Chapter 2

When Link awoke, he found himself in utter darkness, his head throbbing from the bruise left where the guards had struck him. The floor he lay upon felt like stone: cold, hard and damp. A putrid smell invaded his nostrils, like the rot of decaying flesh, and it took him some effort to keep from vomiting outright.

He sat up in the darkness and began to grope around blindly for anything at all. Crawling on his knees with his hands held out in front of him, Link made it about four feet before grasping the cool metal of jail cell bars. An empty hopelessness rose in his chest, but he chided himself for it. What else had he expected? The guards had finally got him and likely the next time he saw the sun would be his last.

Defiantly, he rose to his feet, and began walking himself along the walls of his cell, creating a perimeter in his mind. It was not a large cell: About eight feet wide by ten feet long, shaped like a rectangle, with one wall of metal bars and three of solid stone. On the barred wall, Link had found a door, secured tight with a lock which felt sturdy and heavy, and had no key hole Link could find. The bars were spaced just enough that Link could thrust his arm between them, but when he reached into the empty darkness all that he could grasp was air.

"Hey! Hey, anyone there?!"

His echo was the only response.

Link dropped back on the hard stone floor, feeling defeated. He had no choice but to sit and wait. The prospect was simultaneously frustrating and horrifying. How could he just lay there, helpless, and wait to be killed? His mind was racing desperately for some un-thought of course of action, some alternative to waiting calmly for his own death. He paced back and forth, pulled vainly at the bars, pried his fingers in the cracks between the stones, but nothing did any good. Finally, he let out a hoarse and pitiful scream, somewhere between rage and heartbreak, and collapsed to the floor once more.

For a long while he lay in the darkness, listening to his own ragged breaths, thin streams of tears rolling silently down the sides of his face. It wasn't fair. He had never wanted to die alone in such a miserable place. His only crime was feeding himself, something he had no choice about if he didn't want to die. In the end, it all amounted to the same thing anyway. How cruel could life be to a mere boy?

He couldn't tell if it had been minutes or hours, but suddenly a sound broke the deep, dark silence. There was a metallic scraping; the clink of tumblers locking into place, and the unmistakable whine of un-oiled metal hinges swinging open.

"Who's there?"

Link sat up and peered into the darkness, but the pitch was absolute, and he couldn't see his own hands let alone anyone who might be coming into his cell. He waited expectantly, his heart racing, images of stalking, nightmare creatures swirling in the blackness all around him. Several minutes passed, and though he drew up all his courage to face the very worst, something Link did not expect happened… nothing at all.

Fed up with the monotony of waiting, Link got to his feet and stumbled through the darkness with his hands held out in front of him like a re-dead groping for an unseen victim. He caught the bars of his cell, and going hand over hand, sidled along them as if they were a ladder, until he came to the place the door should have been.

Link fell forward into the darkness. The cell door was not there! He scraped his knee a bit as he hit the floor, but he didn't care. He was out! Someone or something had let him out! He had no clue where he was or how to find his way back to the outside, but anything beat being stuck in that miserable cell waiting for his own doom. He got back to his feet and began to probe the darkness with his zombie-stretched arms, feeling his way along the walls like a blind man.

He seemed to be in a hallway, about five feet across. Directly across from his cell was another solid stone wall, but to the left and right the darkness gaped on for indeterminate distances. He would have to simply pick at random. Link recalled hearing somewhere that caves and dungeons had a kind of breath to them, a way to keep the air fresh and pure. The rule was, as he recalled it, if the interior of the cave was cooler than the air outside, the change in temperature would force air to flow out of the cave. Link felt the moisture soaked into his tunic and the chill of the sunless dungeon and decided that, even if it were night outside, the summer air of Hyrule Castle Town must be warmer than the air in his dark prison. He licked the tip of his finger and stuck it up into the air like a weathervane.

The faintest of breezes touched his hand, and he felt reasonably certain that it was flowing down the right hand passage. It was as good a plan as any. Renewed hope burning bright within his youthful heart, he furrowed his brow and trudged bravely into the unknown darkness.

It was a long and anxious journey through the blind dungeon; his only ally his sense of touch, and his mind finding fantastic horrors to replace the all-consuming silence. Had he imagined the skittering of a rat across the ground? Was that someone else's breathing, or his own? He feared he might go mad before he ever found an exit. Sometimes the path would turn ninety degrees, and sometimes he'd come to places where the maze of darkness split off in four directions, and he'd have to lick his finger and hope he'd remembered right the old Goron trick of breathing caves. Occasionally, the stones in the floor were skewed or damaged, and his foot would catch one wrong and he would fall painfully on the unforgiving ground. Link was a determined boy though, and, despite being bruised and battered and tired and cold and hungry, he kept on. It might have been hours of stumbling through that bleak darkness, but finally he came to a place where in the distance the light of some remote flame flickered.

At first he was sure it was just a trick of the shadows, a mere hallucination to accompany the horrible imagined sounds which had plagued him, but as he neared it something in the way the fire danced made it seem real. He quickened his pace, fighting the urge to laugh with joy at the sight of warmth and light for fear of giving himself away to anyone who might be near enough to hear him. Eventually, the fire was bright enough that he could see the blue-gray stones of cyclopean architecture which comprised the walls and low ceiling of the dreary dungeon, and he could see the iron brazier that held his beacon of salvation, the winking flame of an oil fire. He slackened in his pace again, and took in the dreary sight of the dungeon walls with the appreciation of one who has been blind and by some miracle can see again.

Then, a new sound came to him, and he had to stop and listen hard to make sure that his ears were not deceiving him once more.

There was the definite sound of whimpering, like some child crying further down the hall. The sobs were slight, and pitiful, the heartsick sound of youthful despair. He fancied the tone of the sobs sounded feminine, and something about their absolute sadness made him soften in his wariness of unseen listeners in the dark. Entranced by the melancholy of youthful tears, Link went stepping slowly into the lighted room which contained the brazier and its welcoming flame.

This was a larger room, its ceiling several feet higher than the hall, and in it were several objects which seemed out-of-place in such a dungeon. A table of hand carved deku wood, luxurious and well varnished, and paired with a finely crafted chair with velveteen cushion sat nearby the brazier, looking like they had been freshly dragged from the office of some factory owner in Castle Town. Upon the table was a large, leather-bound book and raven quill pen resting in an ink well. Beyond the table, a massive iron statue dominated the center of the room, shaped like a pyramid made of three triangles, one stacked atop the other two. At the base of the statue, huddled into a fetal ball on the cold stone floor, a girl in a satin pink dress was sobbing into her own braided blond hair.

Link approached her carefully, watching in awe as the girl went on sobbing. He knew right away, there could be no mistake about it; this was the princess Zelda who awaited her execution the coming morning.

Link was so caught up in the sight of beauty and sorrow before him, he did not notice the chink in the stone floor, and he stumbled noisily, knocking the wooden table with his knee and causing pain to shoot up from that spot into his leg.

"Ow, ow, ow!"

The princess ceased her crying with a gasp, her attention snapping up to Link, her deep blue eyes meeting his almost at once.

"Who are you?"

"Uh…" Link was still shaking the pain off of his knee as he struggled for an answer, "Uh… I'm Link. I'm a prisoner… I was a prisoner… the guards brought me here. I'm looking for a way out."

"How did you get out of your cell?"

"I… um… don't really know?" said the boy, realizing how stupid he must sound, "The door just kind of… opened. It was dark, so I couldn't see if anyone did it. Were you crying?"

"No!" snapped the princess, "I was not crying. I just… its awful… Nyarlath, the High Wizard, has me trapped here. He put a curse on my father and holds him in his chambers in a deep and unnatural sleep. He framed me for this crime, and will have me put to death when the sun rises if I cannot escape. He seeks to usurp the throne from my father, and kill me to ensure that none but he have a claim to the throne. Nyarlath must not be allowed to control Hyrule!"

"So it is you then. Princess Zelda?"

"Of course that is me! Who else would I be?" said Zelda. Then her eyes welled up with tears again, and she hid her face to keep Link from seeing her cry, "Anyway, it is hopeless now. There is no escaping Nyarlath, and with his rise to the throne any hope of a peaceful Hyrule is lost."

"There must be something we can do," said Link, taking a few cautious steps closer, "I knew it couldn't be true that you tried to kill your father. I won't just leave you here! I'll set you free!"

"You believe me?" said Zelda, the edge in her voice softening, "That is very kind, but there is no way that you can save me. I am chained here, and unless you have the key or some other means of breaking locks there is little you can do. It would be best for you to find a way out, get as far away from Hyrule as possible, and save yourself. Dark times are coming to this land."

"No way! I can't just abandon you. You've done nothing wrong, you don't deserve to die!" Link went to her and took her hand in his. There were chains tied around her ankles, securing her to the massive statue. The princess looked him in the eye, and he could see her fighting every moment to keep from breaking down in tears.

"You are very brave, but you must listen to me," said Zelda, shakily, "You cannot possibly stand against Nyarlath. You must leave me behind, or you will die too, and I will have that guilt to take with me to the chopping block as well."

"I don't care about that filthy old warlock! I'm getting you out of here. Wait right there, I'll go find something to break your chains!" Link released the girl's hand and turned to go find something to set her free, but he collided straight into something big and sturdy, and fell hard on his backside on the stone floor.

"Filthy old warlock, is it?" the High Wizard towered over the boy, his presence even more menacing by the flicker of the torchlight than it had been in the brazen daylight of the Castle Market. His black eyes glowed eldritch purple in the firelight, and the gems on his neck gleamed like the eyes of demons as they cast the flicker of the flame about the room. "Insolent little street rat. I knew you had the look of trouble about you. I should have killed you on the spot."

The Wizard raised his hand, palm held out flat, and the tips of his fingers began to seethe with daemonic purple light. Link gasped in horror as the dark magic went flowing into him. Zelda screamed helplessly for Nyarlath to leave him be, but the bolt of evil sorcery struck the boy full in the face, and sent him into a lifeless heap at Zelda's feet.

"No! No! You scoundrel! You evil murderer! You shall never get away with this!"

He chuckled at her mockingly, "You must see it, young princess. I have already gotten away with it. Your father is my puppet now, and your throne is within my grasp. In mere hours you will die, and with you goes the whole insipid line of your pathetic family. Don't worry though; Hyrule is quite safe in my care."

"You are a monster!"

"My fair princess, you have no idea."

"Lord Nyarlath, sir!" a pig-like creature, dressed in the armor of a castle guard, and toting a massive spear, came clomping into the room with panic on his porcine face. "Sir! The castle is under siege by some sort of pirates. You are needed at once to command the defense forces."

"What sort of mockery is this? None can stand against the might of this castle! I will have their heads alongside these two vile children in the morning. Come with me!"

The two sinister figures went sweeping out of the dungeon, Nyarlath's purple cloak billowing devilishly behind him, like the cape of some stalking vampire. A moment later, Zelda was alone in the silence, with nothing but the fallen form of Link at her knee.

She rolled the boy on his back, and propped him up with his head in her lap, her silken-gloved hand caressing his cherubic face. Leaning close to him, she could feel his warm and shallow breath upon her cheek, and sighed with relief to see he was alive. However, there was little to celebrate. The furrow of his brow, and fitful twitching of his eyes beneath their lids was familiar to her, and she quickly recognized the same sleeping curse which had been laid upon her father only days before.

"Poor, brave, stupid boy!" cried Zelda, rocking Link gently in her arms, "Why didn't you listen to me? How many people have to die? Father! It's not fair!"

She sank down on him, burying her face in his chest and caving into breathless sobs. She hugged him, felt his heart beating faintly against her, and drowned herself in the sorrow.

"Psst!"

Zelda perked up at the sound, glancing all around her for its source, but no one seemed to be there.

"Who is it?"

"Shhhh!"

A hand came to rest upon her shoulder, and she squeaked with fright, but another hand clasped itself over her mouth to muffle her scream. From atop the iron statue, three figures came creeping, half crawling on their hands, and so silent was their step that it seemed to make no sound at all. Each of the newcomers was lithe and tall, and shrouded in a crimson, skin-tight garb, wrapped at the hands and ankles with white gauze. Their heads were wrapped around in the same way, covering their mouths and hair, and all Zelda could see of them were their dark eyes twinkling in the firelight.

"It's her alright. Kef, head up and let the captain know we're on our way. We'll need to get out of here in a hurry."

One of the trio gave a nod of acknowledgement before darting silently off into the darkness. The one who had spoken the order, the one who held Zelda's mouth to stifle her scream, leaned in close by her ear and whispered.

"Princess, we are here to protect you, but you must be silent and do exactly as I say. I'm going to take my hand off your mouth now, and you must be very silent so that we don't attract more Moblins."

Zelda nodded. The hand left her mouth, and the mysterious figure stood up.

"Ok, Zig, the chains."

"Right."

The third of her rescuers knelt at her side, and with a metallic click a kind of skinny blade came sliding out from some hidden compartment at the wrist. The unknown jail-breaker inserted the tip of the blade into the lock of Zelda's shackles and twisted it. A second metal clicking announced the princess's release, and Zelda immediately began to rub her ankle, which had become itchy and sore from the tightness of her bonds.

"Thank you!"

"The least we could do, Princess," said the leader, "Now don't say a word until we're back on the surface. Zig, carry her, we can't afford to have anyone hearing us leave."

The one called Zig grabbed her unceremoniously around the waist and hefted her on his shoulder. Despite his slender form, the masked rescuer was deceptively strong, and raised her into the air as if she weighed no more than a feather. Immediately they made to leave, but Zelda saw Link still lying on the stone floor, sound asleep.

"Wait!"

"Tssst!" hissed the leader, "Princess, I really wanna help you here, I really do, but if you get us caught yelling like that then we're all dead meat. What is your problem?"

"That boy there- he tried to help me! I can't leave him. If you mean to take me away from this dungeon, you must bring that boy with me," said Zelda.

"No can do, Princess," said the leader, "We've got enough on our hands dragging you around, I don't even wanna think about how it's gonna be tryin' a sneak out of here with two pint-sized paper weights to carry."

"I will not leave without that boy!"

"I'm sorry, princess, but you don't have a choice," the masked leader replied, "Come on, Zig, we gotta move."

"I will scream!"

"Augh!" sighed the leader, "You really care so much about this little green beggar that you're willing to let us all die?"

The twinkling, dark eyes of the jail-breaker met Zelda's sprightly blue, and for a moment they held each other's gaze. Finally, the masked figure threw its arms up in defeat, and said, "Ok, fine. Just fine. Let's just save every damn body. Jeeze! Sometimes I wonder why I'm so nice. You owe me, princess."

The leader went dashing back, hefted Link on their back, and came back down the hall on silent feet.

"Oh, thank you!" cried Zelda.

"You can thank me by keeping your mouth shut. Now let's move!"

They went quickly and quietly down the hall into the silent darkness of the Castle dungeon, Link and Zelda carried along on the shoulders of their rescuers to adventures strange and unforeseen, and against her better instinct Zelda felt a flicker of hope kindling in her weary heart.