushing against his cheeks coupled with her fingers slowly spreading through his hair triggers an instinct Rift did not realize he even had. A single arm touches her hip, and it is the final push she needed to pull the boy into a passionate kiss.

The fear the temple had injected into her chosen's veins is decimated by explosions of bliss. In the heat of the moment, Rift drops his music box, still playing his favorite song, onto the dark ground as he wraps both arms around his goddess's form. After what seems like an eternity, the simple kiss ends as neither of the companions want to back away. Seeing stars, the boy is at a complete loss concerning what to do next, standing uncomfortably before the blushing woman. After a moment, both of them laugh simultaneously, though the awkwardness remains even afterward. Clearing his throat, Rift is the one to finally break away, motioning toward the door in an effort to point out the task at hand. Simply staring at him fondly, Mai clasps her hands behind her back, apparently humbled by the emotion a mere mortal has generated within her. With a deep breath, she subtly kicks the still-playing music box off the ledge, the twang of thin metal fading into the darkness below.

"You coming?" Rift asks with a smile, his hand already wrapped around the door knob as he turns to look back.

"Y-yeah," she mumbles, gracelessly jogging over and taking his hand. Leading the boy back through the horrible room, Mai keeps a firm grip of his hand as the screams consistently cause his muscles to seize up. The disturbing sound intended to paralyze prey with fear. Another door swings open, and another vast chasm is crossed with relative ease. Approaching the small chest of another identical room, Rift simply takes a seat on the ground when the Sheikah ghost appears. Larger than the preceding two, the ninja seems depressed, leaning forward whilst sitting upon the small chest. With one hand clasped in the other, he stares at the floor, making no attempt to greet the boy.

"Umm," the boy starts, suddenly uncomfortable. "D-did you have a riddle, too?"

"Feed me, and I will live," the phantom suddenly declares. "Give me water, and I will die."

"Fire," Mai declares without missing a beat. "Seriously, all these ghosts do is sit around and think up riddles? You'd think they'd have better ones."

"You are fire," Rift announces proudly. With nothing but a sigh in response, the ghost looks to his left, and fades away where he sits. Curiously glancing about the room, Rift marches over and claims yet another key. After teleporting back and taking Mai's hand, the boy smiles gleefully at his companion, overwhelmed with joy when he considers her feelings toward him. Turning back and matching his smile, she plants another brief kiss on his lips, letting her hand rest on his cheek for a moment before charging through the door. Practically skipping through the disgusting chamber of carnage, the duo have reached yet another room in no time. Much younger than the previous Sheikah, this particular man is much more energetic, balancing atop the treasure chest on a single palm while his other hand clasps his elbow to maintain balance.

"A fourth key is what you desire? Well first you'll have to answer to me!" He practically shouts, his excitement the polar opposite of the previous ninja.

"Let's see what you've got," Rift taunts, smirking at the ghost.

"I can pull a tear from your eye. So long as you live, I shall never die. I cannot be seen, and I leave not a trace. I can put a smile on your very face," the man rants with a chipper tone. Not bothering to even attempt to make sense of the gibberish, the boy waits for Mai to deliver the obvious answer. Moments pass, and he finds himself standing in silence. The spirited ninja switches arms, beginning to do one handed pushups as he waits for the solution.

"I-I uhh," Mai mumbles, finding herself unable to answer. "I don't know," she finally admits, feeling the same panic that is taking hold of her chosen. Grinning widely, the phantom continues his workout routine just the same, his duty requiring him to wait for an answer before taking any action. "I really don't know," she repeats, a sincere empathy in her tone. "Take a guess."

"Th-the wind?" Rift finally asks, extraordinarily unconfident with his assumption. Instantly becoming stoic, the ghost drops off the chest, taking a knee before the boy.

"I am sorry," he declares just before a sudden shockwave of energy blasts out of his form. The thick, stone floor they are standing upon is obliterated causing Rift to fall with the debris down onto a hidden floor of the structure. Quickly scrambling out of the rubble, the boy finds himself in a cage of barbed wire suspended below the floating island. The blood-stained net of cringe-inducing metal is arranged in a domelike shape, the floor only traversable because of the fallen stone. Above, the room he was previously standing in has been destroyed, any chance of escape via portal now impossible. As if his situation weren't bad enough, a deep groan sounds from beneath the debris, and a moment later, a disgustingly thin hand claws its way out of the rubble.

"Alright, Rift," Mai starts, appearing next to the boy to be certain she has his attention. "You can do this. These things are slow, but you've got to defeat it quickly. Don't give it time to attack you, just go over there and smash it, okay?" She rambles off as quickly as she is able. Nodding in agreement, Rift utilizes his new tunic to bolt across the cage and smash the zombie's hollow, wooden head the moment it appears from beneath the gravel. Without a second to celebrate, three more of the ghouls slowly emerge from the rubble, their movements slow and methodical. The occasional twitch or muscle spasm makes Rift's skin crawl, the bony apparitions of flesh turning their disturbing wooden heads toward the boy. Two empty holes set in their coffin-shaped craniums appear to be eyes, and below, a lipless, snarling mouth craving fresh flesh. Remembering Mai's words, Rift shakes off the fear, flashing toward the ReDeads and bashing their wooden skulls with a lunging punch followed by a spinning back fist.

The final creature has almost managed to climb from the wreckage completely, its foot caught between a pair of large rocks. Moving in for the kill, Rift freezes in his tracks when the zombie suddenly twists its head in his direction and shrieks like a thousand women being torn apart. Though he cannot understand why, the boy is certain he cannot move a muscle. The ghoul manages to pull its leg free, lumbering toward Rift as its movements continue in slow motion. A sudden twitch contorts its head, the random jolts and spasms only serving to heighten the boy's fear. Inhaling short breaths rapidly through its lipless mouth, the creature screams, the sound clawing at Rift's bones from the inside out. Gradually approaching, like an old woman searching for a lantern, the monster paws at the open air blindly. A fleshy hand weakly clasps onto the boy's gauntlet, the zombie slowly pulling itself toward the boy's vulnerable throat. The closer the ghoul drifts to his face, the more tightly the vice-like fear clamps down upon Rift's extremities, squeezing his muscles until he is still as a statue. Suddenly, Mai appears directly in front of him, her hands upon his cheeks as she attempts to snap the boy out of his trance.

"Hey, sweetheart," she starts, her voice absurdly calm considering the situation. "I just need you to do one thing right now. Forget about everything else. All you need to do is relax. Just calm down," she explains, dragging out the last two words as she presses her forehead to his. "Just look at me," she continues, breathing onto his lips. "And calm down." The thought of her lips against his is enough to distract Rift from the hungry ReDead, moments away from biting into his flesh. Without even realizing it, his muscles soften and he trips back to a knee, just as the creature's jaws snap at him. Rapidly returning to his senses, the boy almost freezes in place once again as the sickening sound of wet breaths through clenched teeth bears down upon him. With a primal war-cry, Rift leaps into an uppercut, punching through the beast's head as he spirals up into the air with unnecessary momentum. Landing back upon the uneven battleground, he simply stares in awe as the larger pieces of rubble begin to gravitate into a staircase leading up and out of the trap. The small treasure chest that was only an answer away is now revealed as the debris is lifted off of it. After opening the container and retrieving its key, they boy inspects more closely to discover there is a single word etched inside the lid of the box.

memories

Sighing and shaking his head, he kicks the now empty chest aside before ascending the hovering stairs. After portaling back to the central room, Rift regains his composure as Mai materializes to guide him through the area. Even with her hand in his, the thought of falling into a pit full of those creatures crawls into the boy's mind, and without warning, his leg goes stiff. The horrible cries and shrieks echo through the room between the rhythmic sucking sounds as the ghouls refill their lungs. Simply placing a hand on his cheek and locking onto his eyes is enough to get Rift back to his feet, the mental game of focus having taken its toll on the boy. Slamming the door shut behind them, the duo make their way to yet another floating island. Welcoming the lack of surprise, Rift strolls into another identical room, taking a moment to psych himself up before stepping forward and revealing the ghost. A cute, female ninja stands against the wall next to the door with a foot propped against it. Both of her hands cupping the back of her neck, she resonates a casual calm as she greets her visitor.

"What's up? I'm surprised you made it this far," she chuckles, remaining in her relaxed position.

"Piece of cake," Rift shrugs, failing to generate enough confidence to sound anything short of extremely sarcastic.

"Ready?" She asks, her eyes lighting up as she looks the boy up and down.

"Bring it on," Rift declares, his voice tired, but ready.

"I'm a box of keys with no locks, and a keeper of notes. It's with hands but not clocks, I make cords but not ropes," she says with a mischievous smile. Praying Mai has the answer this time around, the boy turns his back to the ghost, closes his eyes, and waits. Regardless of what trials may come, he desperately wants to avoid falling into another cage of those creatures. Even now he can hear the screams in his mind. Only the most unspeakable torture inflicted upon the most innocent people could generate such a sound. Unsure of how much time has passed since the riddle was spoken, he opens his eyes once again, only to hear an unwelcome sound.

"I don't know, Rift," she starts, felling awful when his shoulders slouch in defeat. "I'm sorry."

"Keys without locks," he repeats to himself after a moment, catching the interest of the ghost behind him. "Notes... Hands... Cords..." He ponders, realizing the pieces are coming together. "Not cords," he blurts out with a smile. "Chords! You're a piano!" He declares, pointing a finger at the reclining phantom.

"Took you long enough," she laughs, rolling her eyes. With that, she simply rises off the wall before strutting through the room as she vanishes. A snicker of delight escapes the boy's lips as he throws the chest open and takes the key. The screaming has become constant within his subconscious, the slurping sound between shrieks replacing his own ordinary breathing. His descent into madness occurs so slowly even he fails to realizes the path he is journeying upon.

"There's only one left," he laughs, not noticing how crazed the tone of his voice sounds. Immediately exiting the room and summoning a portal back across the vast chasm, he feels a strange sensation resonating from his right hand.

"Rift? What's wrong?" Mai breathes upon deaf ears, her concern steadily growing as she watches his uncharacteristic antics. His iris's shrinking to pin points, the boy gazes into his palm, the fluttering waves of blue spilling out as the void calls his mind in. The horrible noises haunting his every thought fade away, seemingly pulled into the vortex overtaking his vision. Phasing into existence behind the boy, Mai gently wraps her arms around him, not forcing his hand away from his face, but gently urging Rift to cease staring at it. As his arm gradually falls out of view, the boy nearly passes out from the devastating mental effect this temple is wrecking upon him. After a time in her arms, he returns to normal, confused as to what caused his sudden episode to begin with. The grinding groan emanating from the darkness below refills his ears as if he is hearing it for the first time. After the reboot of his senses is complete, he decides he can continue. Parting from her one-sided embrace, Mai traces a finger down to Rift's hand, clasping it tightly as she waits for the boy signal for the door to be opened. The trip through the room of barbed wire and blood is difficult, Rift's limbs consistently freezing as Mai struggles to pull him forward. His mental defenses have faltered, some vital piece of his thought process lost to the void in exchange for his continual sanity. Back outside he gathers his composure before setting his sights on the floating room in the distance. Finally, the last chasm is crossed, and the last door leading into a small room is opened.

"The final key awaits," a deep, manly voice calls as the spirit appears. Sitting with his legs crossed in his lap, the ninja's back reclines against the small chest, his position suggesting meditation.

"I'm ready," the boy breathes, unsure if he is currently sane enough to comprehend the word puzzle.

"Very well. The more of me you have, the less you can see," he proclaims, closing his eyes and returning to his meditative state. Shocked at first, the boy finds himself expecting another verse, but the specter offers none. Mentally exhausted, Rift can scarcely summon the willpower to consider an answer. When his goddess fails to respond right away, his heart is filled with dread.

"The less you can see," Mai mumbles aloud, deep in thought. "I've got it!" She finally declares after a time. "It's a tricky one. Not the less you can see of it, the less you can see period. Darkness."

"You are darkness," the boy declares with a tired confidence.

"Be warned," the ghost unexpectedly announces, leaning forward and resting a forearm on his knee. "The treasure you seek is guarded by a fierce evil. Should you fail to best it, you will join the others below," he concludes, returning to his meditative posture as he fades away.

"Others?" Rift asks, stepping forward. "What others? Hey!"

"Another trick," Mai assures, appearing next to the boy and staring at the spot where the specter vanished. "It's a last ditch effort to keep you from the treasure. Forget about him. Let's go get that armor!" Simply shaking his head, Rift claims his key and exits the room. He is far too fatigued to consider the phantom's words, and besides, Mai is probably right. The trek over the walkways spanning above the pit of flesh and screams is uneventful, and finally the boy has reached the final door. Large chains staked into the stone walls bar entry, each of the strands held together by a simple, but large lock clasped at the center. One by one, Rift plunges the keys into the metallic mechanisms, the locks falling open and swinging aside until the door stands free with a half dozen separated chains dangling on either side. Pulling the heavy door open reveals a mighty spire, the continual staircase rounding the walls, but broken in several sections. Shortly after commencing the climb, the boy requires Mai's helping hand to cross gaps where the stone steps have collapsed. Sprinting a couple steps up the wall, his goddess swings him forward as he runs, generating enough momentum to reach the higher sections of stairs. Finally reaching the top of the dim tower, Rift stops in his tracks when his companion suddenly calls out to him.

"Hey!" She blurts out, assimilating before him. "I've got a bad feeling about this," she warns, holding up a halting hand while she ventures into the room. Only three steps onto the platform leading through the open archway to the next room, the floor cracks apart and Mai falls through. Several long seconds pass before the pieces of stone can be heard smashing to the ground far below.

"Good call," Rift has to admit, managing not to panic when he sees her in danger this time around. Without hesitation, he leaps into the air, taking Mai's hand and swinging the short distance into the next area. The massive dome is stained with dried blood and gore, the room's shimmering floor illuminated just enough to see a short distance ahead. Proceeding carefully, Rift twists and ducks his way through a tangled mesh of barbed wire, forming a very loosely knit netting around the perimeter of the room. The center of the chamber holds exactly what the duo were hoping for, a large treasure chest standing alone. Wasting no time, the boy dashes over and throws the lid back, finding intimidating plate mail inside. A joyful smile steals over his face as he pulls the armor out of the box, the cuirass revealed to be a mixture of midnight blue, and the same ghostly hue of his tunic. After strapping the armor on, he touches the symbols emblazoned upon the chest in a dark gold just beneath his clavicle. On one side, a single triangle is obviously meant to symbolize Mai's prison within the Triforce. It is the other symbol that causes confusion. A crescent moon is proudly displayed on the opposite side, the meaning of which is lost on him.

"You look badass," Mai cheers flirtatiously, appearing briefly and making minor adjustments.

"Thanks," Rift smiles, getting a feel for the weight of the cuirass. "I'm sure I'll feel badass once we're out of this place." Expecting the entire tower to begin collapsing, the boy is pleasantly surprised as he turns to make his exit. Nothing changes, and it seems the Sheikah ghost was simply trying to scare him. Suddenly, a slow and steady scraping noise sounds from behind, like a sewer grate being drug atop a sidewalk. Gradually coming into view, a horrendous monster dragging an object behind it slows to a stop near the center of the platform. Wrapped in disgusting cloth from head to toe, it resembles the ReDeads aside from its significantly larger size. Dragging sporadic lengths of unraveled cloth in its wake, the ghoul lifts its absurdly large cleaver into the air before smashing the open treasure chest to nothing but splinters. The force from the impact causes the perimeter of the floor the break apart, dropping the circular base of the room a brief distance, and leaving the platform dangling by the plethora of barbed wire stabbing through at the edges. Turning back toward the spire he climbed to reach the room, Rift's heart sinks as it cracks loudly, tipping slowly away before breaking off and falling into the endless abyss of darkness below. The scraping sound resumes, and it becomes clear he'll have to fight.

Quickly circling away from the monstrosity, the boy considers how he should attack, carefully sticking to the edges of the platform. The consistent scraping continues, like a sword against a grindstone until the monster reaches the spot where he first saw Rift. With a great deal of effort, it twists its body around before a mighty swing hacks through several strands of wire, causing the platform to tip slightly. An immediate about face later, the sword-wielding mummy begins to march across to the other side.

"He's going to kill us all if he keeps that up!" Mai points out, sensing the boy's anxiousness to engage. "You've got to take him out before he chops the rest of those wires!" Heeding her advice, Rift dashes forward, moving infinitely more quickly than the zombie. Aiming to deal as much damage as possible before his foe can turn around, the boy throws a quick one-two punch, finishing the short combo with a powerful leg-kick. The force from the blow buckles the ghoul's leg briefly, but as it reels from the damage done, a familiar and terrible scream bursts from its throat.

"No," Rift mouths, frozen in place once again. The mummy's erratic, twitching movements fill the boy's vision as it slowly turns to face its prey. Once again, Mai appears to calmly console her chosen as the monster winds up a powerful swing. Unable to focus on her pretty face, Rift's thoughts betray him, constantly reminding he is about to be cleaved in two. Though his muscles begin to relax upon the goddess's touch, it is far too late as the rusty blade swings through Mai, and collides with the boy's torso. A brief, agonizing cry of pain escapes Rift's lungs before he skips along the ground and collides with the angled barbed wire net, bouncing a short distance into the air before landing flat on his stomach. The vibrating wire behind him slowly returns to its stationary position, the irritating sound fading away as the boy climbs off the ground. Struggling to return to his senses, he hears the grinding noise approaching from every direction as he fails to determine his bearings. Vainly attempting to stumble away from the approaching enemy, another shriek firmly grips his spine, pulling all of his muscles so tightly he feels they will burst at any moment. Finally his senses sharpen and the ghoul has nearly reached striking range, dragging its blade and closing on the left. Fed up with the unfair tactic, Mai appears in front of Rift with a radically different plan.

"Snap!" She shouts, firmly slapping the boy across the face. "Out of it!" She concludes, following with an equally powerful backhand. Shocked by her sudden violence, Rift grabs his cheek and prepares to protest when he realizes the sword is already arcing toward him. Dashing away in the blink of an eye saves him from the assault, but the overzealous attack manages to destroy another large collection of wires, wobbling the platform violently. His time wearing thin, the boy dashes in for another attack, combining a cross and a hook before finishing with a heavy roundhouse kick to the ribs. Knowing the counter is coming, he immediately dashes away as the scream bursts into the air, but it fails to have the desired effect this time around. Though his limbs temporarily tighten, Rift is not in close enough proximity to suffer complete paralysis. The monster turns and lumbers in his direction, but the boy dashes around behind him with ease. An uppercut to the spine followed by three relentless leg kicks is enough to cause the mummy's knee to buckle as it topples to the ground. Sick and tired of this terrible place, Rift pounces upon his fallen foe, straddling its heaving chest and pummeling its head with vicious right hands. Certain the zombie is at death's door, the boy cannot believe his ears when another scream freezes his knuckles just before they collide for the fifth time.

"Look out!" Mai screams, but to no avail as the grounded ghoul twirls its sword across its chest, throwing Rift across the battleground like a ragdoll. Hitting the wire suspending the platform with a visceral force, the boy flies completely through, snapping the metallic strands apart and colliding with the outer wall with a painful crunch. The entire platform gives way, the wires suspending it finally succumbing to the structural damage inflicted upon them as it swings downward like a trap door. Tumbling down toward certain death, Rift is kicked over into a preferable trajectory by Mai, narrowly missing a particularly nasty series of bloody wires. His leg skips off the top of another strand before he lands harshly, but non-lethally upon the intersection below. Pulling himself off the ground with a whimper, Rift spots the monster hanging from the dangling platform above. Its sword speared into the slab of stone, it futilely attempts to climb to safety until the last of the wires suspending the slab of rock give way with a rapid series of snaps. Flailing through the air, the monster descends into the pit unwillingly, and just before it meets the spider web of barbed wire, the boy turns away and shields his eyes. The deafening boom of the platform destroying half the wires, as well as the walkways below it, drowns out all other sound until it finally settles into the pit of monsters. Exhaling a sigh of relief, Rift climbs to his feet and turns to leave when the worst noise he has ever heard gradually begins to increase in volume.

"W-what," he starts, mashing his eyes shut as the haunting ambience becomes overwhelming. "What is that!?" He manages to choke out covering his ears with his hands. Fingernails scraping across chalkboards, screaming children, and satanic bellows seem to rise up into the room as the pit below is slowly consumed by shadow. The crawling black seems to have a mind of its own, climbing up the pillar at the room's center as the sound of dying animals and hissing skeletons becomes louder than the boy thought possible.

"Go! Now!" Mai demands, appearing just long enough to scoop the boy off the ground and shove him toward the door. Sprinting forward, he throws the door open to find the sound is outside as well, though not nearly as loud. Struggling to line up a portal, he finally manages to find a suitable spot, landing on the other side of the vast gap, and temporarily escaping the coming darkness. Racing up the tall stairs, he is home free until he reaches the peak, finding a final ghost waiting for him. Standing proudly with her arms crossed, the woman's most striking feature is her massive ponytail of white hair waving lazily in a nonexistent breeze. Her garb is similar to the ninja inside the temple, the Sheikah symbol displayed upon her chest, but her particular outfit seems to signify a higher status of the clan. Unsure of the spirit's intentions, Rift knows he hasn't a moment to lose, the darkness already beginning to climb the steps toward the exit.

"You've no reason to trust me," the spirit declares, speaking quickly to get her point across. "But I've no reason to lie to you. I've been watching you closely, and I know you do not travel alone. I know much of the void, and you must come to know one truth should you decide to continue along this path," she pauses, emphasizing her final thought well. "The void is death. There is no good. There is no light. There is no hope. There is only death." With that she whips an ethereal flash-bomb at the boy's feet, and vanishes without a trace. Needing no encouragement from his goddess, Rift dashes to the center of the summit, leaping up through the pale, green blight upon the ceiling of the cave before the churning mass of noise and darkness can consume him. Landing upon the central pedestal amongst the sea of unlit torches, the boy expels a well-earned sigh of relief. Taking his time, he waits for his breathing to return to normal before he starts for the dim moonlight shining in from the outside.

"We made it," Mai exclaims, appearing on her chosen's back and hugging him spiritedly.

"I wasn't so sure we'd come back from that one," he admits, poking at her bare foot nervously above her intertwined ankles.

"I was," she grins, kissing him enthusiastically on the cheek. Almost forgetting about the temple they just traversed, Rift feels a familiar glee swell in his stomach as Mai continues to serenade him with affection as they make their way out of the cove. "Something's not right," she breathes, suddenly uneasy.

"Not funny," Rift retorts with a casual breath.

"I'm serious," she fires back, following with a shush. Turning back to face the dark room, the boy feels certain he just saw a shadow move out of the corner of his eye. Hopping off of his back, Mai vanishes, determined to decipher the source of her uneasy feeling. Without warning, an explosion of flame ignites all of the torches simultaneously, illuminating the entire cave with orange light. The burst of energy subsides, and standing at the center is a blonde Sheikah. Unlike the seven he just met, this one is very much alive.

## Bid for Power:

### My Time Will Come for Glory

Another brief hiss escapes through Ganondorf's clenched teeth as Aveil dresses his wound. Back in the safety of his fortress, the Gerudo king has been far from compassionate since his return. Still under Din's influence, he finds himself unable to even converse without growing enraged, every utterance of his subjects irritating him beyond reason. Sitting shirtless on the edge of his large bed, he cares little for his queen's affections as he stares through the open doors of the balcony. The sun is setting, and he will not waste another moment licking his wounds so long as sages yet live. Rising from the bed without a word of gratitude, he starts for the throne room.

"Will you not indulge me with your company this night, my king?" Aveil asks, her sour tone conveying she already knows the answer.

"I've more pressing matters to attend to," he grumbles, marching into the throne room without looking back. Having long since grown tired of his mistress's faces, the king of thieves only has eyes for one woman now. His goddess provides everything he will ever need, and soon he will rule over all with her at his side. Throwing open the large doors leading outside allows the harsh wind to rush in, the meek cries of protest from the scores of women only serving to agitate their king. Instantly stepping into pace, a pair of guards follow Ganondorf down the endless flights of stairs, finally reaching the prison block. The rusty metal cells suffer from thorough disrepair, but serve their purpose just the same. Lying against the wall in the corner of his cage, Linu squints at the sudden source of light as the trio enters the room. His swollen cheek requires his left eye to remain narrow, the look on his face not one of fear, but fatigue and dread. "Move him," the Gerudo king demands, turning to leave while the guards throw the cell door open and seize the boy.

A bleak basement beneath the Gerudo bath houses serves as the interrogation room, constantly moist as the water seeps down through the stones and drips from the ceiling. The dry sand welcomes the warm water, sucking the liquid down the moment it touches the ground, but the mid-sized room still seems grimy and uncomfortable. Vainly struggling against the guards, the young scout is strapped between a pair of heavy wooden columns at the room's center. Leather restraints are fastened to his wrists as each arm is lifted outward, leaving him in a defenseless position. A brutal knee to the gut finalizes the process, a weak grunt of pain falling from Linu's lips as the guards leave him. Dangling between the restraints, he hangs just high enough to prevent resting on his knees, too exhausted to find the strength to stand. Simply waiting and watching, Ganondorf determines the best means of extracting information from the scout. After a moment, he walks into the low amount of torchlight carrying the boy's Sheikah cloak with an amused smile.

"Do you wear this in jest, or have the Sheikah really lowered their standards so?" He taunts, dangling the cloth in front of Linu's face before tossing it to the ground with distain. "I have but one question," the Gerudo starts, crouching in front of his prisoner to look into his eyes. "Where is the sage of light hiding?" Working his tongue around to clear his throat, the scout's parched lips offer no words as he summons what little saliva he can into his mouth. Instantly realizing he intends to spit in his face, the king of thieves fails to control his rage. Immediately seizing hold of him, Ganondorf's large hand nearly encompasses his entire face, squeezing like a vice as he struggles to exert control over his violence, and let the boy live long enough to divulge information. Finally releasing him, the Gerudo marches away, leaning against the wall near the stairs as he gestures to someone behind the prisoner. A brief whirring sound occurs several times rhythmically and Linu instantly knows what is about to happen. The whip cracks against his back like a blade, cutting deeply into his flesh as he groans in pain. Looking to his captor with angry eyes, his heart sinks when the Gerudo nods, issuing the command to hit him again. The second strike is more painful than the first, the woman behind him taking her time as she twirls the whip about her head, making sure her prey knows the strike is coming. Still reclining against the wall, Ganondorf makes no attempt to approach the scout, eyeing him thoughtfully as he endures the lasting pain.

"Well?" The king of thieves asks, his gruff voice sounding far from sympathetic. Hanging in silence, the captured ninja cannot decide what to say. Though he has no idea where the sage of light might be, his captor's ignorance to the fact is the only thing keeping him alive. A grumble of irritation from the Gerudo king causes his muscles to tighten, and right on cue, the whip begins to whir around and around. Three strikes bite into his back this time, and his endurance is gone as he whimpers helplessly at the hands of the savage woman. "You decide when this ends," Ganondorf informs, utterly apathetic toward the boy. "Perhaps you need a moment to consider your position," he shrugs, rising off the wall and exiting the room. Without warning, the whip cracks at the open air, causing Linu to flinch as he mashes his eyes shut. With a sadistic snicker, the masked woman struts out of the shadows, coiling her instrument in her hand as she exits. Now alone in the room, the boy ceases fighting the tears as he listens to the water drip down through the ceiling, tapping on the sandy ground intermittently.

Ordering the guards to stay put with a silent gesture, the king of thieves quickly moves across the sandy grounds of the complex, entering an inconspicuous doorway. Inside the small room, he shoves a bookcase aside with little effort revealing a secret passage leading down. Making his way through the darkness, he stealthily arrives at his destination, peering through a thin drainage grate of the torture room. Still hanging pathetically, Linu waits in agony for whatever terrible fate he is to meet. No stranger to stealthy tactics himself, Ganondorf focuses on silencing his breathing as he watches the dim room with great interest. The sun has all but vanished beneath the horizon when the extraordinarily patient ninja finally makes her move. Seeming to crawl out of the shadows themselves, Sanzu dips into her comrade's vision, pressing a finger to his lips before studying the restrains.

"I wasn't sure if you'd find me," Linu admits, weakly coughing as Sanzu hushes him once again.

"Careless boy," she whispers, drawing a knife from the small of her back and slicing through the leather soundlessly. "Of course I would," After catching the depleted soul, she examines his back, cringing at the sight of the dried lacerations. "You're okay now. I'm taking you home," she assures, briefly glancing around before slowly situating the boy onto her back.

"He's looking for the sages," Linu sighs, grunting painfully as Sanzu lifts him into the air. "Zelda was right."

"Keep quiet," she promptly retorts, pulling on his arms to situate him comfortably on her back. "Save your strength. She'll look after the sage. You need only worry about how badly she'll scold you when we get back to the castle," she jokes with a sad smile, vainly attempting to lift his spirits. Satisfied with what he has learned, Ganondorf silently makes his way out of the hidden passageway, emerging into the twilight hour upon the sands. Noting his guard's passive state, he is certain the skillful Sheikah would sneak past them with ease were he not there to alert them.

"Fools!" He bellows, snapping the women to attention. "While you twirl your hair about your fingers the prisoner is being freed!" He informs, keeping his voice down as best he can. "You," he commands, pointing at the woman holding the whip. "Send for additional guards. You two," he scolds, pointing at the naginata touting duo. "If they get past you, you'll both answer to me," he declares, pointing through the doorway leading to the dark staircase. "Do not so much as blink." With that, he begins to ascend into his fortress, finally reaching the throne room with a sinister smile. Zelda protects the sage of light. The castle would be too obvious a hiding place, but the church is too ideal to be overlooked. Bursting into his chambers, he immediately begins to strap on his armor, not noticing the pair of women seated on his bed. Pulling on his gauntlets, he finally takes notice of Aveil consoling one of his mistresses, though the fact ranks at the bottom of his list of concerns. Rising from the bed, his queen approaches him carefully, obviously attempting to avoid angering him.

"My king, I have joyous news," she starts, the knowing tone of her voice clearly indicating it is a rehearsed line. "Young Maya has been with child for many months. The way it kicks and bounces around, she is certain it is a boy," she reveals, controlling her demeanor in a very calculating fashion. Imperceptible to most, the king recognizes the repressed twitches of a woman scorned. "You are to reign over all soon. Would you name the child you heir?" She continues, trying desperately to sell him on the notion. "To grow in—"

"Get rid of him," Ganondorf interrupts, his voice void of emotion. "If she voices protest, dispose of her as well," he instructs as the donning of his armor is complete. Leaning into Aveil's face, his eyes are of a stranger. Some compassionless beast she has never known. "I am the king. No one else," he concludes with a slow and deliberate tone. Coldly shoving her aside, he marches through the throne room with a devilish smirk. All thoughts of heirs and relationships are nowhere to be found, his feral mind focusing in on one essential goal. Just outside of the throne room, he is surprised to find Less awaiting him. Resting on a knee, she makes no attempt to speak out of turn, simply hoping he is not too preoccupied to acknowledge her. A brief nod to his guard captain waiting beside the throne room entrance assures her that their previously agreed upon strategy will proceed as planned. Dashing toward the stairs leading down into the barracks, the Gerudo woman vanishes from sight as the king returns his vision to the lone blonde crouched before him. Still having use for such a skilled warrior, he marches over to Less with a stern expression.

"Arise," he growls, staring daggers at the woman. Promptly springing to her feet, Less stares back at him with equal intensity, obviously harboring words she desperately wants to convey. "You've come to beg for mercy I assume?"

"Please forgive my failure," she starts, her eyes never straying from his for a moment.

"I will forgive nothing!" He roars down at her, barely retaining his composure. "The castle stands defenseless, and yet you failed to take it with an army at your heels!"

"Not defenseless, my king," she corrects, carefully monitoring her tone as always. "The newly named queen destroyed the bulk of the assault single-handedly. Her holy magic stripped me of our treasured artifact. I was not prepared for such resistance, and I failed you. I accept my punishment as you see fit," she concludes, only now breaking eye contact to bow her head slightly.

"Moora was far more reliable," he sighs, aiming to wound the woman who is far too proud for his taste. When she fails to answer, he knows he has succeeded. "Was this newly named queen with opportunity to kill you?" He asks after a moment, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"She was, and strangely, she hesitated... I do not know why," she conveys, the first hints of mental weakness displayed with the confession, her pride now wounded beyond repair. As her king processes the expected information, Less decides to carefully plead her case. "My sister," she breathes, determined to restrain the emotion from her voice. "She knew the cost of failure, as do I," she starts as her emotions seep into her words.

"Pathetic," he chuckles offensively, shaking his head. "To continue believing such nonsense," he pauses, unable to find the words to communicate his distain. Her eyes find his once again, and for an instant, Ganondorf sees her mother's face. Burning with hatred and potential violence, she resisted him with a memorable animosity. Though he was never certain why he kept her, locked away in secret all those years ago, he remembers an inexplicable attraction he could never shake. He has taught the rest of his kind to hate outsiders, and yet, the strongest of his soldiers is the result of a hopeless affair with a Hylian. It is the only reason he tolerates such blatant acts of disrespect from the defiant blonde standing before him. Despite the lies she was taught to believe, she is his daughter, and he feels oddly compelled to tolerate her. "You will wait for me at the Arbiter's Grounds. If any but I approach, kill them," he orders, staring into her eyes a moment longer before departing. Still as a statue, Less simply stares into space long after he has gone. Her emotionless visage would seem as though the hurtful words failed to affect her, but a single tear rolls down her cheek despite her best efforts.

Charging across Hyrule field on his armored horse, the dark lord notices the large ring of earth in front of the Castle Town gates, completely void of grass from a previous battle. The tall walls suffered significant damage, but even so, the siege failed. Dismounting his horse, Ganondorf approaches the edge of the moat, staring at the makeshift boards barring entry in place of the destroyed drawbridge. The base of the river, almost completely dry a short time ago, has regained a healthy flow due to the recent rain. With a slight chuckle, he channels his power into his hand, letting the golden glow of the Triforce ripple along the stone walls as the dark orb of energy grows around his clenched fist. Leaping into the air, he summons a glyph at his feet, launching him across the moat, and into the barrier. Using far more power than necessary, the wood is annihilated by the punch, the splintered pieces spearing into the recently renovated buildings near the entrance. The two guards positioned on each side of the entrance climb back to their feet, thoroughly rattled by the sudden attack. A purple ball of energy blasts off the warlock's palm, hitting the wall directly behind one of the guards and burying him in an avalanche of flying stone. The remaining guard charges courageously, thrusting his spear at the Gerudo's back. Batting the weapon aside effortlessly, Ganondorf, steps into an open palmed strike, only touching the guards chest for the briefest instant. Paralyzed with electricity, the guard spasms uncontrollably, crumbling to the ground without a fight. Not finished with the sentinel just yet, the Gerudo conjures a glyph beneath the unconscious warrior, launching him high above the town with a flick of his wrist. Resuming his march toward the church, he hears the guard land in the moat behind him with a loud splash.

Expecting Nayru's chosen to intercept him, the king of thieves is pleasantly surprised when he arrives at the large church doors without incident. The single guard draws his sword, waiting for the warlock to make the first move, but he soon discovers fleeing would have been the best course of action. The tall double-doors are ripped from their hinges, and the guard skips to a violent stop near the altar. The distant howl of a Wolfos signals nightfall as Ganondorf passes between the pews at a casual pace. The exceptionally old priest hobbles into view, palming nearby objects for balance as he seeks to ascertain the meaning of the commotion. The pig-like visage crawls onto the Gerudo's face the moment he lays eyes on the holy geezer, his sharpening teeth digging into his gums as he grins crazily. Taking a moment to clear his throat, the priest welcomes his visitor.

"This is a holy place," he starts, his voice meek and brittle. "The likes of you are not welcome here. What are you after? Money? You won't find any here," he rants, sounding convincingly like a senile old coot.

"You cannot deceive me, sage," Din bellows through her chosen's lips. "If your vessel's death is what you wish, then you shall have it."

"What in the name of Hylia are you," he starts, cut off by an orb of energy rocketing toward his chest. Deflected by a barrier of light, the purple ball ricochets into the air, blasting a sizeable hole in the rear wall of the church, bringing down a large portion of the ceiling as well. A gradual sigh tumbles from the old man's lips as he sees his disguise has worn out its use. With only one chance to gain the upper hand, he bides his time, eyeing the Gerudo king carefully. Resuming his march toward the altar, Ganondorf stares into the priest's soul with primal eyes, yet to decide precisely how he will kill him. Revealed by the church's newest renovation, the sky suddenly flashes rapidly, sporadic bolts of lightning dancing through the open air and catching the Gerudo's attention. Realizing his opportunity, the old man grunts briefly, slapping his wrists together with his palms facing the warlock. A blinding light engulfs the church, shining for all of Hyrule to see as the building lights up like a beacon. Barely able to lift a defensive hand in time, the king of thieves summons a dark barrier, scarcely managing to weather the holy torrent erupting from the priest's palms. The continual wave of destructive light is parted at the center, the Gerudo focusing his power into a concentrated point, thrusting the defensive spear of darkness slowly forward. The rows of wooden benches are annihilated in the purifying blast as the power struggle continues between the two wizards. Dialing his power up beyond his capacity, the old man begins to push the dark lord back, roaring even louder as he attempts to finish him off. Licking her lips in anticipation, Din squeezes her chosen's form against hers within her protective orb of flame. The sudden injection of immeasurable power leaps through Ganondorf's body like electricity, exploding out of his palm and reaming his dark spear completely through the waning priest. The altar as well as the thick stone wall behind the holy man is decimated as his eyes reveal his defeat.

The radiating light fades as the old man collapses to his knees. With a wide-eyed expression of shock and pain, he finally collapses to the ground. Standing where he once stood, the sage of light faces the incarnation of evil without fear. Having won the fight, the king of thieves cannot understand why his body still quakes painfully. A dark pit of boiling hellfire eats at him from the inside out, the overwhelming power screaming through his veins as he fails to exert control over Din's gift. A primal roar to dwarf all others erupts from his throat as an atomic blast of pure, evil force levels the entire section of town. The church evaporates in the blink of an eye, the nearby houses annihilated within the brief hurricane of fire and darkness. Staring blankly at the subsiding devastation, he is at a total loss as to what just occurred. His thirst for destruction has never before been quenched, but the degree of power he just wielded is beyond his wildest imagination. The power to destroy everything at his fingertips. Every creature, every structure, all of civilization now exists on his whims. An endless rain of wreckage tumbles down all around him, the moon shining down upon the newly formed crater with a silvery hue. Trapped in a permanent trance of absurd contemplation, Ganondorf is freed from the clutches of his sanity when he hears a medallion bounce off the ground nearby. Stumbling over to the source of the noise in a drunken state, he scoops the shimmering, yellow coin out of the dirt. Slithering back into his mind like a viper, Din pushes him to continue, loosening the shackles of his humanity in pursuit of far grander goals. Suddenly unable to focus on any other thought, the dark lord grips the golden trinket tightly as he marches back into the town. Only one sage remains.

## Guiding Light:

### The Ignorance and the Bliss

Attempting no strategic movements back into the shadow, Sheik feels she is portraying her desire for dialogue well. The boy approaches exceptionally cautiously, and rightfully so, her motives a mystery to him. As he reaches an optimal speaking range, the ninja retains the poise of a friend while remaining ready to fight at a moment's notice. Expecting to be the one to initiate the conversation, she is surprised when the boy speaks first.

"Who are you?" He asks with a respectable amount of base in his voice.

"I should ask you the same," Sheik quickly retorts, eyeing the boy's peculiar armor. "You hide your face like someone with everything to lose."

"Yeah?" He chuckles with a cavalier tone. "You're one to talk."

"I've lost enough. Perhaps you'd like to explain what motives drive a boy to travel to every corner of the kingdom. You've visited every sacred temple you've come across, and you've sought discord with the one man who would save us all from the coming evil."

"He attacked me first!" Rift interrupts, his veil of maturity crumbling with the agitated response.

"Unlikely," she breathes, shaking her head. His patience all but gone already, the boy subconsciously begins to flex his knuckles, unintentionally promoting his thoughts of violence. "I'll not stand idly by while someone conspires against the well-being of the realm," she starts, beginning to grow defensive. "I'll ask again. What are your motives?"

"My motives are my own," he replies with an angry grimace beneath his cowl.

"I've no desire to harm you. Please don't make this," she starts, desperate to appeal to him.

"I don't have time for this," the boy declares, turning his back on her and ascending out of the cave. Her diplomatic approach failing, Sheik produces a single needle, twirling it between her fingers as she considers her options. If he will not listen to reason, there can be only one contingency. He is clearly up to something, and his recurring strife with Link is not something so easily forgiven. With an effortless grace, she whips the spike in his direction, aiming for his back in a simple attempt to get his attention. Suddenly, Mai phases into existence directly behind Rift, batting the projectile aside and glaring at the ninja with hatred.

"What?" Sheik mouths, recognizing the essence of a goddess when she sees it. Neither Din, nor Farore, the black-haired beauty vanishes an instant later. Turning to face the ninja once again, Rift is far from pleased by this turn of events. He has attempted to simply walk away, but if it is a fight she wants, he will certainly oblige. Marching directly at the ninja, his plan of attack is a mystery until he shifts far to the left in the blink of an eye, kicking one of the torches out of the ground an instant later. The tumbling metal erection misses by a large margin, Sheik's reflexes far beyond anything the boy has encountered before. With the conversation at an apparent end, the ninja leaps into the air, disappearing into the shadows as she reaches the high ceiling. Utilizing her spikes to stab at the rock above, she agilely moves across the roof of the cavern, landing at the room's perimeter, and stalking her prey from the darkness. Quickly dashing to the center of the torches, Rift carefully scans his surroundings, waiting for the assassin to make her move. Several tense seconds pass, the only sound within the alcove being the steady crackle of the torches. Without warning, a loud noise echoes throughout the cave, the sound of metal striking metal. Rapidly searching for the source, the boy realizes the Sheikah intends to extend her veil of shadow by extinguishing the flames all around him. A rainstorm of needles hit the dozens of torches from every angle, the force from the impact displacing the coals just enough to snuff out the fire. His options quickly dwindling, Rift must fight off the urge to panic as the available light shrinks smaller and smaller.

With only a few torches remaining, Sheik dances around the outer edges of the cave, looking for ideal angles to blot out the last of the light. Underestimating his resourcefulness, she stares in awe as the boy begins to tear the torches out of the ground, launching them toward the entrance like flaming javelins. By the time the ninja deduces his goals, it is too late. Rift creates an illuminated path leading out of the cave, blinking between the sporadically placed light sources in short bursts. Quickly giving chase, Sheik extinguishes the torches left in the boy's wake with rapid efficiency, his bridge of security collapsing behind him as she moves up the ramp and out of the cavern in hot pursuit. The graveyard is illuminated particularly well, the moon offering plenty of silvery light as it reflects upon the thin fog hugging the ground. The night has grown cold, the recent rainfall causing a dramatic shift in temperature as well as causing the wind from Lake Hylia to amplify greatly. Leaping off of the small cliff overlooking the gravestones, Rift steps off of Impa's gravestone, dashing through the rows of monuments in a mad dash to exit the area. He couldn't possibly know what the Sheikah wants from him, but he has no intention of finding out. Catching up to him in no time, Sheik leaps overhead, throwing an array of spikes into the ground and cutting off his escape route. With nowhere to run, he finally turns to engage her.

A vicious flurry of punches and kicks slice through the mist, Sheik's agility like nothing the boy has ever seen as she evades his strikes with precognitive efficiency. Rapidly backing her against the large gravestone at the entrance, he sees his opportunity to capitalize, spinning into a devastating kick. The moment his foot collides with the stone, he knows he is in trouble, his appendage blasting a foot-sized hole through the rock, and leaving him temporarily vulnerable. Having ducked to the side, the ease with which the ninja is able to evade his attacks makes the battle seem extraordinarily one-sided. Sweeping the boy's spare leg off the ground, Sheik immediately flips up onto his torso in a handstand while he tumbles horizontally. Arcing her back into an impossible maneuver, she stomps both feet onto the boy's chest, stapling him to the ground as she gracefully soars atop the large monument. A brief grunt of pain is all Rift can offer, the wind knocked from his lungs in the sudden assault. Climbing back to his feet, his vision traces up past the small hole he punctured into the slab of concrete, and finally to the patient Sheikah standing atop it. Quickly losing his temper with the heightened class of enemy, the boy swings a wide kick to the side of the large monument, aiming to cause the ninja a temporary loss of balance. The slab of stone shifts over, the entire memorial cracking across its base just before Rift steps into a push kick at the bottom, shoving the entire accolade off of its base forcefully. The mildly clever attack takes far too long to catch Sheik off guard, allowing her to leap away from engraved slab of rock, kicking off at the very same moment the boy pushes the bottom. The end result is Rift's ample force working against him, the large stone spinning toward him as if a giant crank were attached to the side.

Unable to move out of the way in time, the boy falls victim to the whirling stone, but a quick, reflexive gesture prevents any damage, breaking the large rock in half as he separates his arms within the hole he created moments ago. The two chunks of rock land on either side of him with a heavy thud while the ninja lands gracefully a short distance away. Starting to sense the drastic advantage she possesses, Sheik decides to wear the boy down as opposed to going in for the kill. Two more arrays of spikes fly past Rift at angles too easily avoided to be considered lethal. Though his sudden bursts of speed are formidable, the strikes that follow always arrive too late to inflict any damage upon the skilled assassin. Time and time again the boy dashes in and throws an impressive combination, only to be laid flat upon the ground by the infinitely more experienced warrior. One particularly overzealous punch flies past the Sheikah's cheek as she steps forward and latches a hand onto Rift's vulnerable throat for a throwing technique. The direct physical interaction jars the ninja with an overwhelming influx of information, causing her to stumble to the side. Assuming he must have grazed her with the blow, the boy quickly follows with a kick, desperate to finally gain the upper hand. His shin meets the bottom of the Sheikah's foot, her absurdly limber form contorting to course the kick in a different direction while she spins on her back. A sweeping strike throws Rift's other leg out from under him, and once again, he finds himself laying upon the ground while the ninja nimbly flips away.

Everything the boy has experienced, and all of Mai's schemes envelope the Sheikah's mind like a dense cloud of understanding. The potent revelations steal her breath away for a moment as the concept of a fourth goddess, kept secret all this time, finally comes to light. Nayru's particular hatred of this guardian of the void shines through it all, a thoroughly biased version of historical events playing like a film reel in fast forward. All the years she has fought for the kingdom, and the world beyond, suddenly meaningless as far grander events have unfolded behind the scenes all the while. The one element pulling on her heart strings more than any other being the boy trapped in the middle of events eternally beyond his comprehension. Seduced by a companionship he would never find outside of his goddess, he has shed essential fragments of his humanity far too incrementally to have noticed. Now he stands on the precipice of the meaning of his existence without an ounce of the willpower he will need to make the right choice. Sheik knows the righteous path is to put him out of his misery, but even so, she cannot bring herself to such cruelty. The only thing left is for her to try and reach him, however impossible the task may seem.

"Rift," she starts, walking toward the boy with her arms passively at her sides.

"Wh-what? How do you know my name?" He responds, hopping back a step and remaining on guard.

"I am sorry for my ignorance, but now I understand," she continues, slowly stepping forward with no intention to attack. "You are a victim. You have been lied to and manipulated by the one you trust the most."

"What are you talking about? Th-this is some kind of trick," he decides, dashing forward once again. His one-two punch combination is slapped aside effortlessly before the ninja hooks the ankle of his lead leg with her foot, spinning so that her other heel lands directly behind his. While he struggles to keep his footing at the most critical moment of the maneuver, she pushes him over as if he has never known any manner of balance.

"She is lying to you, Rift," Sheik continues, circling the boy as he scrambles back to his feet. "You know of whom I speak. You care for her deeply, but when the time comes, she will discard you like—" she attempts to impart, the ninja's head rocking to the side from a sudden punch before the final syllables can pass through her lips. Stumbling back a step, she finds what she had expected, Mai's translucent form recoiling her fist as she glares with intense anger. Her attempts to tap into the boy's mind with her vast knowledge has stabbed the goddess in a vulnerable place, and forced her to play her hand.

"Finally, I'm strong enough to help you fight," Mai smirks, turning to her companion and giving him an assuring nod. "She's not strong enough to take on the both of us. That's why she's trying to confuse you. Nayru's never been much of a fighter," she continues, turning back to the Sheikah and beginning to circle around her. "But if you think my chosen is naïve enough to fall for your mind games, you've got another thing coming," she concludes, fading away once again.

"No, Rift," the ninja pleads, holding up her hands in a surrendering gesture. "I don't want to fight. Please listen."

"I've heard enough," the boy declares, dashing forward once again. His snap kick hits nothing but air, but the following question-mark kick causes Sheik to dodge predictably. Emerging from her chosen's form, Mai takes shape just long enough to swing a leg kick, then continue into a spinning back-fist. Narrowly dodging both strikes, the ninja finds herself back-pedaling as Rift picks up where his goddess left off, launching a jab, cross, body-shot combination as Mai fades away. The first two strikes are evaded, but the hook to the body lands as the Sheikah missteps. Without an instant to breathe between the seamless attacks, Mai appears once again, mimicking Rift's style, but with her own girlish flair. Faking a spinning back-kick, the goddess lifts her leg as she twirls, continuing into a tornado-kick to the head. The knockout-force attack flies just past the ninja's head with an audible whoosh as the goddess vanishes. Seizing the opportunity, the boy manages to land a heavy leg kick, buckling the Sheikah's knee as she struggles to remain elusive during the onslaught. The follow-up combo misses the mark, and the agile ninja slides between Rift's legs atop the cobblestones. Only halfway through, Shiek grabs hold of the sectioned stone sidewalk above her head, spreads her legs and rolls backward, throwing the boy into the air as she springs athletically back to her feet. Before she is even able to properly gain her bearings, a heavy knee lands on her lower back just to the right of her spine. Toppling to the ground in pain, she remains on her hands and knees as Mai fades into the mist once again.

"Rift," the Sheikah sighs, realizing her words thus far are only serving to strengthen Mai's grip upon the boy's thoughts. "You're not a bad person. You're not a killer. You only want to feel like you belong," she explains, cut off when another furious attack commences.

"You don't know me! Stop talking like you do!" He shouts, his kick combination parried as the ninja twists past him into another powerful judo throw. Tossed about like a ragdoll, the boy fails to realize the flawless technique of his opponent is merely being used to deflect his anger. Were her conscience any less demanding, she would have killed him with her initial assault. Phasing into existence directly behind her, Mai distracts Sheik with rapid blows just long enough for Rift to rejoin the fight. Halfway into a lunging step, the boy's shin is caught by the bridge of the Sheikah's foot, tripping him forward as she dips past him and grabs the collar of his armor. Utilizing his own momentum once again, she forces her weight backward, resulting in the both of them twirling in a circle. Barely able to retain his footing, Rift stumbles into a nearby tombstone, colliding with it harshly as he turns back toward his approaching foe.

"I do know you," Sheik assures, continuing to appeal to what is left of his contaminated soul. "It's not too late to come back, Rift. There is a place for you in this world," she points out, her eye twitching irritably when Mai assimilates next to him.

"Of course there is," she agrees, helping the boy to his feet and pressing herself against him as if she is cowering from the ninja's hurtful words. "Beneath the feet of all the violent, greedy people who don't care about him. We've tried living in our place. We've given your world a chance. Now we claim our own place. Now we make our own world," she continues, stepping away from her companion to point at Sheik accusingly. "A world without controllers like you. A world without the lust and hatred you and your people have produced. We will die before we return to the shackles of coins and crowns."

"A stirring speech," the ninja immediately retorts, eager to offer a counter argument to Rift's captivated ears. "Why don't you tell him what you're really after? Why don't you show him the world you would create for us all?"

"He's already seen it," Mai chuckles, turning to face the confused boy. "Though he can't understand it just yet," she sighs, taking his right hand and lifting it toward his eyes. "He will... In time."

"Enough of your lies!" The Sheikah declares, fed up with the goddess's deceptive rhetoric. "I know what you are," she declares, her tone leveling as her focus amplifies. An unnatural wind begins to encase the ninja, her long braid slithering through the air weightlessly.

"I wouldn't if I were you," Mai smirks, glaring at her mischievously.

"I fight for the patron of wisdom," Sheik announces, a golden light beginning to emanate from her form. Standing behind his goddess in a state of awe, Rift looks from Mai to the Sheikah and back again as he waits for the dialogue to reach a fathomable conclusion. The dark, grey gravestones begin to shine as the radiant light engulfing the ninja glows even brighter. "For your crimes against all of creation, I pass judgment in her stead. I return you to the very prison you escaped. You will be sealed within the balance of the Triforce once again, and your influence on the souls of the living with return to the pathetic state it once knew."

"Try it," the goddess dares with an aggressive tone, a crazed look of fearlessness crawling into her eyes. Still lost in a trance, Rift finally takes notice of Mai's hand, dangling just out of Sheik's view and pointing at the large monument at the rear of the graveyard.

"Nayru," the Sheikah whispers under her breath. "Lend me your strength." A lightning-fast handspring lands the ninja's feet atop a tombstone, launching her high into the air as she leaps off the engraved slab. Her golden essence rapidly concentrates into an ethereal bow, a golden arrow of blinding light drawn tightly back as she squares up the shot. Behind her back, Mai initiates a three count as the boy fails to understand the depth of her plan. Every perceptible ounce of light in the area is pulled into the arrow, the graveyard eclipsed in the darkest black as Sheik prepares to fire. Three. Releasing her deep breath, the ninja smiles as escape from the holy projectile is no longer an option for the pale lady of the void. Two. A terrified step backward causes Rift to collide with the smooth stone behind him, and suddenly, he understands. One. "Fierce Deity!" The Sheikah screams as the glowing feathers slide through her fingers, "release him!"

"Now!" Rift cries at the top of his lungs, his eyes squinting through his outstretched palm. Unable to feel the impact of his goddess tackling him, the boy cringes as the purifying light bolts past him, and through the portal upon the tombstone. A shriek of pain is instantly drowned out by the thunderous blast of electricity when the projectile finds the ninja's back. Quivering lines of divine light leap from her form, darting high into the clouds and destroying everything in their path upon the ground. The unimaginable knowledge of a thousand millennia flows in through all of her senses simultaneously, Sheik's convulsing body acting as a lightning rod of divinity. Her screams rise and fall over the deafening sound of lightning, splitting tombstones and earth alike below her. Should the purifying torrent of light continue much longer, she will become a demigod. Her consciousness fading quickly, she feels Nayru herself pull her soul open, and climb in, spreading out and seizing control of her chaotic mind and spirit. Seconds later, the devastating storm subsides, and Zelda tumbles downward in her ruined dress, falling and falling until finally landing upon a patch of grass. Her ravished dress and wild hair lie upon the ground as if she were the contents of a paint bucket, splashed upon the grass and left to dry. Unable to move a muscle, the utterly depleted queen exhales in feverish bursts, slowly failing to remain conscious.

"Kill him," she hears Mai command, somewhere in her vicinity. Without the energy to focus on her surroundings, she feels Rift hesitate more so than actually sensing it. "He will find another form and try to stop us again," the goddess explains, undoubtedly running her fingers through his hair as she pushes him to defy his nature. "Kill him, Rift... For me." The helpless groan of a ghostly man echoes through the wind, traveling between the few gravestones that still stand. Managing to weakly clench her fist, Zelda cannot feel the blades of grass between her fingers, though the resistance they provide assures her she is still able to move. "Her next. You can do it," she assures, her pitiless tone turning the queen's stomach. Feeling as if she is trapped within a dark nightmare, Zelda cannot convince her muscles to cooperate, whimpering and rocking slightly with every attempt. The boy is upon her, and her vision of the all-consuming void returns. A stoic sort of evil resonates within the swirling quagmire, inviting her in with its sheathed claws. Suddenly, a massive explosion shakes the earth violently, but the source is a complete mystery to her. The unwelcome exertion weakens her body even more so than before, and the last thing Zelda hears before passing out is footsteps quickly moving away.

## Hylian Hero:

### A Problem of Choice

The dark surroundings pass by in a blur as Link rides hard toward the castle. The massive explosion rocked even the distant forest as the Hylian returned from his brief excursion to Termina. Fearing the worst, he has no time to lament over the distractions he allowed to draw him away from his obligations. The only thing that matters now is Zelda's safety, and should he find her harmed, he will never forgive himself. Flying past the bridge leading to Kakariko, Link cannot shake the feeling he should be riding in that direction. A sixth sense pulling him away from the castle, though it should be the first place he investigates. His feelings of dread get the better of him, and with a subtle jerk of the reins, Epona cuts sharply to the right and gallops into the village. The setting is eerily quiet, the vast majority of the inhabitants having moved into the castle until the slow moving repairs show some progress. The moon casts a dim glow upon the wreckage many people once called home. Circling the massive gorge at the village's center, the Hylian notices several small rocks tumbling down the gradual hill near the windmill. The scraping of shifting stone sounds in short durations from all directions, as if Death Mountain itself is toying with the idea of collapse. A tense feeling overtakes his senses, something about his surroundings unsettlingly altered. Charging between decimated homes, Link makes his way past the steady trickle of tumbling pebbles and into the graveyard.

The signs of a recent battle are all too apparent as the hero dismounts his horse and scans the area. Random, incomprehensible gashes are carved into the mountainous walls enclosing the area, entire gravestones slashed in half by some unknown force. Ascending past the destroyed slab of rock at the entrance, Link glances left to discover exactly what he had hoped not to. Lying motionlessly in the grass, Zelda's form appears as if it were tied to a horse and dragged across Hyrule Field. Rushing to her side, he quickly lifts her into his lap, brushing the hair out of her face and praying she is still alive. Her elegant visage, marred with dirt and small bruises, remains static despite Link's efforts. He spends no time pondering how this could have happened, or who is responsible. Instead he simply blames himself for becoming distracted. For being too weak to put a stop to the violence sooner. Touching a hand to her cheek and leaning in close, he finds his misplaced determination when he hears her faint breathing. For the briefest of moments, he considered giving in to despair, but a hero has no time for such irrelevant thoughts. Scooping her off the ground as if she weighs nothing at all, the hero quickly rushes back to Epona. The wise old horse promptly kneels down to allow Link easier access, situating Zelda on the saddle before climbing on himself. Moments later, they are dashing through Kakariko, en route to the castle.

The obliterated entrance reveals just how much Link has missed during his absence. Without missing a beat, Epona leaps the moat gracefully, charging through the empty streets with purpose. The sound of hooves beating upon the stone roadways seems thunderous, the otherwise silent town void of any activity. Dashing through the square, the hero spots the origin of the explosion, the absurd radius of destruction reaching well into the town. Taking a brief detour, Link soon finds the church must have been ground zero, not even a pebble of the foundation remaining where it once stood. Short puffs of wind breathe down upon the crater, anyone standing in the path of whatever caused such devastation certainly gone from this world. The massive wall protecting the town now suffers a gaping weakness, the centuries-old erection blasted away as if it were hit by torrential cannon fire. Finding no answers within the desolation, the hero steers his steed back to the main street, charging up the hill to the castle in seconds. Ignoring the degree of alarm he injects into the guards, Link pushes Epona right up to the double-doors of the castle foyer, kicking them open with a grandiose sense of urgency. Before the sentries can scramble to respond, the hero has already reached the stairs, dismounting and gingerly pulling the queen down into his arms.

"Help! Someone help!" A woman seated upon the stairs shouts, most of the crowd of refugees shying to the edges of the large room as the intruder's intentions are thus far a mystery.

"The queen is hurt!" Another calls, braving a couple steps closer. Finally recognizing the ragged woman dangling from Link's arms, the drowsy group begins to rush forward, each and every member of the rabble desperate to see the extent of their queen's injuries. Gasps and shouts quickly rouse the rest of the castle, and within moments a rush of servants and guards alike back the crowd away and guide Link up the stairs to Zelda's chambers.

"What happened?" An eccentric, young servant asks, attempting to keep pace with the human gurney whisking the queen to the comfort of her bed. Briefly eyeing Link's concerned face, she smiles bashfully before returning to assessing Zelda's condition. If she had realized sooner it was her highness's silent suitor carrying her, she would not have bothered asking. "You've really done it this time," she sighs, scolding the unconscious woman while keeping a tone of genuine compassion. Finally reaching the queen's room, her hero delicately places her upon the bed, backing away for the moment to allow the servants access. Piping hot towels, fresh clothes, and expensive medicine come swarming into the room as Link feels unwanted eyes upon him. Moving back through the door, he emerges into the hallway, his only company seeming to be a pair of maids carrying a large bowl of water as quickly as they're able. Pausing in the center of the hall, the women dash into the room before Malune breaks the silence.

"What the hell did you do?" The guard captain growls in his immature voice. Turning toward him in no particular hurry, Link doesn't so much as blink as the young man steps into his face. "You think this is some kind of game? She's not your plaything to throw into harm's way!" He asserts, shoving the hero aggressively. An involuntary muscle twitch occurs in the blink of an eye. A knee-jerk reaction Link could not control snaps his left hand around his sword handle. A demoralizing gaze, not of hatred, but of cold necessity locks onto the younger swordsman as he too reaches for his temporary blade. The years of danger and battle have numbed the hero's skills of diplomacy, and he plays the battle out in his subconscious mind. Three moves. The man is skilled, but Link would cut him down in three moves. Malune draws his blade slowly, prompting the hero to do the same. A sort of game played to see who will be the first to back down from the rapidly escalating situation. The seconds of uncertainty have drawn out far too long and Navi decides to intervene.

"Hey! That's enough!" She demands, hoping to make each of the men feel guilty. "There's no time for this chauvinistic crap! Now back off, both of you!" Heading her words first, Link lowers the blade to his side slowly, rising from his battle stance as he realizes she is right. Standing upright himself, Malune fails to lighten his demeanor in the least as a pair of guards quickly march down the hall to join him.

"You need to remember your place. A commoner steals the queen away in the night and returns with her half dead. Anyone else would be on their way to execution already," the captain points out, even more confident in the presence of his men. His head rocking slightly to the side, Link obviously couldn't feel any less intimidated by the empty threat, twirling the borrowed sword in his hand and tossing it handle-first at Malune's chest. Catching the blade awkwardly, the captain smirks at the disrespectful act of gratitude, sheathing the sword he loaned at the queen's request without a word of respect to offer.

"Is that how you'd have it?" Navi asks with a resentful tone. "Fancy yourself a king?"

"Keep your distance," he adds, ignoring the question. "I don't want to have this conversation again. I will protect the throne from all enemies, understand? Even those believed to be friends." As Links expression begins to turn from impudence to distain, a welcome cry comes from within the bedroom.

"She's awake!" One of the servants declares with a joyous declaration.

"She wants to see Link," another reports, searching the room for the ragged hero. Before Malune can turn back to face him, Link walks right through the overzealous guard, bucking him aside with a shoulder as he casually passes by. Eager to counter, the captain is thrown off balance as Navi aggressively darts into his face, eluding his flailing swipes while Link consoles his companion.

"They said you carried me here," she starts, her tone abysmally tired. "How romantic," she adds with a dazed smile. Crouched next to the bed, the hero takes her hand in both of his, smiling a tired smile himself. "It was the boy. The boy in the hood. Don't underestimate him," she warns, struggling to focus her thoughts. "He is being controlled. I see the goddess's designs, but I cannot understand," she pauses, carefully arranging her words. "Rift has a part to play in all of this." The irritating child has a name, though the piece of information is trivial at best. Controlled or not, the boy will pay for what he has done. Thoughts of violence have rarely dominated Link's thought process, but then again, his love has never been so gravely injured. "Ganon sought revenge for his execution, and he's found it in abundance. The sages are dead," she reveals, pulling the hero back into the conversation. "With their medallions, he will open the portal to the twilight realm, and darkness will consume our land once again. I can't see what lies beyond, but I know you'll find a way to stop him." The half-circle of women all listen intently as Zelda informs Link of the grand schemes coming into play. Giving her hand a brief squeeze, the hero prepares to depart. "Wait," she breathes, hanging on to his hand tightly as a new vision reveals itself. "You must make a choice. Unfathomable strength will be offered, but the power will change you. If you choose not to accept, you may not survive what lies ahead," she reveals, seeming to look inward as she studies the incalculable revelations streaming into her mind. "Your path has never been of thoughtless strength, but of courage. Please, make the right choice."

"He already has," Navi chimes in, hovering overhead. It seems to be enough to put the queen's mind at ease as she releases Link's hand and relaxes. The mask salesman was far from pleased, but the hero walked away empty handed, leaving the sinister clerk on his knees, begging for Link to reconsider. In the end it was his father's warning he heeded, despite the grand temptation. Live with honor, fight with valor, and die without regret. He intends to do exactly that.

"Well go on," the lively maid who followed Link to the room urges happily. "Kiss her." With a subtle chuckle, the hero leans over the exhausted queen, kissing her deeply as she weakly wraps a hand behind his neck. Seconds later, the hand goes limp and Zelda has fallen into a deep slumber. Unaffected by the awkward applause from the servants, Link marches out of the room rapidly, ignoring Malune's attempts to stop him and storming down the large staircase leading back to the foyer. The guard's pathetic attempts to shoo Epona back outside fail as she turns to greet Link, knocking one of them over. Seeming to glide up and onto the saddle, Link spurs his heels and rockets back into the night, the harsh clamor of hooves upon the stone streets pumping up his adrenaline. If Ganondorf's ambition is the twilight realm, there is only one place he could be now.

Dawn's light has breached the horizon as Link rides across the long, rope bridge linking Hyrule Field to the Gerudo Village. Formerly the hideout of the Gerudo thieves, the area underwent drastic changes once Nabooru drove the last of the criminals out. With Ganondorf's death came a brief time of peace, and with no one to challenge her authority, Nabooru established a village where the Gerudo women could live in harmony with men and women of all races. A pair of Gorons opened a blacksmithing shop, and the Zora established a trading post at the nearby river. Though the drought became the worst of times for many of the inhabitants of Hyrule, the Gerudo Village prospered, their lifestyles already accustomed to a severe lack of water. The dim light and muffled hoofbeats upon the sand allow Link to pass through the heart of the town unnoticed, the sleeping village doomed to darker days if the hero cannot stop the king of thieves in time. Several smaller huts extend the town's perimeter well into the desert, vanishing behind the Hylian in the distance as a strange aura begins to come into view. The sun's rays begin to grow brighter, and still the horizon remains dark as night, the point in the distance the hero charges toward remaining cloaked by some unnatural atmosphere. Charging over one last sand dune, the Arbiter's Grounds rises into view, and the nightmarish emanations do not bode well.

A river of darkness pours from the coliseum's open roof, staining the sky like ink being poured into an ocean. Tentacles of black slither out of the doors and windows of the ancient structure, spreading into the desert like a growing plague. With no time to lose, Link spurs his horse forward, sprinting for the entrance of the colossal prison. Dismounting Epona, the hero gives his trusty steed a nod, and without a second glance, the horse races out of the area, eager to leave the ominous place. The spreading cloud of darkness has no smell or texture, seeming only to exist in the visual realm as Link dashes through it, climbing to the central area of the sand-coated building. Another potent feeling of dread sharpens his senses as he leaps upward several steps at a time, the worst case scenario playing out in his mind just before the massive chamber comes into view. The stone which serves as the barrier between Hyrule and the realm of twilight has been opened, and dozens of dark creatures flood through the open doorway. Transformed by and drawn to Ganondorf's evil spirit, the monsters are given free rein to spread throughout the realm of light. Some spread their dark wings and ascend into the sky while others quickly lumber on all fours, climbing up the walls and leaping through the many archways of the structure. A powerful wind radiates in all directions, casting a blinding curtain of sand from the room's center. Sprawled upon the ground just beside the portal, Midna lies upon the whirling sands, instantly reminding Link of the state he found his love in. An entire battalion of Twili guardsmen lie defeated upon the sands, their efforts to protect the doorway clearly ending in failure. Only a couple steps into the room, the hero lowers the hand shielding his face as he realizes a battle is well underway.

Agilely flipping and dodging away, Rift narrowly eludes a haymaker punch from Ganondorf, backing into the wall at the edge of the area. The Gerudo king fires an orb of darkness at the boy just as he dips backward through a conjured portal. The blast creates a sizeable hole in the stones, but fails to harm the resourceful boy. Suddenly descending from above, Rift nearly manages to catch his opponent off guard, missing his temple with a spinning back-fist at the last moment. Letting out an angry roar, the dark lord reaches into the air above him before slamming his palm to the ground, causing an eruption of sand to blast upward all around him. As the boy is sent into the air from the blast, Link decides to intervene. Charging against the steady wind, he scoops the shield off his back, twirling it in his hand before twisting his arm through the grip. His sword hand grabs at the empty air, and the hero instantly remembers returning the sword to Malune. Taking a second to lament, he hears a distant whoosh of air, like a whip swinging through a gust of wind.

"Look out!" Navi warns, having only just noticed the ambush herself. Reflexively spinning into a defensive position, Link feels a small projectile clang off his shield before a powerful explosion knocks him off his feet. Rapidly returning to his senses, he spots his shield speared into the ground a short distance away, but a new foe has emerged and is closing in quickly.

"Where is the Sheikah?" A calm voice demands as the woman draws closer. Rolling to a knee, Link eyes the unfamiliar Gerudo, confused by her disc-shaped bun of vivid blonde hair. Slowly creeping a hand behind his back, he offers no response as her demeanor grows even less friendly. "I won't ask again," she warns, drawing another kunai from the holster on her belt. The tense standoff lasts a moment longer before a purple orb rockets between them, exploding when it collides with the wall near the entrance. A wayward shot missing Rift, and unintentionally initiating another fight. Reeling backward for a moment, Less quickly whips her projectile at the still-crouching Link, aiming to wound, but not to kill. In a heartbeat, the hero draws his bow and lines up an arrow, the twang of the bowstring lost in the nearby explosion. With pinpoint accuracy, the arrow hits the soaring knife, each of the projectiles colliding with equal force and tumbling to the ground. Her usually emotionless nature failing her for a moment, Less's eyes grow wide with shock as she immediately draws a second dagger. Another skillful throw, and another projectile knocked down by a perfect shot. Beginning to circle her opponent, the Gerudo launches her throwing weapons at varying angles, simply attempting to hit her target anywhere at all. Rising to his feet, Link is able to draw, aim, and fire just as rapidly as his foe, shooting down attack after attack.

Frustrated by his unexpected degree of skill, Less throws two daggers at once, knowing one of them must hit the mark. Twisting his body to the side, Link narrowly avoids one of the projectiles while shooting down the other. Sensing his vulnerability, the Gerudo repeats the assault, launching the pair of kunai in a vertical line instead of horizontal. Drawing his hookshot like a gunslinger, Link drops to a knee as he fires, blasting one knife aside while the other flies overhead. With an uncharacteristic squeak, Less bends over backward as the extending chain rockets past her and spears into the wall. Jerked forward by the recoiling tool, the Hylian scoops his wayward shield off the ground as he closes in on the recovering enemy. With only a second to react, the Gerudo nimbly steps up onto the chain, leaping higher into the air just before Link flies past. Spinning around she launches three daggers in her wake, only to see them bounce off the Hylian's kite shield harmlessly as he ascends toward the wall.

Dropping into the fray where the two have just departed, Rift immediately dashes backward as Ganondorf lands with a destructive punch, creating a shockwave around him as deep fissures leap outward like lightning bolts, pillars of earth rising and falling in a rippling effect. A rapid rush of strikes from the boy hardly cause the Gerudo king to even flinch, the heavy hitting blows only lining Rift up for a powerful front kick to his chest. Tumbling head over heels, the boy manages to find his feet as his momentum slows, but a series of glyphs summoned by the dark lord allow the warlock to quickly close the distance. The mighty punch misses the elusive boy, though the force from the attack alone is almost enough to push him back a step. Attempting to counter once again, Rift lands a spinning kick to the Gerudo's temple, but the stalwart foe grabs hold of the boy's leg before he can even retract it. His pig-like visage growing even more evil in its distorted appearance, Ganondorf throws his opponent into the air, conjuring another large, purple ring of symbols beneath his feet. The glyph blasts him upward, soaring right past Rift as the boy attempts to block the feigned assault. Long before reaching the apex of his ascent, another magical platform warps into place above the Gerudo as he flips upside down and comes to an abrupt stop. Launching himself downward with twice the momentum, the king of thieves flips into a downward stomp, the likes of which there is no defense against. As Rift crosses his arms in anticipation, the debilitating blow forces his arms into his chest, knocking him unconscious long before he hits the sand with a terrible thud.

Dashing in close for a more intimate approach, Less unsheathes a much larger kunai, slashing at Link furiously as he predicts her every stroke. A diagonal swing is dodged, and the following kick is batted aside as the hero plans out his optimal time to counter. Sensing an opening, the Gerudo lunges forward with a back-handed stab, determined to pierce the Hylian's vulnerable torso. Catching the woman's wrist, Link twists it aside just before she punches at his throat. The strike is slapped downward as the hero dips forward with her captive wrist held above his head. A powerful back-handed strike bounces off of his foe's stomach, causing the woman to gasp for breath as her wrist is released. A desperate stab attempt arcs toward Link's head as Less grows increasingly angry, but the hero dashes into her as he turns, utilizing a technique Zelda taught him years ago. Her own momentum turned against her, Less tumbles over the Hylian's shoulder, landing flat upon her back as the judo throw is completed. Nimbly rolling back to a knee, she realizes the fight is concluded as Link already has an arrow drawn tightly back, and aimed squarely at her head. Her sister's honor on the line, the Gerudo's pride gets the better of her as she charges forward with a fearless war-cry. Hoping to call his bluff, Less's heart skips a beat as the arrow is released. The instant the projectile takes to travel the short distance seems like forever in her mind, and finally, it hits its mark.

A sharp, cracking noise sounds over the howling wind for only a moment as Ganondorf lands next to the boy, weakly attempting to determine his bearings as consciousness returns to him. Locking his eyes upon his distant daughter, the Gerudo king's thirst for violence dissipates in an instant, watching her head rock backward from the impact. Her ebony jewel, her badge of honor amongst thieves, shattered by the pitiless Hylian in his quest to end Ganondorf's treachery. Her senses simultaneously paralyzed with an intensely disorienting feeling, the woman touches a hand to her forehead to discover only pale flesh where her treasured jewel once rested. Balance fails her completely as she limply collapses to the sand next to the arrow that knocked her out. With a faint degree of remorse for the misguided thief, Link leaves her where she lies just the same. Enemy or not, killing her would serve no purpose in the grand scheme of things. Scowling through the consistent wind pouring from the dark stone at the arena's center, the hero squares up his next target. His rage having left him for the moment, Ganondorf considers his options as the boy in the hood slowly climbs back to his feet. The first arrow screams across the battleground, and his mind is made up.

Dashing away from the disoriented and confused Rift, the king of thieves pays no attention to the torrent of arrows flying at him. A transparent shield materializes about his frame, encasing his body within a dark sphere. The projectiles rapidly pierce the orb, but remain stuck halfway through, as if they are impaling a gigantic apple. An indelicate arm scoops the twilight princess off the ground, and the dark lord slings her over his shoulder like a barbarian plundering a village. Realizing his bow is not up to the task, Link breaks into a sprint, determined to finish this endless struggle for the realm. Turning back toward him with a devilish smile, Ganondorf focuses for a moment then swings a dismissive arm across his chest, disengaging his protective shield. The sphere suddenly expands as it vanishes, throwing all of the caught arrows outward in a random, shrapnel-like pattern. Ducking behind his shield at the last moment, two of the half dozen wooden missiles hit his metal defense with a hard clang. Without missing a beat, the Hylian resumes his charge as the Gerudo king tosses Midna's limp form over his horse's saddle. Desperate to reach his nemesis in time, Link curses his fate when an ethereal fist sucker-punches him.

Only losing his balance for a moment, the hero turns to find Rift a surprising distance away as a ghostlike form directly in front of the hero concludes dissipating. Considering simply ignoring the futile attack, Link soon realizes there is still some fight left in the boy as he charges the Hylian aggressively. A sloppy one-two combination is knocked aside as Link counters with two rapid lefts to the body. Cringing from the blow, Rift feigns another punch, successfully landing a leg-kick while his foe dodges backward. Yearning to gain the upper hand, the boy twists into a spinning back-fist, missing the Hylian completely as he ducks into an uppercut. The rising fist glances off Rift's cheek, and he narrowly evades the knockout punch. Certain he has the hero's number, the boy lunges forward with a left cross before the failed uppercut has even begun to recoil. Drifting backward, Link awkwardly shuffles his feet beneath him as the punch closes in on its target. A twirling right arm bats the punch downward as a left hook angles into the boy's chin. Only just realizing he dropped his guard during the attack, Rift's entire body spins one hundred eighty degrees from the impact, the abrupt counter dropping him to the ground instantly. With the insufferable boy lying motionless at his feet, Link sees his chance to be rid of him at long last.

"Ha ha ha ha!" The Gerudo laughs maniacally, his deep voice piercing through the droning wind and latching onto the hero's ears. At a steady gallop, Ganondorf charges out of the structure with Midna draped across the saddle. His anger reaching an all-time high, Link glares down at the boy's innocent face with shaking fists. Without a second to lose, he cannot consider his feelings or weigh his options in this matter. The boy has a part to play. Zelda's words breathe down upon the horizons of his mind, but even so Link must wonder what good could possibly come of sparing him. The hoofbeats of the Gerudo's dark steed fade away, and the hero realizes what he must do.

## The Empty Handed:

### Some Angels have Empty Hearts

Consciousness has come and persistently remained, like an overly attached pet it refuses to leave the boy alone, thwarting his every attempt to elude it. Mai must know by now he is awake, but even so he remains where he lies, too ashamed to arise and realize his defeat. His surroundings have changed drastically, though he has yet to take them in, still residing where Link left him in pursuit of a higher class of foe. The dark gateway leading to the twilight realm remains open, but the peaceful inhabitants of the realm have yet to make an appearance, the world of light too much for their bodies to endure. The twilight princess valiantly made attempt on Ganondorf's life when the dark lord opened the portal, but she and her paltry army stood no chance. The hatred her men held in their hearts was amplified by the warlock's magic, transforming them into shadow beasts once again. It is all too obvious Ganondorf sought the sealed realm of his internment for this very purpose. The Twili are still a young race, their souls yet to accept their fate, still searching for a reason why they are eternally imprisoned within the dark dimension. Why they must remain segregated from the world of light due to the actions of their malevolent ancestors. Though the king of thieves would see this trait as weakness to be exploited, Mai observes it as a sort of unaltered purity. The fear and violence that drives men to power is all but absent in the twilight realm, Midna's guidance, and that of her forbearers, leading her people to an evolved state of peace. Now that the door has been thrown open a second time, she will be forced to ponder at what cost such a state of tranquility was achieved. The hearts and minds of her subjects are too fragile, too easily corrupted to stand a chance against such potent evil.

Finally opening his eyes, Rift finds what he expected. Mai lying beside him, smiling a sad smile of obligatory encouragement while she waits for some kind of sign he is prepared to continue. With an exasperated sigh, he averts his eyes, staring into the ebbing and flowing ocean of darkness pouring out of the huge stone behind him. At first glance, the air seems as though it would be toxic to breathe in, but the effects of the dark hue staining the open air prove purely psychological. The recent battle rewinds and plays in his mind for the tenth time. The combination of speed and power Ganondorf wields seems every bit as impossible as it is overwhelming. If there is a weakness in his technique, it is nothing Rift is able to perceive. Though he attributes Link's knockout punch to his weakened state, deep down he knows the Hylian beat him fair and square. Three opponents. One with too much compassion to harm him, one with too much honor to finish him, and one who would crush him without a second thought. The boy can't help but wonder where he fits into such a balance.

"Come on, we've lain here long enough. It's just a temporary setback," Mai assures, prodding him to become any degree of animated.

"I lost," Rift states plainly, shaking his head. "I wasn't strong enough."

"Not yet. We still need the final piece. Then we'll show them!" She announces, hoping the prospect is enough to motivate him.

"What's the point? They're both so much stronger than I am. They've always been the ones who fight over Hyrule, right? Let them," he starts, not entirely sure where he is going.

"Let them what? Kill each other? It won't change anything. It never has. My sisters are just using them to," she pauses, realizing she is beginning to speak too freely.

"What?" Rift asks, raising an eyebrow.

"My sisters will never allow their chosen to change anything," she admits, deciding the cat is already out of the bag. "They use them to let the people think there is a struggle between good and evil. The thing is, no matter who wins, everything stays the same. The strong still bully the weak, the poor still go hungry, and the fear and hate is always near, just waiting for an opportunity to corrupt. Even in the best of times, too many are forced to suffer."

"So what can I do?" He asks, feeling hopelessness wash over him.

"We can break the cycle. We can finally end my sister's game forever. Once we've gotten rid of their pawns, we can go after them directly," she explains as a noise to her left grabs her attention.

Climbing out of the sand herself, Less shakes her head as her dizzying perception slowly returns to normal. Equally disgraced in defeat, she notices Rift painfully move to a sitting position after Mai has already vanished. Curiously moving closer, she can see her own expression reflected in the boy's face as she squats down a safe distance away.

"Hey," she greets, the awkward conversation feeling somehow necessary to her.

"Hey," Rift replies, briefly lifting a greeting hand. Not in the mood for conversation, he sees no reason to be unnecessarily rude.

"What are you fighting for?" She asks after a moment, reflecting on the question herself as she waits for his answer. It is a question she has asked herself time and again, yet the answer has seldom been the same.

"An end to suffering," he stoically responds, shocking her with his immediate retort.

"An end to suffering," she repeats, staring into space and nodding with comprehension. "Seems noble enough. Maybe that's what I need."

"Huh?" He inquires, leaning closer as her voice trails off.

"A noble goal. A just cause. You know, something worth fighting for," she explains, simply thinking out loud at this point. "Something that will be there tomorrow, and the day after." A short time passes with no words spoken, the two warriors contemplating their individual purposes.

"What will you do now?" Rift finally asks, breaking the silence.

"I'll return to Gerudo Village. The traitor may not have been what she seemed. Maybe all Gerudo start to think this way once they've escaped the king's influence. Think about living an honest life. A peaceful life. I only want what's best for my people."

"I understand," the boy nods, smiling genuinely at her personal revelation.

"What about you?"

"I'll just keep fighting I guess. They didn't kill me. They'll regret that," he subtly proclaims, rising to his feet and dusting himself off.

"Haven't you heard the stories about them? You don't know what you're getting yourself into," she insists, standing upright herself.

"Maybe not, but that won't stop me," he shrugs, spinning into a defensive position when a scratching sound emanates from behind. A shadow beast crawls out through the opened portal stone, pulling its inverted form up onto the top of the dark monolith before spotting its company. The creature shakes with rage, its bulky, humanoid body topped with a large mask concealing its entire head. Dozens of thin tentacles protrude from the top and bottom of the faceless piece of intricately carved stone, hanging heavily while the creature takes in its surroundings.

"I'll handle this," Less declares, pulling a weighted kunai from the small of her back. Sensing the danger, the dark beast suddenly utters a terrible howl, quickly scampering down the side of the massive stone. Seconds later, dozens of the angry shadows climb out of the portal like ravenous insects, scouring the area for prey.

"You were saying?" Rift asks with a hint of anxiety. Rapidly locking onto the unfortunate duo, the creatures begin to encircle them.

"Follow me," Less exclaims, plucking a special knife from a sheath on her arm and spearing it into the ground. An explosion of disorienting smoke engulfs the area as the monsters collectively charge inward. Struggling to keep up with the nimble scout, Rift only makes it halfway to the entrance before several more of the creatures appear in the archway.

"This way," the boy instructs, grabbing the Gerudo by the arm and tugging her toward the outer wall of the coliseum. The number of aggressive antagonists continues to multiply as Rift leads Less to what appears to be certain doom.

"What are you doing? We're trapped!" She shouts, jerking her arm free and loading her knuckles with projectiles. There are far too many to fight, but she has no intention of going down easily.

"Trust me," the boy assures, scooping an arm around her waist and leaping toward the wall.

"What are you," she shrieks, enraged by Rift's seemingly thoughtless antics.

"Now!" He shouts, diving through the conjured portal on the wall as the monsters dive in for the kill. Tearing herself from the boy's grasp, Less gracefully flips back onto her feet, though gravity betrayed her senses briefly. Ready to strike her brazen ally down, the sudden change in scenery finally eases into her perception.

"What," she starts, absolutely confused when she spots the teeming mass of black on the ground far below them. High atop the crumbling walls of the structure, the entire desert is visible through the blanket of black cascading outward from the structure. The afternoon sun seems more like a full moon, the effect of the merging Twilight Realm causing midday to seem like midnight.

"It's hard to explain. I wouldn't think about it too much if I were you," the boy shrugs nonchalantly.

"But," she mumbles, blinking several times and shaking her head.

"Don't you have a village to protect? These things will probably find it soon," he points out, squatting down near the edge of the lofty balcony overlooking the area.

"Yeah... Who are you?" She finally asks, her curiosity peaked. Taking far too long to contemplate his answer, the boy studies the woman's face before offering his reply.

"Nobody," he sighs, turning away and dropping through another portal. The ghostly blue hue of the dimensional window fades away seconds later, and Less is left with more questions than answers. Nevertheless, the mysterious young stranger is right, and with no time to lose, she departs for Gerudo Village.

"She seemed nice," Mai quips, insinuating something more.

"Oh don't start," Rift sighs, carefully eluding the patrolling beasts as he makes his way into the bowels of the prison. Their antics that of thoughtless animals at first, the boy notes their movements gaining a sort of purpose. They seem to communicate through inexplicable noises and gestures as they form a perimeter around the prison and prepare to move out across Hyrule.

"What? I only said," the goddess starts, quick to defend herself.

"You don't have to say it. You're jealous," he accuses with a smile, stealthily moving past chasms of sand, spiraling down into pits of certain death. The massive stone architecture of the structure implies its ancient nature, having been constructed long before the majority of the oldest buildings in Hyrule. The further Rift ventures inside, the less shadow beasts he encounters.

"How dare you," Mai states slowly with an exaggerated attitude.

"Oh, here we go," the boy chuckles, rolling his eyes. "I can't even talk to a girl without you acting like this," he asserts, the pair bickering like an old married couple as he searches for the entrance to the final temple.

"That tears it!" She asserts, her tone teetering somewhere between sarcasm and seriousness. "I'm not talking to you for the rest of the temple."

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," he sarcastically groans.

"Nope. Too late. And I don't like your tone either," she points out, growing more and more stubborn all the time.

"Don't be like that. I didn't' mean it that way," he admits with a hint of sincerity. Even so, Mai holds true to her threat, and the boy continues forward in silence. A faint amount of light spills through a large crack in the ceiling, illuminating the otherwise dim area. Leaping across another death-trap of hungry sand, Rift reaches a corner of the room where the wall is oddly discolored. Apparently some sort of bizarre effect of the lighting, the boy knows better, stepping through the magenta-colored portal without a second thought. The Dark Spirit Temple is far more intimidating than Rift had anticipated. Standing within a small alcove of stone, a waterfall of deep, purple sand slowly pours around him, churning into a vast lake of inescapable grains. A barely perceptible hissing quickly becomes an unnoticed white-noise, the grains tumbling over each other in a slow race to the bottom. The setting is much darker than he would prefer, but four steady streams of dim, pink sand slither through the rivers of purple from the corners of the massive room. The pink sand seems to be the only source of light, glowing brightly at the sources, then slowly dimming as it disperses into the dry ocean. A staircase directly in front of the alcove leads gradually down, but the flow of sand has all but overtaken it, only small, elevated sections revealed between the rivers of purple tumbling over the path. Without much choice in the matter, the boy begins downward.

The sand offers little current, Rift's every step sinking knee-deep in the pink and purple mixture as he tries to avoid buried pitfalls. The crumbling path of the ancient temple drifts left and right as the boy continues down the twisting stairs, the amount of light slowly eroding away as he finally reaches the base. Held aloft by four stalwart pillars, a platform stands alone high above the whirlpool below. The roof of the lofted room points steeply upward like a short silo with a sharpened roof. His vision drifting up to the ceiling of the temple, the boy sees indiscernible shapes, the area above his position too dark to make them out clearly. A gazebo of sorts, the small structure before him has an octagonal exterior offering four entry points, but upon leaping the short distance into the tent of stone, Rift finds nothing of interest inside. Confused by the seemingly pointless area, he walks to the opposite side of the enclosure to find another small alcove similar to the one housing the portal at the entrance. At its center rests a large lever begging to be pulled. Two pillars stand between the boy and his goal, obviously having held up a bridge at some point in the past. Three brief leaps later, he has reached his destination, though the pillars expectedly crumbled and collapsed in his wake. Squeezing the handle of the large lever, Rift pulls it all the way to the opposite position on the semi-circular dial at its base. A deep click sounds from somewhere in the bowels of the temple, like a key turning in a lock amplified a thousand times. The southeastern portion of the massive room grows noticeably brighter, the mystical, pink sand doubling its flow from that direction. Assuming it to be one of the trials this particular temple offers, Rift proceeds back toward the central platform, leaping into the open air without a second thought.

"Here," Mai offers, breaking her silence at long last. Seemingly jolted from a trance by her sudden offer of assistance, Rift misses her open hand clumsily, tumbling down into the vortex of purple below. Hitting the sand softly, he slides half the remaining distance to the center of the whirlpool before his body begins to sink down into the grains. Struggling to pull himself free only serves to hasten his descent, now seconds from plunging to certain death in the darkness awaiting him.

"Help!" He shouts, desperately clawing at the remorseless grains, shoving him toward his doom. The faint glow of the pink grains fades away as they fully integrate into the darker ones, and fighting against the darkness, the boy is sucked down into the hungry vortex. Breathless screams are choked back down as Rift is squeezed into his dark coffin. The intense pressure builds in his airtight space until it suddenly relents, gravity grabbing hold of his gut as he is sucked down into open air. Falling head over heels, the boy hits a soft pyramid of sand, tumbling down the side and landing upon a settled desert of glowing purple. Shaking his head, he sees his surroundings have changed, a thin stream of sand adding to the pile above him, pouring through a thin opening in the domelike roof upon an identical, though inverted, gazebo. The formerly dark, abysmal purple now glows brilliantly, illuminating the entire room with its dark hue. Confused for the moment, he decides he is lucky to simply be alive as he climbs back to his feet.

"You're okay!" Mai exclaims, taking form and hugging him as she kicks a single leg up behind her in a girly cliché of affection. "Don't scare me like that!" She declares, aggressively shoving the boy back to the ground as she takes in the surroundings. The pale, magenta architecture seems to come alive with the glowing sand, the room now captivatingly beautiful.

"Talking again are we?" Rift chuckles, slowly finding his feet and returning his hood over his brow.

"I get it," she smiles, ignoring the accusation completely. "It's an hourglass."

"An hourglass?" He asks, never considering the idea until now.

"Look! Over there," she points out, another small room housing a lever slowly being entombed with sand. "There's no time! Hurry!" Heeding her warning, Rift quickly dashes across the sloped sands, constantly being fed from the spout high above the room. Reaching the lever, he gives it a hard pull, the result being the very same loud click as before. Nearly trapped in the tiny room, the boy climbs through what is left of the opening, the sand gradually overtaking the lever, and the room as well. The steady trickle of sand begins to slow, the grains falling through in short bursts as the available sand in the top portion of the hourglass starts to run dry.

"This is bad isn't it?" Rift states more than asks, noting the distance between himself and the central gazebo on this side. He has only ever seen one hourglass in his life, but even so, when the top portion empties, there is only one thing to expect. With the last of the sand falling down, a temporary path is offered allowing access to the platform by climbing the massive dune burying the deeper depths of the chamber.

"We need to move. Now," Mai insists, urging the boy to make a run for it. Nimbly racing up the steep mountain of sand, Rift only slips once when the entire temple begins to shake. "Hurry!" Mai shouts, fanning the fire of motivation pushing the boy to his limits. His armor may amplify his physical ability, but climbing a hill of sand has rendered the artifacts useless, his feet plunging into the glowing purple with every step. The gravitational force of an entire temple turning upside down is absurdly powerful, throwing Rift flat on his face within arm's reach of his goal. Dragging himself onto the platform just in time, the avalanche of sand rains all around him, the deafening sound convincing the boy his shelter cannot possibly withstand the onslaught. Seconds later, the torrent subsides, and Rift is left lying on his back, staring up at what was once the ground.

"This is ridiculous," he decides, shaking his head and failing to summon the will to move just yet.

"Are you kidding me? That was awesome!" Mai excitedly retorts, eager to continue. Back on his feet, Rift finds a setting resembling the initial unveiling of the temple. The purple sand has turned dark once again, but now the southern wall glows brightly, pink sand erupting from the pair of faucets in their respective corners. Formerly submerged architecture now drains slowly, the buildings and walkways hemorrhaging sand now that gravity has returned to normal. Glancing about the new surroundings, the boy stifles a laugh, enjoying Mai's enthusiasm while he searches for the way forward. A suspicious area in the distance catches his attention, a strange arrangement of ruined architecture jutting out of the perimeter of the colossal hourglass. After lining up a portal and dropping out of the wall he gets a closer look, the random remains of what was once a tall building stretching high overhead. Sporadic bits of dark purple occasionally spill over edges, the recurring cycle of reversing gravity distributing sand anywhere and everywhere.

"There must be another one of those switches up there," Mai nods, taking form next to Rift to mimic his pondering stance and gestures.

"Cut it out," he chuckles, shoving her to the side playfully and stepping up to the challenge. Nowhere near the first of many platforms he will have to ascend, the boy finds a suitable spot for a portal, dropping through well short of his goal.

"Here!" Mai calls, her hand materializing just long enough to swing the boy onto the platform. The second he lands, the ancient rock gives way causing Rift to fall through the floor as the stones tumble downward. Landing upon a short, steep slope, he has only a second to line up his next portal higher up, falling backward through the stone slide as Mai calls out to him once again. Having to twist one hundred eighty degrees as he tumbles backward, he sees his next objective rising out of view as Mai's open palm eagerly awaits him. Grabbing her hand and swinging upward, the boy curses his luck as the floor rapidly breaks down the moment he lands, crumbling apart as he sprints across. The onslaught of snap decisions has his adrenaline pumping, each choice seeming to cause him an avalanche of new challenges. Taking to the air once again, Rift hangs on tight as Mai swings him in a half circle, launching him much higher as he aims his next portal from the temporary vantage point. Falling almost all the way back to the bottom, he cannot help but question whether the portal he left behind is in the right place. Constantly gaining speed he drops through the waiting window below, soaring out of the high end with ample momentum. Unexpectedly needing to twist his body to narrowly avoid a ruined archway, he flies all the way to the small room containing the next lever. Having to roll forward to break his fall, he arrives at his destination with a stumbling crash into the rear wall. "Way to think on your feet," Mai points out, thoroughly impressed. "Good job."

"Thank you, thank you," he gloats, marching over and cranking the lever all the way down. The spout of glowing, pink sand in a nearby corner of the massive area doubles its flow, the entire room much brighter now that the quantity of pink sand has all but matched that of the purple. Planting a portal on the ground far below, the boy drops back to the base of the structure in an instant, curiously inspecting the area, but finding no other switches. "It must be back in the first room," he admits, not looking forward to taking the plunge through the narrow again. Though he knows the drop will probably land him back on the other side safely, the boy still dreads the process. Glancing up at the roof of the gigantic room, Rift notices something he is certain was not there when he first arrived. A large, twisted cage of black bars seems to flicker in the newly created light, the oddly-shaped cell housing some indistinguishable object within. It is becoming obvious this temple requires many passes through the middle section in order to explore the buried and unearthed depths at the optimal times. After a few more seconds of calming breaths, the boy leaps downward, sliding rapidly into the swirling drain of glowing sand.

After falling out the other side, Rift hits the cone-shaped pillar of dry grains, tumbling off the side of the central gazebo just as he did the first time. Expecting to find a wealth of sandy dunes, ready and waiting to catch him, he soon realizes dropping through the middle before the majority of the sand had collected was a bad idea. Though nearly half of the sand has been deposited on this side, it remains a long fall to the primarily pink grains below. The dim glow of the purple sand has all but diminished causing the setting to be significantly darker until the hourglass can right itself once again. An instant before the notion is no longer feasible, Mai reaches out to the flailing boy. Tightly grabbing hold of her wrist, Rift swings through the faded grains of pink sand, now creating a waterfall from the central room. In a brief blast he plows through the thin veil concealing the room, landing harshly amongst the bouncing grains.

"Let's not do that again," the boy exhales, recovering from the brief injection of fear.

"Agreed. Still, if we're going to explore everywhere we need to find a safe way down," Mai adds, the room suspended from the ceiling offering no path in any direction. Back on his feet, Rift slowly turns in a circle only to realize the healthy flow of sand from above completely blocks his vision out of the room. Pouring down on all sides, the brightly glowing purple grains, all but diluted by the dead, pink ones, creates a persistent curtain cascading all the way down to the growing lake below. Pondering how he will even look for a way out, the boy suddenly remembers the hidden architecture of the Shadow Temple. With his knuckles pressed to the bridge of his nose, he gazes right through the veil of sand, studying the vast depths of the temple without hindrance. Finally spotting a distant wall appropriate for a portal, he drops through the floor and out of the wall a moment later. Still much higher than the large cone of sand, gradually rising higher into the room as it accumulates, Rift determines another portal is in order further below. Finally reaching the base of the growing pyramid, he is confused to find nothing of interest at the bottom. Stepping into the dim sand, he begins to trek up the growing mountain until a sudden landslide shoves him over aggressively, pushing him right back to where he started.

"Really?" He asks, releasing a sigh of frustration.

"That's not going to work. The sand hasn't had time to settle. It's too unstable to walk on," Mai points out, uncertain how to advance herself. Raising his right hand back to his eye, the boy spots the final lever room standing slightly higher than the sand has managed to reach. Held up by a single, massive pillar, the room rests exactly in the center of the rising sand, the dry waterfall concealing the room until now. Continuing to scour the area for clues, the obvious answer seems to leap out at him. A sporadic series of small platforms rest just beneath the unstable sands, each slightly higher than the preceding one and leading all the way up to the desired room. His path now clear, Rift lowers his hand to find he can clearly see the buried pillars now. Thinking back to his initial visit to this room, he recalls the forms hanging from the ceiling he couldn't quite make out. Their purpose now obvious, the boy cannot help but sigh at the prospect of such carefully planned puzzles. With no hesitation, he pounces onto the first pillar, carefully deciding which to jump to next. The weak current of tumbling sand traces around his ankles, the platform residing just close enough to the surface to prevent another landslide from carrying him away. The random arrangement of stepping stones offers several paths to the top, and the fact has the boy feeling suspicious right away.

"Hey, you want to test that one out?" He asks, pointing to the option on the left.

"For you? Anything," She sarcastically replies, bounding out of his form and landing upon the pillar safely. Following suit, the boy sees he has three options for his next jump, two rising to his left and one slightly lower to his right.

"Hmmm," he mumbles, beginning to think he is being overly cautious. "Try that one," he nods, pointing to his left. "Without the attitude this time," he adds with a smile.

"Sorry," she shrugs with a familiar arrogance, leaping to his pillar of choice. "The attitude comes wi-ahhh!" She squeals as the platform gives way. A sudden gush of sand throws her back toward the start as she vanishes from view.

"What was that? You trailed off there at the end," Rift snickers, pointing to the right this time.

"Yeah, keep laughing," she agitatedly smirks, hopping over to the next choice. "You wonder why I don't want to talk to you anymore," she mutters after landing safely this time around. "You've got a little too much attitude yourself these days."

"I wonder where it came from," he sarcastically retorts, following her each time she lands safely. Continuing the process, the duo slowly spiral around the massive dune, their banter passing the time more quickly as the rising mass of pink and purple begins to threaten the room housing the lever. Finally reaching their goal, Rift gives the handle a hearty tug and once more, the distant sound of a key turning within a lock echoes throughout the structure. Wasting no time, the boy exits the small room, lines up the portals that got him this far, and finally plants one on the ceiling of the central gazebo. The entire half of the hourglass he currently resides in has become all but pitch black, the glow of the purple sand drowned out completely by the lifeless pink. After a time, the top portion of the hourglass has nearly emptied, the barely perceptible landscape having risen all the way to the room where the duo currently bides their time.

"Alright, this is it," Mai starts, attempting to get her companion psyched up for the coming ordeal. "As soon as it starts to turn we've got to get to the bottom before the sand does."

"I know, I know," Rift nods, clearly nervous.

"We've got this," she concludes, watching the boy palm the wall beside one of the doorways in preparation. Right on cue, the final grains spill through the ceiling and the entire temple begins to shake. Struggling to retain his balance, Rift continues to eye a particular spot on the ceiling he found earlier, watching and waiting for the optimal moment. Gravity starts to pull him back into the gazebo as he shouts his command.

"Now!" He cries, dropping through the floor though the temple has only turned halfway over. Falling out of the ceiling, he begins to descend back downward but the spinning room alters his trajectory. Flying toward his goal on an arcing path, the room completes its rotation, and the sand is coming down with deadly weight and speed. A terrifying sound of descending death closes in much more quickly than the boy would prefer as he reaches his destination. Moments away from soaring completely over the funnel with excessive momentum, Mai appears ahead of him on the ground. Springing into the air gracefully, she opens her arms as the boy collides with her. Locking in an embrace, she alters his course enough to allow them both to fall directly through the narrow passage nestled between the four pillars holding up the central gazebo. The absurd amount of sand lands harshly in their wake, and the goddess vanishes while Rift falls into the mammoth, dark room. With no time to waste, he presses his right hand to his eye, searching for anything to slow his descent. Several places within the room stand out in the darkness, and without a second thought, the boy places a portal on a distant wall. The flat base of the gazebo is perfect for the dimensional window and with far more momentum than he is comfortable with, Rift soars out of the wall further below. The dry air whips against his face as he peers through the dark room in search of another flat surface. It quickly becomes obvious he will land upon a long section of stone jutting out of the wall at breakneck speeds in seconds. A pillar far below is the obvious choice as he narrowly lines up the portal in time. Flying through the stone and out of the pillar's flat peak at eye watering speed, the boy finds himself ascending toward a flat surface beneath some sort of architecture above him. His only remaining option appears to be the very base of the entire temple far below, and without time to weigh his options, he commands Mai to place his new destination there. Quickly losing momentum, Rift isn't sure if he will even reach the portal above, but soon enough he drifts through, rising out of the ground floor of the temple harmlessly. Flailing his body, he realizes he is about to drop right back through the portal that brought him here, but the instant before he lands, the blue doorway fades away.

"Adding that to the list of things I'd rather not do again," he nervously laughs after recovering from his clumsy fall and getting his hastened breathing under control.

"I thought you might. We made it, though," Mai shrugs, not caring for the utter darkness they find themselves in. Walking aimlessly through the indiscernible area, Rift pauses when he hears the distinct sound of falling sand to his left. Tracking the sound to its source, he passes through the circular veil of dark grains, nearly tripping over the chest residing in the middle.

"Finally, we found it," he breathes with a smile. Throwing the chest open, the boy is confused as he paws at the dark interior. Sliding his hands back and forth along the base, he finds nothing but seasoned wood containing no treasure. "What? How?" He stammers as confusion and frustration suddenly overwhelm him. Without warning the dead grains of sand pouring all around him glow brighter than ever before. The mixture of pink and purple creates a potent magenta hue, illuminating the entire area. After lowering a shielding arm from his eyes, Rift can clearly see the chest is empty, his long quest and hard fought battles gaining him nothing in the end. Passing through the curtain of glowing sand, the boy finds a massive cage preventing him from leaving the area. The twisted black bars gradually spiral into a warped cube with no exit.

"It's the light," Mai points out, having figured out the riddle long beforehand.

"What? What are you talking about?" Rift insists, overwhelmed with confusion. "What's going on?"

"The cage only exists when it's in the light," she explains as an odd sort of pleasure creeps into her voice.

"It was a trap!" The boy suddenly declares, the ingenious ploy causing him to unwittingly place himself in the deathtrap. The sand continues to build up, and it becomes obvious he will be buried alive in a very short period of time. "What do I do?" He shouts, not understanding why Mai isn't helping him.

"It only exists in the light. Just like them," she reveals, prompting Rift to look beyond his new prison to the army awaiting his attempt to escape. Arranged in a disturbing array, dozens of iron knuckles stand guard, waiting for any sign of the boy cheating death in the carefully constructed trap. "The chest wasn't empty," Mai adds, finally appearing next to her ally.

"What? What do you mean?" He shouts, not upset with her as much as his situation.

"Look," she smiles, pointing at an inconspicuous bar on the twisted cage. Merely glancing at the bar, the boy fails to understand what she is getting at, but taking a closer look, he finds he can see his reflection in the otherworldly material. His black hair has turned so white it now appears to glow. Tribal markings have appeared on his face, a triangular blue symbol pointing down on his forehead as well as sharp, spiderlike lines tracing across his cheeks and around his eyes in vivid red. His pupils have vanished completely giving him the appearance of some sort of demon. "What," he starts, backing away from the image. "What's happening to me?"

"The final piece isn't a piece of armor at all," Mai explains, speaking calmly and clearly while keeping her distance. "It is my very essence, and with it, we are able to become one."

"Become one?" He asks, his worried expression failing to translate through his new appearance.

"Together we can wield the power of a God to destroy our enemies. Come to me, Rift," she declares, opening her arms but remaining where she stands. Unsure exactly what it is she is offering, the boy simply stands and stares at his gorgeous goddess. The amount of sand begins to multiply exponentially as it spills over his feet, and begins to rise toward his knees. He cannot possibly know the grander schemes at play in the colossal game of control the goddesses are engaged in. He will probably never understand what it means to belong to a cause greater than himself. The one thing he knows for certain is that Mai is there for him. She has never let him down. She has never steered him wrong. As he subconsciously drifts closer to her warmth, he realizes he trusts her completely. Whatever happens from here, they will be together.

After her arms wrapped around him, Rift's perception blurred significantly. A refreshing sort of fiery breeze rushed through his veins, leaving him in a state of utter bliss. He only saw brief glimpses of exploding dunes of sand, and metal breaking beneath his fist. Rushes of air and dismantled pieces of metal flash through his mind in rapid, confusing instants. His thoughts ceased to be his own, merging with the unfathomable wonderings of a deity too abruptly for his feeble intellect to understand. The entire process could have lasted seconds or hours, but all too soon, the sensation ends as Mai releases him from his temporary captivity within herself. The army of iron knuckles will lay around them, most of them thrashed to pieces. She will explain how he was inside of her, and her inside of him simultaneously. She will assure him it is okay if her thoughts overwhelmed his own. She will hold him in her arms like a long lost mother, speaking softly while staring into his absent eyes. Finally, she will softly hum the melody of the reeds in Hyrule Field. A final attempt to gently place Rift in a nostalgic state of comfort until he returns to her. All of it will prove excessive and meaningless. As the boy slowly returns to his standard state of mind, he will know only one want. One need. One love. To be one with her once again.
Forgotten Goddess

The setting sun casts a bizarre hue across Hyrule Field, the aura of the Twilight Realm acting as a twisting lens of darkness for the rays to emanate through. The last of the day's light rotates and twinkles through the shifting essence radiating from the desert causing a panicked atmosphere across the land. A sense of overwhelming urgency highlighting the critical nature of unfolding events. The dark, dancing colors leap and flow throughout Link's peripheral vision as the castle walls come into view. Navi's insistence to act less hastily falls upon deaf ears as the hero rushes forward, throwing all other matters to the wind. For all his heroics, the town surrounding the castle has been reduced to such a state once again. Leaping across the moat, Epona pays little attention to the destruction passing by in a blur on either side of her, only focusing on the destination. The destroyed fountain at the center of town catches Link's eye as he guides his horse around it, the carefully carved stone fittingly destroyed as the hero has failed to protect the people. Garo continues to haunt his subconscious, the tale of trials and failure having struck a chord with the hero in some long ignored corner of his mind. His senses suddenly sharpening, Link realizes the ambush before it ever actually begins.

An arrow screams past his head, fired from some shadowy enclosure amongst the trampled buildings lining the main street. Steering Epona on a more elusive course, the hero continues to charge into what is quickly becoming a downpour of feathered, wooden projectiles. Several Gerudo spring into the street ahead in a foolish attempt to cut off Link's direct route toward the castle. Knowing his trusty steed could vault over women twice their height, the hero feels the faintest twinge of alarm when Epona abruptly missteps before continuing her gallop. A quick glance backward reveals what he had feared. She's been hit. A deeply embedded arrow wobbles back and forth as she runs, firmly establishing its place within her thigh. Dozens of the shady assassins appear from every shadow and crevice overhead, each meticulously lining up an arrow with the fearless hero. Quickly snatching his shield from his back, Link deflects several more arrows as he is nearly out of harm's way. Another misstep. Far more severe than the last as Epona is struggling to keep up the pace. Unable to bat away so many arrows fired at once, Link jerks on the reigns to duck down a side alley. Stubbornly, the horse charges forward despite her master's commands, lowering her head as two more arrows strike her neck and side. The sword-wielding women guarding the path show no signs of backing down, aggressively advancing forward as the horse bears down on them. Not expecting the sudden jolt of speed, one unfortunate Gerudo is trampled as Epona charges right through her before her blade is ever swung. Several more futile shots are fired, landing well short of their goal as the hero advances up the path to the castle. Safe from the onslaught for the time being, Link convinces his horse to slow her pace as he guides her to a serene place just outside the castle gate.

"Is she alright? This doesn't look good," Navi murmurs, studying the damage but keeping her distance.

Immediately leaping from the saddle, Link grabs hold of the arrow embedded in his companions neck, praying he can remove it without causing any more damage. Fortunately, the stray shot hit nothing vital, piercing the muscle at an angle. Gently petting the weakening animal's head, Link shoves the arrow through so the flared tip emerges on the other side. In seconds he breaks the arrow in half and removes it entirely, applying pressure to the wound as Epona falls to her knees in pain. Assessing the remaining wounds inflicted, the hero finally begins to understand the severity of the situation. Straining to climb back to her feet, the horse neighs loudly before falling to the ground, clearly in more pain now that the adrenaline has worn off. Agitated by her body refusing to do as it's told, she continues to swing her head to and fro until Link grabs hold of her neck, hugging her tightly. The arrows are deep. Too deep to be removed safely. The arrow to her thigh is no cause for concern, but the two piercing her ribcage are draining the animal's strength rapidly. As her breathing begins to shallow, Link gently hums her song as he rocks her in his arms. The melody Malon taught him so many years ago when he first visited Lon Lon Ranch. The song that brought them together. Though it sounds like a fond farewell at first, his tone drifts away from him as thoughts of vengeance pull his mind from the task at hand.

"Link?" Navi calls, growing even more concerned about her companion's state of mind. "We can't stay here." Failing to hear her at all, the hero continues to rock slowly with his horse's head dangling lifelessly in his arms. Watching with delight, his shadow bides its time as Epona slowly fades away. A pair of faintly glowing red eyes go unnoticed within the dark projection cast against a nearby wall, and in a display of unrivaled patience, they quickly fade away when Link eventually climbs to his feet.

"Link? Listen, we—" Navy starts, unable to find the words when her companion's expression becomes that of a stranger. A consistent breeze flows through the mountainous valley path leading to the castle, the setting sun casting the last of its augmented rays while the moon comes into view. Absently grabbing hold of the vines behind him with no particular sense of urgency, Link climbs to the top of the valley, briskly walking the short distance to the castle gate. Predictably, sentries posted at the massive gateway stand guard, as well as several patrolling the castle grounds. Instantly noting the appropriate moment to slip by unnoticed, the hero is instead compelled to walk right up behind the guard, grabbing hold of her spear and disarming her with an effortless chop to the wrist. Before she is able to utter a squeak of alarm, Link rams the blunt end of the spear into her stomach, dropping the foreign weapon and finishing her off with a vicious strike to the neck. His stalwart principles of honor left in the dirt next to his horse, the hero continues forward fearlessly. The next sentry spots him during his approach, immediately shouting for her allies to join in the fight. A tactless chop with her broadsword is sidestepped as Link kicks her lead leg out from beneath her before dropping a back-fisted attack to her torso. Sent flailing a significant distance away, the woman struggles to breathe from the devastating attack, amplified by his gauntlets power. Marching directly toward the castle doors, the hero makes no concessions for the approaching army of Gerudo, his antics that of a man possessed.

Just past the main foyer and up the mighty staircase, Ganondorf rests comfortably upon the throne, sampling the castles best wine while he waits. Din's presence subdued for the time being, he simply revels in his successful occupation of the castle once again. At the base of the short stairs leading up to the throne, a pair of former princesses lie wrapped in a spider web of dark chains conjured by the warlock. While Midna has long since ceased her futile struggle, Zelda continues to fight the restraints feverishly, though she has made no perceptible progress toward her freedom. Endlessly entertained by her struggle, Ganondorf sips his wine once again, waiting for the inevitable battle to ensue. Without warning, the colossal doors of the throne room whip open, one of them unhinging at the top as they smash into the ancient stone. Shield in hand, Link marches forward, his drive and purpose like nothing anyone in the room has ever seen. The three before him stare, all of them equally shocked by the dark blood staining his clothing and dripping down the face of his shield. Not inspired to say anything just yet, the Gerudo king gestures for an unknown presence to make its appearance.

Stepping out from behind the throne, a pair of Gerudo women round their leader as well as the two rulers of their respective realms. Clearly intended to complement each other's styles, one of the women dons a black robe while the other is clad in white. Their ensembles are identical aside from color, and the style is that of distant, eastern regions. Reaching for their weapons simultaneously it becomes clear the dark lord facilitated this battle purely for sport, and the reaction it would generate. Arranged on their backs in a very familiar fashion, the women produce a strait sword and circular shield, the likes of which Link has never seen. Finding no amusement in the spectacle, the Hylian doesn't so much as blink, maintaining his steady stride toward the throne as the women commence their attack. Remaining light on their feet, the pair encircle the hero, keeping their shields level with their shoulders while their sword hand bounces at their sides. Mimicking Link's signature style as best they can, they dash inward, one of them slicing high while the other swings low. Ducking and turning in a sudden motion, Link blocks the low strike with his forearm while the dark warrior's cuts overhead. In a devastating instant, he grabs the sword hand of the light warrior, jerking her forward before releasing his grip and striking her ribcage. As she reels from the blow, the hero spins to narrowly dodge the sudden thrust from the dark combatant, landing an open palmed strike to her stomach. Doubling over with pain, she is unable to stop her shield from being stripped away, and thrown across the room by Link's intensifying rage. A desperate backslash skips off a golden gauntlet as the hero briefly releases his shield to catch the sides in each hand. Swung like a chair in a bar brawl, the shield thuds against the Gerudo's head, her unconscious form tumbling to a stop against the distant wall. Rejoining the fight with a hearty war-cry, the white antagonist leaps at Link's back, chopping downward as he suddenly steps out of harm's way. Expecting him to dodge, the woman twists into the maneuver she's practiced a thousand times. Dipping back a step, the hero waits for the impressive spin-slash to subside before dashing back at the imposter. A spinning back-fist with his shield arm lands solidly upon the Gerudo's spine as she completes the technique. Sent skipping to the room's perimeter, the copycat's sword is inadvertently thrown at the moment of impact. Catching the blade handle in reverse, Link's eyes fixate upon Ganondorf, the moment seeming to freeze everything in place as the potential outcomes are stamped into eternity. A deep breath does nothing to calm his nerves, for this time around, there is no amount of violence he won't commit to be certain the pig-demon is gone forever.

"Link," Navi attempts to interject before the fighting resumes. "You've got to calm down. Don't let him get in your head. You're better than—"

"Mmm hahaha," the warlock chuckles as he takes one final sip of wine, gently placing the glass upon the arm of the throne. Wasting no time, the hero has already begun to charge, his blade glancing the edge of his shield as he breaks into a sprint. Feeling no cause for concern, Ganondorf slowly rises to his feet, cracking his knuckles while tilting his neck to loosen up. With Link almost upon him, he decides to get things started with a sweeping gesture of his arm. A half dozen chains spring from the ground, wrapping around the Hylian as he charges into the trap. A war-cry bordering on insanity erupts from the hero's mouth as he executes a viciously efficient spin-slash, immediately leaping into a vertical somersaulting slash. The chains snap apart like interlinked paper clips, the dark lord's initial offensive hardly slowing his opponent down. Finally deciding to get his hands dirty, the Gerudo leaps strait up into the air, summoning a glyph at his feet to launch himself over his antagonist. Spinning on his heels, Link rushes at his insufferable foe, intending to intercept him before he lands, but a growing purple light from Ganondorf's palm convinces him to slow down. Landing with destructive force, the warlock bashes his glowing fist on the ground, a shockwave of displaced stone rocking the entire room. The very slate beneath the Hylian's feet jumps upward, throwing him into the air as he twists, attempting to get his bearings. His eyes find the Gerudo the moment he launches his next attack, a focused bolt of dark lightning fired from his palms.

Well timed as the attack is, Link manages to lift his shield at the moment of impact, though the brute force swats him out of the air like a bug. Launched at the throne, the hero realizes he'll be an easy target the moment he lands. Twisting in an inverted slash, the Hylian chops the entire throne in half horizontally, flipping to his feet in a crouched position as the expected blast of lightning zaps overhead with an energetic crackle. Certain he had the swordsman's number, Ganondorf charges another electric surge between his palms, throwing the dark storm surge at the pesky hero's hiding place. Blasted to pieces, the throne's shrapnel flies dangerously close to the pair of shackled women, each of them shielding themselves as Link agilely strafes the attack. On the offensive once again, the Hylian rushes forward, leaping into the air when the next blast of lightning tears across the room. Unable to charge another attack in time, the Gerudo must become elusive himself to dodge the descending jump-attack. His blade skipping off the uneven ground with a clang, the hero begins to pick his opponent apart, carefully analyzing his reactions and timing. Ignoring his short swords in lieu of magic-based attacks quickly becomes the dark lord's lament as Link refuses to allow him a moment to summon his power.

Ducking beneath a backslash, the Gerudo conjures another mystical platform beneath himself, blasting into the air as he prepares another assault. Orb after orb of dark energy swells just above his open palm before they are thrown downward, causing widespread destruction below. Scrambling to avoid the onslaught of projectiles, Link suddenly remembers his nemesis using a similar tactic in the past. Beginning to descend back to the ground, one of Ganondorf's orbs suddenly rockets back at him, batted back at the warlock like a fastball. Another glyph is conjured as the dark lord dashes to the side in mid-air, the orb exploding in a shower of debris as it meets a distant pillar. Deciding to cease his rapid attacks, the Gerudo instead ops for more power, taking his time in summoning a much larger orb. Back on the ground, he steadies his upturned palm by tightly gripping his wrist, the growing, pulsating orb quickly becoming a dangerous weapon. Closing the distance hurriedly, Link's sword finds nothing but air as the warlock launches himself skyward once again. Remaining out of the hero's reach, Ganondorf leaps from one conjured platform to the next, finally throwing the deadly ball downward with a grunt. Repeating his rediscovered strategy, Link hits the fast-approaching sphere with the flat side of his blade, slapping the quivering orb back into the air. Eager to explode, the ball is denied its chance when the warlock hammers it strait downward. Not expecting the cunning tactic, the hero fails to react in time as the orb hits the ground before he can close the distance. The explosion rocks the entire room, the Hylian thrown into a distant pillar as the chandeliers overhead shake and swing. Shaking off the pain, Link climbs to his feet to find the dark lord back on the ground, already summoning another one.

Waiting until the last possible moment, Ganondorf rises high overhead once again, laughing and dashing through the air as he searches for the optimum moment to attack again. Ready and waiting this time around, the hero aims to make certain this attack backfires. Soaring downward, the sphere is much larger than before, arcs of bright electricity dancing along the surface as the Hylian sends it back upward. Repeating the same process, the warlock knocks it back down with a heavy hand, but Link's quick response allows him to dash beneath it, batting it back up with fury. Enjoying the game, Ganondorf dashes away from the approaching orb, flying back at it once again to flip into an inverted kick, launching the ball directly at the imprisoned women. Roaring with exertion, the hero dives between the coming sphere of destruction and the restrained duo, rolling to his feet and spinning around just in time to knock the ball of energy away. Well out of position for the first time, the warlock must quickly move from glyph to glyph backhanding the orb back downward at the last possible moment. Already charging back toward the center of the room, Link sends it back upward with ease, watching his antagonist now struggling to keep up. One dash away from intercepting the rising sphere, Ganondorf decides it is too close for comfort, immediately dashing away as it collides with the gargantuan chandelier. The explosion tears the decorative display of metal out of the ceiling, and with no time to react, the Gerudo is tackled out of the air by the fast-falling spectacle.

Slowly returning to his senses, the dark lord angrily throws the mangled mass of gold and candles off of himself, utterly ignorant to the coming strike. Able to catch the blade just before it impales his face, Ganondorf growls with rage as Link continues to press the thrust forward. Slipping in his grasp, the sharp metal eats into his gauntlets as the tip jumps even closer to his angry grimace. His blood spilling down his arms, the Gerudo feels the familiar call of his goddess, beckoning him to her arms before it is too late. Watching with disgust, the Hylian sees the distortion crawl onto his opponent's face, twisting and spreading like a rapid cancer. His irises fade as his brow deepens, his large nose shortening and turning upright while his jaw becomes more defined, producing primal fangs. The visage seems to be worn like a mutated mask, not fusing with his actual features, but overtaking them just the same. An aura of red engulfs the man as his already intimidating stature begins to grow. Now attempting to retrieve his blade, Link is lifted off the ground as the monstrous Ganon rises to his feet with the hero's blade still tightly gripped in his hand. Now dangling helplessly, the Hylian's repressed anger resurfaces as the demon lifts his arm, and Din steps into view at his side. Pressing herself against him, the goddess makes her affection well known, glaring at Link briefly before shifting her gaze to her chosen's empty hand. A sudden whirlwind of ethereal fire encompasses Ganon's palm, reaching out in a tornado of translucent flame. As it subsides, a gargantuan blade of the darkest crimson hangs heavily in the monster's grasp. With a smile of satisfaction, Din glances up at her chosen's face, then steps out of view once again. Still refusing to release his sword, Link lifts his shield as the inevitable attack commences.

"Link!" Navi screams, appearing between her chosen and the coming blade. "No!" A primal roar sounds as Ganon releases the hero's puny sword while swinging his own. Bracing for impact, the Hylian is confused by the lack of force from the blow, though he is sent flying all the way to the throne room's entrance at high speed. Failing to feel the impact of the wall he collides with, the hero is unsure if he is mortally wounded or unscathed. Climbing out of the ample amounts of created rubble, Link sees the spherical shield around him dissipate, the green hue rapidly turning transparent as Farore comes into view. Walking over to her with a knowing expression, she doesn't need to tell him any more than he needs to hear the words. "It's time. Let's finish this." Raising her palms, the goddess lifts both Link's sword and shield from his grasp, imbuing them with her power. As they are returned to his hands, he begins to emanate with the same green aura she placed upon them. Ridiculously lighter in weight, the steel tools infuse the Hylian with the confidence to destroy any evil. As Ganon marches into the center of the room behind her, Farore drifts forward, wrapping her arms around her chosen in a loving embrace. Relaxing for only an instant, Link realizes what she is attempting to do, and it is working. His rage is subsiding, however slowly, and now his heightened focus will carry him to victory. A deep roar sounds from the center of the room as the hero's goddess fades away. An approaching wave of flame is easily sidestepped as Link charges back into the fray. Two more successive lines of fire erupt from the demon's vicious sword swings, but to no avail as the Hylian has closed the distance.

A heavy, overhanded chop bounces off Link's glowing shield as a much larger, shell-like defense appears at the moment of contact. The added protection will give him a chance, but the overwhelming power of the strike still forced him back a step as his wayward swing falls short of its goal. To both combatants surprise, the glowing sword throws a magical, blade-shaped beam forward, slicing past the overpowered demon as he narrowly dodges in time. Surprisingly nimble for such a large opponent, the demon shuffles his leg out of the way while bringing his large blade down upon the Hylian. Raising his shield, the hero is reassured when his large orb of protection absorbs the blow, and with his newly infused power, the path to victory seems all but certain. Quickly growing angry, Ganon wills his rectangular blade to become engulfed in blazing flame, and with the added power, suddenly slices through the protective orb. Rolling out of the way, Link remains unscathed, rapidly slashing at his distant opponent. Charging in a mad rush, the monster attempts to match the oncoming projectiles with powerful swings of his own, the projected beams of fire colliding with the approaching energy blades. Nearly upon the Hylian, Ganon howls with pain as his swings are unable to match the rapid pace of his antagonist, and one of the magic blades eats into his shoulder, sizzling with energy.

His rage steadily increasing as the tides have turned against him once again, the demon commences a non-stop attack, consistently whipping his sword at varying angles as waves of liquid fire spring from the weapon in precise beams. Slapping along the ground like whips of magma, the flames eat into the pillars and walls of the massive room before fizzling out. Forced to remain on the defensive, Link deflects the flames when he cannot evade them, searching for a way to close the distance. A strafing chop launches a beam of light at his opponent, but ends in failure as the fire rips through it long before it even gets close. Out of options, he decides the simplest course is his best chance for a successful attack. With a rolling shout of his own, the Hylian hurtles directly at Ganon, the relentless waves of flame slowing him down significantly, but not stopping him. Almost close enough to strike, the demon leaps at him preemptively, stabbing his blade deeply into the stone floor as the hero dives forward. Rolling to a knee, Link tumbles off-balance as he slices backward, the resulting bladed projectile finding Ganon's Achilles tendon. The demon swings his sword blindly, turning to find nothing where the hero stood a moment ago. When another energy beam chops across his back, the Gerudo has finally had enough.

A broad, horizontal swing produces a wave of flame, and Link has no choice but to block. Lowering his shield reveals the unexpected, Ganon's massive hand closing around his throat as the circular glyph in his wake fades away. The breath stolen from his lungs, the hero jabs his blade into the demon's wrist moments before he can complete his decapitating swing. Dropping back to his feet, Link stumbles away as the Gerudo twists into another devastating swing, his sword no longer producing the energy projectiles he has come to rely on. His protective shield falters as he is forced to a knee by the strike, the demon leaping into a finishing maneuver as his prey hesitates beneath him. A sudden dive-roll forward eludes the earth-shattering blow, and growing exhausted, Link opts for the unorthodox, leaping onto Ganon's back. A savage series of stabs causes the Gerudo to recoil, bellowing excruciating shouts before skillfully twirling his massive sword overhead, batting the Hylian off of his form with the flat side of his weapon.

Briefly shaken by the unexpected counter-attack, Link finds his feet as the demon painfully rolls his shoulders, glaring at him with a livid expression. Expecting him to charge, the Hylian lifts his shield as Ganon stabs his sword into the ground and crouches in an aggressive manner. Baffled by the demon's decision to remain where he stands, the hero realizes his intentions far too late. Slowly raising his upturned palms, the beast grins crazily as his blood slowly rises up from the floor and into the air. Even the liquid pouring from his wounds begins to ignore gravity, swirling around his form in droplets and long streams. Finally lifting a single hand, the monster begins to laugh in its gravelly, distorted tone as Link prepares to block the coming attack. Bolting across the room at imperceptible speeds, the floating globs of crimson liquid stretch into unstoppable blades, smashing through the hero's magical defense as if it were made of glass. Landing squarely on his shield, one of the bloody blades throws him off his feet, the spot where it landed permanently marring the slab of steel with a deep indentation. Quickly burning through his glove, Link is forced to drop his shield, the attack deforming the metal to the point of uselessness. Only just realizing his approach, the hero sees no way out this time around, Ganon's blade already hanging over his shoulder, ready to come down with a vengeance. In this critical moment, the beast hears the distinct sound of a chain snapping apart somewhere behind him.

Glowing brilliantly blue with Nayru at her side, Zelda has finally broken free, her light arrow already fixed on its target. A quiver of unimaginable irritation quakes Ganon's very bones as he turns to deal with the new threat. The arrow screams across the room, a trail of vibrant light radiating in its wake as it reaches for the demon's soul. With an effortless swing of his mighty blade, the monster slaps the arrow aside, sending it into a distant wall as a portal to the Sacred Realm is opened. Sighing for an extended moment, the queen hesitates before she summons another arrow and fires. Again, the beam of purifying light is batted aside, another portal of darkness opening near the ceiling and aggressively pulling against the Gerudo king's form. Channeling her power into her chosen, Nayru gives Zelda a potent charge of energy before vanishing, both the goddess and the queen merely attempting to slow the beast down. Three more successive shots are knocked away before Ganon reaches the pest that escaped his imprisonment. With a furious swing, he intends to obliterate the woman, but it stops short as Zelda invokes a much more potent shield than Link possesses. Caring little for the extent of her defense, the demon continues to beat upon her shell, the honeycomb texture of the blue defense slowly but surely beginning to relent. As her energy begins to fade, the queen is forced to a knee, the blue force field gradually cracking at the point of so many successive impacts. Seeing the look in her eyes, Link feels as if he can read the single word on her lips as he gathers what strength he has, and races through the room.

"Rift," Zelda pleads, looking right past her charging hero to the figure standing in the doorway. Zig-zagging up the massive door frame agilely with a series of wall vaults, the figure kicks off the peak of the archway to descend back to the floor with exceptionally more momentum.

"Now," a boy's voice calls, the word echoing through the room as Ganon prepares to smash his way through the queen's defenses at long last. Dropping from the ceiling like a lightning bolt, Rift smashes his forearm against the back of the demon's neck, perceptively jarring the monster for a brief moment. Far beyond any previously visited level of anger or rage, Ganon slowly turns, his entire body shaking as he flips the handle of his blade around within his grasp. Stopping in his tracks, Link is stunned by the unexpected turn of events, the damnable boy actually coming to Zelda's aid. The final portal to the Sacred Realm slowly closes, and for the briefest moment, the room falls silent. His hand drifting up the small of his back, Link catches on to the plot quickly, dashing to the room's perimeter. Staring up at him curiously, the boy doesn't move a muscle as the beast lifts his sword overhead and stabs down at the foolish child.

"Noooooo!" Din shrieks, suddenly appearing before her chosen and reaching out helplessly.

"Now!" Rift commands, dropping through the ground at the last possible moment. Ganon's blade chases the boy through the portal, failing to connect as the boy glances back at him with a smirk. Having already thrown a flat slab of stone across the room, Link watches and waits as it soars at the monstrous foe's back, Rift dropping out just before it reaches him. The demon's sword stabs through the open portal, slicing through his waist before the stone smashes against the wall, crumbling to pieces. Utterly ignorant as to what just occurred, Ganon lifts what is left of his blade, only to find himself unable to support his own weight any longer. Giving her chosen one final glance of agitation and pity, the goddess of Power turns her back to him before vanishing herself within a rush of wind and flame. Shrinking back to his original stature while his pig-like features fade away, the Gerudo continues to look about the room, failing to understand what went wrong. With one last choking gasp, he doubles over, then loses his balance completely, falling to his knees and toppling onto his back simultaneously. A wave of silence spills over the room, and though no one present respected the man, they all realize the importance of his death.

"Who's next?" Rift seems to mumble to himself, unintentionally speaking too loudly. "Okay," he agrees, confusing the three people he still shares the room with. Marching toward Zelda with emotionless eyes, the boy clearly has no intention of helping her to her feet.

"Ahhhh!" Link roars, thoroughly tired of the boy's ceaseless attempts on both his, and Zelda's lives. The descending chop is slapped aside as Rift turns to engage. A rapid flurry of blade strokes are parried before the boy lands a stepping kick to the hero's torso. Thrown back a step, Link is confused by Rift's sudden explosion of confidence, marching toward him with glowing eyes beneath his signature hood. Having lost Farore's enchanted techniques, and his trusty shield, the hero is rapidly succumbing to frustration and anger once again. Twisting into his signature attack, Link spins aggressively, but even so, Rift doesn't break his stride. Lifting a single clenched fist up near his face, the boy allows the blade to break apart piece by piece as the hero continues to spin, each rotation causing another section of the sword to shatter against the dark gauntlet. Completing the maneuver, Link throws the useless remains of the blade aside, ducking past Rift's right cross to land an uppercut to the boy's stomach. A twitch of irritation clouds Rift's expression for only a moment before he initiates a rapid combination, landing several successive kicks. Spotting his moment to counter, Link is denied the chance when Mai appears, dashing out of Rift's form and rocking his head to the side with a left hook. The onslaught becomes endless, every instant the boy isn't attacking becoming Mai's window of opportunity. Reeling from the endless blows, the hero is finally knocked off his feet by a devastating cross kick.

Returning his sights to Zelda, the boy dashes over to her in sudden blurs, her weakened state not allowing her to fight back, though she doesn't think she would hurt the boy if she could. Nayru has made her choices clear, and the queen has chosen the path of peace over the path of strife. Standing tall, and with dignity, she has no intention of running or resisting. As Rift debates the fastest way to put her down, Zelda finally has her chance to attempt to reach him.

"What are you doing, Rift?" She asks, shaking her head disgustedly.

"Saving the realm," he declares, continuing toward her.

"Saving it from what?" She shrugs, trying to understand what lies he has been told.

"From you," he concludes, reaching out and seizing her by the shoulder.

"She'll kill everyone. You must know that, right?" She points out, staring him in the eyes as he hesitates. "She twists the truth to confuse you. The goddesses could never trust her. She didn't hide her armor in all those temples, they were hidden from her. She wants to end all suffering by ending all life. To her, ending the realm and saving it are the same thing."

"You're wrong," Mai whispers, far from threatened by Zelda's influence on her chosen.

"You're wrong," Rift repeats, too far gone to be reached any longer.

"Why don't you ask her?" Zelda insists, noting that Link is back on his feet.

"I don't have to," the boy points out, recalling the state of bliss he entered upon fusing with the goddess. He now knows such a degree of happiness is only obtainable through Mai. He won't settle for anything less anymore. "This is what we want," he reveals, cocking his fist back.

"Release her!" A long silent voice bellows from the boy's left. Shifting his gaze over the boy finds Midna scowling down the length of a conjured arrow of shadow, radiating darkness all around her. More of his own accord than because of her order, Rift releases Zelda and begins to walk toward the queen of Twilight.

"Wait! Everyone hold on a second," Zelda insists as events continue to escalate. Stealthily moving closer, Link searches for the ideal time to strike, inadvertently kicking a noisy piece of stone. Turning to catch the hero approaching, Rift's curiosity and peripheral vision betray him as he catches a glimpse of his right palm, the incorrigible desire to gaze into the void overtaking his reason. Lifting his hand, he stares deeply into the swirling glow as the indecipherable voices begin to speak to him. Stars and spirits weave outward, entangling his eyes in a hopeless embrace. "Rift! Stop!" Zelda suddenly screams, utilizing the last of her strength to summon one final light arrow. "Please listen to me! The void is consuming you!" She adds, lining up the shot, though she doesn't want to fire. Far beyond the reach of words or distractions, the boy stands still as a statue, looking beyond his hand, the room, and the entire realm. The queen can't help but assume that at this point, there is little of him left, and with no alternative, Zelda releases the purifying projectile to banish Mai's vessel. Realizing the trap being lain far too late to voice a warning, Link's eyes double in size as the brilliant ruse comes to fruition. Unsure what the boy's motives are, or what Zelda is shouting about, Midna decides enough is enough.

"Be gone," the queen of Twilight breathes, launching her dark arrow at the boy. Dropping to his knees in horror, the hero watches the contrasting attacks cross in a narrow X, Mai appearing and shoving her chosen out of harm's way the instant before they would have exiled him. The arrows strike the walls nearly simultaneously, and two portals to the Sacred Realm are opened. The vacuum of light is too much for Midna to resist, while the dark portal immediately lays claim to Zelda. Sucked out of the room instantly, like helpless fish tumbling over a waterfall, each of the woman utter a brief squeal of shock before the portals slowly close. Left alone at the room's center, Link quakes with emotion. He has lost everything. He had a chance to be the hero, but just as Garo warned, he failed. The master sword remains incomplete, and it is no one's fault but his own. Needing a moment to wrap his mind around everything that has happened, he is denied the opportunity when he hears a ruffle of clothing descending from above.

In an impressive display of power, Rift smashes the spot where the hero rested an instant before. Rolling to his feet, Link unexpectedly dives at the boy, taking him by surprise. An onslaught of haymaker punches has Rift backpedaling, each strike knocking his guard aside. Leaping backward to recover, the boy must rapidly dash away as a surge of arrows screams past him before Link throws the useless weapon to the ground. Everything he cares for has been taken, and now the hero's kill switch has engaged. Unable to get a moment's rest, Rift attempts to counter another mighty punch, but Link's newfound fortitude doesn't even register the heavy blow to his ribcage. Several successive hooks to the body feel like torrential cannon fire, each blow forcing the air from the boy's lungs. Finishing the combination with a terrible scream, Link bashes the boy's chest with a double fisted attack, bouncing him off the ground and sending him soaring the remaining distance into the wall with a heavy crunch. Nearly losing consciousness from the assault, Rift regains his senses in time to see the massive chunk of stone the hero has just launched at him. Five times his size, the fragment of the room's foundation tumbles in slow motion as it flies across the room at terrifying speeds. Unable to move, he glances toward the ruined throne and finds a flat portion of the wall that hasn't yet been destroyed by the fighting.

"Now!" He weakly cries, a window appearing on the approaching mass of rock allowing him to step through unharmed. The chunk of stone smashes into the wall with a dreadful crunch, but unfortunately for Farore's chosen, it hits without Rift behind it. Landing on unsteady legs, the boy sees that Link hasn't spotted him just yet, but even so, he won't last much longer at this rate. Even his superior tactics and techniques are suddenly being overwhelmed by the hero's unrelenting determination.

"Rift," Mai calls, appearing to his right. "Let's finish this together," she offers, opening her arms. Finally locating the boy, Link begins to charge but quickly reconsiders when he sees Mai awaiting her chosen's embrace. Rift's arms fall limply to his sides as the white-haired child slowly walks into his goddess's arms. Squeezing him into her bosom lovingly, they both begin to glow radiantly, and when the light finally subsides, the hero knows he is in trouble. Floating an imperceptible margin off the ground, Rift seems to be upheld by a sourceless whirlwind, his hair and clothing rippling as he slowly glides forward. His head hanging like a marionette, the boy is clearly possessed, drifting past the throne on an uncertain path. Slowly coming into view, his face tilts up revealing his soulless eyes, his expression that of a calm, collected exterminator. Stomping on the edge of a circular shield, formerly belonging to the dark imposter he dispatched, Link no longer knows what to expect as he catches and fits it onto his arm, the daunting deity skating steadily closer while watching his every move.

"The game is over now," Rift declares in a voice not his own. Time itself slips out of the hero's grasp as the possessed boy splits into three translucent figures, each of them dashing at the swordless warrior at absurd speeds. Two of the distorted forms circle around to attack from the sides while the third leaps into the air to descend upon him. Lifting his shield overhead ends in disaster as the figure to his right reveals itself to be the real assailant. A powerful roundhouse kick bends Link's body to the side as he recoils, the spirit of Mai far too fast for him to so much as consider defending against. As she dashes in for the kill, Link evades the tornado kick by drawing his hookshot and latching onto the chandelier overhead. Assumedly safe for the moment, Mai proves doubly effective in the air, dashing past the ascending hero repeatedly in a hurricane of quick strikes. Unable to even perceive which direction she will attack from next, Link feels the pangs of defeat upon him when two hands firmly latch on to each side of his head from behind. A spirit destroying knee digs into his spine as his hookshot slips from his grasp. Splitting into several distorted phantoms and spreading in every direction, the Rift-clones collect in front of the hero, flipping into a devastating overhand right to his chest. This time it is his shield flying away as he is assertively knocked downward by the possessed opponent. Splitting and remerging beneath him, the boy violently catches the falling hero upon a single raised palm, throwing him across the room as if he were weightless. Only able to climb to a knee, Link stares through tired, unbelieving eyes as Rift glides over to him, his head rocking back as Mai partially emerges from his form. Dangling lifelessly at the elbows and waist, the boy is clearly not in control of his actions, Mai's upper half controlling Rift's hands and forearms as she reaches the only obstacle left in her path. Gently seizing the broken hero by the back of his neck, the goddess lifts him to eye level, staring into him with compassionate eyes as she palms his face.

"You've always thought yourself fearless," she smiles, holding him close. "But there is fear in you. You feared your feelings toward the one called Zelda. You feared time would betray you if you sought out the Master Sword. You feared you wouldn't be able to protect the ones you love. Now that they are lost to you, tell me, is there anything left in this world to fear?" She asks, brushing a loose strand of hair out of his face. Her words do the damage to Link's mind her fists have already done to his body. Failing in every way to understand what else she could possibly want from him, the hero has no words to offer. "I thought so," she grins, idly tossing him back to the center of the room like a ragdoll. "I am sorry for what I've put you through, but do not fret, your suffering is at its end," she assures, slowly skating closer. Scarcely breathing, Link awaits her promised end with dread, but not fear. Disappointment, but not worry. After all, Garo's words reigned true, and now that his love is gone, he feels no ties to this realm any longer. The Hero of Time has finally met his demise, though he never imagined it would be at the hands of such an entity. Snapped together again like a treasure chest lid slammed shut, Rift and Mai reunite, the boy's temporarily dead eyes glowing brilliantly white once again. A portal opens beneath the goddess's feet, and upon dropping through she reappears high above, falling right through the original portal again. Rapidly gaining speed, Link realizes this is it. The death blow. Over and over again she plummets, quickly becoming a ghostly blur until a window of light opens directly above the grounded Hylian. Staring up in wonder, he realizes the small circle so high above must be his calling to ascend to the heavens. As time starts to slow, the angel of death falls upon him, her remorseless expression shining through her vessel's face as time stops completely.

"This doesn't have to be the end," a familiar voice points out. A though not his own, spoken from the depths of his mind in his own voice, though it seems distant and warped. "We can destroy her together," he insists in a friendly, cavalier tone, still yet to make an appearance. "Abandon your quest for valor, and the Gods who led you to ruin," he demands, finally appearing above, and leaning over Link's motionless form. Dark Link, the embodiment of all greed, lust, and hatred the hero has dedicated his life to suppressing now stares down at him enigmatically. The translucent shadow of himself does not act threatening, or imposing, but instead like a long lost friend who has come to his aid. "Join me," he proclaims, offering a hand. "You've nothing left to lose. Let us fight as one, and we will reclaim what has been taken. Our pride." His father's words a distant memory, Link's suffering presses down upon him like a thousand chains of consequence and duty. Of sorrow and regret. His very end paused above him, a survival instinct more so than any other rational mode of though drives Link to use the very last of his strength to clasp the shadow's arm just past the wrist. A signing of a contract in irrevocable blood. A pact etched onto his very soul. Pried off the ground by a rush of gravity, Link slowly merges with his shadow as an aura of black spins around him like a serrated blade. Time rapidly resumes its natural flow as Mai meets unearthly resistance, a fierce wind slowing her descent until she finds herself being pushed away by the torrent. Consumed by the darkness, Link doubles over and thrashes where he stands while the orb of shadow spinning around him expands. Black shapes of their own law and element whip about like tentacles as the darkness grows even larger. A howling roar unlike anything ever uttered by any creature to walk the earth explodes from Link's throat while his left arm inadvertently rises outward and straitens grotesquely. Blasting out from within himself, a dreadful triple-helix blade rips out of his body, metastasizing until he holds the enormous handle firmly. Horrific in appearance, the sword spirals up to its point, broken and twisted in sections like a series of vines choking the life from an invisible tree. Primarily black, the misshapen blade has traces of gold along with several swirling specks of light, spinning and weaving about the weapon. Whipping his head upward and arching his back, his power multiplies exponentially, the unstoppable force annihilating the entire castle in a nuclear explosion of black and golden light.

The moonlight shining down across all of Hyrule is blinked out of existence for the lasting moment the eruption of power requires to subside. Barely able to shield herself from the atomic blast, Mai's very essence boils with anger to have been stopped so close to her goal. Far from immune to such unchecked power, her ensemble has been shredded, her vessel's appearance now that of a starved ghost thirsting for blood. The moon casts a silvery glow upon what remains of the castle's foundation, lofted above the river and canyon bordering its perimeter. A steady rain of stone blocks, and metallic supports seems as though it will never end, the blast throwing debris to untold heights. Staring daggers at the dark creature standing before her, Mai has no intention of losing now, slowly circling her opponent and ready for anything. Her absurd ability checked by the outburst, she now walks upon the ground again, carefully choosing her footing as she prepares to strike. Holding his gargantuan sword boldly outward, Omni-Link has retained very little of his original appearance. His blonde hair, fitted into his signature green cap has turned a dark, shimmering gold, lazily waving about his head as gravity has lost all effect upon it. His blue eyes have turned the same shade of gold, sclera and all. The only remaining article of clothing upon him is what remains of his pants, ripped apart by the transformation process. Sporadic cracks and crevices mar his thoroughly beefed-up physical form, randomly glowing an eerie shade of gold as if an orb of light were floating about within his chest. Breathing heavily, Mai exhales with a faint growl before initiating the final battle.

Still infinitely faster than her opponent, Mai splits into multiple, hazy clones between each series of attacks, expanding then receding in formation to make her approach impossible to predict. Able to wield his horrific blade surprisingly fast, the demon of light and shadow counters perfectly, but even so, his blade does not find its target. Landing several successive strikes, the goddess decides she will simply wear her opponent down, sticking and moving to utilize her speed advantage to its fullest. Fed up with the prodding attacks, Link spins his sword overhead before stabbing it into the ground viciously. A sphere of divine, golden light rapidly expands around him, its base infested with thrashing black tentacles of shadow as it throws Mai back a considerable distance before fading away. Immediately charging like a crazed bull, the shadow creature spins into a blinding combination of masterful sword techniques, each strike unpredictable and perfectly angled. Working her arms quickly, the goddess halts the blade long before it even comes close to her form, her outstretched hand seeming to wield an invisible blade as the twisted sword of darkness clashes against unseen resistance. A machine-gun series of clangs later, Link realizes the deity will not fall so easily, pressing down on his sword while her steady hand keeps it at bay. Suddenly splitting into three once again, Mai retreats in every direction at once, her distorted images of Rift splitting again as the number of antagonists multiplies. Now surrounded by dozens of oncoming foes, the sword-wielding demon clenches a single fist near his chest, slamming his palm to the ground just as the dozens of opponents bear down on him. A massive shield of translucent shadow entombs him, the sphere stopping the multitude of assailants in their tracks while the real Mai smashes through the defense with ease.

With a fraction of an instant to react, Link flips his sword handle around within his palm, holding the blade in reverse as he slashes at the goddess's vessel, descending upon his back with ill intent. Able to stop the weapon from striking her, Mai is thrown off course just the same, flipping to her feet and taking evasive action. Gaining a better feel for his new form, Omni-Link increases the pace of his offense drastically, spinning and slashing at his elusive prey as he combines his own style with that of his dark counterpart. Now unable to find a window to strike, the fierce deity splits apart once again, her heart sinking when Link randomly chooses to assault the correct doppelganger. A leaping stab in the form of a superman punch grazes Rift's armor as the absurdly quick attack catches Mai off guard. Thrown to the ground after pushing the blade aside, the goddess rolls into a feral position, growling much more audibly this time around as she pounces upon the shadow. A spinning knee hits its mark as Link pulls his sword from the ground. Giving him no time to recover, Mai combos into a devastating elbow to the temple before dropping back to the ground. A twisting upward kick is enough to lift the demon off his feet before the goddess springs overhead, bashing him back to the ground with a fist-in-hand attack. Now sprawled out in the dirt and rubble, Omni-Link's internal glow dims noticeably as he lies inert for the moment. Grinning with satisfaction, Mai is briefly confused when she spots a falling piece of debris, frozen in time by unknown forces.

"That's enough, sister," a voice insists from behind. Spinning on her heels, Mai finds all three of her sisters standing before her. At the forefront, Nayru eyes her knowingly before continuing. "We've let you bend the rules, but you have gone too far."

"Nonsense!" Mai blurts out, remaining within her vessel, though a revealing light causes Rift's features to vanish where it touches her form. Her disheveled, feral appearance is the antithesis of that of her sisters, radiating grace and poise as they address her. "You have lost, and now you speak to me with petty threats! How far you have fallen. All of you."

"This is no game," she states with a blazing sincerity. "Not any longer. The entity you face is no creation of ours. He has grown beyond our control, and far beyond yours," she explains as Farore nods knowingly.

"I will not bow to Farore's chosen," she instantly retorts. "I have shown you he is not pure of heart, and now you will watch him fall."

"That, dear sister, is where you are mistaken. He is the purest of heart, and if you will not heed our warnings, he will use an entirely new force to defeat you. A force born of his own soul," she explains, not expecting to reach her, but feeling the need to impart her wisdom. "A force beyond even that of the Triforce."

"Meaningless talk," Mai boldly proclaims, briefly eyeing Din's condescending glare. "I am the harbinger of death. I cannot be destroyed. You know this to be true."

"You are immortal," Nayru agrees, pausing for a moment. "Your chosen however," she starts, feeling sympathy for the foolish boy.

"He is mine," Mai growls, pronouncing each word slowly and with emphasis. A sad, somber look steals over each of the goddess, their compassion infinitely more adept than that of the Fierce Deity. With her wisdom offered and rejected, Nayru turns to her sisters, and departs as time resumes its flow. Turning back to her opponent, Mai is surprised to see the golden glow within him not only returning, but growing exponentially brighter. Utilizing his sword like a cane to climb back to his feet, Omni-Link holds the handle in a peculiar way as he crouches into an attack stance. With his sword hand reversed, but his supporting hand still orthodox, he summons every ounce of energy he possesses for his final attack. The golden particles whirling about the blade increase in number and speed, the sword glowing with light and darkness simultaneously. The ground beneath his feet splits and jumps apart, as a growing rumbling grows deafening just before a heart-stopping bass drop. While Mai debates how she will defend the coming attack, Link's long silent lips part to speak a single word. His augmented voice shakes the very air in a deep bellow with the pair of syllables.

"Justice," he breathes, slashing his sword diagonally in an imperceptible instant. A world-destroying wave of radiant light and swarming darkness screams out of the blade, bearing down upon the goddess in the moment between heartbeats. Her foolishness now all too apparent, Mai sheds a preemptive tear for the unparalleled act of betrayal she is about to commit. The void slows time as best it can, but it is not nearly enough to save them both. Emerging from her chosen's form, the goddess glances back to see Rift's confused face as he comes to his senses, and reaches for her desperately. Her open palm drifts away from his extending grasp, eternally reaching for her helping hand. The only word the boy wants to hear is the four lettered offer of assistance from the companion he trusts with his safety. His life. His very soul. As the single tear falls from her cheek, Mai's doesn't understand what she is feeling when her lips part to speak her final farewell.

"I-I'm sorry," she breathes, her eyes watching his fingertips strain to reach her before settling on his helpless face, struggling to form the words.

"You promi—"

## Epilogue

In the years of ruin following the escape of the Fierce Deity, the unfortunate few to survive the grand ordeal desperately search for a meaning in the events that simply isn't there. An explanation, simple in verse, but grandiose in theory and depth delivered to the mortal souls craving spiritual sustenance from their creators. Their faith shaken to the point of uprooting, the inhabitants of Hyrule slowly cease looking to the sky for answers, but instead live in an era of depression and resentment. A land bound by tradition and alliance left to its own devices, eventually splitting into separate regions just as it existed in the years before the Civil War. With history poised to repeat itself once again, the goddesses gaze down upon their creation, each of them pondering a different manner of meaning. Unable to explain the transpired events even if they chose to do so, the four deities watch their earthly inhabitants, finding themselves in a similar state of uncertainty. Independently they are unable to see the larger picture. Even Nayru, in her infinite wisdom, falls short of total comprehension, though her sisters look to her for guidance in these trying times. The simple truth and meaning behind even their presence lies in pieces. Just as an entity of perfect balance does not exist to claim the Triforce, the goddesses each possess merely a fragment of the grander meaning of their existence.

Intuitively compelled to create, the three goddesses of legend maintain their design as best they can, juggling concepts of morality and justice while maintaining natural laws and psychological order. Din, peerless in strength and will, relishes in the concept of power. It was through her chosen she hoped to establish an incontestable reign, and with it, force into place the necessary adjustments to establish a lasting state of order throughout the realm. Farore, an entity of infinite courage and optimism, cannot understand the necessity of evil. With her chosen she strived to banish all who would do another harm, and in her ideal world, every last inkling of immoral and wicked intent would be sought out and banished. Nayru, embodiment of knowledge and discourse, understands the need for both good and evil, but even so she finds no appreciation in the endless cycle. There can be no enlightenment without ignorance. No love without hatred. No peace without violence. Each side of the coin defines the other. Her chosen was a magnifying lens through which she hoped to better understand the aspirations of both good and evil creatures. Unfortunately, mankind is an animal ever changing in its needs and desires, and it is in her quest for unconditional comprehension she fails to simply allow the ultimate answer to find her.

Mai, the lonely keeper of the void, grew resentful in her eternal prison, endlessly looking inward for her own answers until she finally broke free. Her beloved chosen was only intended to be a shell through which she could enact her own solution to the perpetual cycle of her sister's creation. No thirst for violence or love of destruction drove her to this end. Instead, a core connection with the void showed her a world without chaos. A world without sorrow, or limits, or questions. In time it became the only thing that made sense to her. Death. Concepts like love and indifference blended together in her mind, both of them equally perplexing in their irrational ways. It was only in retrospect that she finally understood the monumental meaning in establishing a connection to another. Through all of her lies, love, deceit, and affection she did not come to cherish the utterly unique bond between herself and the boy who trusted her unconditionally. In the single instant she left him behind, she learned more about the incalculable depths of emotion than in all the eons of her imprisonment combined. As she tasted the rawest fear, she understood security. While she executed her betrayal, she comprehended trust. When Rift reached out for her hand, she saw the essence of love. Now that the void has claimed his soul, as it does all things, Mai is left to her eternal prison to contemplate her obsession with nothingness, and her evanescent taste of happiness.

There once lived a man of many names. A hero. His life was extraordinary in every sense of the word. From his birth until his death he faced every manner of trial, both physical and mental, anyone could ever encounter. Living life to the fullest is a claim he, and he alone can make. He enjoyed the most potent happiness in the arms of his love, but suffered the most severe sorrow in the years following her disappearance. He endured the worst kind of pain, fighting for his life throughout his travels, but found the highest state of accomplishment upon achieving his aspirations. The purest of heart, and never faltering in his moral obligations, his mettle was tested beyond that which any mortal being should be put through. His body and mind beaten and pushed to the brink of destruction, he found the greatest power the world has ever seen within himself, and with it, saved the world from utter annihilation. The Triforce has long been heralded as the pinnacle of everything a man, or even a God, should strive to achieve. On that fateful day, Link revealed there are forces within the universe beyond even a deity, and with his unyielding, relentless, tenacious, and righteous passion, he found one. Without the aid or guidance of the goddesses, the hero spent many years combing every inch of the kingdom, searching for what he should have sought out in the beginning. With the Master Sword finally whole once again, the Sacred Realm opened at long last, and inside he was reunited with the only thing that gave him reason to continue all those years. The true source of his strength, deeper than any degree of wisdom, power, or courage. The inspiration to fight against all odds, throughout all pain, and despite all sorrow. A reason to seek justice in a world where there is none.

That is the Legend of Zelda.

