Zelda Guide Fan Fiction

The Curse

"Give me a drink, will you?" he said, sinking onto the worn barstool.

The bartender raised his eyebrows. "It's barely noon, Link."

Link gave the violet-haired man a glare. "I know what time it is. Will you give me a drink or not?"

Kafei shook his head. "Whatever, it's your liver." Grabbing a glass, he filled it with the dark liquid. "Are you still worrying over tomorrow?"

Taking the drink, Link swallowed it all, wincing as it burned its way down. "I still don't know why you dyed your hair that color. You look like an idiot, and I wonder how many indigo plants had to be sacrificed for your new look."

"They died for a worthy cause, and you're avoiding the question."

Sighing, Link propped his elbows on the beaten counter. "Yes, I'm worried about tomorrow. All my years of training depend on what the Oracle says, and this will decide the rest of my future."

"So the prophet lady chooses who'll be in your care and you're stuck with them for the rest of your life. You've known this was coming and it never bothered you before."

"She doesn't have to choose me. What if I fail whatever test she has in store?"

Kafei smiled indulgently. "Link, I don't think she'll pass you up."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Now you got me confused. What do you mean?"

Link ran a hand agitatedly through his blond hair. "What if the Oracle does choose me? I'll be stuck protecting some dull Royal for the rest of my life." He leaned against the counter, trying to focus his thoughts into words, something he had never dared before. "I want to see the world, to explore all the unknowns, see new cultures. Do you know the farthest from home I've been is Kakariko? That's only a candlemark away!"

"That's been building up, hasn't it?" Kafei remarked, wiping clean a glass as he smiled wryly at his friend.

"You have no idea," said Link, sitting back and motioning for another drink. This time Kafei complied without a word.

"I can see your quandary," Kafei said. "If you don't go tomorrow for the ceremony, you'll bring shame upon your family, but you'll be free. If you stay, you fulfill the hopes of everyone but yourself. Tough call."

"You got any suggestions?" Link said. "You gave up running your father's town for here."

A dark smile appeared on Kafei's lips. "These are not the same circumstances. Let's just say I couldn't handle my parents' constant pressure anymore."

"So you dyed your hair purple, eloped and opened a bar in Castleton."

"Don't forget all the drug lords I have in the inn above."

A snort of laughter escaped Link. "Yeah, right. Kafei, mob lord of Hyrule. Has a certain ring to it."

"I'm sure Anju would love to be my partner in crime."

"You never asked," interrupted a new voice.

Kafei smiled at his wife. "Would you like to rule the black market of Hyrule with me? I could appoint Link to be my slave, and he can run everything whilst we whittle away the hours at the beach by Lake Hylia."

Anju burst out laughing, the tray of tankards she carried threatening to tumble off. Link took hold of the tray, moving it to a safer spot. "I think I should have some say before I become anyone's 'slave'."

"You'd love it, I'm sure," Kafei said flippantly.

"Right." Finishing off the last of his drink, Link stood up. "I'd better be going, big day tomorrow and all. Catch you two later."

"Bye Link," Anju said, giving him a heartwarming smile while Kafei waved.

Stepping out of Kafei's crowded tavern, Link emerged into the equally populated streets of Castleton, the capital of Hyrule and seat of the Royal family. Looking over the heads of the people as they passed by, he saw the spires of the ancient castle rise over the city, the only relic still standing from ancient times, though the ruins of a temple haunted one corner of the city, mostly forgotten and covered in ivy and graffiti.

He headed over to the ruins. They were his place to go when he needed to think, to be alone, a rare opportunity in busy Hyrule these days.

The scent of rain and smog, brought by a rising wind, assailed his nose as he stepped onto the cobbled street. Someone's burning coal, he thought with a grimace. While the newly found resource allowed people to heat their homes and power steam engines cheaply, the residue from the fires filled the air with a permanent stench, blackening the city around it.

One of the many reasons I want to leave, he thought, drawing his greatcoat closer to him. Today was chilly, the hint of fall finally making itself known.

Turning off the main avenue, he gratefully left the sounds of the busy streets behind, the crowded houses looming over him, each one seeming to vie for recognition. Their plethora of moldings and columns the wealthy deemed in style covered their facades. He personally detested the design, which reminded him of a child who threw everything together in a fit of temper.

After only six blocks, the scenery drastically changed around him. Derelict houses lined the road, litter strewn in the gutter along with substances Link was happier not knowing. Soot heavily coated the tops of the buildings, their broken windows like missing eyes in the afternoon sunlight. A feral dog raised its hackles at the sight of him before deciding Link wasn't worth the effort and trotted off in search of lunch.

Rounding one last corner, he came to the ruins of the forgotten temple. No one knew what the remnant was for, the knowledge locked up within the walls of the palace. He had once tried to weasel the information from his history tutor, Remus, but to no avail. The man was more pig-headed than he, which was saying something.

Picking his way carefully over the strewn chunks of marble, once one of the building's walls, he entered the roofless temple. He found his usual seat in the farthest corner, hidden from passer-bys, though no one ever came near here. People believed the place to be haunted, which was fine for him. No nuisances to disturb his peace.

The stone floor was cool to the touch, despite the rays of the sun that beat upon its surface. He leaned against the crumbling wall, the ivy that covered nearly everything cushioning his back. A sense of comfort and welcome swept over him, feelings he always associated with the temple. It was like the ruins had a consciousness, one that watched over him and accepted him for who he was, not as a Guardian or some long-remembered hero's descendent. Perhaps this feeling was the reason people believed the place filled with spirits.

Bringing his hands behind his head, he looked up to the sky, the azure color nearly blinding in its brilliance, the sun almost at its zenith. Why do I fear my place here? he asked himself, eyes searching the heavens as if they held some answer. I spent my life learning all manner of weapons, how to fight with or without them, to speak other languages and know about their cultures. All so that I would fulfill my duties as a Guardian, to be one of the elite who protect Royals personally, keeping them safe even at the cost of our lives, a tradition started up after the death of the Great Hero. It's a huge honor, and I'd spend my life in a palace, never wanting for anything.

Wait, that's not true, he corrected himself. I desire the ability to actually use all I learned, to travel to far off places and utilize my knowledge of different lifestyles, surviving on my own with no one to tell me how to live. I'd finally be truly happy...and end up disappointing everyone else in the process. Mother and father would disown me to protect themselves from the shame. I'd probably be exiled from here for giving it all up. He sighed heavily, thinking, Great goddesses, this is only taking me on the same never-ending circles I've been brooding over for days.

"That's it," he said to the sky. "No more useless thoughts, what comes will come and I'll meet it when it gets here. Until then, I'm shutting my brain off."

"Are you sure you ever had it on?"

Taken by surprise, Link let out an undignified yelp as he scrambled upright. Seeing who had snuck up on him, he mock-growled. "Malon, when I get my hands on you..."

The redheaded girl smirked. "You've tried to catch me before and I'm always too fast."

Link had no argument there. Settling back down, he said, "What brings you here?"

"Papa had to talk with the one of the King's councilors about the new tariff on milk. If the bill is signed by the King, we'll lose a lot of profit from our stores."

"You still have the livestock and horses, don't you?"

Malon grimaced. "Yes, but no one has any need for animals anymore, except for a rare few. Horses are too large to fit in most cities, with all the crowding, and those new mechanized vehicles are starting to take their place. Milk and eggs are the only commodities that are keeping us alive at the moment."

"Sorry," murmured Link, unsure of what else to say.

"Not your fault," Malon said with a unbroken grin. "We'll survive, always have. The LonLon name will live on!"

"Glad you're so enthused," said Link, smiling.

"Got to stay positive," Malon said with a wink. "Besides, you promised to visit our ranch again, this time while off duty. We need to stay open, so then I can finally give you a proper tour."

"I will, don't worry."

"You remember that promise, mister," she said, standing up and brushing her skirt off. "I'd better be heading back before I'm missed. Talk to ya' later!"

Link waved her off with a smile. He recalled the first time he'd met the fiery daughter of Talon LonLon, business mogul of the ranching world. He'd been sent there by Lasva, his riding instructor, to ask about a shipment of horses that were due soon.

While Malon had been correct in saying few bought horses nowadays, the Royal family kept their breeding program operational to this day. Hundreds of LonLon horses filled the stables at the castle.

The Ranch, the main headquarters of the LonLon business, was located a half a candlemark from the city, though he wondered how long that would last with the town growing out with each passing year.

The Ranch could be a small city in itself. Workers lived on the property in homes built on the west side, behind the large, crumbling stockade that used to surround the LonLon home and main portion of stables. Acres of land were used to hold the famous LonLon horses and their milk cows, the barns that lined the sides used for chickens or for housing the animals in foul weather.

While he had found the Ranch's location easily, locating Talon, whom he was supposed to bring his message to, was another problem. The enormity of the place coupled with the haphazard way it had been formed quickly stole all sense of direction from him.

Wandering aimlessly, he spotted a young woman exercising horses in a large arena, her flaming hair shining like a beacon in the summer light. Not knowing what else to do, Link decided to take a break from his search and watch. The horse was beautiful, a sorrel with the characteristic conformation of the Gerudo line, long legs, arched neck and short back, though with none of the breed's hotheadedness. The animal responded readily to all the girl's commands and seeing them move together, he had to admit they made a striking pair.

When she spotted him, she pulled up her mount to where he stood. "What brings you here to our humble abode?"

"Nothing much, just trying to find my way around this maze," Link said. "I need to speak with Mr. LonLon."

She dismounted swiftly, handing the reins to a man standing nearby. "I think I can help you there," she said with a smile. Thrusting out her hand, she said, "My name's Malon, his daughter."

Gripping her hand, he said, "Link."

"Stuck running errands for the Royal family?"

"That's what we're here for. Free labor."

She laughed and he felt a smile appear on his own face in response. She had a warm, easygoing personality, one he liked right away. "I'll take you to him, free of charge."

Ever since then, they remained close friends, visiting whenever duty gave them time. With her trusting, open heart, she was a welcome change to the silver-tongued courtesans he encountered everyday at the palace.

Maybe I can get a job there, he mused with a silent laugh. Link, horse boy. Better than Kafei's offer.

Sunlight struck his eyes, the glare blinding him. Raising his arm to block the view, he saw the fiery orb start to sink into the horizon. Letting out a groan, he stood up, ligaments and tendons popping from too much time in one position. Mom and dad are going to kill me, he thought. I was supposed to be home hours ago. Oh well, no use worrying. They can't really murder me, not with tomorrow coming up.

* * *

Link shifted uneasily, the high collar of his dress uniform itching him like mad. The urge to scratch was overpowering, but he refused. Solastaire had threatened death to any who disrupted the ceremony in any way, and Link had a feeling that itching one's neck would not be a plausible excuse for moving.

Will you get this over with! he complained silently. For the past two candle marks they had been subjected to speech after speech, each one telling them of the great honor that would be bestowed upon them, how the kingdom depended on them, blah, blah, blah. The words had run together a long time ago.

Glancing away from the speaker, he scanned the area where the ceremony was taking place. Garlands of late-blooming flowers and leaves hung from the chandeliers and walls of the enormous room they were crowded in. Frescos covered the vaulted ceiling, adding color to the otherwise white surroundings. Link could feel hundreds of eyes upon him and the other two who stood beside him. It felt like the entire population of Castleton was gathered here.

Sneaking a look to the side, he watched the Royals in their area, grinning slightly at the bored expressions of most. The King looked like he was about to fall asleep.

A glimmer of gold caught his eye and he noticed a new face. A young woman sat beside the King on his right, the silver coronet of the heir nestled in her golden hair. Who's she? he wondered. He had never seen the woman before, and with a face like hers, he knew he would have remembered. She was the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on.

A sharp jab in his side made him grunt slightly. Link gave the man standing beside him a glare, which he returned with a sly smile. "Eyes off the Princess Zelda," he whispered, his hazel eyes dancing. "We're supposed to be concentrating today."

"Yeah, like you weren't looking," Link muttered out of the corner of his mouth, giving Lure, his close friend, a wink.

Someone poked both of them hard in the back. "If you two do not remain still, I will personally remove you right now!" Solastaire whispered furiously, his craggy face twisted into an evil scowl. They both nodded their understanding, and satisfied they would stay quiet, Solastaire stalked off, robes billowing behind him.

They exchanged grins when the elder man left. Solastaire often accused them of delighting in angering him, and he was right.

"How much longer do you think this'll take?" Link asked Lure softly when Solastaire was out of earshot.

"Not much longer, hopefully. They keep going on like this, and we'll all have died of old age."

"Will you two be quiet!" chastened the other man to Link's left. "This is a great honor, you both should be more respectful!"

"And you should loosen up," Lure said.

"Shh!" warned Link, seeing Solastaire eye them beadily. He felt another pair of eyes watching them closely and saw the Princess Zelda looking in their direction. He straightened up with a gulp, hoping they hadn't offended the Royal with their soft chatter. To his surprise, she only smiled gently, her _expression melting any bone he had in his body, and turned back to watch the speaker as she finally wrapped up her presentation.

A hush fell over the crowd in anticipation for what would come next. Link bit back a sudden wave of anxiety that threatened to overpower him. The Oracle would appear and soon his future would be decided.

A door in the wall before them opened up and the Oracle stepped out. She wore robes of gold and burgundy, each color complimenting the auburn hair piled atop her head, held back by a headdress decorated with beads and precious gems. Her eyes were dreamy and unfocused, like her mind was elsewhere, which it probably was.

The Voice of the Oracle appeared to her right. She acted as the Oracle's orator, for the seer never spoke unless in prophecy. "Each of you will step forward one at a time and the Oracle shall judge you," she said, her melodious voice carrying easily in the large room. "Marek Vortizen."

Link saw him hesitate, his normally tan skin a milky white. He didn't blame the guy, he knew that was how he was going to look in a few moments. Link gave him a small smile of encouragement, one Marek could hardly return. Taking a deep breath, Marek lowered his head and strode forward, stopping before the Oracle.

What was said between them, no one could discern, for the method of communication the Oracle used was one of utmost privacy. She spoke mind to mind, all truths and hidden secrets revealed to her. Doing so guaranteed the ability and trustworthiness of the Guardian, and also made sure that the position was the right one. A few of the country's best military tacticians and advisors were failed Guardians.

When Marek finished, he returned to his spot beside Link, some inner turmoil visible in his gray eyes. Link wanted to ask him about what had happened, but doing so was forbidden. No one was to know what had transposed. The only knowledge the rest would learn was the identity of the Guardian's charge.

"Lure Oryndell, step forward," said the Oracle's Voice.

"I hope I don't get that witch Harissa," Lure said softly to Link with a roguish grin.

"Good luck," Link said. "Who knows, you may get the Princess."

Lure waggled his eyebrows. "You know it." Squaring his shoulders, he took his place before the Oracle. All was silent within the great room, the absolute quiet grating on Link's nerves. No one dared even to cough during the ceremony.

Link thought about tapping his foot just to break the monotony when Lure did it for him. "That's not possible!" he shouted, shocking everyone in the room. No one had spoken during the Initiating Ceremony ever.

The Oracle's response was a silent one, but her face appeared concerned to Link's searching gaze. Lure seemed to not agree with her answer, for he shook his head violently. "No, I won't believe it, it's not possible."

An excited murmur began in the crowds, their whispers passing through the room like a small breeze. The Oracle placed her hand on Lure's chin, forcing him to look her in the eye, her disconcerting stare burning into his, trying to pass something to him which he was unwilling to accept. Finally he dropped his gaze, the slump of his shoulders betraying a great weariness that had settled upon him. He shook his head one last time, turning away from her and retaking his place in line.

Link watched him, concern building up inside. "Are you all right?" he asked Lure, reaching out to him.

Lure avoided his touch. "It's nothing," he said, not meeting his gaze. "I'll be fine."

Before Link could press the issue, the Voice called his name, the last to speak to the Oracle. Giving Lure one last worried look, he made his way to the Oracle, meeting her sloe-eyed gaze. What did you do to him? he demanded, anger coloring his thoughts red.

What we spoke of is no concern to you, the Oracle said silently. We are here to discuss you.

Link wanted to protest, to force the knowledge from the woman, but he knew it was folly. Instead he said, What about?

You are torn between your desires and your duty, I can see that easily enough. Each has equal hold on your heart. Have you reached a decision on this matter?

Not yet. No matter how hard I try, I can't come up with an answer.

The Oracle cocked her head slightly to the side. Maybe you have the answer, but do not wish to see it.

You're the great seer, you tell me.

Her fathomless eyes crinkled with laughter. Be careful not to bite the hand that would feed you. Suddenly her demeanor became solemn, her face grave and remote. Your hesitance and lack of will is a weakness, one that allows an entrance we cannot afford.

He could feel his brows knit together, puzzlement filling his mind. An entrance for what? I don't understand.

I cannot discern such matters to you, not now. You must make this choice without bias, of your own free will. He could feel a power begin to gather within her, reminding him faintly of magic, a skill very few could wield in this day. He fought the urge that told him to back away from her and held his ground. What choice?

Do not play the fool to me, she said, her eyes narrowing. Answer the question.

He met her gaze, the act helping him sort out the raging tumult of thoughts in his head. What do I want? he asked himself yet again. The answer came swiftly, as if it had lain just below the surface of his mind, evading him like a clever darting fish until this moment.

I want to be free, to live my own life. I don't want to be a Guardian.

It is as I foresaw, said the Oracle, something akin to disappointment filling her gaze. Good fortune to you, young one. You will need it.

Link unconsciously opened his mouth to ask her what she meant, but an impenetrable shadow overtook his vision, blotting out everything around him. He tried to fight the onslaught, pushing it away with his mind and body, but to no avail. The power quickly overcame him and he fell to the ground.

* * * Twelve Years Later * * *

The sound of his footsteps echoed eerily off the stone streets, accompanied by the clop of a horse's hooves. Normally this place was filled with people, their voices ringing through the air, making their presence known to all around. Now the city resembled a ghost town, the empty buildings and desolate landscape lending to the sense of abandonment.

Hurried abandonment, he thought, noting the furniture he could see inside one house, as if the owners fled with no other thought but to escape. Probably did, too, he mused, absently stroking his mare's sleek neck. The horse walked calmly beside him, scanning the surroundings just as closely as he did. Not a normal act for a horse, but after all, Epona wasn't a normal horse.

Any remaining? The mare's thought flitted into his mind. She knew how much he had dreaded coming back to this place, and wanted to help him finish his search as quickly as possible.

"Most likely," he said. "There were people living in the other capitals we visited." I hope everyone got out all right, he added silently to himself. If any of his friends had been hurt, or worse, he would never forgive himself.

"Let's check out the epicenter," he said. Epona bobbed her head in agreement, her flaxen mane rising and falling like a silken wave, complimenting her chestnut coat beautifully. Muscles rippled under velvety skin, the feathering on her fetlocks covering her large hooves like golden veils. She was a perfect specimen of a horse; not a flaw could be found on her.

They continued to follow the road, it once being the main thoroughfare for the city years ago. Soon they came to a gate that had barred the way forward, now only hanging off its hinges, broken and defeated like most of the town.

Beyond was absolute destruction. A crater stretched before him, beginning at the very edge of the gate and stretching for miles onward. Where once the castle of Hyrule stood proudly, now only shattered rock and scorched earth remained.

He raised a hand to his face, wearily rubbing his forehead. He had known what he would find; the same devastation could be seen in every country's capital, from the Gerudo lands in the west to Calatia in the far east. Twelve years ago, a force of immense strength had obliterated the seat of power of every country on this land.

The knowledge failed to lessen the pain in his heart. Epona sidled up to him, offering him comfort, his pain palpable in her mind. He took what she offered, leaning onto her strong shoulder. "You'd think I'd be used to it by now," he told her, absently running his fingers through her mane.

You are human, you mourn for the loss of your loved ones.

"Yes, I suppose that is our weakness. We best continue our search before leaving."

She turned her head, fixing a liquid brown eye on him. Where will we go next? We have been to every country within our reach, what will we do then?

"I'll let you know when I figure it out," Link murmured. Straightening, he headed back the way he came before turning off the main avenue. He wandered aimlessly, searching the city for some sign of life, some hint of hope.

Glancing to his side, he recognized the place his feet had taken him. Kafei's, the thought accompanied by a lance of pain. The building was dark, the windows coated in layers of dust and grime. Raising a hand to the knob, he hesitated. Go, urged Epona.

He closed his hand on the knob and pulled open the door, its hinges creaking in protest. Inside, the air hung stale, dust stirred up from his passage reflecting the weak sunlight that barely made it through the coated glass. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, but he noticed the floor by the door was swept clean by the passing of feet. The dust-free path continued to the staircase to his right, one that led to the inn above. Don't get your hopes up, he commanded himself.

He followed the trail, keeping to the edge of the stairs to minimize creaks. His senses were open and alert for any signs of danger. Thieves had become rampant in this age, all government that once bound them gone, allowing them free rein.

At the top of the stairs, he saw candlelight flickering from a room nearby. Soft voices could be heard from inside, and he crept closer to their source. He mistakenly set his foot on a warped floorboard and winced at the groan the wood issued. Instantly the voices stopped. Go in or hide? he asked himself. The choice was made for him as the door swung open, revealing Anju holding a frying pan. She halted her attack in mid-swing, her gray-blue eyes going wide at the sight of him. "Link," she breathed, the frying pan slipping from her fingers to land on the floor with a thud. "By the Triforce, you're alive?"

Link smiled hesitantly. "As are you. Is Kafei here?"

"Oh, oh yes, yes he is." She pulled the door open all the way and grabbed him into a tight embrace. "We thought you were dead for years, oh it's so good to see you!"

He returned the hug, thankful beyond thought that some of his friends were spared. There were lines on Anju's face that were not brought on by age alone, and her eyes were shadowed by fatigue. He hoped she had not suffered greatly.

Anju released him after a moment. She studied his face and decided not to ask any questions, much to his relief. "Still as good looking as ever," she said with a smile that hadn't been used in a while. "Come in, I'll take you to him." Once they were both inside, she bolted the door securely.

Link spotted a small girl before an unlit fireplace, her hair reflecting the same russet hue of her mother's, though her eyes were Kafei's unusual shade of indigo. She stared at him with the open gaze of a child, unafraid and direct. Unusual for anyone in this time of uncertainty and fear.

"Link, this is my daughter Aeora," Anju said, placing her hand on the young girl's shoulder.

"She's beautiful," murmured Link. He was uncomfortable around children, most running scared from the sight of the man with the sword and the eyes haunted by many terrible sights. He had a feeling that, unlike their parents, they retained the ability to see past facades and were frightened by what they discerned beneath his.

This girl was different. She remained where she sat, her face set in solemn silence. "If you'll follow me," continued Anju. "I'll take you to him."

Link nodded and headed after her. The woman led him to a smaller room off the main chamber. Sputtering lamps filled with precious oil that had become rare lit the scene before him, and he fought the urge to cry. He walked to the bed, not noticing Anju slipping away, leaving him alone with his aged friend.

Scars covered the man's body, the parts visible making Link cringe in sympathy. The worst was his face. Where his eyes used to be, eyes that had sparkled with laughter and joy, now only blank sockets remained.

He sank onto a chair beside the small bed, still warm from Anju's vigil. He reached forward to grip his friend's hand and stopped, his fingers hovering just above the pallid flesh. What right did he have to touch this man? What had he done to deserve such a gift?

Kafei's hand clasped his own, taking his trembling hand in a warm grip. "I know it's you," the blind man whispered, a ghost of a smile on his shrunken face.

Tears fell from Link's eyes. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his knuckles turning white from the force of his hold, one Kafei returned fully.

"Why? It's not your fault. I was attacked by a Death Rider after the Cataclysm," he said, using the common word people gave for the devastating attacks on the capitals. "You were missing still, you couldn't have done anything."

How wrong you are, he thought bitterly. Tentatively, he reached up and brushed away a lank strand of hair from Kafei's face. "You're lucky to survive a Death Rider," he said softly, ignoring the clench of his stomach.

Kafei laughed, the sound raspy and raw in his throat. "I was the only one out of a party of seven. We were searching the crater after the Cataclysm for survivors. We had just gotten to the place when one of those accursed things showed up. I only lived because I was a coward and ran." The last words came out like they were poison to his lips.

"And because of your smart sense, not your lack of bravery, Anju still has a husband, and your daughter has a father. Kafei, there was no way you could have done anything. Death Riders can't be killed, they can't be harmed by any method you could use."

A wry grin twitched the corners of Kafei's lips. "If you say so." Suddenly he pulled Link close to him into an embrace. "It's good to have you back," he whispered in Link's ear.

"It's good to be back." He tightened his hold, leaning his forehead on the man's shoulder. After a time that was infinitely too short, he pulled away from Kafei. "I have to leave now." An idea struck him then. Pulling a medallion from under his greatcoat, he removed the necklace from his neck. The golden metalwork of a leaf engraved with ancient runes reflected the lamplight.

"Here," he said, pressing the medallion into Kafei's hand. "Take this."

Kafei ran his hands over the metal. "What is it for?"

"If you take it to the Kokiri Wood, the inhabitants will allow you to pass. Their leader is a great healer; she may cure your wounds, or at the least offer you a safe haven."

"I cannot accept-"

"Take it," commanded Link. "I have no use for such a gift; you do."

Kafei smiled. "I know better than to try and outlast you in an argument, you stubborn goat. Thank you, I'm grateful."

"You owe me no gratitude," Link said, rising. "Leave as soon as you can."

The man nodded. "Until we meet again, friend."

A lump had worked its way into his throat and he couldn't swallow it down. Link patted the man's leg and turned from the room, all but running away.

Anju gave him a brief smile before she returned to her husband's side. He honored her tenderness and diligence, never forsaking Kafei despite the burden she must be bearing. Their love was truly great.

He let himself out the door, casting one last glimpse at Anju's quiet child before leaving. He quickly swept down the stairs and outside, relishing the cool breeze on his face.

Epona separated herself from the shadows and made her way to his side. They will be safe?

Link nodded. "I sent them to Saria."

A wise choice. The Lady will take good care of your friends.

"Death Riders attacked him."

The past is over, Link. I cannot feel the regret you do, and do not wish to, but you must overcome it.

Link clenched his hands, his teeth gritted in hate. Anger, however, I can feel, as well as abhorrence, Epona thought with a touch of amusement.

Shaking his head, Link took a steadying breath. He should know better than to start this kind of conversation with her. "I plan on heading to Kakariko next, that all right with you?" He gave the mare a sideways glance.

I follow where you go, she said blandly.

Letting out a soft snort, he mounted, the leather creaking as he settled himself into the saddle. Epona bore tack only because it made it easier on her back and his rump. The hackamore she wore was for show only. Too many people became curious at the sight of him riding without any known source of control.

"I want to make a pit stop before then," Link said softly.

I was wondering when the idea would occur to you.

Link grinned. "You just want to go because she'll cosset you until you're nothing but a spoiled creature."

Nothing wrong with that.

Shaking his head in amusement, he urged Epona past the crumbling gates of the city to the country beyond.

* * *

The sun hovered low in the horizon, its weak touch bloodying the land with it's crimson fingers. A moaning wind filled the air, the only sound to be heard. Ever since the Cataclysm birds had ceased to sing, insects refused to chirp, and all manners of wild beasts would only watch silently from their dark warrens.

LonLon Ranch stood before them, its new stockade an imposing sight. They had built the giant wall after thieves raided their stables and storehouses for the second time, this time setting fire to the complex. Some of the burned roofs could be seen peeking over the stockade, though most had been repaired by now.

He urged Epona to the only gate, located on the stockade's eastern side. Braziers filled with wood and a few bits of coal burned brightly, keeping the area well lit. "What do you want?" called a suspicious voice from the top of the gate. Link knew he had at least two crossbows trained on him now. "I wish to speak to Malon," he said, keeping his hands in sight and free of weapons. "Tell her Link is here."

The sounds of whispered voices arose, followed by the creak of wood as someone descended the ladder, no doubt running to tell Malon about the arrival of this stranger. He didn't begrudge their caution; this was the first time he had come here, though it would not be his first at seeing Malon after the Cataclysm.

He had come upon her by chance at Calatia's capital during one of his sojourns to the sites of devastation that had befallen the land. Her reaction had been remarkably like Anju's when she had seen him, her eyes going wide with disbelief and hope. Once she got over the initial shock, she'd threatened to beat him within an inch of his life, much to Epona's amusement. There had been tears in her eyes throughout her tirade, and when she finished, Link gathered her into his arms, giving her a safe haven for her weeping.

Her sobbing was almost as bad as seeing Kafei mutilated. The hurt and pain that had built up for seven years pouring out like a flood in the form of tears. He had whispered nonsense in her ear, anything to ease her sorrow.

Soon the crying abated, and Malon had told him why she was in the eastern lands and not at her ranch. Her father had disappeared over a month ago, and no word had arrived since then. She knew Talon had come to Calatia for the same reason as Link did; to see if the government still existed, though Talon wished to establish ties to said government in order to keep his Ranch running.

Malon had demanded that he give an explanation for his disappearance, one Link was not about to divulge. He had just found his friend and had no wish to loose her again. After promising her he would tell one day, he offered to help her find her father. She accepted his aid, and they found Talon almost a week later, the victim of a bandit raid. He was bedraggled and starved, but otherwise unhurt, much to Malon's delight.

After ensuring both Malon and her father were safely guarded and on their way home, he had left her once more to renew his wanderings. He had not seen her since.

Wonder how she'll take my sudden appearance, thought Link, shifting in the saddle.

Will you quit your dancing up there? Epona snapped.

"Excuse me, majesty," said Link.

You shouldn't fret, she'll welcome you with open arms.

"I'm worried about questions she might ask," he muttered.

Humans, Epona said with a sigh. You think too much.

"You're partly right," said Link. His pointy ears perked up, the sound of the gate's bolt being pulled free breaking the quiet.

See? I told you, Epona said, an infuriating smirk heard in her thoughts.

Link resisted the urge to bop her, a move that would end up with him on the ground in less than a second, and kept an eye on the opening gate.

The firelight accentuated her hair, adding a golden glow to her skin, the shadows deepening the lines of her face. Everyone seems so old, thought Link with a touch of sorrow.

"It's about time you got here," Malon said with a small grin, her hands on her hips.

Link dismounted and gave the woman a one-armed hug. "I'm not late, am I?" he said with a wry smile.

"Precisely on time, as always." Seeing Epona by his side, she said, "I see you brought the pretty one. I still would love to know where you found her. If there are any others of her kind, they'd be a great asset to our bloodlines."

Epona preened at her words. Don't get a big head, he warned her silently, humor tingeing his thoughts. She answered by gently nipping his shoulder.

Turning to Malon, he said, "Maybe someday I'll tell you, but I think I'm justified in saying she's one of a kind, which is a good thing."

Epona laid her ears flat, causing Malon to giggle. "Let's go inside," she said, grabbing his arm. "We shouldn't leave the gates open."

Nodding, Link allowed himself to be pulled in, ignoring the curious stares of the guards. He knew they must be wondering why anyone would wander outside with all the danger that lurked, both in human guise and demon.

Malon ushered them to a stable deep within the center of the stronghold. "This is the safest place we can put your mare," she told him.

Link knew Epona would be safe even if she wandered into a den of thieves, but he kept the thought to himself. Can you suffer to be in there for one night? he silently asked her.

If I must. I hate these prisons, she grumbled. "Thank you," Link said to Malon. "Is there any particular stall I should place her in?"

"I can have a stable hand do this for you," she offered.

Link shook his head. Anyone that tried would end up missing body parts. "No thanks, she's a little skittish around others."

Epona snorted. "If you insist," said Malon. "I'll wait for you in the house."

Nodding, Link led Epona into the stable, the scent of hay and horse filling the air. "I should put you near the end," Link said.

There's a stall in back with no other horses nearby, that one should work, Epona informed him.

He walked with her to the stall, thankful the stable was devoid of people. At the sight of Link and Epona, the animals backed away, their eyes rolling. A few let out a shrill whinny, but most were blessedly silent, aside from anxious shifting.

You'd think they'd never seen a horse before, Epona thought, amusement coloring her words.

Link laughed softly. "I think you enjoy discomforting others too much. And it�s not like you are a natural horse."

You aren�t natural either.

Link ignored her comment as they reached the far end of the stable and Link stripped the mare of her tack with an ease borne of countless practice. Finding a bucket of brushes, he rubbed her coat down. Epona's eyes closed with pleasure as she leaned into his strokes. This is why I love you, she all but purred.

"Spoiled horse," he said affectionately. Finished, he opened the stall door. She walked in, testing the depth of the straw with her hooves. I guess this will work, she told him. Link filled her water bucket and found grain for her, which she accepted gratefully. "It still amazes me that you have to eat," he said to her, watching her greedily devour her food.

Energy, my dear boy, she said, her eyes peering over the top of the bucket. Everything needs energy to survive. Besides, it tastes good.

Shutting the stall door, but leaving it unbolted, he gave her one last pat. "See you later, horse."

Later, fairy boy, she called, using the term a Kokiri child had given him. She knew it annoyed him to no end.

Inside the lightened farm house Malon and her father lived in, Link waited for a servant to tell Malon he was back. He studied the foyer, the wood paneling shining a ruddy mahogany in the lamplight. He had always liked this house, and not for the fact that it was the second largest building in Hyrule, the castle being the first.

The edifice dated back to the Imprisoning War, the first battle that had been fought to rid the world of evil. Since then numerous owners had kept adding on until the structure sprawled for acres and rose up four stories, each addition standing out from the next. It was the most eccentric house he'd ever seen, and he loved it.

"You don't have to stand in the entryway," Malon said, appearing from around the corner.

Link smiled. Removing his coat, he set it on the rack beside the door. "I hope I don't track too much dirt into your house," he said, only half-joking.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'll make you clean it up if you do."

Link chuckled. She motioned for him to follow and led him into one of the many parlors, this one from a period where low ceilings and dark paneling were the rage. Must be the same guy who designed the foyer, he thought. A low fire lit most of the room, bitter smelling lamps taking up the rest of the slack in the far corners. Dark carpeting covered the floor, softening the sound of their footsteps, the hue black in the firelight. Armchairs that looked more than a little worn hulked in front of the hearth, their legs appearing to have been the chew toy of many a dog.

As if in response to his thoughts, one such dog waltzed in. He had the lines of luopanus, the Kokiri word for Wolfos, once a great threat to their woods, a giant beast that preyed on their people. Hylians had somehow domesticated the wild breed; those who had not submitted to their will were killed.

The dog's brindle fur rose slightly at the sight of Link, its lips curling back in a silent snarl. Another trait of luopanus. They never made a noise unless it was to howl right before its teeth sank into the soft throat of its prey.

"Easy Cirion, it's all right, " Malon cooed, wrapping her arms around the beast's neck, her arms sinking into the thick fur. Link had the sudden urge to pull her back. "He's not a big fan of strangers," she said, smoothing the dog's hackles.

Link's lip quirked. Somehow he didn't think his being a new person was the only reason. Malon released her hold on the dog. Cirion cautiously made his way to Link, forelegs stiff, tail thrust aggressively upwards. Link sank to his knees, making himself appear less of a threat. With tentative sniffs, the wolf-dog tested Link's scent, its amber eyes never leaving his. I won't harm you, Link thought, trying to will the dog to understand him.

Something about his demeanor appeased the wolf-dog. Cirion backed off, heading towards Malon, taking a position close to her side. Brave dog, he thought with appreciation. Most animals ran at the sight of him.

Rising, Link said, "Thank you for taking me in."

Malon smiled. "I couldn't let you wander around at night. You know you're always welcome here." She motioned to the armchairs. "Let's sit by the fire."

Link obeyed, keeping a wide berth around Cirion, who pointedly ignored him. Sinking into the cushions, he leaned his head against the high backrest, watching the firelight dance through half-closed lids. He felt Malon's eyes on him, studying his profile in the warm light. He imagined what must be going through her head just then. His face looks haggard and thin; is he getting enough to eat? Those clothes are faded and worn, the boots scuffed beyond repair. Hair too long, shadows under the eyes. What is he doing to himself? Why is he wandering around like a nomad? All valid questions and each one he'd rather die than answer.

"How're things on the farm?" he asked, steering her thoughts elsewhere. If he could keep up the small talk until she went to bed, he would escape unscathed.

"We're the only supplier of livestock, poultry, and produce for miles. Every other business fell after the Cataclysm; they couldn't function without the Royal family's aid. Ingo's ecstatic; he wants to completely rip off everyone. Thankfully papa won't listen to him. We've plenty of money, no threat of starvation. In other words, we're awful."

Link steepled his fingers before his face, elbows propped on his chest. "Maybe it's selfish of me," he said, "but I'm glad you're profiting from all this."

A soft chuckle escaped Malon's lips. "You would say that. How're you doing?"

Keep it vague, keep it broad, he reminded himself. "Fine, as fine as we all can be. You know, something's always puzzled me. Why do you keep Ingo if he's such a shark?"

"Because he's a shrewd shark," she muttered and lapsed into silence.

He said something to offend her, he could tell by the way she stared into the fire, her face slack, devoid of emotion. He always knew when she got upset with him. You should let it go, the wiser side of him advised. Asking questions will only work out badly for you. Unfortunately he didn't have a good record of listening to his smarter half. "What's the matter?" he said softly, dreading the answer.

"You are!" she shouted, his words spurring her to action. "Every time I try to talk to you, to find out how you are, what you're doing, you push me away. You hide behind some goddess' wall and keep me out." She turned to him, her face open and pleading, the glimmer of tears beginning to shine in her eyes. He felt a headache coming on.

"Why do you keep these secrets?" she demanded. "We used to talk about everything. I even told you about my first kiss, when Jarris Karrulyn kissed me on a dare, then told everyone I was awful at it. I cried for hours until you came and asked me what was wrong. And I told you! I told you everything, despite how embarrassing it was!"

Malon, he grieved. You're so innocent. If only this was as simple as a failed first kiss. "There isn't much to say," he said lightly, not meeting her gaze.

"There must be something. Anything. Where have you been? What are you doing? Why in all the nine Realms do you go from capital to capital, as if you're on a pilgrimage to atone for some past sin of yours?"

He winced at the accuracy of her words. Not completely true, he told himself. There is no way you could repent, no matter how hard you try.

So why do you? asked a part of him, one he normally kept hidden from even himself. Why do you resist day after day? Giving in would be so much easier.

No! No, never, not ever again! he shouted to that despicable voice, forcing it back with all his strength.

"Are you even listening to me?!" He jumped, seeing Malon right in front of him, caging him in his chair with her arms. Looking up, his heart broke at the sight of her falling tears. How many times? How many times must I hurt her? He turned his head away, saying coldly, "Please stop, Malon. You're embarrassing yourself."

His words stung her, each one a knife to her heart. "You can't mean that."

Schooling his _expression, he faced her again. "I do mean it. What I do is my business, not yours. You are acting like a child having a temper tantrum." Push her away, he told himself. Keep pushing her away and she won't be hurt anymore.

She reeled back at the acidity in his words. "What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?"

Seeing an opportunity to escape, he rose up from the armchair and began to walk away. Her hand grabbed his shoulder. "Link, what's wrong? Please, tell me why you're acting like this."

"Nothing is wrong," he voice deadly quiet. He felt her recoil, her instincts reacting to the menace he was projecting. Keep driving her away and I will never hurt her again. "I'm tired and wish to sleep."

Cirion growled softly, his feral gaze meeting Link's. Link resisted the urge to snarl back at the beast, instead using his raging emotions to stalk towards the door. "Take the first room on the second floor," he heard her say from behind him.

He nodded curtly, never turning to meet her gaze, and headed for the room. Once inside, he shut the door and rested his throbbing head on the worn oak. Hot tears that he'd held back leaked out despite his best attempts to keep them inside. This will protect her, he reminded himself. This is for her own good.

Then why does it hurt so much? he asked his aching heart. She was my last friend, my last connection to my old life.

She was a liability, his cruelly practical side said.

Cutting off the internal debate, Link opened the window in his room, welcoming the touch of cool air to his hot face. Clouds darted across the silvery surface of the moon, casting alternate light and shadow over the world.

Finding a chair hiding in the corner of the room, he pulled it over to the window and sat. Propping his elbows on the weathered sill, he watched the stars peek out from behind their gauzy curtains. He wished he could distance himself from his pain, to be as far away as the stars, so cold and remote.

Wishing will get you nowhere, he thought harshly. A ragged sigh escaped his lips, his head dropping to the ledge. The hurt look on Malon's gentle face haunted him, and no matter how many times he told himself he did the right thing, the pain remained.

Darkness.

The sound of a door slamming jerked Link from his sleep, his head hitting the window sash above him. Letting out a curse, he rubbed the back of his head, muttering softly about his poor choices in beds. He had fallen asleep by the window.

Glancing out the window, he saw Malon stalk outside, her every movement filled with suppressed anger. Great Farore, he prayed silently. Please give me the strength to face her again, especially in that mood. He let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. I�d rather face a thousand hordes of monsters than speak to her in a foul temper.

Rising from his seat, he winced as he worked out the cricks accumulated from the night. He straightened his clothing, about the only thing he could do to make himself look slightly more presentable. Running a hand through his hair, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation that was sure to arise.

Before facing the danger outside, he pilfered some bread and milk from the kitchen. By the glares he received from the staff, he was sure their argument last night had not gone unnoticed. Giving one glowering maid a hearty smile, his cheeks stuffed with food, he grabbed his coat and made his way to the stable.

Early morning light washed over the complex, the gray illumination casting long shadows over the ground. A fine mist had sprung up, the ghostly tendrils coiling around the buildings, a lost cloud trying to touch the earth.

Lanterns and watch fires still burned, lighting the way for him as he walked to the stable. Inside the dark structure, he made his way cautiously to Epona�s stall. If he could sneak the two of them out of here without meeting Malon, he would thank the goddesses on bended knee for the rest of his life.

Seeing Malon saddling a horse near Epona�s stall, Link thought, Well, there goes that hope. Heaving a silent sigh, he stroked Epona�s face as she greeted him. What did you do now? she asked him, her keen eye focused on Malon as she vigorously groomed a blue roan gelding, the horse looking like he wanted to sidle away from her harsh brush strokes, but not get too close to Link and Epona.

I only want to protect her, he thought to the mare.

You mean you want to protect yourself, she said shrewdly.

Link gave her a glare. Not bothering to respond, he quickly brushed her off, all the while keeping his back to Malon. After he finished saddling Epona, he led her from the stall, his hope sinking when he heard an extra pair of hooves following.

Out in the yard, he mounted and finally turned to face Malon, who was astride the aggrieved roan. �What do you think you�re doing?� he said, keeping his voice low to hide the emotion that was building.

�What does it look like?�

�You can�t follow me.�

Malon cocked her head, challenge blatant in every line of her body. �Why not? How are you going to stop me?�

His hand clenched the reins. This is not what he had in mind. �What about your duty here?� he said, knowing this was his best argument. Malon loved the ranch, would give her last breath to ensure it would survive and her horses would be happy.

�Papa has more than enough help,� she said, her eyes narrowing. She knew he was going to try anything to keep her back, and she refused to let him. �I know you�re doing something about the Cataclysm,� she continued. �If I can find a way to help you prevent such a thing from happening again, we can start to rebuild our land, perhaps bring back a system of government to the people. What better way to protect my home? Staying here, holed up, in constant fear of another bandit raid or Cataclysm, what good does that do?�

�You can�t come with.�

�Link! Why not? Do you think I�ll hold you back, that I�m too weak to be of any aid? Do you hate me this much?�

Say yes, instructed his practical half. �No,� he said quietly, his eyes focused on an enthralling patch of dirt between Epona�s ears.

�Then why?�

Stupid weakling, he thought to himself. You deserve what happens to you. �Because I don�t want you to be hurt.�

Malon looked like she was expecting more. �That�s it?�

�What more did you want?� he said, giving her a sideways glance.

�I don�t know,� she confessed. �I just thought there was something more, that you were mad at me for some reason. I thought I did something to offend you.�

The absurdity of it all made him laugh. �What�s so funny?� Malon demanded.

�Nothing,� said Link, holding back his slightly hysterical laughter. His face sobered. �I can�t convince you to stay, can I?�

She shook her head. �I won�t let you do this on your own.�

Well this is an interesting turn of events, Epona interjected. Does she even know how to fight?

A question he was wondering himself. �Malon, do you have any way of defending yourself? I can�t spend all my time protecting you.�

She bristled at his words. �I can take care of myself, thank you.� She pulled out a pair of stick-like objects, each capped with a sickle on one end. Kamas, he thought, recognizing the weapons. Ones Zora usually prefer. Interesting.

�Yes, I know how to use these,� Malon said, replacing the weapons. �I�ve trained with them since the Cataclysm, and they�ve saved my life a time or two.�

A depressing thought, he mused. Hunching his shoulders to ease a muscle cramp, he turned Epona to the open gate. �So I can go?� Malon asked, her voice full of hope.

�It seems I can�t stop you.�

Malon urged her horse next to Epona, who watched him with wicked amusement. No ideas, he told her. She tossed her head, an equine equivalent to a shrug. �Where are we headed?� Malon asked.

�Kakariko. I need to restock my supplies.�

�Let�s go then,� she said, urging the roan into a trot. �Time to head out.�

I think she�s enjoying this too much, Epona said, picking up a canter to catch up.

�Let her have fun while she can,� he murmured. �Who knows what tomorrow will bring?�

* * *

Slinging the saddlebags onto the scarred table, Link sat down beside Malon, who was watching the scenery around her avidly. �Will you quit that?� Link hissed.

�Quit what?�
�You look like a sightseer. You�ll attract every thief�s attention for miles. Try to act like you�re used to everything.�

Malon shrugged and took a sip from her tankard. �Blegh,� she said, making a face. �That has got to be the nastiest ale I�ve ever had.�

�You should try the Dancing Man�s fare. That stuff will kill a moblin.�

�If it�s anything like this drink, I�d believe it. Are Epona and Phooka all right?�

Link nodded. He bet the two horses were having better luck with their food than they. �I�m going to get something to drink.�

�Avoid the ale,� she said with a snicker.

Link strode to the bar, the Kakarikean tavern almost completely empty, despite the fact it was evening, usually the busiest time for any dining business. I doubt the food kept them all away, he thought.

A grizzled man stood behind the counter wiping clean glasses. His clothing was more suited for hunting than bartending, and he wore a patch over his eye, a continuing scar visible above and below the leather piece. �Whaddya want?� he ground out to Link.

�Beer, if you have any.�

The man eyed him closely. �Aye, we do.� He filled the glass in his hand from the keg and placed it before Link. �That�ll be two rupees.�

Link fished out the proper amount from his wallet, ruefully noting how light it was becoming. Placing the money on the counter, he started to pull his hand back when the other man grabbed it, moving with a speed Link thought him incapable of.

Before Link could react, the man pulled up the sleeve of his left hand, exposing a small tattoo on the inside of his wrist, the design a zoomorphic knot of an owl, a lion, and a bull. Link snatched his hand back, his other reaching for the sword at his waist. �Peace,� said the bartender, holding up his hands. He pulled his own sleeve back, showing Link an identical marking. �I thought you had the air of a Hunter.�

�Who�re you?�

�Name�s Tarragon, come from the Eagle division.�

�Why are you acting as a barkeeper?�

�Got reports from here that there�ve been Poe sightings in the village. Plus someone�s swore they spotted a Wraith.�

�You�re going to need more than one person to take on a Wraith,� Link said.

Tarragon nodded. �We�ve others stationed throughout here, though no villager knows it.� He gave Link an appraising glance. �You think you could offer any help?�

Remembering his light wallet, he said, �How much is the bounty?�

�Five hundred rupees if one person catches the Wraith, that amount split if any others help. Poes are worth an extra fifty.�

�I�ll see what I can do.� Taking his mug, he walked back to the table. He nursed his drink while Malon continued to watch the people despite his advice, her eyes alit with excitement. After a while, he said, �Can you check in at the inn by yourself?�

�Huh? Oh, sure, that�s not a problem.� Suspicion suddenly reared its ugly head, and she said, �Why? Aren�t you coming along?�

�I�ve got something I need to do,� he said, fixing her with look that told her not to ask.

Not wishing to push her luck any further, Malon blew out a hard breath. �Fine, it�s taken care of. Just come back quickly, all right?�

Link nodded, giving her a relieved smile. He watched her leave before emptying the saddlebags on the table. Rope, a large bundle of throwing knives, poison tipped darts, arrowheads, and a pair of mangled gloves were among the vast assortment of weaponry and items he removed. None of this will work against the dead, he mused, studying his gear. Oh! Memory hit him, and he pulled off the leather pouch that hung from his belt. Inside was a small vial of clear liquid, the crystal container reflecting light off its faceted surface. A gift from Saria when he left the Wood. She had told him it was dew collected within the courtyards of the Forest Temple, the wellspring of all life, and its properties allowed it to cure poisons and abolish the dead.

Exactly what I need, he thought. Picking up the arrowheads, he studied them. They should work. If I dip the metal into the liquid, the arrow will carry the panacea to the Wraith and banish it to the shadow realm where it belongs. Now I just need to buy a bow. Too bad I lost the last one to that fire drake by Death Mountain.

Wondering if any shops were still open, he packed up his gear and left the inn, the weight of Tarragon�s gaze heavy on his back.

* * *

Running an appreciative hand over the satin-like feel of the wood, Link picked up the unstrung recurve bow, testing it�s balance. The simple design, much less complicated than a compound or crossbow, was familiar to him. He�d practiced with this style of bow for hours at the palace.

Squashing the emotions that rose up from that thought, he strung it, plucking the string like a musician listening for off-key notes. Satisfied, he drew the finely woven thread back to his chin, pulling back the limbs of the bow, checking its flexibility and resilience. Wonderful piece of weaponry, he thought, releasing his draw. But how much will it cost?
He scanned the interior of the cramped shop once more, trying to discern some form of life amidst the gloomy interior. The sign by the door read �Diderick�s Armory and Hunt Shoppe,� but Diderick was no where to be found. �Anyone here?� he called into the darkened back. There seemed to be a door behind the counter, perhaps leading to a storeroom. Maybe the owner was there.

Moving to the dusty countertop, he set the bow beside the dozen arrow shafts he�d picked up. Hopefully he wouldn�t need so many for this hunt, but the fletched wood was of unusual quality, like the bow. He didn�t want to miss an opportunity to buy finely made goods for once.

Drumming his fingers on the splotched counter, he tried to peer inside the backroom, visible through the crack left by the ajar door. He couldn�t detect any movement or sound whatsoever. There is another way, said a soft voice, twining around his thoughts like a seductive perfume. No, he told it firmly, clamping down hard on the wayward idea. I�d rather steal them.

He turned around, leaning his back against the counter. Folding his arms over his chest, he let out a sigh. He�d wait all night, if he had to.

Suddenly a soft whisper of movement told him of the approach of a stranger. Link whirled around, drawing his sword at the same time, steel shining dully in the mournful light.

�Very nice,� said an appreciative voice, coming from the man Link held at sword-point. He stood behind the counter, the tip of Link�s blade even with his heart. His burly physique and hairy body was strongly reminiscent of a bear�s.

�You always sneak up on potential customers?�

�O� course. How else do I know if they�re worthy o� my equipment?�

Link withdrew his sword, sheathing it. �You could get yourself killed.�

�Maybe. Maybe not. Don�t matter either way.� Diderick waved a hand at the bow and arrows. �You think you�re worthy o� that? �Tis one o� my finest pieces.�

�Would you like another test?�

Diderick ran a finger over the bow�s yew limbs. �Nah, you already did that. What are ye t�use it for?�

Link fought the urge to roll his eyes. �I was told a Wraith had been spotted. I need the bow to expel it.�

�A bow against a Wraith? Hunter ye may be, but even so, arrows aren�t effective.�

A quirked eyebrow was all the surprise Link allowed to show. So the man was more observant than he had given him credit for. Or he was a Hunter himself. �If I fail, what does it matter to you?�

�Spit, but it may end up costin� me that lovely bow.�

�You have my word I�ll defeat the demon.�

Through narrowed eyes, Diderick seemed to consider Link�s offer. �All right, then. We�ve a deal.� He thrust his hand out for Link to shake, and Link obliged, the appendage feeling more like a slab of meat than hand. �Ye can have the bow for free, if ye give me a cut o� the reward.�

Link nodded. �A bargain, in my case, for such a piece of work. Thank you.�

�If ye can rid us o� the Wraith, �tis us need thanking ye.�

A wan smile flitted over Link�s face. Giving the man a nod, he left the quiet, empty shop, exiting into Kakariko�s equally deserted streets. Soft moonlight washed over the land, deepening the shadows that clung to every surface. The heavy scent of rain and ozone filled the air, heralding the approach of a late-summer storm.

Finding a corner, lit by the only working streetlight in town, he immersed himself in the cold glow. Sitting down on the hard ground, he began to prepare the arrowheads, dipping the black iron into Saria�s elixir. The liquid turned the metal a shimmering gray, like starlight reflected on midnight water.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he bound the arrowheads to the newly purchased shafts, making sure the rawhide was pulled tight. Slipping the arrows into the quiver strapped on his back, he strung the bow. Ready, he stood, adjusting the quiver so he could reach the arrows easily and swiftly. Now if I was a Wraith, where would I hide? he mused.

Remembrance from his last visit here brought to mind the image of a graveyard. Kakariko had a small, derelict cemetery at the back edges of its boundaries. An ancient site; no one had been buried within its walls for centuries. Remus, his history teacher, had told him it was the resting ground for loyal servants of the Royal family, a sacred place for the brave to lay their bodies as their souls entered the spirit realm.

A cold, wet wind blew up, bringing with it the first patters of rain. Watching the ground darken with each plop of water, he shivered. He hated cemeteries, always had, always would. When he was a child, he remembered running from rooms at the first hint someone would tell a ghost story. An endless source of shame, the phobia had lessened since his childhood days, but had not left him. Now that I know there are greater, more terrifying things to worry about than the dead, you�d think I�d be over this fear, he thought wryly, his feet starting to eat the distance between him and the graveyard.

At the end of the dirt lane he now walked, the rusting gates of the graveyard blocked any further procession. Weeds poked out from between the iron rails, their grassy heads nodding to the beat of the rain upon them. He doubted anyone had cared for the graveyard since the Cataclysm.

Vaulting over the rickety fence, he landed easily on the hallowed ground. High bluffs made natural walls for the cemetery, their soaring heights hidden by roiling clouds. A small shack stood to his right, once a caretaker�s hut. Judging by the cracked windows and falling roof, no one lived within its confines any longer.

A sharp crack of thunder filled the air, startling him. Idiot, he chided himself. You�re not a little boy anymore. Straightening his shoulders, he drew his coat closer to him, wishing once more that he had remembered to attach a hood to it.

Tombstones filled the plot, some tilting crazily, as if they�d lost all sense of balance, others almost hidden behind the tall weeds. He found what remained of a path that wound its way around the markers, the broken tile barely perceptible though the grass. He followed the path, not willing to risk accidentally stepping on a grave.

He drew an arrow from his sodden quiver, nocking the missile to the string. The Wraith could appear at any moment, and he knew it would. The ghosts were always drawn to the dead, and having a potential victim wandering in their playground was too good an opportunity to pass up.

A pale wash of light flared up, the glow scattered by rain and the skeletal branches of a withered tree. Drawing his bow, Link peered past the sheets of rain, spotting a translucent figure rising from the earth, and he sighed. Only a Poe, not the true quarry he sought. He could feel the ghost�s gaze upon him, the lantern of werelight it held in one hand swaying in the wind. Hiding a shiver, he thought, I hate ghosts, I hate dead things, I hate rain. Who�s bright idea was this, anyway?

Keeping a wary eye on the Poe, he continued his walk around the cemetery. If he caught the attention of the Poe, than the Wraith should follow soon. A sharp sound, brought by the rising wind, reached his ears, and he stopped. Frowning, he strained to catch the noise. It rose up again, the clamor unmistakable.

Link took off in a run, surprising the Poe as he swept past. Vaulting the gate easily, he followed the screams into Kakariko. Seems the Wraith found a more suitable target, he thought grimly.

Bow still in hand and ready to fire, he dashed into a scene of hellish confusion. A building was on fire, the flames low and guttering, thanks to the rain. People milled in the once deserted streets, fear apparent on their fire-lit faces. He saw a familiar form race up to him, and he mounted swiftly. Where is it? he mind-sent to Epona, intent on finding his prey.

It�s taken a boy and a woman, she said, picking up a gallop as soon as he was settled. It�s headed back to the graveyard.

Dammit! he cursed silently. I should�ve stayed there.

No time for regrets. Focus!

Heeding her words, he wrapped his fingers in Epona�s sopping mane. He was used to riding bareback, but the rain made her hide sleek and keeping a seat difficult. Seeing the gate rushing up to meet them, he threw the bow around his neck, and tightened his legs around her girth, body leaning forward in anticipation.

She rose over the fence easily, the distance a mere inconvenience to her. The cemetery was now awash with Poe lanterns, their unholy light adding to the scene before him.

The Wraith, it�s transparent body more like a shadow writhing in agony than any other shape, hovered in the back of the graveyard, two human forms between it and Link�s already nocked arrow. Their faces were hidden by the backlight of Poe lanterns, but he recognized one right away.

Anger colored his thoughts. He fought the urge to charge forward, releasing the demon�s hold on his friend. Epona shifted underneath him, reacting to his churning emotions. Calm yourself, he commanded his mind. You�ll awaken more than you wish if you don�t stop.

Inhaling a deep lungful of moist air, he urged Epona closer to the congregation of spirits. �Let them go,� he said over the pounding of the rain.

The Wraith tipped his head, eerily reminding him of a puppy. While the Poes rarely showed signs of intelligence, that feature was what made the Wraith so deadly.

The demon seemed to size him up, the roiling cloud that composed it like smog cloying in the air. Acting without warning, the Wraith grabbed hold of the young boy�s neck and turned the child�s head to face its own.

Realizing what it planned to do, Link drew back his arrow, sending a silent prayer to any deity willing to listen, and released. The missile flew straight, sinking into the Wraith�s form despite all sense of physics or logic.

The demon howled in pain, releasing its physical and mental hold on its victims. He saw the woman wake up, assessing the situation before she grabbed the boy�s hand and ran. A mother always had a quick reaction time.

Link allowed himself a smile at that fact before focusing back to his task. The arrow had only wounded the Wraith, the shot passing through one of its extremities. The elixir needed to hit a vital area, one where the panacea would have time to abolish the anomaly.

The Poes hovered nearby, unsure of how to act. No one had ever hurt a Wraith before, not in their presence. They were dead, but the human instinct of self-preservation still clung to their beings.

Lacking the Poes� weakness, the Wraith charged it�s enemy, its form lost swiftly once it left the pool of lantern light. Biting back the urge to curse, Link kept his head, waiting for any signs of the Wraith. He heard the warning shout from the woman just before the Wraith wrapped itself around him, the sudden chill that invaded his body stealing his breath.

He vaguely felt Epona dart off in surprise, the attack taking her unexpectedly and leaving him to fall to the earth. His lips quirked in a smile. At least she couldn�t gloat that she had been ready, like the last fight.

The Wraith tightened its hold on his body, the ghoul searching for some opening in his mind, ready to pour its spirit in and replace his. Wraiths hunted their prey like this, finding victims, stealing their souls and replacing them with their own. Then the demon had a body to control, to use in order to find new prey when the body decayed to rotten meat. The demons ate the dead flesh from within, like unholy parasites.

You can have this body if you really want it, he thought bemusedly, his mind not entirely coherent under the onslaught. But you might not like what you get.

The Wraith, spotting the chink in Link�s mental armor, attacked. He bit back a howl of pain as a sense of invasion and wrongness swept his body. He tried to force his hands to work, to shove the arrow into the demon�s form, but his limbs failed to heed him. Panic rose up, the raw emotion sweeping away all sense of thought. Let me go! he howled at the Wraith, his mental cries calling up a part of him he feared more than death. If this continued, all control would be lost.

The Wraith, sensing the beast it was riling, hesitated. Suddenly the demon released its hold, the monster writhing in agony. Link dropped to his knees, breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked up to see the Wraith skewered by one of his arrows, the elixir working perfectly. The demon evaporated into the shadow realm, the used arrow falling to the ground.

Gathering his shaky muscles, he stood slowly. A group of fighters now filled the cemetery as they fought off the remaining Poes. Cavalry finally rode in, he thought dazedly.

Are you uninjured? Quiet concern filled Epona�s words, along with a sense of loss.

Fine, he told her, leaning onto her shoulder. His legs felt like limp noodles. It wasn�t the Wraith that hurt me.

I know, she said, the loss peaking. He could understand her feelings, even if he refused to share them.

Are they all right? he said, motioning to the two victims.

Better than you. Malon�s not happy, but she�ll survive. The boy passed out a while ago, but he�s breathing.

�Seems ironic, doesn�t it? As soon as I accept company, she�s attacked and nearly killed.�

The irony was lost on Epona. I�d like to know where all these people came from. And why didn�t they help earlier?

Link didn�t care. All he wanted was a stiff drink and a chance to sit down. The man from the bar, Tarragorn, entered Link�s field of vision. So this must be the band of Hunters he was talking about, Link mused.

As if hearing his thoughts, the man turned in Link�s direction. Making his way over, Tarragorn said, �You all right, boy?�

Boy? he thought, bristling slightly. �I�m fine, just tired.�

�Amazing that you�d actually take on a Wraith by yourself,� Tarragorn said. �You�d be dead by now if we hadn�t shown up.�

Hardly, Link snorted to himself. A Wraith can�t kill me, but perhaps it�s best if you think so. �Thank you,� he said, swallowing his pride.

Tarragorn nodded his head. �Can�t risk losing more of our kind. You got courage, kid, even if it�s stupid courage.�

Epona laid her ears back, her teeth baring in a look of pure equine disdain. She didn�t appreciate the man�s tone anymore than he did. �Are Malon and the boy all right?� he asked again, for Tarragorn�s sake. He had a feeling Epona wanted to sink her teeth into the bartender.

�Aye, they�re fine, if a little shook up. You want to see them?�

Link nodded, following the man. Epona stayed close to his side, her tail twitching in the dying rain. To think! she yelled. You! An amateur! That�s an insult to me, as well as you!

Hiding a smile, he said to her, I know, but the less they think of us, the better it�ll be. We won�t have another run-in like we did in Azhira.

Damn Gerudos are too suspicious, especially in that town. She sighed, her anger fading. People are so thick.

All the better for us.

�Link!� He looked up to see Malon running towards him. She plowed into him, her arms wrapping around his waist like a vise. He chuckled slightly at her display. She bounces back better than rubber, he thought.

�Are you all right?� she said, worry in her blue eyes.

�Shouldn�t I be asking that?� he said with a tired grin.

�Bah, I�m fine, so�s the kid. I don�t even remember the demon catching me, and I feel the same as usual. But you, you look like a moblin ran over you, backed up and stomped on you again.�

�Love the analogies,� he said. �I�m all right, just tired.�

�You�re lucky you�re even that,� said a voice from behind him, the arrogance and disdain clearly apparent in his tone.

Link didn�t bother to reply, instead giving the new man an assessing gaze. He was tall, his long, red hair caught in a low tail, pushed behind rounded ears. A Gerudo, judging by the dark skin and sharp features. Lithe frame filled with corded muscle, the man was Hunter through and through. �You actually thought you were equal to a Wraith?,� the man sneered.

No, I�m above them, he thought, wisely keeping his words to himself.

Malon did not share his skill of restraint. �Who do you think you are?� she snapped.

�Your savior, Ganondorf,� he said with a mock-bow. �And what a pleasure it was to rescue someone of your beauty and grace.�

Link tightened his hold on Malon, preventing her from striking at the man. �Let�s head back to the inn,� he said to her, hoping to divert her anger.

�Fine,� she ground out, turning away from Ganondorf with difficulty. She gave Link an over-bright smile, saying, �Anything to get away from Mr. Sunshine.�

The corner of his mouth turned up as he steered her out of the cemetery, Epona a silent shadow in their wake. �Do you often turn tail and run at confrontations?� Ganondorf said to their backs.

Link clenched his teeth, the Hunter�s words finding a sore spot. Epona nudged him forward, already sensing his desire to turn back. Ignore the fool, she said. Unless you wish to stir up more than you already have.

Link blinked, surprised by her sensible thoughts. Normally she would be the first to knock the man on his face. Today was certainly an interesting one, that�s for sure, he thought, leaving the cluster of Hunters to sort out their affairs. He planned on falling flat on the mattress as soon as he got to his room at the inn.

Escaping the cemetery and retreating into the haven of Kakariko�s meagerly lit streets, they headed for the only burning lantern on the main road, the sallow light casting deepened shadows over the inn�s brick face. A weathered, decrepit sign hung below the contained flame, the wood proclaiming the inn�s name, the Crimson Peahat. A nonsensical name if he ever saw one, but if the inn had a clean bed, he�d overlook the fact.

After Malon headed inside to get the room numbers, Link made his way to the inn�s back where the stables were located. A thick, high wall of hardened clay surrounded the inn, the structure riddled with cracks, telltale signs of haphazard mason work.

An opening in the wall allowed access to the courtyard behind the inn, and Link led Epona through. Watching his feet sink into the mud with each step he took, he noticed with some alarm at the way he had trouble moving in a straight line. Glaring at his disobedient legs, he forced them to move correctly. You�re more drained than even I thought, Epona said to him as she moved closer to his side.

�Out of practice, I guess,� he said, too tired to keep the conversation internal. If some stable boy happened to see him talking to his mare, than hopefully he�d be labeled a drunk.

And it will cost you your life one day.

�So?�

Epona sighed. Damned fool, she said. Soon she nudged him with her shoulder. Hey, wake up, we�re here.

�Hmm?� He looked up from the ground, somewhat surprised to see the stable before him. I really need to sleep, he thought as he knocked on the closed barn door. Wish I could just walk into a stable like I used to, before all this began.

The door cracked open before widening to reveal a teenaged girl, bits of hay sticking up in her barley-colored hair. �You be needing a stall?� she said, tugging her grimy smock into place.

Link nodded, not bothering to speak. The stable girl reached up to take Epona�s reins, but the mare shied away. �Why must you be so picky?� he muttered to her, grabbing her hackamore. Giving the stable girl a polite smile, he said, �I�ll take care of her, just show me where she can rest.�

She gave Link a wary glance, but allowed him to lead Epona into the stable. The low nickers of sleepy horses greeted the stable girl�s approach. The peaceful calls soon turned into apprehensive snorts, the animals�s restive movements becoming increasingly apparent. Why can things never be easy? Link thought, trying his best to ignore them.

The girl showed them to a stall in back, perhaps sensing, like her charges, that all would be happier if Epona was far from the rest. She hovered nearby, ready to show Link the location of grain or other implements to be used in settling Epona in. Link went through the motions in a daze, a fog of exhaustion clouding his mind. �There you go,� he said to Epona once he finished, giving the chestnut mare a pat.

He didn�t know if she said goodnight or not, but he didn�t wait to be sure. Turning away, he found the stable girl right before him, her cautious eyes focused intently on him. �You won�t hurt my friends,� she said to him, referring to the horses in her care.

Link nodded. �I promise.� He wasn�t startled to hear her speak those words. The girl seemed to possess the instinctive skills of her equine companions, or had heeded the animals�s warnings.

Satisfied with his reply, she left him to his own devices, probably to head back to her bed in the hayloft. Amused and a little pleased by the girl�s trust that he would keep his word, he left the stable, his mind bent on the thought of a soft bed and long rest.

How he got to his lodging, he couldn�t recall, but suddenly he was standing in an empty, unlit room, a key in his hand. Not in the mood to question how he got there, exhaustion probably the culprit, he set the key on the bureau beside the door. The wooden floor creaked under his weight as he walked to the inviting bed, a wan shaft of moonlight peeping through the window to light the way as best it could.

I don�t care if it�s clean anymore, he thought, stripping of his dirty shirt and letting it drop to the floor. I just want to sleep. Sitting on the bed�s edge, he kicked off his boots and fell onto the mattress halfway, the woolen quilt itching his back. No matter how many times I sleep in a bed, I�ll never take it for granted again, he thought, stretching luxuriantly.

Forcing his body to move, he sat up and moved to the head of the rather large bed. Large to his standards, anyway.

Peeling back the covers, he settled under the blankets, letting out a blissful sigh as his head rested on the soft pillow. Exhaustion hit him like Goron hammer, and he felt sleep begin to overtake him when an arm flopped over his side, followed by a warm body snuggling against him.

He froze, all trace of fatigue gone by a surge of adrenaline and embarrassment. He heard a distinctly female voice murmur into his back, her breath alternately warming and cooling his skin. Goddesses, what now? he yelped internally. Seeing only two choices: to either stay in the bed with this unknown woman, who most likely had a jealous and rather large husband, or try to sneak away before he was noticed, he decided the latter was a more appealing choice.

Edging slowly away from the sleeping form, he held his breath, praying to the goddesses that the woman would stay asleep. The mattress groaned from his shifting weight, and he paused, hoping with all his might that the noise didn�t affect her.

Silence ensued, followed by a deep exhalation. Link let out a silent breath and continued to pull free. He had almost completely untangled himself from her embrace and was beginning to slip from the bed, when his knee hit the nightstand, the hardened oak sending a lance of pain shooting through his leg. He swore vehemently before he could stop himself, and he froze, one hand clasped over his mouth, the other rubbing his throbbing kneecap.

The bedroom remained quiet, to his disbelief, but he was never one to let an opportunity slip past. He stood up, favoring his leg while silently swearing every oath he knew at the wooden culprit. He was making his way to the door when something hit him, his assailant cloaked by the darkness, the moon unable to penetrate this far into the room.

An aching jaw adding to his pains, he reeled backwards and tripped over the bed, falling onto the mattress. If Epona could see me now, she�d be laughing herself hoarse, no pun intended, he thought ruefully. Before he could further contemplate how the mare would take to his being caught so off guard, a warm body fell onto him, most likely victim to the same demonic nightstand. He planned on burning the thing when he had the chance.

Pushing away the pummeling hands, Link caught the slender wrists in a tight grip, trying to save his body from more harm. The setting moon, as if to make up for its lack of aid before, peered out from behind a tattered cloud, the pale glow giving Malon�s face an undead hue. Or perhaps that was her doing as her mouth hung open in astonishment, her eyes widened further than he had ever seen.

�Well, this is unexpected,� he said, trying to break the tension.

�What in the dark realm are you doing in here?�

�I had the key, I assumed this was my room,� he said as he released her wrists. �It was a bit of a shock to find it came with a complimentary female.�

She smacked him on the head. �Pervert.� Pulling away, she found the bedside candle and lit it. The sputtering tallow added a warm cast to the weak moonlight. �What now?� Malon said, self-consciously folding her arms over her chest. Her nightdress was a simple shift of cotton, and not in the least revealing, but he doubted that mattered to her.

�The keeper�s not awake at this candlemark,� said Link, keeping his eyes off her. �If it�s all right with you, I�ll steal a blanket and sleep on the floor.�

�And make me feel guilty for keeping the bed.�
�You had it first.�

�Well I don�t want to put you out,� she said.

�What�s your solution, then, oh wise sage?�
�You take the bed. You�re the one who�s the most tired and in need of sleep.�

Link sighed. �I can�t do that for the same reason you gave.�

Malon flopped onto the bed. �This is getting us nowhere.�

�We could both sleep on the floor,� he suggested with a grin.

She gave him a sideways glare that was overtaken by a deep blush. That was one trait he loved about her, the way she�d turn the same shade as her hair. She hated it, saying it made her look like a tomato, but he found it endearing. �We could share the bed, if you don�t mind,� she said softly.

�What�s that?� Link said, trying to stifle a smile.

�I said we could share the bed.�

�What?�

�You insufferable peahat! You heard what I said.�

Link grinned. �That�ll work, and never fear, virtuous maiden. Your honor is safe with me.�

�Perish the thought,� she said, tossing a pillow at his head.

He caught it and kept hold, ready to use it as a shield if more missiles flew. None came, and deeming it safe, he sat on the far side, Malon perching on the other. For a moment both hesitated, unsure of what to do next.

Taking a deep breath, Malon plunged under the covers, keeping as far to the edge as possible. Link followed suit, half uncomfortable and half amused by their actions. A long silence ensued before Malon let out a sigh and burrowed into her pillow. ��Night Link,� she mumbled into her blankets, her voice thick with sleep.

��Night,� he said, his eyes on the falling moon outside his window. Perhaps having Malon along wasn�t as catastrophic an idea as he first thought.

Though you should build a bark of dead man�s bones,

And rear a phantom gibbet for a mast,

Stitch creeds together for a sail, with groans

To fill it out, bloodstained and aghast;

Although your rudder be a Dragon�s tail,

Long sever�d, yet still hard with agony,

Your cordage large uprootings from the skull

Of bald Medusa: certes you would fail

To find the Melancholy, whether she

Dreameth in any isle of Lethe dull

The defiant scream of a hawk echoed upon the gorge walls, the sound filling the air like a cry for war. Link traced the raptor�s flight with his eyes, the lazy soaring at odds to its fierce call. He envied the wild creature who could depart any time it chose, just pick up and leave all its cares behind it. Human beings aren�t as lucky, he thought, watching the hawk disappear into a forest on the other side.

Turning away from the canyon�s precipice, he started back on the mountain trail, Death Mountain�s pinnacle a looming presence beside him. He still had no sure idea of where to go now that his business was done here, though Malon did not know that. While she wandered through the streets of Kakariko, assuaging her immense curiosity, he had decided to walk up the mountain path that connected the Goron village to Kakariko, hoping some form of inspiration would strike.

He kicked at a loose pebble, knocking the stone off the trail and into the immense canyon. Listening to its fading echoes, he scanned the forested bottom. The fissure stretched for miles, its only known terminus at the border where Kakariko abutted Death Mountain. Myth claimed the split in the earth was a show of Din�s power, that the goddess gently placed her hand upon the ground and tore it asunder, the act also throwing up Death Mountain. Why the goddess would do such or thing was never discussed in the tale. No one expected a deity to have a reason, something Link had never fully understood. Why were people not allowed to question the thoughts of a god?

Not a problem you should focus on, he told himself. Where should we go? Even after all these years, I still haven�t found an answer or even a reason for my questions. I feel like I�ve accomplished nothing, and perhaps I have. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of these thoughts. �This is why Epona hates to leave you alone,� he muttered to himself. Stiffening at a sudden presence, he said, �What do you want?�

�Tarragorn had something to say to you, though why he�d need to discuss anything with an amateur is beyond me.�

Link ignored Ganondorf�s barb. �What about?�

�You�ll find out when you get there.�

Fighting the urge to smack the Hunter upside the head, Link swept past him. Perhaps this new situation would bring the answer he sought.

Ganondorf led him to Diderick�s shop. Why am I not surprised to be back here? Link thought, hiding a small grin. I wonder if he still considers our trade equal.

Inside the cramped store, they made their way to the backroom Link had seen on his first visit. The room was much larger than the small storefront led one to believe, with chairs arranged all over the stone floor. Lamps kept the place lit, the bitter smelling fuel smoking in its chambers.

The Hunters from the previous night looked up, eyes wary and watchful, like a crouching Wolfos. Tarragorn, who faced the group, smiled when he saw Link beside Ganondorf. �Wonderful,� he said. �Now we can get started.�

�What is this about?� Link said.

�If you�ll sit down, I will tell everyone.�

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Link settled into an empty chair, the beaten wood creaking ominously as it bore his weight. Tarragorn retook his place before them. �Since the Cataclysm we, the Hunters, have sworn to defend Hyrule and its allies against the fiends that have arisen. While we have been successful in destroying the enemies we�ve faced, there has been one monster that has eluded our grasp.

�Death Riders, the ultimate bane on this world, have been unstoppable. All one can hope for is escape if one is unlucky enough to face those demons. While we have some idea of what the monsters do, be they human or otherwise, the origins of these beasts have been as hidden as the one who caused the Cataclysm in the first place.

�What this all leads to, is that we believe that the Death Riders may have some clue to the one who caused the Cataclysm. If we�re able to catch one, then we can learn why these events have happened, and learn a way to defeat these unholy devils.�

A heavy silence hung over the room, the weight of Tarragorn�s words resounding through their minds. �And how do you plan to lure or restrain a Death Rider?� said a small woman near Link, her corded arms knotted with tension.

Tarragorn�s lip quirked in a semblance of a smile. �We were able to capture its beast, one of the demons they ride. And let me tell you now, the creature is as real as you and me, and just as capable of feeling pain.�

Link wondered how they happened to find that last tidbit out. A man from back said, �But that doesn�t explain how we could possibly control one of those things. They�ve killed men like they were less than nothing to them, and with such ease. They�re murdering devils sent from the Dark Realm, how can we stand against that?�

�That�s where our new weapon comes in.� Link looked up in surprise to see Ganondorf stand, his face as intent as his words. �It was discovered in the ruins of the temple in Castleton. A secret chamber had been blasted open by the Cataclysm and this was revealed.� As he spoke, he unsheathed the sword at his waist. The honed steel shone light-blue, reminding Link of the marble chunks that decorated the old temple grounds. The worn hilt of the broadsword showed signs of abuse far exceeding the almost pristine condition of the blade. While the handle looked as if it had gone to the Dark Realm and back, the blade appeared newly forged.

�How will that help us?� spoke a man, his scarred face eyeing the sword skeptically.

Ganondorf smiled. �Because this sword is more than it appears to be.�

Link raised his eyebrows at that. He doubted he could count the times he had heard someone speak in similar terms. Everyone desperately sought some way of defeating the Death Riders, and each time had ended in failure. The continued existence of the demons was proof.

The others shared his doubts. �What makes it so different?� said a hooded figure to Link�s right.

�We believe it is the legendary sword of the Hero,� Tarragorn said. �It was found in the right place, in the ruins of the Temple of Time.�

The sword of the Hero? The one who defeated the evil necromancer and saved the realm of Hyrule? That was pure myth. These two have been to the taverns one too many a time, Link thought.

�Perhaps you may believe so,� said the cloaked person. �But I don�t perceive that many will follow you on just your word.�

Many nodded in agreement. Ganondorf scowled, but Tarragorn said, �What difference does it make, whether we speak the truth or not? These abominations must be stopped; they�re destroying our people. If there�s a chance that we can kill one of them, isn�t it worth all our lives?�

Grim silence met his words as the Hunters mulled over his speech. In truth, Tarragorn was right. Every time someone tried to rebuild the capital cities, or tried to establish some semblance of government, the Death Riders swooped in like hideous birds of prey and laid siege to everything in sight. If Hyrule or her allies ever planned on bringing back order to the people, the Death Riders must be stopped. Link fought the urge to rub his aching forehead.

�What say you?� Tarragorn said, after giving them a moment to think.

Uneasy shifting filled the room until the hooded person stood up. �This may be a fool�s mission, and we may end up worse than dead for our troubles, but I�m in.�

The flicker of a satisfied grin flashed over Tarragorn�s face, but he swiftly masked the emotion. It was still too soon to celebrate.

As if the shrouded figure released a floodgate, voices filled the room, each risen in assent. The Hunters, more so than normal folk, understood the suffering of the people. They witnessed it in all their travels and hunts. They knew what was at stake and were willing to give their lives to pay for the price of the people�s happiness.

�What about you?� Link heard Ganondorf ask him, the Gerudo�s words laced with pride and scorn.

Link looked to see Tarragorn watch him, as if his response was one the man wanted to know above all others. �I�m in,� he said, meeting Ganondorf�s stare fully. �When do we leave?�
�Tomorrow at dawn,� Tarragorn said, relief washing over his face. �We�ll meet at the town�s entrance and leave as soon as everyone�s there.�

Link nodded and rose, ready to find Malon and talk to Epona. Both would be surprised at the turn of events, but he dreaded Epona�s reaction the most. �I�ll be astonished if I see you tomorrow,� Ganondorf said, his amber gaze hot on Link�s back.

�If you don�t show up; you won�t,� he said without turning around. He didn�t think the Gerudo would appreciate the smirk he wore.

On one side was silver-studded darkness, eternal rest. On the other, light stained crimson red, the primordial color of life, passion, hate. The soft call of a mourning dove contrasted against the shrill cries of the jays, their mocking song making light of all that would transpose today.

Link adjusted Epona�s cinch, making sure the leather strap was snug. He could feel the mare�s sullen presence, a brooding, heavy weight in his mind. She had not taken the news well.

Malon�s gentle voice rose above the bird song. She was comforting her mount as she saddled him, the roan gelding agitated by the unusually early rising. In contrast to Epona, Malon had been overjoyed by his decision. The fact that she had no way of comprehending a Death Rider, and her desire to see more of the world probably had something to do with that.

�Ready?� said Link.

�Right behind you,� Malon said, twitching Phooka�s reins over his head.

Link double-checked that their packs were tied on securely. Assured that they would not loose any gear on the trip, he mounted, Malon following suit, leaving the inn�s courtyard.

They made their way easily to the meeting place, the dirt streets devoid of all life. At the town�s gates, a large group of Hunters were waiting. Link kept Epona away from the crowd, and for once the mare did not object.

Malon kept turning her head about, like cat watching a toy dance before its eyes. Link grinned at the analogy, and Malon seeing, smiled back. �You don�t think they�ll mind me coming along?� she said for the hundredth time.

�They won�t if they want me along.�

�Perhaps we don�t.� Ganondorf sat upon a gray mare, the Gerudo breed showing off her sleek lines with every delicate step and flip of her flowing mane. Funny, but he had always pictured Ganondorf on a black mount.

Tarragorn, beside him on a bay, gave Ganondorf a sharp glance. �Of course we don�t mind,� he said. Turning away, he rode through the crowd to the head. �Are we ready to move out?�

A resounding chorus of agreement filled the early morning air, startling a group of starlings from their tree perch. �Then let�s move out!� Tarragorn said. The congregation followed his lead, leaving behind the relative safety of Kakariko into the wilds of Hyrule Field.

�Where are we headed to?� Malon said, reigning Phooka in, allowing the other horses to pass.

�Hylia,� he said, adjusting his seat as Epona set forward, following at the rear. �They claim that the Death Rider�s mount�s held there.�

Epona laid her ears back and he felt her tense up underneath him. Easy, he told her. No use getting worked up now. Epona remained silent.

�How can they restrain something that evil?�

�That�s what I�d like to know.�

* * *

A steady rain pelted their bodies, plastering their clothing to their chilled skins. A dense fog covered the spongy ground, filling the hollows of the land and rising up to creep stealthily over the hills. The lack of tree cover ensured that every inch left exposed was soaked the moment they had stepped from their tents that morning. Link tried to remember what it was like to feel dry, and failed.

�You�d think when they said waterproof cloaks, they�d actually be waterproof,� Malon griped, Phooka looking like a drowned kelpie beneath her.

�But that�d make sense,� Link said. �Who�d want do that?�

Malon gave him a look, before her scowl melted into a smile. �Maybe if we figured that out, we�d know everything.�

Link snorted and was about to speak when Epona stopped. I can feel him, she said, her head facing the city they were walking towards, the main group of Hunters backlit by the lamps on the city gates.

So do I, Link told her.

What do we do? Epona said, her ears flattening out. He�s in pain.

I know. We can�t do anything, not yet.

He felt the surge of rage in her mind before she stifled it. Understanding her emotions, he could only stroke her rain-soaked hide, trying to placate her roiling thoughts. They couldn�t afford to go to pieces now, not with Hylia so close.

�You all right?�

�Huh?� He looked up to see Malon watching him curiously.

�You do that often,� she said.

�Do what?�

�Get all quiet suddenly, and sort of stare off into nothing, like you�re listening to a song in your mind, something only you can hear.�

�I�m just spacey,� he said with a grin, hiding the stab of fear that rose up.

Malon smiled wryly, as if she didn�t believe his words but was willing to let it slide this once. �What do you think a Death Rider looks like?� she said, switching topics.

If only you knew, he thought. �Not really sure. Some say they look like devils in cloaks, their beast mounts like fire-eyed fiends from the Dark Realm. Others, the sober ones, say they look like hooded forms. No one�s ever gotten close to them and lived to tell about it. Well, mostly no one,� he amended, thinking of Kafei.

�Lovely,� Malon said. �Something to look forward to after a grueling day on the trail.�

Letting out a bitter laugh, Link said, �But we don�t have to worry about the Rider, at least not yet.�

�Until we get to the place they�ve got the beast held, let�s think of something more pleasant.�

�Agreed.�

By true nightfall, not the preternatural twilight they had rode in the whole day, they arrived at Hylia, the city that bordered on Lake Hylia. Once a bustling port town, where its capital came mainly from seasonal tourists and the fishermen who trolled the waters, the city still managed to survive. The remaining people lived off the water, using the precious liquid and its inhabitants to keep their families fed. Hylia was the one place Link had visited that still had some semblance of law in its walls, the people doing their best to restore their lives back to normal.

Perhaps that�s why the Death Rider chose here, Link thought. This is the last bastion against total madness, the last stronghold people have.

He could feel the weight of their eyes upon them as the city folk watched the Hunters pass through their cobbled streets. He hoped, and perhaps he prayed, too, that whatever transposed tonight would not destroy the tremulous hold on sanity this town had gained.

The sound of Lake Hylia grew louder, the crashing of the waves booming against the many docks, the boats moored to them threatening to break free. Set apart from the main body of the city, close to the water, was a small house, its every window brightly lit. The building rose two stories, its narrow girth tilted crazily, as if it wanted to topple into the water beside it.

Tarragorn shouted orders, his deep bass rumble barely perceptible over the roar of the storm. Hunters scattered at his words, no doubt off to various posts to keep watch for the arrival of their guest. Some remained, and when Tarragorn got to them, Link knew they would be staying as well. �We want you to come inside with us,� Tarragorn shouted over the wailing wind.

Link nodded, then motioned to the horses. �There�s a lean-to they can use for cover for now,� Tarragorn said. The man turned his mount away, heading for the shelter. Malon and he followed.

After the animals and Epona were taken care of, the Hunters entered the unsteady home. Inside a blazing fire popped and growled in the hearth, the entire bottom floor one room. Beside the fire a table stood, various bottles and beaker of glass bubbling with indeterminate liquid set on its stained surface. Bookshelves lined the walls, every inch of them filled with tomes of all shapes and sizes, some in languages Link had never seen before. Papers lay scattered over the ground and on the few chairs that decorated the room, giving the place a feel as if a small tornado had whipped through.

�Ah, welcome,� greeted a small man beside the table, his skin like milk, as if he�d never felt the sun�s golden touch upon his face. His thick glasses distorted his eyes, making him appear like a giant fly, and the robes he wore were stained with ink. Link had never laid eyes on someone like him before.

�Is everything ready?� Tarragorn said, the eager light in his eyes heightened by the fire�s glow.

�Yes, yes,� the gnome said. �I�m ready to start whenever you are.�

Tarragorn nodded, then turned to them. He motioned Ganondorf over, whispering something into the Gerudo�s ear. Ganondorf nodded, and followed the small man from the room. Link wondered what they had planned.

�The Professor has agreed to let us use his house,� Tarragorn said. �At this moment, the beast is located behind this building, in a shed. Once the Professor is prepared, we�ll let the monster out and hope it calls its master.

�I want you people to be the main defense,� he said, pointing at the five of them. Link saw that the hooded figure was with them.

Most gave their assent. Others readied their weapons, making sure they were loose in their sheathes. �If you don�t want to be here, tell me,� Link said, hoping he could convince Malon to go to a safer place.

Malon, albeit paler than before, only shook her head. �I�m staying.�

He knew better than to argue. Soon the Professor returned, sans Ganondorf, and they followed the sallow man back outside, to a spot behind the house where the water crashed against the bluff, rising up and stretching its white fingers forward as if it wanted to pull the house into its blue womb.

A hastily made shed stood between the house and the water. A small lamp hung over the door, its light barely perceptible in the gloom. Inside, Ganondorf stood beside a hulking silhouette, the outlines of chains and ropes visible. Link caught the scent of animal and blood and swallowed the urge to vomit.

�It�s been quiet,� Ganondorf said, motioning to the creature.

�What�s it look like?� Malon whispered in his ear.

�The sight is too grisly for one such as yourself to see,� the Professor said, his high falsetto squeaking occasionally.

Malon bristled at his words, but she remained quiet. Link had the feeling the sight was inappropriate because of the torture the creature went through.

�What now?� said the shrouded figure.

�We�ll release the monster�s bonds, some of them, and give it a reason to call for its master,� Ganondorf said, the smile on his face reminiscent of death.

Tarragon, Ganondorf, and a burly man with a long bow strapped to his back cautiously stepped forward, edging closer to the silent creature. As they began to remove its bonds, it remained still and watchful.

Leaving on ties to the animal�s head and forelegs, they led the creature from the shed and into the chaotic night. As the animal passed him, Link felt the being�s eyes focus on him. He could sense something rise in response to the animal�s silent thoughts, and he fought to batter it down. He couldn�t risk loosing control, not here.

�Now,� said Ganondorf to the creature, its form reminiscent of a deer, or elk in the dim light. �We make you scream.�

�Something tells me he�s going to like this,� whispered a voice in his ear. He saw the cloaked figure beside him. �And that same something tells me you will not.�

Link gave the person a measuring look, wondering what they wanted. �Perhaps this night will be more interesting than I first thought,� the figure continued before moving away.

Trying to puzzle the cryptic words was impossible over the sound of the tortured beast�s cries. Link closed his ears and his heart to the sound. He saw Malon�s face, and knew that the moisture on her cheeks was more than rain.

A startled yell rose over the failing wind, the rain falling to the earth instead of driving into the sides of buildings. Link instantly knew the source of the shout and he turned back to the terrible spectacle. Epona had knocked Ganondorf and Tarragorn away from the beaten animal, barricading the way with her body.

What do you think you�re doing?! he yelled to her as he raced over.

I couldn�t take it anymore! The mental anguish nearly broke his heart. I won�t let this go on, I can�t. He�s dying.

�Damned beast, what do you think you�re doing?!� Ganondorf growled, pulling himself off the muddy ground. He raised the whip he held in one hand, and stopped when he felt the sharp point of Link�s sword in his back. �Drop it if you wish to live,� Link said softly, his voice clearly audible over the rain.

�What in the Dark Realm are you doing?�

�Preventing you from harming my mare.�

�She�s protecting the demon beast!�

�She�s got a soft heart. Now drop it.�

Ganondorf finally complied, letting all his instruments fall. Facing Link, he said, �If this plan fails because of you, you�re head is mine.�

Link shrugged his shoulders as he pulled the sword away from Ganondorf. He didn�t care about any threats the angered man made. Turning his back on the Gerudo, Link walked to Epona. The things I do for you, horse, he said.

It�s why I love you, she replied, her voice still laced with traces of anger and pain.

Looking over Epona�s shoulder, he saw the animal watching him, its intelligent eyes burning with an inner light that reminded Link of Death Mountain�s fires. He comes, he heard Epona say in his mind, a pitch of excitement and fervor replacing the tension.

The dark animal tossed its head and let out a piercing scream of defiance and rage. The sound, bourn by the wind, carried over the city, freezing the blood of all who heard it.

In response to the clarion call, a figure coalesced into existence beside the creature. The unholy light it shed illuminated the scene, throwing everything into stark relief, revealing the creature to have the form of a horse, a giant one with blood stains over its ebony hide.

The Death Rider walked to its mount, taking the creature�s head in its hands, caressing it lovingly. The horse answered with soft nickers, comforted by its master�s presence.

Turning away from its mount, the Death Rider faced the Hunters, the menace it emanated palpable. It strode forward, pausing when it reached Link. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Link heard the Death Rider say, It is good to see you, brother . Perhaps tonight shall be like old times once more.

Link didn�t see the Death Rider move on, didn�t hear the fearful shouts of the Hunters as the demon neared. All he could sense, all he could feel, see, hear, was the pounding of his blood, and the stirring of a beast he had hoped he could keep locked away forever.

NO! I have to keep it under control! He gritted his teeth. Sweat poured off of him in rivers, enhanced by the rain. Epona whinnied as Link collapsed to the ground, his stomach and mind churning with wanting to be released. His eyes started to roll back into his head as the thing inside of him begged for release. He could vaguely hear his name being screamed. Malon, probably. There was only one way to end the creature�s attempts for release; Link had resorted to it from time to time. Pain is the only thing that would make it end. Link drew his boot dagger and plunged it into his leg, gasping with releif as the creature backed off inside his mind. Then, Link was coherent, rain cascading around him, Malon weeping beside him, and the Dark Rider hovering over him, everyone else killed in the stable. The horses were screaming in fright, and the sound grated on Link�s ears.

You can give in, you know. The Dark Rider hissed. Link breathed in, Malon effectively passed out beside him.

I know I could, but that would be a waste. There are already enough Dark Riders in the world. Link bit back at him, hand clamped over the wound in his leg.

The Dark Rider shrugged. You will have to make a decision one day, and I will be waiting. He walked over to his mount, and rode off, throwing a thought behind him. The health of your family and friends may depend on it.

Link stiffened, then groaned as a new wave of pain enveloped him. He got to his feet, blood flowing down his leg, he had cut a bit deeper that he thought. Oh, well, it got the job done, and it�s not like he was going to die anytime soon. He stooped to pick up Malon.

I am so glad she only weighs 120 pounds. I can�t take much more. He thought. He carried her out of the shed, Epona following, and as the rain poured even harder, he looked up at the bright moon. Sometimes, giving up is easier, but I won�t. Just like the rain keeps pouring, I�ll keep on living.

Link�s leg gave way as he went up the stairs to the Inn. He almost dropped Malon on her head, but she was almost awake. He shook her as he sat on the stairs, holding his leg. Her eyes popped open, then shut from the rain. She got in a sitting position and saw him. Her eyes widened, her hair in strings.

�Link! You�re hurt! Why did you stab yourself? What happened to the Rider?� She asked as she helped him up.

He gritted his teeth. �In the morning, Malon, and I�ll explain everything. I promise. No catch.� Link stumbled to his room, leaving a dumbfounded Malon behind. Now his secret would be out. Maybe it was for the best, though. It would be nice to finally be able to tell someone about it. Link looked down at his leg, the bleeding still going. He reached his room and found some cloth to use as a bandage. Man. It really hurt. But that was the point. Link collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion wasting his body. Sleep sounds good right about now. He closed his eyes.

There was a consistent pounding on his door. He groaned. It was much too early to wake up. He looked through his bedside window. A false dawn shone through the window. He groaned again and stuffed his face into the pillow, trying to drown out the pounding on the door. Then someone called to him.

�Link! Get up! I need help!�

It was Malon. In trouble. Link sprang to his feet, making sure he had his pants on, and ran to the door. Flinging it open, a bloodied Malon deposited herself in his arms, grabbing at him. Link�s leg wasn�t quite ready for the extra weight, and he collapsed on the floor, grunting as his leg went under him.

�Malon! What happened?!� He asked the crying figure.

�Oh, Link! It was awful! I went downstairs and everyone was beheaded, blood everywhere! It...it...� She burst into tears once more, not able to finish her sentence. Link closed his eyes and held her as she cried. After a few minutes, he heard that she had literally cried herself to sleep. He gently picked her up, ready for the weight this time, and put her on the bed.

Link grabbed his sword and shield, not bothering to put on a shirt, and went downstairs to investigate. Malon was right. Everyone in the place was beheaded. But Malon had failed to mention one thing. Maybe she hadn�t seen it, which was a good thing. When Link felt something drop on him, he looked up. And promptly threw up.

Heads hung from the ceiling, dropping blood like trees after a slight rain shower. Link scrambled backwards to get out of the room. He shuddered in the hallway around the corner. The smell was excruciatingly familiar as well. The smell of blood. Link had smelled it in his adventures across the land. He had smelt his enemies blood, and even his own, many, many times. Link shuddered once again, and leaned against the wall, trying to block out what he had seen in the room beyond.

He dropped his sword and shield on the wooden floors, and buried his face in his hands. Sliding down the wall, Link gave into his emotions, and cried. He cried for the people he couldn�t save. He cried for Malon, who was so innocent, and had never seen anything like this. He cried for Hyrule. His land. The land that was so corrupted by evil. But he never cried for himself. Never. It was shameful to cry for himself. It was called feeling sorry for yourself. And Link never did that. He had found it was useless to feel sorry for one�s self. So, he had stopped it.

Link leaned his head against the wall, breathing deep. He coughed. He had forgotten about the smell. Suddenly, he couldn�t stop coughing. He leaned forward and coughed. The smell...he had to get away from it. Link picked up his equipment and headed up the stairs toward his room. As he reached it, Malon stepped out, looking a bit groggy from the unintended nap. She sobbed a breath as she saw Link.

�It�s ok, Malon.� Link reassured her. Malon shook her head.

�I don�t want to go back through that room and see that again. Is there another way out of here?� Malon asked hopefully.

Link shook his head. �No, Malon. There isn�t. But I can blindfold you and lead you out of here. Would that be ok?�

Malon sniffed and nodded. Link reached for her chin and brought it up for her to look at him. �Hey, you�re safe now. Everything is going to be ok. Trust me.�

Malon nodded. �Ok, Link.�

Link went into his room and grabbed the curtains and sliced a strip off with his dagger. Malon stood still as he blindfolded her eyes. She took his hand and he led her down the stairs and into the room full of carnage. Malon snorted at the smell. Then, she noticed something.

�Link....what�s that dropping on me?� She looked up, even though she couldn�t see anything.

Link yanked her head back down. �Don�t worry about it.�

Reaching the front door, Link slowly opened it, expecting exactly what he saw. Bodies littered the grass in front of the Inn. Headless bodies. What was with the fetish with heads? Malon started to take her blindfold off, but Link stopped her.

�Wait just a few minutes, Malon.� She obeyed him.

Link was disquieted by what he might find in the stables. No sounds of horses reached his ears, and he looked up and down the aisles for Epona. A single whinny reached his ears, along with a thought.

Link! About time you got here! Get me out of this stable now! Epona spoke to him.

Link ran to her stall, passing by other horses� stalls along the way. He stopped to look in them, and this time, did throw up. The horses were mutilated, their bodies chopped up like fresh meat. The smell was excruciating, assaulting his nose. He threw up again, and Epona snorted. I�m sorry, Epona. He thought.

It�s okay, I would probably do the same thing if I had the ability to do so. She answered, and he cracked a smile.

Yeah, lucky thing. The stables aren�t nearly as bad as the house, though.

--submitted by gradiate

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