Sea Spirit
By Asika
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All Legend of Zelda original characters and settings are copyright to Nintendo. All fan characters and non-original plot lines and settings are copyright to Asika.

Author’s Note:

This is a fanfic containing the elements of Legend of Zelda video games. It is a random combination of equipment, ideals and other such things that are found in Legend of Zelda games,although I primarily use that which is found in Ocarina of Time. If you see that I have Link possessing certain items that did not come from the same game, DO NOT email me about it. I type this note now to tell you that there WILL be things from different games in this story, and if you do not like this idea, then stop reading this now and don’t bother me about it later. Just so you know, Link in this story is about 18 years old our time.
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~The Hylian Hero...he is the one destined to make the journey and deliver them...~

A vision...of a small boy and a blue aura in a small room. A brief flash of long blonde hair and a scream. A feeling of utter helplessness and despair, underlaid with determination.
~You will find your answers in the town of the sea’s tears...help them, hero.~

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He came awake instantly. A quick shake of the head to bring total awareness, and then he raised an arm to support his head.

“Another dream...what can it mean? The town of the sea’s tears?”

Link looked around. He was still where he had settled in for the night, nestled securely in the branches of a large and leafy tree. Below him, he heard the gentle snort of his mount Epona. All was as it was when he had retired.

“The town of the sea’s tears...” he repeated to himself. “What is meant by that?”

A few rays, hints of the coming morning, poked over the horizon and partially lit the land. Link turned his attention eastward, towards the sunrise...and the direction his dreams had led him.

Almost audible was the crashing of distant waves...was he truly approaching this ‘town of the sea’s tears?’ Only time would tell.

He nimbly jumped down to the ground and walked up to Epona. The Master Sword was still strapped securely to his back, and his bow and quiver were still hanging from his saddle as he had left them. A quick patting down of himself revealed that all equipment was still in it’s proper place.

“Well then, Epona, shall we go see if we can’t find my mystery town?” he said, patting the horse fondly on the nose before he mounted.

The wide path was easy for Epona to travel on, and Link allowed her to set her own pace. At a light gallop, they continued on as the sun rose to a hazy half-circle and colored the land a light orange. Gazing around himself, Link took in the scenery and committed it to memory. He had never been this far south before, so everything he saw was new to him. Exotic flowers winked at him from beside the worn dirt path he now traversed, and the trees here seemed to grow more lithe and taller than those back home, though they were no less stronger or sturdier. It all seemed strange, and yet familiar to him.

Allowing himself to relax partially in the saddle, Link turned his attention back to the road. It was beginning to narrow, and become rougher.

“It appears that no one walks here often,” he thought to himself. He slowed Epona when old but still deep wagon ruts began to appear. He did not need Epona losing a shoe or injuring herself by stumbling into one of those ruts.

The sun was just beginning it’s climb into the sky when the trail disappeared entirely, and Link was forced to dismount and lead Epona forward on foot.

The sounds of distant ocean waves still carried to Link’s ears on the wind, so he knew he must be getting close...but close to what?

He paused when the trees, before being confining and leaving him a very narrow walkway that forced him to walk single file with Epona directly behind him, suddenly opened into a brief clearing. Link hung Epona’s lead on a nearby tree branch and walked into the clearing cautiously...it seemed out of the ordinary, a clearing in the middle of a dense forest.

He whirled and brought the Master Sword from it’s sheath when the bushes across the clearing began to shake violently.

“HA! I’ve got you now Breni! You won’t be stealing eggs from OUR coop again! ” a childish voice shouted, and then a small boy leapt from the foliage. He was short, with messy blonde hair and dressed in loose pants and was barechested but for a blue vest that was all but falling off him. His eager grin quickly faded to a look of terror when he spied Link, armed, standing across the clearing.

“V-V-V-Vitanre! ” he screamed, and started to scramble away.

“Wait! I’m not going to hurt-“Link hurriedly said, stepping forward and starting to return the sword to the sheath upon his back.

All the boy perceived was Link raising that great sword, and tripped and fell over backwards. “VITANRE! ”

The bushes exploded as a dark blur leapt out of them and over the cowering boy. Link quickly backed away, and studied the figure that stood before him now.

It was a female, about his height and age by appearances. Her hair was held back from her face by a dark green cloth wound around her head that hid her ears and upper neck. Dressed in a rough, short green smock the same color as her headcloth and tan leggings beneath that, she was wielding a fine-looking scimtar. It’s scabbard was hanging from a belt about her waist, showing that she was not petite. Infact, by the looks of her lean body she was quite used to laboring in a field or such.
She had dark, intense eyes that seemed out of place in her pretty facial features...which weren’t quite so pretty now considering they were twisted in a furied glare that was meant solely for Link.

“Darian, run,” she called to the boy behind her, bringing her scimitar up into an offensive position.

“You, put away your weapon,” the girl ordered Link, starting forward. Her feet, clad in soft leather boots, made no noise upon the ground.

“Wait, this is all one big misunderstanding,” Link said, sheathing the Master Sword.

“Why were you attacking my brother?” the girl went on harshly. “By all means I should kill you where you stand, foul waylayer.”

“Waylayer? Miss, I assure you I meant the boy no harm. I am Link, and am new to these parts,” he said. He held out his hands wide to show that he indeed meant no harm to anyone. “I was following the path when it disappeared. I kept going in a straight line and ended up here. The boy jumped out of the bushes and startled me, so I drew weapon. As I went to put it back, the boy screamed.”

“A likely story, but I’ve heard worse. Drop all your weapons on the ground, sir,” she said, eyes narrowing.

Link paused, a bit unsure.

“I will not hurt you unless you give me trouble, now place all your weapons upon the ground now,” she said in a somewhat softer tone.

Link carefully reached up and unstrapped the Master Sword. His heart skipped a beat or two when he laid it on the ground, but then he undid his belt and placed the entire thing on the ground next to it.

“There, I am totally defenseless,” he said when he had finished.

The girl stepped towards him and gathered up his things, throwing his belt over her shoulder and strapping the Master Sword across her back, much like Link himself preferred to carry it.

“Now, we are going to the village elder. She shall decide whether or not you are telling the truth. Walk,” she ordered, coming around behind him and lightly tapping him with the flat of her blade.

“What of my horse?” he asked. He didn’t turn around immediately, but he heard the nickering of Epona and the rustle of a tree branch. Turning his head a bit, he saw the girl untie the reins from the branch and click to the horse. Epona grudgingly followed the girl.
“It shall be following, now walk.”
Link oblidged. He followed her directions, which came in the form of light taps with the flat of the blade on his shoulders, depending on which way she wanted him to go.

“Where are we going?” he asked, after they’d walked on for a while.
“My village,” came the simple answer.

“I am Link, I was raised in the Kokiri Forest,” he went on, trying to spark a conversation.

After a few moments, she replied. “I am Vitanre, guardian of the Sea Shrine and of the Merilarmes village.”

After that, try as he might, Link could not get the girl to say anything more.

It was nearly midday when the two came onto a cobblestone road. With the girl prodding him onward, Link turned to his left and followed the road. In the distance, he could make out what looked like a great stone archway and a tall wall of the same sort of stone.

“Is that the entrance to your village? The archway, I mean,” he said over his shoulder.

“Yes. We are proud of our stonework and carpentry here in Merilarmes,” came the reply.

As they drew nearer to the archway, Link spied a crows cage hanging by a heavy chain from a thick plank of wood jutting out from the wall. In the crows cage were the skeletal remains of two human-like beings.

“We are also proud of keeping our forests and shorelines free of pirates and thieves,” she chuckled, seeing Link’s involuntary shudder at the sight of the bones in the cage.

As they walked, the forest slowly disappeared, giving way to scrub grasses and sand. The sound of the ocean was clearer than ever now, ocassionally punctuated with the clanging of a bell.

“Is this village a fishing village?” Link asked.

“That is one of our main incomes, yes. Keep moving,” Vitanre said.

They passed under the archway and entered the village. Link’s eyes kept moving, constantly looking at everything around him. Buildings of wood and the same stone as was in the wall crowded the streets, with vendors standing in every available space they could find, peddling things from finely made boots to items that looked like they simply picked them up off the ground.

The air smelled pleasantly of salt and water, and a warm breeze off the sea blew through the streets. Through the throng of people and buildings, Link spied ships and a large dock on the other side of the village, and saw the white-topped waves hitting the shore continuously.
People were everywhere, but they quickly made room as Vitanre and her capture came through. Several called out greetings and crude jokes about the two young persons, but she ignored them all and kept Link moving through the crowd until they reached a building that was shorter than those around it , and had a small stage-like platform infront of it.

Vitanre handed the reins of Epona to another man nearby, pushed Link up the few steps onto the stage and made him drop to one knee with her blade resting on his shoulder.

“Now, when the elder comes out you will bow, and when the time comes you shall tell her your side of the story,” Vitanre said. “If she decides that you are telling the truth, then you will be set free and you shall have my most sincere apologies.”

“You are only doing your duty to your town. No apologies are needed,” Link said. He thought he heard a quiet snort from her, but it didn’t sound disbelieving or hostile. In fact...it kind of sounded like she was amused by him.

A small crowd had gathered behind them, and before them the only door of the building opened.

“Vitanre, guardian, what brings you to my doorstep?” an ancient woman stepped out onto the stage slowly, walking with a cane of driftwood.

“I caught this man out in the forest, Elder,” Vitanre said. “When I arrived, he had drawn sword on Darian.”

“Darian, eh?” the old crone moved closer, her cane tapping loudly on the stage. Link watched her approach. He respectively nodded his head at her, and she nodded back, blinking slowly. “Tell me young man, what say you?”

Vitanre gently tapped him, telling him it was time to talk.

“I am new to these parts, madam,” Link started. “I was leading my horse through the woods when the path disappeared, when I came to a clearing. The boy jumped out of some bushes and startled me, so I drew sword, since I know not what sort of creatures dwell in this area. He was frightened of me, and screamed when I tried to resheath my weapon.”

The woman made a sound, and Vitanre hurriedly unstrapped and handed over the sheathed Master Sword. She took it from the young woman carefully and, awkwardly leaning upon her cane, pulled the Master Sword free. Her eyes widened when she studied it.

“Go on, sir,” she said, sliding the sword back into it’s sheath and keeping hold of it.

“When I tried to explain myself, the one by name of Vitanre came to champion the boy. I laid my weapons at her feet and submitted, for I truly wish no one here any harm,” Link finished.

The Elder fixed Link with her gaze, and Link felt as though she were searching his very soul. At length, she finally nodded.
“I find no thoughts of deceivement within you. You are free to go, and...” she paused.
Vitanre removed her weapon from his shoulder and allowed Link to stand. She handed him back his belt and things, but the elder still held the Master Sword.

“You are Hylian, yes?” she asked.
Link nodded as he strapped his belt back on.

“Good sir, what is thy name?”

“I am known as Link, madam,” he answered.

The elder nodded. “Link...yes, I do believe...I request that you share in our village’s hospitality. Vitanre shall guide you around, and this evening I ask that you return here and talk with me.”

“I would be happy to, madam,” Link said, smiling. He reached for his sword, but the woman held it beyond his reach.

“You shall have thy sword returned, when you come see me tonight,” she said.

Link nodded. “Very well then.”

He turned around, and blinked at the crowd that had gathered without his notice. They began to disperse, and then Vitanre tapped Link on the shoulder.

“My apologies, Link, for my treatment of you,” she said when he turned to face her. “You were indeed telling the truth.”

“It’s alright, really it is,” Link said. “You were only doing what you felt was right. I would have done the same thing were I in your place.”

She smiled slightly. “The elder has charged me with guiding you around our village, if you so wish.”

“I would like to look around,” Link said, nodding. “I’ve never really seen the sea before.”

“It’s not so spectacular if you’ve been living near it all your life,” Vitanre replied, motioning for Link to follow her off the stage to the street.

He followed and matched her pace as she strode off, back towards the market area they’d passed when coming through the village. Link listened intently as Vitanre pointed out different things...an armory shop there, a potions shop there. The first building you came to in the town was the inn, and the one next to that was a shooting gallery that most of the village visited in the evenings.

“Archery contests and swordsmanship competitions are held there nightly,” she said as they passed.
“Sounds like fun,” Link said, pausing by the door, a piece of paper mounted on the door. It was the standings of a week’s worth of contests.

“Eh, that’s an old list, you wouldn’t want to read it-“Vitanre said quickly, coming back to yank him away.

“Vitanre, YOUR name is top on every event,” Link said, laughing.
“Uh, yeah,” the girl said, blushing. “I’m not much of a fisher, so I practice other things...look Melina is giving out those sweet cakes she makes ” She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the list.

Later, both with a sweet cake in hand, they walked down to the docks.

“That’s my father’s boat,” Vitanre said, licking sugar off the tip of one finger and pointing. The boat she singled out was large, with ports for oars down the side and a large mast with the mainsail currently folded. “It’s the largest ship in the village, and many men go out each day upon it. It’s the only boat that’s never capsized or been damaged in a storm. Safest boat in the village,” she said proudly.

“Have you ever been out on the sea in it?” Link asked, studying the boat.

“A few times, although I’m better at tying off the mainsail and manning the oars in stormy weather than I am with nets,” she said sheepishly. “I really am not much of a fisher...”

Link smiled, letting his gaze sweep over the other ships moored in the docks. He let his eyes follow the shore line, until they came to cliffs. He saw how everything was set up now: the docks were in a cove of sorts, sheltered from storms by the cliffs he was now looking at. The mouth of the cove had large rocks jutting out of the water, which served as a breaker for large waves.

“How do the boats get out past those rocks?” he asked, finishing off the last of his sweetcake.

“Oh,” she remarked. “It’s high tide now, very dangerous to get past. The waves would split your hull on those rocks in a heartbeat. The boats can only get out to sea at low tide, when the water is easiest to navigate.”

“So they fish during low tide?” Link aked, puzzled slightly.

Vitanre giggled. “No, they get out of the cove at low tide, and fish when the tide comes back in and they’re far enough out that they’re in no danger of being dashed against the rocks.”

Link nodded. “Ah, I see now.” He turned his attention back to the cliffs, and noticed something odd. There appeared to be a cave in the cliff face...and steps leading down to it.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing. Vitanre followed his finger and ‘ahh’ed when she saw what he was looking at.
“Oh, that’s the entrance to the Sea Shrine.”

“Sea Shrine?”

“Yes,” Vitanre said. “It’s an old legend in our village. We are protected by the great Sea Spirit from the worst storms, and only the guardian of the Shrine can speak with the Spirit.”

“But...didn’t the Elder call you the guardian?” Link looked at her, raising an eyebrow.
Vitanre brushed a stray hair off her shoulder and sighed. “Yes, I’m the guardian of the Shrine. It doesn’t mean much, to be guardian really...I just keep the place clean. Would you like to see the Shrine? We have time before the sun sets.”

“Of course,” Link answered. “Lead on.”

Vitanre lead him down the shore, and up a rocky incline that seemed to never end. Finally, Link realized they were on top of the cliffs. She lead him to a stairway carved into the stone of the cliffs, and started down them at a quick pace. Link followed, considerably slower. Vitanre reached the cave entrance before him, and turned around to watch him carefully climb down.

“Sorry, I’m used to the stairs...” she said.

Now inside the cave, it began to grow dark and since the cave was only a few yards above the high tide line, it was rather moist. Link heard Vitanre fumble with something, and then his eyes met light. She’d struck flint and stone onto a treated torch and it’d caught fire.

“Now we have light. You should see this place at sunrise, the cave opening faces east,” she said, motioning for him to follow her deeper into the cave.

A few feet, and the gray stone began to take on a blue hue; the stone was painted the same color as the water outside, Link realized. He heard the faint sound of dripping water, along with the roar of the water outside as they continued farther back into the cave. The ground began to angle downwards, and they finally stopped before a large iron door.

“Hold this a moment,” she said, shoving the torch at Link. He took it as she grabbed the handle and pulled. With a loud grating sound, the door swung open and light spilled out of the doorway to meet them.

“We don’t need that now, put it there,” Vitanre said, pointing from the torch to a bracket in the wall next to the open door. Link secured the torch there and followed her inside.

He gasped silently as he looked around. The entire place was painted blue, and sparkling bits of crystal glinted in the light from several torches that ringed the room. In the center of the room was a roiling basin of water cut into the stone, and above that was an altar before a sparkling statue of a human-like being. The statue itself was made of the same sort of crystal that was randomly set into the walls, and it was carved to appear eerily life-like. It looked to be a cross between a human male and a Zora that was rising up from the sea on a wave with his arms upraised and his face turned up towards the sun. It was a handsome, spectacular statue.

“That is our Sea Spirit, the mighty Jarom,” Vitanre sighed. She walked around the fountain and sat against the foot of the statue, leaning up against it and staring up at him.
Link looked at her. “Do you speak with Jarom?”

Vitanre paused, then shook her head. “No...it has always been said in legend...that...”

“That what?” Link asked, coming around the fountain himself to sit next to her.
“That...that Jarom speaks with true guardians,” she said quietly. “I have never once heard his voice...I pretend, when someone asks me about it, but I know the village elder knows that I do not hear Jarom...I suspect soon she will strip me of my title and cast me from the village.” Vitanre hugged her knees to her chest.

“Are you sure? You seem to be well-liked by everyone here,” Link said.

Vitanre smiled bitterly. “I have no friends here besides my little brother Darian...people talk to me, but they treat me...differently. My father has never allowed me to have any friends, and it was he that suggested me for the title of guardian...being guardian of this Shrine is a lonely life. I often speak only to this statue for days at a time.”

“Your father won’t let you have friends?” Link asked, puzzled. “But, why?”

Vitanre suddenly looked horrified. “I shouldn’t have said that...no, please don’t ask me that.”

“Alright then, I won’t,” Link assured her. He, too, looked up at the glittering statue of Jarom. “A statue is hardly a friend...”

“He’s a good enough listener, I guess...” Vitanre chuckled. “I sometimes entertain the thought that he’s listening to me, but can’t talk back...”

“So, how long do you stay within this Shrine?” Link asked, sensing that a change in subject was needed.

“I normally stay here two weeks at a time, with a week off afterwards,” Vitanre said.

“You stay here alone, for two weeks at a time? How do you stand it?” Link asked, amazed.

“I talk to him,” she gestured up to the statue. “And sometimes, when he can get away from his chores, Darian visits me.”

“Darian? Wasn’t he the boy I accidently frightened in the woods?”

“Yes,” she smiled fondly. “He means the world to me.”

Link nodded. “I know what it’s like to care deeply for someone close. I can tell you are protective of him...after all, you challenged a complete stranger in the woods just because he startled the boy,” he chuckled.

“I really am sorry about that,” she laughed. “I don’t normally search the woods for people to bother, it’s just that this is my week out of the Shrine and Darian wanted to play in the woods, so-“

“This is your week out of the Shrine? And I made you come back in here just so I could see it. I apologize,” Link interrupted.

Vitanre looked at him for a time, until he began to shift uncomfortably.
“It’s not your fault. We do what we are meant....destined...to do...although, in this case I think the fates have made a mistake,” she added thoughtfully. She glanced towards the doorway, and then jumped to her feet. “It’s sunset! You should be at the elder’s house by now! ” She turned around and yanked Link to his feet.

“Come on! ” she all but dragged him out of the shrine, pausing only to shove the soor shut and grab the torch, before pulling him along and up the cliffside stairs. When they were on solid ground, she allowed Link to run without her assistance, and she lead the way back into the village and to the elder’s home.

Both arrived, slightly winded, and when Vitanre raised her hand to knock the door swung open, revealing the hunched form of the elder.

“Ah, it is Link and Vitanre,” she said, squinting up at them and toothily grinning. “Please come in.”

“It is my fault he is late, Elder,” Vitanre said, bowing her head.

“He is no later than I expected him. All is well, child. Both of you now, stop lingering in my doorway and come in ” the elder chuckled as she moved back into the house, her cane tapping loudly upon the wooden floor.

Link and Vitanre followed, Vitanre pausing to pull the door shut behind them. They walked down a short hall into a room lit by a single fire in a fireplace. Cushions littered the floor before the fireplace, and a single armchair was pulled next to the warming flames. It was in this the elder settled herself, sighing as she shifted, then she gestured for Link to have a seat upon the cushions in the floor.

“This old crone has but one chair to her name,” she chuckled. “I’ve never had any need for a second.”

Link smiled as he sat crosslegged in the floor on one of the larger cushions. “I am just as happy in the floor as in a chair.”

“Such a polite young man. Vitanre,” the elder turned to face the young woman. “There is stew upon the kitchen fire and water, if you would attend us.”

Vitanre bowed her head and left the room. Link watched her go.

“Now, Link.”

At those words, Link turned his attention back to the elder. She had pulled something from beside the chair and had it laying across her lap. Link’s eyes widened when he recognized the sheath of the Master Sword.

“Yes, this is indeed the Master Sword, that only the true hero of Hyrule may wield,” the elder said, nodding slowly. “Are you he, then?”

Link slowly nodded. “Yes.”

“Then you have seen much of this world...though obviously, not enough of it if you’ve never been around here,” she cackled. She stroked the sheath reverently, before handing it back to Link. “In my old age, I would have never suspected that I would meet the hero wielding the sword, much less hold the sword myself.”

Link started to strap the sword onto his back once more, but then paused and laid the sword across his lap. “You don’t look so old.”

THAT certainly raised a cackling storm from the elder. “Oh, would thy be so kind as to tell me how you became the hero of Hyrule when obviously you are blinder than I! ” She wiped tears of mirth from her eyes.

Link smiled and shook his head as the elder gazed at him.“So, Link, why don’t you tell me about those dreams you’ve been having?”

Link made a noise of surprise and glanced up sharply at her. “How did you know about my dreams?”

“Well, obviously you aren’t here on vacation, m’dear,” she chuckled. “And I too see things that tell of the future. I forsaw your arrival here, though WHY you are here I don’t know.”

“Neither do I, in truth,” Link said slowly. “A few weeks ago, I began dreaming...it must be of this place, of that I am sure of.”

“And what did you see?” the elder asked quietly, leaning forward.

“A...a flash of blue light, and I hear screams, female screams. And there’s feelings...of despair, helplessness, and sometimes I even feel determination. But, throughout the dreams there is...a feeling of great love,” Link said, brow furrowing. “I see a small boy, but I can’t make out any facial features or anything else that I might use to tell who he is. And...there may be another person there, for I think I see blonde hair...long.”

The elder clicked her tongue against her teeth and leaned back. “Indeed...it would seem you have yourself a mystery to solve, Link.”

Link sighed and nodded. “I wish I knew what it meant...”

“All will become clear when the time comes,” she assured him, nodding sagely. “Vitanre, child, it is impolite to linger in doorways.”

Vitanre, who was indeed standing in the doorway with a tray, jumped slightly, then bowed her head. “I am sorry, Elder.” She came into the room and sat the tray on a small table. On it were two bowls of a steaming stew and two large mugs of fresh water. She served both Link and the elder, and then stood back respectively.

“Ah, it is too bad most my teeth are gone...I did so enjoy chewing the things that are found in stew,” the elder said mournfully. “I’m afraid it will mainly be mush for my sake, though that will not make it any less filling or tasty.”

Link chuckled. “I’m sure it will be just fine, Elder.”

The elder sniffed at her bowl and sighed happily. “Now, Vitanre, you may wait outside for Link. When he is finished, you will take him to the inn and see that he is settled in properly.”

“Yes, Elder,” Vitanre said, bowing her head once more and retreating from the room.

The woman watched her go before turning back to her supper. “Such a good child...”

Link didn’t know how to respond to that, so he too went to his supper. The stew was thick and hearty, with potatoes and tender vegetables in it. As his stomach growled, he realized that he hadn’t eaten all day, except for that sweet cake he’d had while with Vitanre.
“You should get to know her,” the elder said suddenly. “You two have more in common than you think.”

He paused, spoon poised halfway to his lips, and looked up at her. “What?”

The woman sat her bowl upon a knee and sighed heavily. “Vitanre is different from all those here in this village. Her father is scared of what might happen should anyone take too close an interest in her, and so he sends her away to dwell in the Shrine for weeks at a time.”

“Weeks? You mean the two weeks at a time?” Link asked, returning the spoon to the bowl without taking the bite.

“No,” the elder shook her head sadly. “I mean for weeks, uncountable weeks, at a time. If her father knew she was out of the Shrine and walking around the village, he would beat her and send her right back into the Shrine. Vitanre’s family lives in the woods outside the village, and so Vitanre can sometimes get away with visits to the village without her father knowing.” She sighed and returned to her food. “If it weren’t for the caring of the villagers, who never tell when she leaves the Shrine, I suspect Vitanre’s father would lock her there permanently.”

Link was staring at the elder, a look of disbelief upon his face. “But...why? Why lock her away? She does not seem so different to me.”

“Of course she doesn’t, not to you.”

“What does that mean?” Link asked, shaking his head. “There is so much I don’t understand.”

“You will in time, m’boy, in time. As it is, she’s worked out a few simple precautions with the village folk here. When her father is in town, the gallery owner nails up a list of fake standings without her name upon them. If ever she is out in the open, and her father comes calling, nearly everyone here has hidden her in their homes atleast once...she has a sad existance, that one, but her heart has remained unbitter these long years. She is as sunny a spirit now as she ever was...and you know,” the elder added thoughtfully. “Besides her brother, you are the only person she’s ever truly talked to.”

Link, all interest in eating now lost, sat his bowl on the floor next to him and shook his head slowly. “I cannot understand why someone would do that to such a nice girl...”

The old woman smiled. “You shall see soon enough, I suspect. Eat, and then go join her, she will make sure you are treated well. We don’t get many heroes down this way,” she chuckled, tucking into her food with relish.

When Link had finished, he started to stand with his dishes in hand, but the elder waved a hand dismissively. “Leave them, they will be seen to.”

Link nodded and sat them back onto the tray. “I thank you, for your hospitality.” He bowed to her formally, and made his way back outside. As he stepped out the door, Vitanre rose from where she’d been sitting in the shadows against the side of the house.

“I’m supposed to take you to the inn now. Is there anything you think you’ll need?” she asked, walking up to him.

“No, none that I can think of...oh, wait. What happened to my horse?” Link asked, looking worried.

“She is in the stables behind the inn, do not worry for her. Instead, worry for all the stable boys she’s nipped,” she laughed, leading him down the street.

The village was strangely quiet, now that the market area was closed for the night. As they passed the shooting gallery, Vitanre’s arm was seized by a man standing in the open doorway.

“Vitanre kid Howabout you show the newcomer a few rounds, eh eh?” the man roared good naturedly.

“I have to take him to the-yah! ” Vitanre started to protest, but the man yanked her inside and energetically waved Link in after her. Seeing no other option, Link followed.

A whole crowd, men and women both, all cheered when Vitanre was pulled inside. She sighed, and walked up to a wooden counter just inside the door.

“I guess just only one round...he may pick, swordsmanship or archery,” she said, as Link joined her.

“Well boy, what’ll it be?” Behind the counter stood a bear of a man, who looked like he could pick Link up and break him in two over his knee.

“Uh...”Link glanced at Vitanre, who shrugged. “I guess, swordsmanship then.”

The man nodded choppily, and began pulling up long, thin boxes from behind the counter. “’ere’s yers, Vitanre,” he said, handing her a box that was wider than the rest of them.

Link looked at the boxes curiously. “What are those?”

“Yer weapins,” the man answered. “Pick one.”

“These are special wooden weapons,” Vitanre explained. She opened her box to reveal a blunted wooden scimitar resting on what appeared to be blue fluff. “Instead of real weapons here, we fight with wooden swords and such that are kept in colored powders.” To demonstrate, she picked up the scimitar carefully and tapped it against her palm. A puff of blue floated up into the air, and left behind on her palm was a bright blue smear. “This way, we can see where hits are landed, and no one gets hurt. The powder washes off in plain water.”

Link nodded. “I see now...” He scrutinized the boxes. Apparently, the shape of the box was a clue to the size and shape of the weapon within it. He found a box that appeared to be able to hold a sword the size of the Master Sword and carefully opened it. Inside was a wooden sword resting on bright red fluff.
“Now, we go to the floor,” Vitanre said, leading the way. Link followed, giving his wooden sword a few carefully controlled swipes, to get a feel for the weapon.

The walked past the counter and arrived in a room that was alike to a small amplitheater, with seats all around on three walls that formed a ‘U’ shape around a rectangular-shaped open floor area. Men hurriedly removed the remains of what had been an archery contest and then everyone hurried to find seats close to the floor.

Vitanre lead Link down a set of stairs and out onto the floor.

“The rules of engagement are this: you need oly to land a killing blow. Shino shall be our judge.”

At the sound of his name, the bear-man rose from his seat and stepped down to the floor, nodding at both contestants.

“Fighters, on my mark,” he growled, raising an arm. “Bow.”

Vitanre bowed at the waist, Link mimicking her.

“Ready yerselves.”

Vitanre swirled her wood scimitar high around her and up above her head where it stopped, pointing in Link’s direction. She brought her empty hand up to touch the elbow of her weapon arm. Between her arms, she winked at Link.

Link, not one for fancy salutes, brought his sword up into a comfortable ready position and waited.

Shino dropped his arm and quickly lumbered away from them. “And engage! ”

Link stayed where he was, intending to let Vitanre make the first move. But she too stayed where she was, staring at him from between her arms.

The two stayed like that for a moment, when finally Vitanre dropped her scimitar point-down in the dirt and rested her wrists upon the guard. “Well? You’re boring me, Link.”

Link blinked, then sighed. Alright then, he’d make the first move. He took a step forward, and immediately Vitanre’s weapon was back up above her head.

‘She’s left herself wide open...she must want me to attack her,’ he thought. He might as well oblidge her, then. He lunged forward, sword leading the way and leaving a faint mist of red in it's wake.

Vitanre waited until the tip had nearly touched her stomach before her empty hand seized Link’s weapon arm and she rolled up that, until her back was against his chest.
Link’s eyes widened in surprise and he broke her hold and leapt backwards, leaving her uncoming backwards jab with the scimitar slashing into open air.
“You’re a bit faster than I expected,” he said. As the crowd around them cheered them on, the two began to circle.

“Don’t underestimate me, just because I am a female,” she said, grinning.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Link said, also now beginning to smile. He watched as Vitanre came in with a few experimental slashes and jabs, all of which he easily turned away with his own sword.

Suddenly, Vitanre broke her pattern and came lunging in hard. Link side- stepped and brought his weapon down to tap it against the back of her spine, but just as quickly as she’d lunged she reversed her weapon and parried over her shoulder, throwing Link off-balance and forcing his sword arm out wide. The scimitar reversed again and came in for what would have been a killing blow across his neck had Link not ducked low under the slash.

Bringing his sword to bear on her, he slapped away a series of jabs and managed to tap her across the forearm of the arm that held her scimitar.

“HOLD! Change weapon hand! ” Shino called out.

Vitanre shrugged and tossed the scimitar to her other hand.

Now sensing that he may have an advantage, Link began to press his attack, coming in with strong sweeps and quick jabs meant to put Vitanre on the defensive and force her to give ground. She took it all in stride, although she seemed shaky and a bit unused to fighting with the wrong hand.

Link lunged forward, meaning to make her hop backwards, when he stepped to meet his lunge and leapt over him. Turning in midair, she gave him a swift smack across the backside that sent him tottering off balance and blushing to the tips of his pointy ears.

He turned to face her again as the crowd roared in laughter. She grinned michieviously and whirled that scimitar in a mirror-image routine that she had done with the other hand.

Link saw now; she’d been pretending to be unused to fighting with that hand, to lull him into an attack.

It was time to end this, Link saw. He wasn’t fighting like he normally would...he didn’t want to hurt her on accident, and he thought that she, too, was not fighting like normal. If this play-acting kept on, they’d be here all evening.

Link exploded into action then. He came at Vitanre in an attack frenzy, forcing her into the defensive role as the wooden weapons struck again and again. Vitanre bit her lower lip, at times hard pressed to turn away his attacks. She kept backing up until she had her back mere inches from the wall. After a particularily strong slash, she bent down and threw herself into a roll that took her past Link and back into the open floor.
‘She fights well,’ Link thought, ‘although her style with the scimitar is a bit different from one with a sword.’The two fighters, now in the middle of the floor once more, were now more evenly matched and continued to trade blows for a few minutes, when the door upstairs burst open and another man burst in, shouting wildly.

“Vitanre! Hide! Your father-! ”

He was shoved aside by a taller man with a shock of black curly hair and a look of annoyance upon his face. His cold gaze stopped on the scene of the two young persons fighting.

“Vitanre.”

Vitanre stopped fighting immediately, her scimitar dropping to the floor and Link barely turning aside his own lunge that would have struck her across the face.

“Father...” she gulped, turning very pale.

The man slowly clomped down the stairs. “What are you doing outside of the Shrine?”

“I was just-“

“You are away from your post at the Shrine,” he said harshly. Vitanre seemed to shrink away from him.

“The Elder charged me with the task of guiding Link around the village,” she said timidly.

Shino stepped forward. “Now now, Hiram, she was just oblidging us here with a little demonstration-“

The man now identified as Hiram waved him silent, eyes only for his daughter. He stalked forward and raised an arm. Vitanre steeled herself for the slap, and took it without making a sound. Hiram reached out to seize her by the hair but she ducked down and away and he instead grabbed ahold of her head wrap and tore it free.

As Vitanre scrambled back from her enraged father, a long mane of blonde hair fell free, and poking out from underneath the hair were pointy ears.

Link stifled a gasp...Vitanre was Hylian, just like he was!

Hiram stared around as those in the crowd averted their eyes. They, of course, already knew that Vitanre was indeed a Hylian, but prefered to humor Hiram and pretend that they knew nothing of it.

“Get yourself back to the Shrine, girl! ” he roared, throwing the wrap at her as she sprinted past him and nimbly ran up the steps without a backward glance. The door slammed shut behind her, and there was utter silence in the room. Hiram glared at all around.
“Come now Hiram, you can’t keep her locked in there forever,” Shino said, shaking his head.
“The hell I can’t,” Hiram growled. “And YOU,” he suddenly turned on Link, who was still standing in complete shock over the sudden revealing of Vitanre’s heritage. Link gave his head a quick shake and turned his gaze to regard the man standing before him.

“You, boy, you stay away from my daughter or I’ll have you publicly beaten. Have I made myself clear?” he growled, now coming towards Link.

Shino stepped between. “This man is in the elder’s favor, and so long as he’s in my gallery ye shant touch him Hiram! ”

Hiram glared at the big man as Shino crossed his arms over his chest and growled. “Very well then. But if I catch him with my daughter again, you can do nothing to stop me,” he threatened, before giving Link one last look and retreating from the room.

Link stared after him, his sword dropping from his hand to the floor. He looked down, and just a few feet from him was Vitanre’s wooden scimitar abandoned on the floor. He looked up when Shino gave him a pat on the back that nearly sent him sprawling.

“Don’t ye take it personally, lad. Hiram’s just overprotective of his daughter...he fears what may happen if word ever got out that Vitanre’s a Hylian child.”

“But, isn’t Hiram human?” Link asked.

“Ay...Vitanre came to us by the sea as an infant, floating into our docks tied to a bit of wood; Hiram was the one who fished her from the waves and discovered what she truly was. That entire month, bits and pieces of wreckage from what must have been a mighty ship once continued to float into our cove...we can only guess how she survived...” Shino said, sighing heavily.

“Jarom?” Link guessed, and Shino nodded.

“There’s always been something special about that girl...we all love her here in Merilarmes, never have we all seen a more loving person...I just wish her Pa wasn’t so harsh with her. It’s amazing that she’s turned out the way she has with Hiram around,” Shino sighed. “So, you’ll be heading to the inn, right?”

Link nodded...it was the only thing he could do, he didn’t trust himself to speak.

“Ye tell Demi at the front that Shino’ll vouch for yer board, alright?”

“Uh, thank you sir,” Link bowed and hurriedly left. His feet began to lead him towards the inn, but then he stopped and glanced around. Hiram was nowhere to be seen, and so Link walked carefully through the dark village to the steps leading down to the Shrine.
He climbed down them and listened at the mouth of the cave. Soft music, like that of an ocarina, met his ears. It sounded sad and remorseful, and got louder as Link entered the cave and headed for the Shrine. When he reached the iron door he found it open a crack, so he peered inside. Through the narrow opening he spied Vitanre sitting on the edge of the fountain, a roughly hewn wooden flute at her lips.

Link pushed the door open and Vitanre jumped at the grating noise, the lovely music stopping as she allowed the flute drop to her lap. “Oh, it is you, Link.” She reached her hands up to her hair and combed it forward, hiding her ears.

Link came in and sat beside her. “You don’t have to hide from me...I saw that you are Hylian, in the shooting gallery,” he said softly.

“But I’m not...I’m just a disfigured human, not Hylian,” she said hurriedly, averting her eyes from his.

“Is that Vitanre talking, or is that Hiram?” Link asked gently, bumping her lightly with his shoulder.

“It...is hard...” she said after a few moments. “I know that I am different...but Hiram will not let me show myself. I am forced to hide my ears and speak in the dialect of the villagers when he is around...” Vitanre sighed heavily. “And I’m not supposed to leave this Shrine unless accompanied by Hiram...but you've seen how well I follow that rule...”

“You call Hiram by his real name...you do not call him father?”

Vitanre shook her head. “No...I have not considered him my father ever since he began shutting me up inside this cave...and I,” she paused. “I...know in my heart, that he is not my true father. I look nothing like him, nor my mother really. I am blonde-headed, and so is my supposed mother, but that is the end of all resemblances.”

“Being different is nothing to be ashamed of,” Link told her. “I myself grew up among the Kokiri. I was growing up while they remained children. Then, the Deku Tree summoned me and revealed that I was in fact a Hylian...we just have to face our fate when the time comes.”

“I sometimes...I sometimes imagine, on dreary days, what it would have been like to live with my actual parents,” Vitanre said, laughing weakly. “They never would have forced me to hide myself away, for they would be the same as I. And they’d accept me for who I am, and not try to pretend I am what I’m not.”

“Child, fret not over the actions of your father.”

Both Hylians looked up to see the form of the Elder standing in the doorway. She made her way slowly over to them, cane tapping a repetitive rhythm on the stone floor. Sighing tiredly as she settled herself on the other side of Vitanre, the Elder turned to them both.

“He does what he believes is right, and though he may not show it he loves you as though you were of his own blood.”

“He sure has an odd way of showing it, then,” Vitanre responded bitterly.
The elder raised up a claw-like hand and stroked Vitanre’s long hair. “M’dear, you are destined for far more than the life you lead now in this little fishing village. The time will come when you must prove yourself, and then what Hiram thinks or does will not matter one way or the other.” She smiled toothily, and patted Vitanre’s hand.

Vitanre smiled faintly. “Thank you, elder. I- what is that?” Vitanre stood quickly and looked towards the door. Reflecting down into the Shrine was flickering orange light.

“It is not sunrise...no where near sunri-the village! The village burns! ” Vitanre bolted for the cave opening.

Shouts and screams carried on the wind reached Link’s ears and beside him, the elder stared straight at the wall. “And so it begins...” she murmured softly.

“Bandits attack the village! Elder, stay here in the Shrine! ” Vitanre started to run out the door, but Link leapt to his feet and in two steps grabbed her arm.

“Where are you going?”

“To help my village in any way I can, to hell with Hiram,” she snapped, yanking her arm from his grasp and sprinting up the stairs and into the darkness.

Link threw one final glance at the elder behind him, who hadn’t moved at all, before running up the stairs and after Vitanre, Master Sword drawn and ready to defend the village that had shown him so much kindness.

Feet pounding a desparate rythym, Vitanre raced to reach the village. Her scimitar out and thirsting to punish those that would dare raise blade against her home, she reached the main street and raced down it.

Before her, pin-pointed by the torches they carried, were no less than twenty dark horsemen. Even as she sprinted for them, one of them lobbed their torch into a broken window as perhaps half of them galloped away out of her sight. Shouts issued from within the home the torch had just entered, and a great anger arose in Vitanre.

Without regard for her own safety, she threw herself into the middle of the remaining horsemen, slashing out in all directions with her scimitar. Saddle straps severed and horses spooked, the bandits were very much aware of her presence now. Three fell from their horses, their saddles useless, and all drew blades as they backed up to size up their challenger.

Three on ground, and three more still on horses faced the angered female now. Blade held high, she lunged forward at the three that stood on the ground. They seemed unready for her charge, and not used to wielding their weapons in hand-to-hand combat. One fell immediately to Vitanre’s assault, throat split open in a viscious slice. The other two scrambled back into the protection of their fellows that were still mounted.

Blade stained crimson, Vitanre growled ferally and ran forward again, leaping high to cut at the midsections of the men on the horses. Shouting back and forth to each other in a language unknown to her, the men wheeled their horses around and galloped away. The two left on the ground shouted in terror and ran after the mounts, but Vitanre ran them down and slaughtered them.

She then began to chase after those that fled on foot, spying them just up ahead. She saw one veer to the side and slash downwards with his blade, then he turned back with his group, laughing nastily. Vitanre hurried on, until she neared the place where the horseman had attacked.

Laying there, a deep gash across his chest, was Hiram. Vitanre immediately abandoned her chase and dropped to her knees by his side.

“Hiram.”

He coughed, a thin line of blood seeping from his mouth. “You...you are out...of the Shrine...”

Vitanre just stared at him. “How can you think of such a thing at a time like this? ”

Hiram merely shook his head and coughed again.

Vitanre helped him into a sitting position. “The villagers? Why aren’t they defending themselves?”

“Not enough of them...scared...I don’t know,” Hiram wheezed.

Vitanre’s features hardened and she stood, scimitar coming up again. She began to once again chase the horsemen when Hiram reached out and caught her leg.“Why...don’t you ever call me...father...when it is just the two of us? Why only...in public...or around your...mother?”

She paused, staring at the dying man. “Because...I do not wish you to lose face before the people...and, after all you’ve done to me, I cannot find it in my heart to call you father.”

“Harsh...but fair enough...” Hiram smiled weakly. “I only wanted...to keep you safe...”

She nodded, then turned away...and then froze. She whirled to face Hiram. “You! If you are here, then Darian and your wife are alone! ”

She sprinted off, leaving Hiram where he laid, keeping an eye out around her for any sign of the bandits. The village, aside from the crackling of multiple fires, was eerily quiet. It was as though the horsemen had simply vanished into thin air.

Then, a scream pierced the night.

Vitanre, recognizing it as the scream of her adoptive mother, urged her feet to move faster and ignored the burning in her lungs. She HAD to come to the aid of her brother and Hiram’s wife, she had to

She came upon the archway leading out of the village, and saw that the stone itself burned with intensity. She slowed to a light jog and approached it carefully, and just as she was judging it safe to walk under the archway collasped.

Vitanre leapt backwards and slammed into something very much real and solid. She whirled around, scimitar coming to bear upon this new threat as red hot stone rained down around her. Her eyes widened and the scimitar returned to her side when her battle-fogged brain recognized who it was.

“Link! ”

He was breathing slightly hard and his face was smeared with ash from the fires.

“I cannot find anyone anywhere...where could they have gone?” he asked.

“This entire village was built over a system of caves...nearly every building here is connected to one,” she answered distractedly, turning back to the fire. She shielded her face from the blistering heat...the flames shot high into the night sky, much too high for her to leap over.

Link was speaking to her, but she didn’t hear him as she frantically searched for a way over the fire. Another scream, this one being Darian’s no doubt, increased her frenzy. She was just preparing to attempt the leap anyhow when Link grabbed her firmly about the waist and pulled her to him. In his other hand he held his longshot.

“Hold to me tightly,” he said into her ear.
He sighted at the plank that held the crows cage, that was not yet flaming, and fired. The end of the longshot thunked home and pulled both Hylians over the fire and to the top of the stone wall.

Vitanre quickly wormed her way out of Link’s arms and dropped down to the forest floor. Link dropped down beside her and within mere seconds both were bolting through the trees.

Raucous laughter met them as they burst from the trees and into a clearing where a single small homestead stood. The entire group of horsemen, numbering perhaps 16 or 17 when you considered the three Vitanre herself had killed, were standing about the home. Most carried sacks of items they had looted from the homes and shops in the village, and those that could carry no more all turned in unison and galloped away into the forest.

Now, perhaps eight men were left, although two horses stood nearby without riders. Vitanre shouted a cry of challenge, and the bandits turned towards her. Link stood at her side, Master Sword drawn, the firelight from the bandits’ torches flickering off the gleaming blade.

They pointed and muttered in their odd language, when two more exited the house, shoving Darian and a woman out infront of them, solving the mystery of the two riderless horses.

Darian, arms bound behind his back, spied the two hylians. “VITANRE! ”

Vitanre started to rush to his aid when two of the mounted bandits got between her and the boy. They kicked out at her and she was forced to duck. Between the horses’ legs she spied one of the men give the woman a rough kick that sent her sprawling to the ground while the other threw Darian up onto his horse and then mounted behind him.

“Darian! ” She came up to her feet and began slashing at the men between her and her brother. Behind her, Link was attempting to circle around, and was also cut off by the riders. Three now blocked him and were engaging him in battle, while Vitanre struggled to either knock the two before her from their mounts or squeeze past them.

With both Link and Vitanre thus distracted, all but the four who were fighting turned their mounts to the forest and fled. Darian fought against his captor and received a few brutal slaps to the face that dazed him; nonetheless, he kept screaming for his sister.

Vitanre slashed upward with all her strength and gouged deeply into the chest of the mount to her left. The horses, up until just this very moment, had been led well by their riders and had avoided all injury. But now, the wounded horse bucked and thrashed about in it’s agony, and Vitanre slipped past it and sprinted for the forest.

Link saw Vitanre bolt past the staggering horse, and did his best to keep the attention of those that harried him. He ducked low under a wide slash and severed the saddle strap of that agressor and then stepped back as the man tumbled to the ground because of the momentum of his own swing.

The remaining horseman called harshly to his fellow, who was fighting for control over his reeling mount. Finally pulling the horse under control, the man forced it to stand so that it’s ghastly injury was facing Link.Before the Hylian’s eyes, the wound drew together and sealed, healing itself as completely as though it had never been there.

Clambering back onto his horse, riding bareback, the one man gave a last parting jab at Link to force him back, and then the three charged off in the same direction as Vitanre and their fellows before her.

Link hurried over to the struggling woman on the ground and cut her bonds, helping her up.

“Are you unhurt?” he asked.

She nodded shakily, then froze. “They took Darian...Vitanre?”

“She is chasing after, as I will. Will you be alright if I leave you here?” Link asked, although he was truly anxious to go after the bandits and Vitanre. A sudden flash of light, and thunder above him...rain began to splatter to the dusty ground.

The woman flinched at the flash of lightning, then began to wring her hands together. “Please, bring my children home safely...”

“I will, I promise,” Link called over his shoulder as he ran for the darkness between the trees.

Far ahead of him, Vitanre followed the men as it began to rain harder.

She cupped her empty hand around her mouth as she ran. “DARIAN! ”

“Vitanre! ” from somewhere ahead, a faint cry. A glimmer of hope spurred Vitanre on.

Tree trunks and squat bushes flashed past her, lit up in brief flashes of light, and her breath burned in her lungs. Nothing would keep her from catching the men that had stolen away her brother; she’d run to the ends of the world until she found him.

A sudden agonizing pain in her right calf, a sudden failing of that leg, and Vitanre crashed to the ground. Gasping in short, choppy breaths, she twisted around to see an arrow shaft protruding from her leg. She rolled to her side and grasped at it, crying out when even her gentle touch shot pain through her leg and so she let it be, clambering to her feet and doggedly pursuing the riders once more.

She could hear their hoofbeats up ahead, she just needed to go faster...her injured leg shook beneath her with each step she took.

The rustling of foliage and the loud whinny of a horse made her turn. Behind her, another horseman approached; he held a bow in his hands and laughed wickedly when he spied his arrow sticking from Vitanre’s leg. He fitted another arrow to his bowstring and aimed, the arrow twanging off the string and racing for Vitanre.
She threw herself to the ground and the horseman leapt his mount over her and disappeared after the others. Soon after, the three others came and made a loose circle around her.
“Wut’s wrong girlie? Don’t want ta’ play?” one of them asked in very rough Common. He charged at her and gave her a kick that sent her flying into one of his fellows, her scimitar flying from her grasp and clattering to the ground.

She hit the side of the horse and would have bounced off to the forest floor, had the man not caught her by a handful of her hair. “Looks like all the fight’s left her, boys,” he chuckled nastily and flung her down.

Vitanre’s attempt to catch herself failed miserably as her injured leg dumped her down to her knees. She struggled to rise as the two men rode off, laughing wildly.

“Darian! ” Vitanre struggled and managed to get one leg beneath her before the third man struck her squarely across the back of her head with a heavy club.

She crumpled to the forest floor, landing facedown and falling into darkness.

Link darted through the trees, nimbly leaping obstacles that lay in his path. Rain dripped off the leaves in the canopy above him, seeming to double the amount of rain hitting the Hylian. He blew repeatedly as drops gathered at the tip of his nose, blowing them off before they became an irritant.

He rounded the trunk of a large tree and spied a shape laying in the mud ahead. At first thinking it to be a fallen bandit, he approached it carefully. Then, when he had tripped over a familiar object he’d missed in the dark, he realized his mistake. He scooped up the scimitar and dove to his knees beside the still form of Vitanre.

Wincing when he saw the arrow shaft sticking up from her leg, he carefully turned her over and cradled her head in his lap. Reaching two fingers up to her neck, he felt a steady pulse. Good, that meant she wasn’t dead.

Removing his hand from the back of her head, Link came away with blood. Gritting his teeth, Link looked up towards the escaping bandits, and then down again at Vitanre.

“I need to get you help,” he breathed, gingerly picking her up after sheathing her scimitar. He walked, as quickly as he could without jostling Vitanre, back towards the village. The first building he came to was the small house where the woman waited.

She let out a small cry and came running for them, nearly knocking Vitanre from Link’s arms, reaching out to stroke the mud-streaked face of the girl.

“She needs healing, where-“Link started, when the woman pointed back towards the village.

“Meriweather is who you want. First building you come to, across from the inn,” she said quickly. “Come, I’ll show you ” She all but ran the way she’d pointed, Link following much slower.
She led Link right up to the doorstep; luckily, the building was one that had escaped the fires. She opened the door and stepped back to allow Link to enter first.
“Unnn...Darian...” a whisper that may have been words, may have been only a sigh, escaped Vitanre’s lips as her eyes fluttered open. She weakly tried raising her head, then groaned and shut her eyes once more.

“Link...”

“It’s all right, I’ve got you,” he answered her, stepping through the doorway and into the single room beyond. The woman entered behind him and then shoved past, heading for the far corner and beginning to stomp in that one spot.

A muffled shout, and she ceased her stomping and hopped back. Before her, a trap door swung up into the room and a short, squat little woman popped up her head.

“What’s all this ‘ere, Adra? Making a racket! I’s thought my house was coming down round me ears.”

Adra, Vitanre’s mother, grabbed Meriweather and started pulling her from the trapdoor, causing her to squeal loudly.

“Hold! Hold! I’s can get out by meself! ”

“Meriweather, quickly! Your healing is needed! ”

Meriweather blinked large eyes and looked about. “Whats that? I’s thought the whole village was hidden in their caves! ” Her gaze finally fell on the muddy forms of Link and Vitanre, and she whooped loudly.

“Young ‘uns, get mummy’s potions and bag! ” she shouted behind her as she clambered from the hole and scurried over to Link.

She reached up and carefully felt the arrow in Vitanre’s leg. “Nasty, nasty, and in deep as well. Come, get ‘er over ‘ere,” Meriweather flitted around Link and headed back towards the area where the trap door was concealed. Opening a door, that Link saw was designed to blend in with the wall around it, Meriweather waved him inside. Through the door was what appeared to be an infirmary; a few cots lined the closest wall, and shelves of multicolored bottles were cluttered together on shelves that were low to the floor, (they would have to be, considering Meriweather was just tall enough to stare at Link’s lower back.)

With Adra hovering nearby like a brooding mother hen, Meriweather helped Link gently deposit Vitanre, who was slowly coming around, onto a cot nearby. The squat woman squealed again when she spied the blood staining Link’s tunic arm, where Vitanre’s head had rested.

“Girl took a beating she did! I say, YOUNG ‘UNS! ” she shouted in the general direction of the trap door.
Finally, a short, frizzy-headed little girl scampered through the doorway, weighed down by a large brown bag that was slung across her back.
Meriweather snatched it from her and the girl disappeared back into the other room as the woman began to pull cloths and another small leather bag from within the larger one. She also carefully lifted out a corked bottle that was full to the brim with a bright blue liquid.

“Always keeps me strongest potions down below, so’s no one steals or breaks ‘em,” she said, winking at Link.

She paused when Vitanre groaned again and stirred. Placing a hand on the girl’s stomach, Meriweather peered anxiously into her face.

“Haloo there, are you awake then?”

“Wha...where...”

“Easy now girl, if you’re awake then this’ll be much easier on my part. Can you roll over for me?” Meriweather went on, as Vitanre mumbled a few things.

“You, boy, get me water,” Meriweather pointed a pudgy finger towards a large clay pitcher that was sitting on a shelf across the room. Link grabbed it quickly and returned, handing it over to the healer and standing back as Meriweather bustled around the cot.

Vitanre, seemingly for the first time, opened her eyes and SAW, recognizing things around her. Her bleary eyes fell on Adra first, who timidly went to her side and knelt down.

“Vitanre, it is me, your mother,” Adra said quietly, grabbing up one of Vitanre’s hands and hugging it to her chest.

The girl blinked repeatedly, letting out a pained sigh. “My head...” she reached her other hand up for her head, but Meriweather seized it and put it back beside her, then waved away Adra.

“You two, out out out! ” she ordered, pointing to the door. “I can’t do me job with so many people staring! ”

Adra stood and reluctantly released Vitanre’s hand. Meriweather bustled along behind them, ushering Link and Adra from the room.

“She’ll be fine, ain’t a wound Meriweather can’t fix up in a jiffy ” she said cheerily, shutting the door behind them and leaving Link and Adra alone in the first room.

From beyond the shut door, they could hear Meriweather speaking to Vitanre. Adra stood motionless, staring at that door, before finally turning to Link.
“Darian? Is he...?”

Link sighed, looking away. “I followed, but came upon Vitanre in the woods...she needed help, I couldn’t just leave her there.”
Adra looked like he had just cut her heart out, but still smiled tearily. “Of course dear, I would do the same had I been in that situation-OH! ”

Just then, an agonized yelp that could only be Vitanre’s, sounded from behind the door. Link intercepted Adra as she headed for the door.

“Peace, Meriweather probably just removed the arrow,” Link said soothingly.

Adra sniffled, looking forlornly at that door. “My poor dear...why didn’t she stay in the Shrine?”

Link wasn’t sure how to reply, and was saved at that instant when the door behind them swung open, punctuated with a flash of lightning that lit up three figures crowded into the doorway. They clumsily came in further, revealing Shino and another man Link had seen in the shooting gallery but didn’t know his name, both supporting a bleeding Hiram.

Adra choked out a cry and ran to her husband’s side.

“Stand yerself back now, Adra, he’s hurting bad,” the nameless man said.

Shino grunted as Adra backed away, and the three moved for the door that Link guarded.

“Stand down, Link,” Shino said, and Link quickly stepped aside and opened the door.

“I say now, she’ll heal up in a matter of hours but ye can’t see her now! ” Meriweather grumpily said, turning around. She yipped and the roll of bandage she held fell to the floor.

“Heavens! Is the entire family daff?” she exclaimed, picking up the bandage and hastily beginning to move her things as Shino and the other man eased Hiram down onto a cot.

Hiram’s head lolled to the side, and his wide eyes focused on the form of Vitanre laying on the cot next to his. Her head and leg were thickly wrapped in bandage, the white stuff standing out drastically against her mudstained clothes. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head slowly.

While Meriweather began to attend to Hiram, Shino and his companion left and joined Link and Adra in the first room.

Link looked out the broken front windows. The rain outside was dousing the fires, though the archway and a small stretch of the stone wall still stubbornly burned.

Shino joined Link at the window and sighed, which came across sounding like a low growl.

“Isn’t the first time troublemakers attacked us,” he said, turning away.
“Won’t be the last either,” said the other man, who was attempting to comfort Adra.

“I was out when they attacked...where were the villagers? Why didn’t you defend yourselves?” Link asked.

Shino sighed again. “We prefer the loss of property, to the loss of lives. Vitanre in there’s the only one of us who’s got any reputable skill with weaponry...we prefer to hide in the caverns below the village and allow them to pass.”

“Here, the shops display their goods in the windows, sure,” the other man said, guiding Adra to a chair. “But they’s keep the important down below, in the caverns.”

“Why? You shall always be attacked if you never try fighting back,” Link said, looking at them all in amazement.

“It’s just how we choose to live,” the man replied, shrugging. He patted Adra’s hand and came to stand with Link and Shino.

“I saw you fight tonight, against Vitanre,” he said, nodding. “You must have given those bandits a time of it, eh?

Link shook his head quickly. “No, I did nothing of any great importance...Vitanre did more fighting than I, and paid dearly for it.” Link snuck a glance at the doorway, behind which he knew Vitanre laid. “She killed three, if I remember right.”

“That she did, I saw ‘em meself,” the man said, nodding. Shino looked at them both as though they were crazy.

“Are ye both mad? There’d be bodies if’n’s she’d killed anyone.”

“There was,” both Link and the other man answered in unison.

“I ran past them, running after Vitanre,” Link said.

“Aye, and I found them shortly after finding Hiram and right before you came out of your hidey hole Shino,” the other man insisted.

Shino cuffed the man behind an ear. “We walked the entire street, Forns, and saw not a soul besides Hiram, if ye’d recall.”

Forns’s eyebrows furrowed, then he whistled. “You know...come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing those bodies again, and we must have walked past where I saw them at least twice.”

The sudden image of the horse that had healed itself, almost magically, came to Link’s mind. “There were bodies...I’m sure of it...” he heard himself say, every scrap of logic in his brain screaming that if he would just step outside and LOOK he’d find his dead men.

Following the voices’ instruction, Link did go to the door and walk outside, Forns and Shino following behind him. He led both men to the exact spot where he was sure he’d found the three dead horsemen. The area lay empty.
“See? I told ye,” Shino started to say, when a rustling behind them made all three males turn.

Link barely had enough time to leap between the two defenseless villagers and raise his shield to defend as one of their ‘dead men’ lunged for them from out of the darkness. As soon as the man connected with the shield, he exploded in a mass of gooey black mud that splattered everywhere.

“Well...” Shino said, wiping black goop from his face. “THAT didn’t help anything...”

“Maybe so, actually...” Link said quietly, staring thoughtfully at the oozing mass that coated his shield, even now beginning to wash away in the downpour.

“Let’s get ourselves inside a’fores we catch something...or something catches us,” Forns said then.

When they entered Meriweather’s home again, the front room was empty. Further investigation revealed Adra was inside the back room, sitting beside her husband. Meriweather herself was packing away her things back into the big brown bag. She looked up when the soggy, muddy men entered.

“No no no, ye three are getting baths if I’s got to give ‘em to ye meself before you come in here! ” she said, shooing them back out of the room. Shino and Forns looked at each other, and hurriedly made excuses before running out the door with a ‘good luck kid ’ to Link.

Link blinked and then stared after them, before turning wide eyed to Meriweather as she stalked towards him. Seizing an arm, she began to drag a protesting Link down towards the trap door.

“No really! I’ll just go back outside, no need to bother-“

“Ye’s need a bath and a bath is what yer getting, boy. ”

Link sighed heavily and let her drag him down a small stairway and down an equally small hallway until they came to an open space. The walls were solid stone, and the ceiling above them was crowded with stalactites. The floor beneath Link’s feet was smoothed out, and little cubby holes were carved into the rock walls.

Sitting on a large pallet of blankets in the middle of the room were four children, two boys and two girls, of varying ages. The same frizzy haired girl that had brought the bag to Meriweather stood up.

“Wot’s he down here for, mama?”

“Hurry along then and heat the kettle. This lad needs a bath! ”
The girls giggled while the boys gave Link looks of pity as Meriweather pulled Link past their pallet and into a smaller room off of the large carvern. There was a sizable iron tub that took up nearly all the space in this tiny room. It was partially full of clean water that was decidedly chilly when Meriweather stuck a finger in.
“Ooh, that’s a bit nippy...hurry then! ” she called after the frizzy girl. Within moments, the girl came staggering in with a large steaming kettle. Meriweather helped her pour it into the tub, and as the girl left one of the boys came in bearing a basket covered with a thick and fluffy cloth.

“We warmed the stones too, ma,” he said. Meriweather used the cloth to grab two rocks the size of Link’s fists from the basket and she dropped them into the water, the rocks sizzling for a split second when they went under.

Meriweather stuck her hand in again. “That’s a nice temperature now.” She kept the cloth and shooed the boy from the room. She folded the cloth neatly and sat it within reaching distance of the tub edge.

“Now then,” she said, looking around. A small hand reached through the doorway, holding a small tan brick. Meriweather snatched it from the hand and gave it to Link, who was still standing silently where he’d been shoved. “Ah, thank ye dear. Soap, drying cloth, and- ” she said, stepping out the door and yanking a heavy curtain over the doorway. “Privacy. Take yer time, dear. Wash the dust of travel off yourself.”

Link, now alone, stared at the steaming water. It HAD been awhile since he’d actually taken a bath...but he felt a little selfconscious doing it in the home of strangers, no matter how kind they happened to be.

‘And,’ he thought wryly, ‘the constant giggling of little girls just outside the curtain isn’t helping matters either...’

He heard Meriweather chide the girls, and the curtain ruffled as they ran off. He sighed heavily...might as well, then.

He quickly undressed and stepped into the tub, wincing at how hot the water was. The tub was big, big enough to hold him even if he sat down in it. Quickly cleaning himself, he got back out and grabbed at the cloth.

Belatedly, he realized how muddy his tunic was...he couldn’t put that back on! AND, all his other clothing and such were in his saddlebags on Epona

As though she had read his mind, Link heard Meriweather’s footsteps pause outside the curtain. “That horse brought in belongs to ye, right boy?”

“Yes, she’s mine,” Link answered, wrapping the cloth around his waist.
“Oh, good. I’s took a wild guess that all yer belongings are on the horse, am I right?”

He blinked in surprise. “Uh, yes in fact.”

“Good. I sent one o’ me boys after your things. Just wait a few, he’ll have him here.”
‘Not that I have any choice,’ he thought with some amusement. He picked up his muddy tunic and folded it; he’d see to that later. At the present, he had some time to himself, so he picked up his shield and rinsed the black ooze off it’s surface, restoring it to its gleaming regularity. Next, he carefully cleaned the Master Sword on a sleeve that wasn’t quite so filthy as the rest, and then slid that back into it’s sheath.

Just as he finished, the curtain raised just a tiny bit and his saddlebags were shoved underneath. Thankful that he wouldn’t be stuck naked any longer, he quickly threw on an older but clean tunic and stuffed away the dirty one. Once he stepped out of the bathing room, Meriweather hooted at him.

“Well, ain’t you the cutey once ye can see beneath the grime! ” she chuckled. “You go ahead on upstairs and speak with the girl, if’n’s she’s awake that is. If she’s sleeping don’t ye dare wake her! ”

With that parting threat, Link took his things and headed back out the trap door and quietly made his way to the room where Hiram and Vitanre lay resting. Adra was laying in the floor, her head and arms resting on the cot next to Hiram, with her back to her daughter. Vitanre was alone, quiet and appearing to still be unconscious. Link walked closer, to get a better look at her, and when he approached she opened her eyes.

“Link...”

He nodded, not knowing what to say. Vitanre shut her eyes and raised a hand to her head, then began to sit up. Link swung his saddlebags to the floor and headed for her.

“What are you doing?”

“Going...after Darian...” Vitanre bit out, one hand pressed to her head, the other ready to heave herself up and into a standing position. She did just that, just as Link rounded the cot and got beside her.

And good thing too, for her leg immediately gave out and she fell sideways into Link. As soon as his arms reached out to steady her, she swatted them away irritably.

“I don’t need your help,” she snapped, shoving away from him and awkwardly hopping a few steps.

“You are not yet healed,” Link started to say, when Vitanre waved him silent and took another shaky step.

“I do not care. Darian needs help, he needs me,” she said, turning to glare at him over her shoulder.
“Please listen,” he tried again. “You are still injured and weak. You will not be helping your brother at all if you get yourself killed.”

When she turned to look at Link again, her eyes were tear-filled. “I know...but you do not have to tell me that...” she whispered.
She put her back to Link and shut her eyes...she’d failed her little brother. As his older sister, she was supposed to be there for him and protect him...and she’d failed.

Vitanre opened her eyes when she felt a gentle touch on her shoulders. “You should probably lay down now,” Link said quietly.

Indeed, her bad leg was trembling horribly and she felt weak inside. Nodding meekly, she allowed Link to help her back to her cot, but she refused to lay back down.

Link sat beside her, in companionable silence, and Vitanre was grateful; she feared that any words coming from her mouth may cause her to break down and cry.

Both Hylians looked up at the rhythmic tapping that was heading for them. Within moments, the elder was framed in the doorway.

“It is just as well that you both are here...saves me from telling the same story twice,” she said, hobbling over to them. She plopped herself down right between the two, Link scooting over quickly to make room and to save Vitanre the effort of having to move herself.

“Now, my dears, it is time you learned of a chapter in the history of Hyrule that has been nearly forgotten, lost in time,” the elder said, tapping her cane upon the floor to be sure she had both Link and Vitanre’s attentions. Turning her gaze towards the wall across from them, she took a deep breath and began.

~As you both know, Hyrule was created by the three great goddesses Nayru, Din, and Farore...

Upon their departure from this land, they left behind the Triforce...and one more gift that scant few ever knew about.

They knew that, in dark times, evil would rise and attempt to throw Hyrule into chaos. And so, the goddesses created eight spirits to help the people of Hyrule to survive and maintain peace across the land, a delicate balance that would have to be kept in order for life to flourish.

Jarom, the first spirit created and spirit of the water, was made to keep the dangers that dwell within the water at bay.

Xax, the dark spirit, was next; he was created to subdue the sort of beasts that now only live on in nightmares, the worst of the shadow creatures. Without him, the beasts he repels would have long ago destroyed Hyrule utterly.

Kuro, the wind spirit, kept the weather from tearing the fragile new Hyrule apart.

Goro of the earth and Lau of the light were created to help life grow.

Filan, the spirit of wisdom, working together with Tetle, the spirit of courage, helped to lift Hyrule from dark times should the land ever fall.

Sofei was last made, but that does not lessen her importance. Sofei, the spirit of love, lives on in the hearts of Hyrulians, and without love life would exist...but it would be an empty existance indeed.

The spirits went eagerly to their tasks, but soon found that as time went on, they became exhausted with their constant work and needed to rest frequently. To conserve their powers, they decided to take refuge within a host chosen from those they helped to guide and protect. Within their hosts, they were able to work without resting, and life was good.

But, for all good there is evil. After a time, the existence of these spirits was common knowledge. Many who have learned of the spirits quested to capture them, and make the power of the spirits their own. But, to do such an act, you would have to separate the spirit from its host and that itself was no easy task.

To simply kill the host body would free the spirit and throw it to the winds, to seek another host to reside in. No, you would have to find another way to extract the spirit...and so there was another way found.

His name being lost to time, there was a great magic-user who befriended the host of Kuro. By studying the host man, this magic-user created a powerful medallion that would safely extract the spirit from the living host without harming either one of them. He was proud of his creation, and sadly did not foresee the possible hardships such a medallion would create.

Evil sought the medallion, to use it to find, capture, and enslave the spirits to do their wicked bidding. Ashamed now of his invention, the magic-user tried to destroy it but failed. To keep the medallion from falling into evil hands, he hid it away in a place where only the pure of heart could enter.
Since he someday hoped that evil would cease its search for his medallion, the magic-user made it so that those of his family line would always know the location of the medallion’s hiding place, should the need for it ever arise.~

“And I am a descendant of that magic-user...not even I know his name anymore,” the elder finished.

Throughout the history lesson, Link and Vitanre had sat mesmerized, listening to the elder’s every word. Neither of them knew anything of what they’d just been told...Vitanre never knew there were other spirits besides Jarom, and Link had just never known about the creation of the spirits.

“Now then...” the elder said, after a long silence. “You two have a most important, and very difficult, task set before you. Vitanre,” the elder turned to fix the young female with a penetrating gaze. “Darian was the host of Jarom.”

“Darian...” Vitanre breathed, at a loss for words.

“Evil is once again attempting to capture the spirits...Link, you were called here to help Vitanre in her quest-“

“MY quest?” Vitanre squeaked, paling as she stared incredulously at the elder.

The old woman nodded slowly. “Your quest, my child...you are destined for so much more than a simple life here in this little fishing village...” She then turned to Link. “Who better to protect Vitanre than the hero of Hyrule? It was not coincidence that sent you here Link, you were meant to be here and to help Vitanre.”

Vitanre sat silently, soaking it all in. This wasn’t right...she wasn’t meant for anything special. This had to be a mistake; how could she possibly do something this important? She’d never wielded magic, had never even left the village...

She glanced sideways at Link. He too seemed a bit taken aback, although he appeared more thoughtful than worried, as was Vitanre.

‘Of course this sort of thing wouldn’t worry him...he’s fought more foes, fought for the very existence of Hyrule as we know it...and you’ve never even ventured out beyond the woods where you first met him ’ she thought to herself.

She jumped at the light touch of the elder’s hand upon her own.

“My dears, the responsibility of this quest has been set squarely upon your shoulders, but do not fret.” The elder squeezed Vitanre’s hand comfortingly, and likewise did so to Link. Then, to the slight embarrassment of both Hylians, the elder put both of their hands together. “Together the two of you shall succeed, and all shall be alright,” the elder said, smiling over the two clasped hands.

Link stared down at Vitanre’s hand stuck in his. Her hands were small, compared to his, and yet still seemed just as strong and capable of wielding weapon just like him. He looked up slightly, and saw Vitanre too studied their hands, her face unreadable.

The elder, standing, caused their hands to part. “Now,” the woman said, groaning as she brought her cane forward and infront of her. “If the two of you would...oh, well, if Link would accompany me back to my house, I shall fetch the only map that shows the way to where the medallion rests. You,” and with that, the elder tapped Vitanre smartly on the knee of her good leg, moving with surprising speed for such an aged person. “You will stay here and rest. It will be best for all if you are fully healed before setting out on your quest.”

As the elder began to slowly make her way outside, Link stood, clenching and unclenching the hand that had just held Vitanre’s...it was an odd feeling to say the least. Link didn’t even think he’d ever held Zelda’s hand before, whether by choice or force.

Vitanre sighed heavily, and shifted, having to grab her injured leg and manuever it so that it was back up on the cot and stretched out beside her other.

“Rest well then,” Link said, nodding to her as he swept his saddlebags to his shoulder and left. Her face still wore a troubled expression as she stretched out with her arms flung above her head.

Link quickly caught up with the elder, and together the two made it to her house without trouble. The elder opened the door and entered without so much as a glance back at Link. She led the hylian back to the room he’d been in earlier than very evening. She stopped before a seemingly blank spot on the wall, and turned to Link.

“Behold the legacy of a forgotten man,” she said. She raised a hand, palm facing the wall, and swooped it quickly over the wall’s surface, just barely skimming above the wood. As though it were ice, the wall dissolved away and disappeared, revealing a small square cubby hole set into the wall.

Inside the hole rested a tube that looked like it was a hollowed-out bone of some long extinct beast. The elder reverently removed the tube from the wall and turned it to show a wax stopper stuck on one end to Link.

“Within lies the map...open it only when you have need of it,” the elder warned, handing the stoppered tube to Link, who took it carefully and stowed it away within his tunic.

“Now...go get rested yourself...if I know Vitanre, she’ll want to set out as soon as possible.”

Link only nodded as he left, though he knew he would not get much sleep.

As Link had predicted, he got little sleep...not that he needed much, but he slept for what was left of the night and then when the first rays of the sun had lit the land, he had awakened.

He first went to Meriweather, to look in on Vitanre, but upon arriving there he learned that she had already left.

“Oh sure, as soon as she was able to walk she left, so she did,” Meriweather had told him while forcing a small bottle of her blue potion on him. “It’ll come in handy, I’m thinking,” she’d winked, overpowering his polite refusals.

As Meriweather bustled off, setting her shop back to rights, Link turned to leave and was met at the door by a solemn Adra.

“Vitanre left an hour or so before you arrived,” she said quietly. “She went out into the woods...if I were to guess, I’d say she returned to that clearing she caught you in...”

Link thanked the woman and allowed his footsteps to lead him that way, carefully picking his way over the shattered archway and out into the forest. Surprisingly, he seemed to know exactly where he was going, and soon enough he heard a light swishing sound.

Walking silently, Link edged around a tree and found himself at the clearing. In the middle of that clearing was Vitanre, her scimitar out and performing a miraculous attack routine.

She lunged, dodged imaginary foes, sliced and jabbed, all the while remaining light on her feet and appearing to float through the air. Random direction changes, meant to put her on the defensive against any sort of attack made her appear as though she were practicing a complicated dance...one that she executed beautifully, and without a single misstep that would ruin the poetry of her movements.

She finished up with the salute she’d shown Link back before their fight in the shooting gallery, and then resheathed the scimitar so fast Link could have sworn she’d magicked it there. Almost casually, she then pulled a leather thong from somewhere within her clothing and quickly braided back her hair, swinging the long thing over a shoulder when she was finished.

Standing in silent awe at Vitanre’s back in his hiding spot, Link remained unnoticed by the girl,...or so he thought.

“We should get going,” she said suddenly, snapping Link back to awareness.

He nodded, for words were not needed. She turned, and Link saw a quiet weariness there. She, too, must not have had the greatest night’s sleep...not that he could blame her.

Joining him, the two headed back into the village. She then led him to the stables, which hadn’t been too badly damaged, and led him to Epona’s stall.

Link found that his things had already been placed inside the stall, and as he went in to saddle Epona, Vitanre walked further down the line of stalls and ducked out of sight into one.
The back of the stall opened up into a small pen outside, where Link led Epona when he was finished. A few moments later, Vitanre led a grey horse that was perhaps half a handwidth taller than Epona in the shoulder outside, saddled and ready for departure.

Vitanre opened a small gate in the pen, and led her mount out, Link following with Epona. She swung herself gracefully up into the saddle, Link mounting as well, and both turned their horses towards the forest. Vitanre gave hers a slap and the grey leapt and cleared the remains of the archway easily.

Turning in the saddle to watch him, Vitanre uttered not a word as Link jumped Epona and then pulled even with her. Reaching inside his tunic to pull out the sealed map, Link paused to look at her.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly.

She bit her lip and shook her head. “Of course not...but I shall live. Let us concentrate on the task at hand.”

Link opened the tube and carefully brought out the map, peeling the long- rolled parchment edges out and began to slowly flatten out the map. When he had finished, there was a very detailed map of Merilarmes spread out before him.

Vitanre pulled her mount as close as she could manage to, peering at the map in Link’s hands.

Merilarmes was marked clearly, as was the shoreline and forest surrounding the village. A few caves along the coastal cliffs were marked, along with the Shrine, and paths that crisscrossed through the woods were labeled.

Vitanre’s brow was wrinkled as she studied the map. “This is...remarkably accurate...I recognize everything on that map, but this must have been drawn...who knows how long ago this was drawn.”

“Must be a lingering spell, that changes with time,” Link replied. “But...where are we supposed to be going?”

Slowly, so slowly that at first neither really noticed that it was appearing, a red line materialized on the map. It showed a path leading out of Merilarmes, that headed out of the village and wound through the woods.

“That wasn’t there before...” Vitanre said, pointing to a mark on the map where the red line ended. By appearances, it was a cave in the middle of the forest. And indeed, before the red line had appeared, the marking for the cave was invisible.

Vitanre pulled her mount ahead, and looked around. “Hmm...I don’t know of a path that is anywhere near the one shown on that map...” She took the map from Link and urged her horse forward, turning the map so it lined up with their surroundings. There was the sea, far behind them; the woods on their left and infront of them; the village behind them, beside the sea.

But, no path.
“It appears we’ll have to make our own path then,” Link said behind her.

“Yes...” she said thoughtfully, rolling the map back up carefully and handing it back to Link when he caught up. “The nonexistant path would begin here.” She pointed to a spot within the trees, and then directed her mount there.

The forest here consisted of close trees, and Vitanre dismounted after looking off through the trees for a moment.

“We either walk our mounts through, or take a different route,” she said, patting the nose of the grey as she turned around to face Link.

Link hopped off of Epona and walked to join here. “Walk...there is a reason that a round-about path was marked, instead of a straight line from here to there.”

She nodded, and stepped between the trees, her mount moving along behind her with ease. Link followed with Epona, content to allow Vitanre to lead...she was most familiar with the terrain and creatures, and would be better able to determine where paths once were better than he.

They traveled for many hours, following the meandering woodland path as best as Vitanre could keep them on track. Encountering little more than squirrels and birds, they decided to rest for an hour, before traveling until darkness and exhaustion forced them to stop.

Vitanre tied her horse to a small sapling and then gave it a friendly pat, sighing softly.

“There is a stream just ahead,” she remarked suddenly, head cocked to one side. Link paused and listened...he could just hear running water somewhere infront of them, between the trees.

Vitanre untied her horse and led it forward, following the trickling sound. Link brought Epona and followed behind (he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately) and soon was standing on the bank of a narrow stream.

Its waters were clear and cool to the touch, and just beneath the surface was the occasional silver flash of a fish. Vitanre’s mount lowered its head and began to drink, and Link allowed Epona to edge up beside it and drink also...which left both hylians staring awkwardly at each other.

It was Vitanre to looked away first. “I’m going to look around...I haven’t been out this far before, so I only know what I’ve seen on maps...” and with that, she left, disappearing back the way they had come.

Link leaned against a tree, keeping a watchful eye on the horses and listening to the tranquil burbling of the water. He shut his eyes a moment, feeling a light breeze wind its way through the trees. A rustle behind him made him open his eyes again and turn that way.It was only Vitanre returning. She gave him a soft smile and headed for her horse again.

Link watched her walk...did she walk that way before? For some reason, she really seemed to catch his eye this time. She neared the horses, and Epona nickered suddenly and bolted. Link let out a sound of surprise and caught at her reins as the horse tried to run past. Digging in his feet, Link halted her run.

Behind him, Vitanre was likewise calming her own horse.

“What was that about?” Link asked, leading a reluctant Epona back.

“I don’t know...perhaps a snake, or a shadow upon the water,” Vitanre said, yanking down hard on the reins when the frightened horse tried to rear. It came thumping down back to all four hooves firmly on the ground and snorted into the girl’s face.

“Easy you,” she said. She went to stroke its nose and the horse bit at her. “Whoa, what is wrong?” Vitanre murmured, bringing her face close to the horse.

Finally, the horse quieted.

“Better,” she said, stroking its nose once more.

Link, unknowingly, had been slowly edging towards Vitanre. As though waking from a sleep, he blinked and noticed how close he was. Bright, beautiful purple eyes looked out at him from beneath a wisp of blonde hair that had escaped from the braid.

“Something wrong?” she asked simply, locking gazes with him.

‘Has she struck you dumb?’ a small voice in the back of Link’s brain was laughing at him as he tried to reorganize his thoughts. He tore his eyes away and stared at the ground, clearing his throat.

“Uh, no, nothing,” he said, hoping she didn’t notice the slight quavering in his voice.

Apparently, she took no notice, but instead took a few steps towards him.

“Are you sure there is nothing wrong?” she asked shyly, reaching out and resting a hand on his shoulder, those bright purple eyes staring.

Her touch was electric, making Link flinch as though she’d just stabbed him with her blade. Just as immediately, his entire body went semi-limp and he fell to his knees. Alarms went off in his mind...this wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right with Vitanre.

She dropped down with him, hand still resting on his shoulder. As he looked at her, her gentle smile became a wicked grin, and she leaned in close. From her mouth came a fine silvery mist that hit Link squarely in the face, causing Link to go into a coughing fit...and then his entire body went rigid, with only his eyes free to blink and move.
Trapped in his kneeling position, Link watched as Vitanre slid, almost bonelessly, infront of him. Her mouth hung open and her eyes glittered dangerously. A low hiss escaped her lips as she drew them back in snarl, displaying long black fangs.
Eyes widening, Link struggled with his unresponsive body. He tried to move, to punch or slap or fall backwards away from this creature. Even a muscle twitch or a cry for help would have been welcome.

But now, all he could do was helplessly watch as those curved black fangs came arching in at his unprotected throat as the creature suddenly lunged for him.

“HYAH! ”

A dark shape slammed into the snarling creature and knocked it askew. Link strained his eyes, trying to look sideways as the two figures rolled wildly on the ground. One braced its legs and hurled the other off, and Link cringed at the sound of bones popping as it crashed into a tree.

Vitanre leapt to her feet, scimitar flashing in the late afternoon sun, and lunged for the stunned thing still crumpled at the foot of the tree.

It saw her coming and hissed menacingly, pushing off the tree to meet Vitanre’s charge. It nimbly dodged the hylian’s leading slash and pushed close to snap with those sharp fangs. Vitanre ducked the jaws and prodded at the creature’s ribs, gashing a shallow cut just below the ribcage.

In enraged fury, the creature suddenly swiped at Vitanre with fury-powered strength and sent the girl flying backwards to land in the stream. Vitanre groaned slightly as a sharp rock jabbed into her kidneys, and looked up to see the thing making one last charge. She shoved herself to her feet and lashed out.

The creature yowled for a split second, before Vitanre’s blade took its head from its shoulders.

Panting slightly and dripping, Vitanre sheathed her weapon and turned to Link’s still form.

“Well, I see you’ve met one of our least-liked creatures,” she said, coming to kneel beside him.

Link could only blink at her, and she sighed and shook her head.

“Don’t bother trying. For the next few hours you’ll be as stiff as ship timbers.” She paused, looking around a moment, before turning her attention back to Link.

“That was a syrin, nasty sort of thing. It’s uncommon to see them this far inland...they normally dwell on the sea shore. No one knows where they come from...most sailors say that when a woman dies on the sea, far from her home, her soul becomes a syrin,” Vitanre shook her head. “Horrible...horrible things, syrins. They prey only on males...” she pointed at her head. “Mind-things, they befuddle men and lead them away, then kill them. You’ve been infected with their venom, but it will wear off in a few hours...” Then, she looked at him with pity in her eyes. “You’ll be feverish and in pain, so I suggest we stay here for the night.”

She gently placed her hands upon his shoulders and tipped him sideways. Link’s legs stayed bent, his back stayed straight as a rod, and still only his eyes moved. Breathing was difficult, but eased slightly as Vitanre laid him on his side in the grass.

A heavy sigh came from above as Vitanre stood up and went to the horses. She dug around in her saddle bags and came out with a small leather bag, which she carried back with her as she sat down near Link’s head. She reached two fingers into the bag and pulled out a white bulb that was perhaps the size of her thumbnail. Crushing it between her palms, she held the oozing item beneath Link’s nose.The acrid smell of crushed vegetation stung his nostrils and burned all the way down into his lungs. He sputtered and coughed and his eyes began to water, and Vitanre quickly removed the bulb from his face.

“Take a few deep breaths...you should be able to speak now,” she said, dunking her hands into the stream and swishing them back and forth vigorously.

Link did so, and found that he was in fact capable of speech now.

“What was that?” he asked, the lingering scent of that bulb still in his nose.

“We call it a fume seed...its horrible smell makes your eyes water and makes you cough...a handy, partial cure for syrin venom; it gets some of it out of you quickly,” Vitanre said, leaning down so he could see her.

“I feel like a statue laying here...” Link grumbled.

Vitanre held her hands out helplessly. “I’m sorry, I can’t do anything for you at the moment...its too soon. All I can do is try to make you comfortable for the night.”

She hopped back to her feet and went to the horses once more. Epona nipped at her at first, then stood quietly as Vitanre removed the saddlebags from first her and then her own grey. Patting both horses, she allowed then to graze freely beside the stream, then bent to her bags. From inside them, she pulled a black cloak free and shook it out, then folded it quickly.

Returning to Link’s side, she slid this makeshift pillow beneath his head. He was going to be stuck on his side for a long time, but at least he wouldn’t have his face laying in the grass.

The hours passed slowly...Link found himself dozing off on occasion, for what else was there to do? Vitanre wasn’t being very talkative; in fact, she was stretched out beside Link, her hand resting on her scimitar in its scabbard, staring at nothing.

It was darkening quickly, but Link detected a faint light coming from somewhere in the direction of his feet.

“What is that?” he asked finally, giving up on forcing movement to look for himself.

Vitanre’s eyes briefly flicked over that way, then back to her aimless gazing. “It’s the moonlight reflecting off the surface of the sea...it’s ungodly bright in the Shrine on nights where there’s a full moon.” She shifted, rolling onto her side to look at him. “Besides the obvious, are you alright?”

Link frowned. “As best as can be imagined, I suppose. It is not a chill night, and the evening has passed without incident.”

Vitanre frowned and sighed. “That’s what I fear, though...it’s been too peaceful.”
After that, neither talked.When Link awoke the next morning, he was stiff from laying in the same position for a prolonged period of time, but was able to move normally again. He sat up, stretching and grimacing as aches made themselves known, and took a deep breath.

Vitanre was stretched out beside him on her back, one hand thrown over her head while the other rested close enough to the scabbard upon her belt to draw scimitar if the need arose. Her chest rose and fell gently, a somewhat troubled look upon her face as she slumbered. Link was about to reach out and tap her when, as though she hadn’t been asleep at all, she opened her eyes and they focused on him.

Hastily, Link drew his hand back as she sat up and then stood.

“We should be going,” was all she said, picking up her saddlebags from where she’d left them the night before. She took a few steps towards the horses, and then noticed that there were no ‘horses.’ Epona was there, but her grey was missing.

“Haka...” she growled, raising two fingers to her lips and blowing. A shrill whistle cut through the morning silence, and a nickering sounded from just beyond in the trees.

Haka the grey trotted out of the trees and clomped across the stream to Vitanre. The hylian gave the horse a clout between the ears and slung her saddlebags back onto the beast. She turned to find Link ready and waiting for her.

A quick check of the map, to set themselves on the proper ‘path,’ and then they were off once more.

Hours later, just past midday, they reached the end of the path. Before them was pile of rock set against the side of a small hillside.

“This is the place marked on the map...” Vitanre said, dismounting and approaching the rock pile cautiously. She kneeled and passed a hand over the stony surface, closing her eyes.

Link came up behind her, and she turned to him.

“I feel magic pulsing beneath...” she said.

Link kneeled beside her and studied the rock. “Then this must truly be where the medallion is secreted.” Then, he looked at her, brow furrowing in mild surprise. “You can feel magic?”

Vitanre turned from him, face reddening ever so slightly. “Yes...I always have. There has to be a fair amount of magic in an item for me to sense it though...like, your ocarina,” she said, pointing to where it was stuck in his belt. “And your sword, of course.”

Link nodded thoughtfully. “A useful talent...”
She shrugged, still a bright red.

“Now...to budge this pile of rock...I’d stand back if I were you,” Link said, pulling a bomb from his pouch and setting it within the jumble of stones. It hissed madly as it prepared to go off, and Link and Vitanre both stepped back several steps.

One explosion later, an opening disappearing down into the earth was revealed. Link walked to the opening, seeing that a stairwell started two feet before the hole he’d made, and then went forward six feet before curving around a corner from sight.

He dropped down and walked over to look around the corner. As far as he could tell, the stairwell continued on, curving again...it was most likely a spiral staircase carved into the natural stone of the land. Facing him now was a deep inky blackness, from which he could distinguish nothing that was further than four feet infront of him.

“We’ll need a light,” he said, turning around to see Vitanre drop in behind him. She nodded and reached into her smock and pulled out a gnarled stick. She gave it a crack over her knee and snapped it in half and instantly, the immediate area was flooded with light.

Shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness, Link squinted at the glowing thing Vitanre held. “What is that?”

“Fire coral sticks,” she said, covering the glow with a hand so that it was not so painful to the eyes in the enclosed space. “Fire coral is deadly while still alive in the water, but when bits of it break off in bad storms and wash ashore, you can gather it safely and dry it. As you can see, they make for handy lanterns when you crack them.”

Link nodded, thinking he would have to get a few of those himself, and then headed down the stairs. Vitanre followed close behind him, holding out the coral stick, but pointing it at the ground so she did not blind herself or Link. They went around and down the stairs, spiraling downwards for quite some time before they came to an iron-bound wooden door.

Vitanre stepped past Link and touched the door, then shoved it open. Groaning open on long unused hinges, the door swung open slowly and gave the hylians a view of the room beyond it.

It was a rough rectangle, with a single door in the entire room. Large clay pots stood in every corner, three a piece, and the walls were made of brick-like stones. Link stepped back infront of Vitanre and walked in cautiously, sword now drawn.

Vitanre stuck the coral stick into her belt, lighted end pointing towards the floor, and drew her own weapon as she took three steps and crossed through the doorway. Without warning, the door swung shut behind her, just clipping the heel of one boot. Vitanre pulled at the handle, but couldn’t budge the heavy door; even when Link pulled with her, the door remained shut.

Vitanre’s eyes suddenly widened as the hair rose on the back of her neck. Both she and Link turned back to face into the room, and saw a great black specter hanging in the air before them.
The specter made no move towards them, but simply floated and stared. It appeared as though someone had tossed a black cloak into the air and it had simply decided to hang there. A cowl was drawn forward and hid the face (if it had one) and its ‘body’ shimmered in the air around it.Boldly, Vitanre stepped towards it, meeting the gaze of the faceless being.

The specter raised a handless arm to halt her movement.

“I am the ghost of Tsuko, the sorceror who created the Spirit Medallion,” the thing rasped in a voice that literally was painful to listen to. Vitanre covered her ears, her teeth gritted, and even Link found himself hunching his shoulders in a futile attempt to block out the horrible voice.

“Thy seek my medallion, and I offer you the warning I have offered many in turn,” it went on.

“If thy be evil, and hold ill intentions within your mind and soul, you shall be killed before you reach your prize. Only pure of heart may overcome the many safeguards I have set upon this place to protect my creation. Hold you the truth of justice and right within yourself, and rest assured that thy shall pass through to the medallion. You have been warned.”

And with those last words ringing in the air, the specter disappeared.

Link stared at the place the specter had been last, then blinked as he saw Vitanre cross to the door and place a hand on its handle.

He hurried up and made it to her side just as she pulled the door open. It too moaned open, and Vitanre stepped inside. Link followed, then staggered as soon as he crossed the threshold. Thinking he had tripped, Vitanre began to turn back to him when a rustling sound made her snap her attention back to in front of her.

A perfect copy of herself stepped forward, grinning nastily. Behind the real Vitanre, Link had dropped to one knee, his mind reeling.

Vitanre looked from first Link to the copy back to Link, and whipped her scimitar out.

“Syrin...” she growled, taking a step forward. Then, from the shadows beside the first one, stepped another Vitanre...and then another one. All three were perfect copies of the real Vitanre, and all three were concentrating their effort on disabling Link.

Vitanre took a step back and looked behind her. Link was on all fours, eyes squeezed shut as he fought to throw off the influence of not one, but three syrin minds. Her eyes narrowed in determination, and she gave Link a rough kick that sent him flying out into the first room, then she elbowed the door shut.

Before her, all three syrins pulled out identical scimitars and held them in identical battle stances.

Vitanre glared and dropped into her own battle stance. “Very well then. You can copy my form, but can you copy my skills as well?” she growled as the three leapt for her.

Vitanre tensed, ready to meet their charge, when then all simultaneously reversed direction in midair and touched back down to the ground.

Slowly, the three stalked forward, the same smug grin plastered across their faces.

Vitanre returned the smiles with a sneer. “You shall not get at Link, not without getting through me first, and your powers do not affect me.”

“You are a worthless mortal being,” the middle syrin hissed.

“You shall not keep us from feeding,” the left one added.

“We have spent centuries in this cursed hole in the ground, with only ocassional meat wandering into our home,” the last one said. “We hunger for flesh.”

Vitanre’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll gladly end your torment, just step forward.”

“Fool,” the middle one snarled, and the three once again attacked at once.

Scimitar whipping out to turn away all three thrusting blades, Vitanre shuffled her feet forward as she worked her weapon from side to side to force her attackers back and get some space between her back and the door behind her. Expertly, she threw jabs and thrusts out wide to the sides, all the while keeping her scimitar weaving a defensive wall between herself and the syrins, never once leaving an opening for a blade to slip in.

Alone, a single syrin would have been no match for Vitanre’s swordsmanship...but three of them together were proving to be a decent match as she was made to constantly keep her weapon moving to prevent being stabbed or skewered. Vitanre gritted her teeth as she kept up her defensive pattern...any attempt to go on the offensive would put her at risk of attack from one syrin or another.

Testing, she suddenly slashed low at the feet of one of the syrins. As expected, one of the other two syrins came in at her back and swiped down to cut Vitanre’s feet from beneath her. Vitanre gracefully leapt over the blade, and up and over the creature, to land on her feet with the three in front of her once more.

‘Blast it...’ she thought bitterly. ‘This is going to take a while...’

Meanwhile, back in the room of the specter, Link pulled himself to his feet. The dazing effects of the syrins had worn off, and the sounds of swordplay were coming through the door loud enough to worry Link. Vitanre was still in there...although he had gauged her skill against one adversary, how was she faring against three?

Carefully, Link moved to the door and opened it a crack, ready to slam it shut again at the slightest sign of syrin attention. What met his eyes was the sight of four Vitanres all dueling in the center of the room.Momentarily forgetting about the dazing effects of syrin power, Link fully stepped into the room. “Vitanre! ”

“What?” all four answered.

Link blinked...he couldn’t tell them apart “Which one are you?”

“I’m right here!”

“Don’t listen to that beast! I’m here! ”

“Foul, deceiving creature! Do not let it fool you! ”

“I am here! Right here! ”

At that moment, Vitanre (the REAL Vitanre) noted that the syrins attacks became aimed at one another, as well at her.

‘All to befuddle Link! And he cannot tell the real me from them! ’

As though he heard Vitanre’s thought, Link shook his head in frustration...all four looked exactly the same, and were all moving in such flurrying movements that it was impossible to pick Vitanre’s fighting style out of the group. “I can’t tell who’s who! Why aren’t I fainting?”

“Syrins must devote attention to confuse a male! ” one answered, with a mighty thrust high at the head of the Vitanre in front of it, who nimbly dodged.

“I’m keeping them busy enough that they can’t! ” a second answered.

Link helplessly let his sword point drop towards the floor. “...give me some sort of hint here, Vitanre! ”

One of them turned. “Syrins don’t bleed!”

That one, that had just spoken, blocked a swipe just as another cut at her hand. With a cry of pain, the Vitanre stumbled back and grasped at her hand as a severed finger dropped to the stone floor with a splat.

No blood fell from the wound.

“Curse you! ” the injured syrin screeched.

“You gave away the key to your destruction to try and protect yourself, now you pay! Kill it, Link! ” another said, blocking an overhead slash and then kicking her attacker away with a toe to the gut.

Link came forward, Master Sword raising. The syrin backpedaled and struggled to get her weapon up to block Link’s mighty swing, but the Master Sword cleaved right through the scimitar and sliced the creature open from left shoulder to right hip. Squealing, the syrin fell into two pieces to the ground. Link nudged its lower half with his toe...again, no blood. Good, that meant he’d killed a syrin and not the actual Vitanre.

That left three...one real, two syrins. But...how was he going to tell them apart?

Suddenly, one of them helped him to distinguish. She whirled around and drew her weapon across the top of her opposite hand...and bright red blood seeped from the cut.

Turning back just in time to block a slash that would have taken an arm off, Vitanre was then forced to fold in on herself and suck in her stomach to avoid being gutted by the second syrin. Now holding her scimitar with two hands to lend more power to her attacks, and being careful not to allow the blade to fall from blood-slicked fingers, Vitanre began to back up towards Link.

Something whizzed past her ear and parted the hair of one of her attackers. Partially glancing over a shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Link down on one knee, his bow raised with another arrow knocked and tracking. The syrins suddenly realized their danger and began to scramble away, to try and get out of Link’s range, but the hylian pegged one in the throat with a well-aimed arrow and it dropped to the floor.

Leaving its flailing fellow where it was, the last syrin turned and began to flee for the safety of the shadows. Vitanre leapt over the ailing creature thrashing about on the floor and slammed full force into the back of the fleeing syrin.

It screamed as Vitanre’s weight bore them both to the ground. As it squirmed beneath her, Vitanre found the hollow in its lower back and plunged her scimitar down in a reversed two-handed grip. The syrin beneath her bucked and screeched, the scimitar having found the spine of the thing. Pulling her weapon free, Vitanre plunged it down into the back of the neck, and the creature finally fell still.

Standing, Vitanre turned to see Link checking to be sure he’d killed the syrin he’d shot. She sheathed her scimitar and tugged at a sleeve as he stood and turned to her.

“That wasn’t so hard...”

“Mmmhmmm...” she hummed idly, seizing the edge of her sleeve with her teeth and ripping off a strip of fabric, which she wound around her oozing hand.

That taken care of, she grinned at Link. “Sorry to steal your fun. You can have the next batch of monsters all to yourself if you want.”

Link sighed and shook his head, and couldn’t help but grin. It was truly the first time she’d actually smiled since they’d left Merilarmes. He looked at her, as she turned towards the next door.

“Shall we move on then?”

Link nodded curtly, and moved to open the door. Beyond it was a room just like the last one, which was just like the first one...this dungeon was pretty straightforward. Defeat the foes to gain access to the next room.

They slowly edged in, weapons out now and ready to move at the slightest movement. There was no sound, besides that of a slow drip of water hitting stone. Fitting, considering the room was cold and damp, and smelled of mold and mildew. Water was indeed dripping from the ceiling, forming deep puddles on the floor. As of yet, no nasty had shown itself.

They reached the middle of the small room, still without any trouble. Both hylians were getting slightly edgy now...there was a definite wrong feeling to this room. Eyes searched every shadow and corner, one looking forward and one keeping an eye on their backs.

Link paused then, looking around slowly, giving the entire room a once- over. Vitanre moved close, their shoulders nearly touching, and shut her eyes. She took several deep breaths, extending her senses as far as she could force them....then-

“Link! ” was all she managed to cry out, her eyes snapping open, as suddenly the floor became ceiling and vice versa. Their feet left the floor and they plummeted upside down, to smack roughly into the ceiling that was now floor to them.

Link landed hard on his side, all the air rushing out of him in a whoosh and leaving him gasping and momentarily stunned. Vitanre landed by his side on her back, grunting upon impact and then laying there still, moaning in pain.

Dropping down, nearly ontop of them, came two stalfos. With a bellow, the skeleton creatures attacked. Link and Vitanre rolled opposite directions as the gnarled sword of one stalfo came crashing down between them.

Link rolled up to his feet and held his shield up to block as the stalfos separated and came after them. A few more blows connected with his shield before he managed to get his sword up, and then he slashed at the feet of the stalfo before him. It leapt back, then forward again in a powerful lunge. Link side-stepped and slashed, grating his sword down the shield arm of the creature. Grunting, the stalfo began to circle, shield held at the ready.

Off to the side, Vitanre was scrambling away from her stalfo as it mercilessly chased her down. She hadn’t yet made it to her feet, the stalfo pursuing her having landed closer to her than Link’s had, and she being without a shield had put her at an immediate disadvantage. Glancing behind her and seeing that red blade raising for an attack, she flipped over and quickly raised her own weapon to block.

The stalfo’s sword hit hard and true, and sent Vitanre’s scimitar flying from her hands and skittering across the floor. She kicked out roughly and struck the stalfo’s shield and sent it stumbling back just far enough for her to roll to her feet at last. But...now the creature stood between her and her weapon.

Grimacing as it began to circle her, Vitanre reached a hand behind herself and to her belt...and pulled out a whip. It was long and made of cured leather, with a heavy lead ball sewn into the end...it was a whip that Darian had made. Just holding the whip made her feel stronger, and closer to her kidnapped brother.
She dodged to the side as the stalfo hopped forward and slashed, and expertly cracked the whip and smacked the tip of the whip into the shield with a loud clang. Stepping back as it reversed its swing and came for her again, Vitanre swished the whip around and cracked it into the shoulder joint of the stalfo. With a sound that resembled dry leaves crunching underfoot, the shoulder shattered and the arm bearing the sword dropped to the ground.

“Well, come on then,” Vitanre grinned as the stalfo seemed to stare at its own arm for a moment.

Now, it charged, hoping to batter her down with the shield. Vitanre threw herself into a forward roll past the creature and scooped up the dropped blade...shaking off the severed arm in the process of course. Now armed once more, she stuck the whip back into her belt and gripped the sword with both hands. It was heavy and awkward compared to her scimitar, but her own blade had been knocked out of sight and she wasn’t about to spend time looking for it while the stalfo was still after her.

Vitanre took a step and swung the heavy sword at the creature’s head, solidly connecting and knocking the stalfo teetering sideways. She swung again and took its head and half its ribcage off, and finally the stalfo fell to the ground in a clatter of bones...it was defeated. The sword in her hand disintegrated along with the body of its fallen master. Now, Vitanre looked over to check on Link.

Link was no beginner when it came to defeating stalfos. He had long before beaten his, and had been watching Vitanre battle with her stolen blade. He nodded to her, impressed at her skill and inventiveness. She flushed (her face turning so bright red Link could have sworn she was glowing as brightly as the fire coral stick still stuck in her belt) and made her way over to him.

“What were those?” she asked, taking time now to look around for her missing scimitar.

“Stalfos. Mean thi-whoa!”

Suddenly, the world righted itself, and Link and Vitanre hit the REAL floor not quite as hard as they had hit the ceiling. Link sat up and saw Vitanre, eyes wide, anxiously staring upward...in fact, you might say she was franctically searching the ceiling for-

TWANG!

Landing right between Link’s ankles, point buried into the crack between two stones, came Vitanre’s scimitar.

“Uh...there it is?” she said sheepishly.

Link blinked at her...then actually began to chuckle. He got to his feet and yanked the scimitar free, then handed it handle-first back to Vitanre as she too got to her feet.

“Next door then...” he said, once she’d recoiled the whip and stuck it back into her belt. She nodded, shifting her grip on the hilt of the scimitar.
Link crossed the last few feet to the door (without any more room tilts) and pushed it open. To his eyes...the next room was filled with a lush forest. Warily, he stepped inside, Vitanre following close behind, both alert for any sort of movement. There was a narrow path through the room that lead to yet another door, flanked on each side with trees who’s tops disappeared in the darkness of the ceiling. Grass a pleasant shade of green sprouted everywhere, muffling the footsteps of the hylians as they went a few steps further into the room.

“It’s as though...we just walked back outside...” Vitanre remarked, staring incredulously at a low-hanging tree branch. It all seemed very real.

“Be ready...anything could happen in a room like this...” Link warned.

“Indeed.”

Both jumped and strained their eyes, looking for the owner of that voice.

“Who’s there?” Vitanre asked, bringing her scimitar up and pointing it towards the middle of the copse of trees.

A rustle from the greenery, and an odd creature dropped down. It had the approximate shape of an average hyrulian male...but was covered in lurid green feathers that glistened in the light cast from Vitanre’s fire coral. Sprouting from its back were large wings akin to those of a hawk, colored a slightly darker green than the body. On its hands were three-inch long black talons, instead of fingernails...and they could only guess that his feet were clawed as well.

In its crouching position, neither Link nor Vitanre could see the curiosity’s face...only its bowed head and quivering wings. As though it had read their minds, the being stood slowly. As it raised up, it lifted its head and stared at the hylians with blood-red eyes. Its facial features were also hyrulian-based...in all, the creature looked like a strange cross between man and bird.

“And what are you?” Vitanre asked, eyes narrowing.

“You may call me Marl. I am the last safeguard the grand Tsuko placed to protect his medallion. I alone test individuals who would make the medallion their own. If you can best me in combat, I shall allow you to pass. If not, then your bones shall lay here with the others, to turn to dust,” the creature said simply with a shrug of its feathered shoulders.

“I see no bones,” Link said. “How can we know that the medallion lies beyond that door?”

Marl clucked his tongue and shook his head. “One lesson you should learn is never take things at face value.” With that, he flung out his arms to the sides and screeched loudly. At once, the beautiful forest melted away, having been just a grand illusion, and behind the green was yet another dank and dreary stone and earth room...with the bones of seemingly two dozen beings strewn about the place.
“If you never learn to look beyond what is there, then your remains shall fall here and now,” Marl said, lowering his arms and clicking his teeth together. “Do you believe yourself worthy to pass me?”

Vitanre stepped forward, silent fires burning in her gaze as she lifted her gleaming scimitar into fighting stance. “I will pass. The life of my brother and the fate of a land depends on it.”
“I too shall pass,” Link said, stepping up beside Vitanre. “I have seen hardship, suffering and despair at the hands of pure evil, and have vanquished my fair share of enemies. I will not step down from my fate.”

“Determination is the key to success. I applaud you on that,” Marl said. “But...you shall not pass me with fancy words and truths! You shall FIGHT!”

With that, Marl flung himself at the two hylians, all pretense of blinking bird-man gone; now replaced with a clicking, hissing mad beast that winged its way forwards, slashing with sharp talons that would tear them to pieces.

Link caught the first assault on the Master Sword, sparks flying as claw and steel clashed together. He was forced to bring his shield up, and Vitanre was forced to duck, as Marl began to beat them with his powerful wings.

Suddenly, Marl pushed off roughly and shot up into the darkness, out of sight.

“And so we begin ” he shouted down from his hiding place...leaving the hylians no choice but to watch closely and be ready for his attacks...

Link eyed the space above them, searching for any sign of Marl. ‘You would think a bright green bird the size of me would stand out against plain stone,’ he thought wryly.

Minutes ticked past, and the room was silent except for the rustling of cloth as the hylians shifted positions and the scuffling of feet on the floor.

“Creeeargh!”

From the darkness, Marl swooped with a sudden hair-raising screech. His intended target being Link, he did not sway away from giving Vitanre a rough kick to the shoulder as he flew past her. Her sleeve ripped at the seam, caught upon one of his trailing talons as he went by.

Link brought up his shield and Marl slammed into it, both arms reaching around to claw at Link’s unprotected face. Too close for his sword to be of any use, Link leaned back to avoid having his eyes gouged out by those raking talons, and Marl used the opportunity to knock Link flat onto his back...now able to use both hands and feet as he slashed at the pinned male. Link reversed his grip on the hilt and brought it up to bludgeon at the flapping menance, the two combatants being too close together...Link would risk injuring himself in such close quarters.

Marl grunted as the pommel of the sword clacked across the back of one hand, sending a tingling sensation up his arm and momentarily making that hand useless. A sound behind him, and the feathered head turned to spy Vitanre approaching quickly from behind. With a snarl, he leapt off of Link and disappeared back into the shadows of the ceiling.

The brief scuffle with Marl, which had seemed to drag on to Link, had only taken as long as it took for Vitanre to run the mere seven feet separating the two hylians

“This creature is fast,” Vitanre said. “Fast and stealthy...he strikes without warning and then retreats back to hide.”

Link got to his feet. “Do not let him get too close or your weapon will be useless.”

Vitanre ran a finger lightly down the flat of her blade. “We shall see,” she said quietly, eyes narrowing as they searched for a glimpse of their adversary.

Tension seemed to crackle in the air, and still there was no further sign of Marl. Vitanre slowly revolved in place, peering into each corner of the room...and then was lifted from her feet with a squeal as Marl seemed to materialize behind her and bury his talons into the fabric of her smock. Vitanre slashed over her head, and the bird-man changed his grip from hands to feet and began to lift her up, keeping his legs out of the reach of the flashing scimitar.

Link whirled around at her out cry and stabbed up at Marl from behind. Marl growled and let Vitanre drop (he’d only managed to lift her perhaps a foot off the ground) and angrily she stabbed upwards at the green mass of feathers.

Marl hissed and flipped backwards in mid-air, coming to a light landing with both legs firmly beneath him, eight feet away from the hylians. He faced them squarely, a smug look on his face. He spread both wings wide as the two stalked forward...and then he whipped them forward. Green feathers, their shafts pointed at the hylians, streaked towards them with deadly accuracy.

Vitanre fell flat on the ground, the projectiles whistling by overhead. Link threw up his shield and listened as the feathers clinked of its metal surface. Turning her face a bit, Vitanre seized a feather laying on the ground beside her that had ricocheted off of Link’s shield and tapped it. It was as solid as stone, and the shaft tips were as sharp as her scimitar’s blade.

She stood and started to move away from Link, to try and force Marl to concentrate his barrage on one or the other, but, moving independently of one another, Marl continued to hurl his feather-arrows at both...Vitanre could be four feet or forty feet away from Link, and he’d STILL be able to aim at and hit her.

With a growl, she dropped to the ground again.

“Link! They’re like arrows! ” she called out, rolling to the side as another volley of green feathers came her direction. She rolled over to Link, who was still behind his shield, and then rolled up to her feet. She pressed her back flat to his, trusting in him to protect the both of them...and then she got an idea.

She carefully turned around, gritting her teeth as a feather clinked off the very edge of the shield and narrowly missed her face. She patted Link’s shoulder to get his attention. Only his eyes shifted to view her as she put her mouth close to his ear.

“Kneel a moment,” she said. “I’ve got an idea.” ‘He has to stand still to throw his feather-arrows, and while he may be able to aim at both at the same time...I doubt he can fire up and down at the same time...he won’t have us pinned down for much longer if this works,’ she thought.

Link dropped to one knee, angling his shield to face upwards and slightly to the left, sending the feathers ricocheting harmlessly across the room...and then he nearly sprawled over forwards as something hit him from behind.

Behind Link, Vitanre had stepped back...then taken a quick running leap, using Link’s shoulder as something to push off of. She tucked into a ball and flipped over, clearing the feathers and heading straight for Marl.

The feathered being, having been just in the middle of another barrage, was totally surprised by and unprepared for Vitanre’s desperate leap over Link. As the hylian came down to her feet, her scimitar flashed out and gouged a deep cut across Marl’s abdomen: a blow that would have been fatal had Marl’s agility not saved him.

With a squawk, Marl hopped back, one hand held to his chest, his feathery onslaught now halted.

“Clever, most clever,” he growled, making an odd whistling noise as he snorted suddenly.
Vitanre held her scimitar between herself and Marl, ready to defend herself against the retaliation that was certain to come from the wounded being.
With another loud snort, Marl smiled nastily, reaching up to seize his own jaw and wrench it sideways, resulting in a loud pop followed by another nasty smile. “You’ll regret that one, miss.” He inhaled deeply, then his entire body arched as he snapped his neck forward, his mouth gaping impossibly wide open. From within his mouth came a roiling green fireball that rocketed towards Vitanre.

Moving quickly, Vitanre tried to both deflect it away with her blade and duck. With a resounding ‘bang ’ the fireball hit the scimitar and sent it flying, along with its wielder, to slam up against the far wall. Stunned, Vitanre hit the floor just as hard as she hit the wall, her scimitar clanking to the stone beside her.

Marl hissed and flung himself after the helpless Vitanre, and was intercepted by Link before he got more than a few feet. Marl took to wing and fluttered about just out of Link’s reach above his head.

Jabbing at him to make him keep his distance, Link backed up to place himself between Marl and Vitanre. A quick glance behind himself showed that Vitanre was just now pulling herself to her feet, blinking groggily and groping about for her blade. Fending off a charge that was more to put Link on guard than to actually do damage, he watched as Marl flew up into the shelter of the darkness once more.

“Are you all right?” Link asked, eyes turned up towards the ceiling.

“I’m fine...he knocked me for one, but I’ll be fine in a few moments...curse him, where’s my blade?” Vitanre said, growling as she looked around for her weapon, which seemed to have disappeared. “Oh, wait, there it is,” she went on, suddenly spying the scimitar laying up next to the wall near the corner.

Leaving the protected area Link had lent her, Vitanre slowly moved to retrieve it, keeping one eye focused above her as she went. She had just closed one hand around the hilt of the blade when something whooshed down out of the shadows.

With a startled yelp, Vitanre dropped her scimitar as the gnarled vine that had just snared her wrist gave a mighty jerk, nearly taking her off her feet. Lunging forward against the pull, Vitanre snatched up the dropped blade as another vine shot down and wrapped itself around the elbow of the ensnared arm.

She viciously chopped through both vines...and then dove backwards as a multitude of them whistled down from above.

Within seconds, Vitanre found herself backpedaling away from grasping vines that snaked their way towards her, doing their best to snag her. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed Link coming to help her, the vines growing more numerous by the second, when-
FWUMP
“Ksssss...” Marl landed just behind her, a mad light glittering in his eyes. Vitanre growled, attention torn between fending off vines and now this new threat at her back. Link rushed forward to help her; why wasn’t anything attacking him?
Turning so fast he became a green blur, Marl spun around to smack aside Link’s sword swing and then deliver a hard blow to Link’s hastily put up shield that sent a shock all the way up the hylian’s arm and sending him staggering back a step.

Working her blade frantically back and forth, Vitanre was rapidly trying to shuffle her way around Marl while still avoiding vines. The feathered menace had other plans in mind, however.

“You pay,” he hissed, “for this.” And with that, he pointed to the gash across his middle. Leaping forward, he swung a closed fist at her.

Ducking as quick as she could, Vitanre was still clipped by the blow and knocked sideways...into the waiting vines. They wrapped themselves around her, drawing her arms in tight by her sides and painfully binding themselves around her chest, making breathing difficult.

Marl flung both arms out at Link now, punctuating the movement with a gutteral snarl. Suddenly, the earth beneath Link’s feet became like water, and Link plunged down up to his knees in the muck. As quickly as it had become liquid, the ground resolidified, trapping Link in the ground, too far away to attack his captor.

Marl surveyed his two captives. “Tsuko wards his treasure well. I must admit that this was the longest fight anyone has ever put up...it was all fun and games until your female friend was rude and cut me...and for that, she dies first.” Marl turned to Vitanre and slashed with both hands, leaving deep cuts where skin showed through the mass of vines. Grimacing at the sharp pains, Vitanre stared balefully at him as he slashed again and followed through with a kick to the gut that would have doubled her over had she been standing under her own power.

Wheezing, short of breath to begin with, Vitanre vaguely wondered which would kill her first...lack of air, or Marl’s continual blows. Black was beginning to creep into the edges of her vision, and so when Marl suddenly screamed in pain and flew past her (and not by his own choice), Vitanre wondered if she was truly seeing things. Blinking, she spied Link stuck in the earth up to his knees, hand poised as though he had just thrown something. The smell of singed feathers and flesh reached her nose, and she understood: he’d thrown a bomb at Marl’s turned back.

Straining in her leafy bonds, Vitanre turned to see Marl sprawled out, wings askew around him, laying face down on the ground with faint wisps of smoke rising from a ghastly scorch mark on his back. She heard a rustle, then a hissing noise, and turned back in time to see Link lob another bomb at the stunned creature. It hit just beside Marl, and blasted him across the room with a bang and another screech, where he landed in a heap and stayed there.

Vitanre felt the vines go slack; the magic controlling them must be controlled by Marl, as in he had to be concentrating to hold them in place and order them about. Vitanre wriggled until her blade arm was free, and then hacked herself free, chopped bits of greenery raining down around her.
Throwing a glance and a nod at Link, she ran to where Marl lay. Standing over him, she saw that his eyes were shut; he was unconscious. Staring down at something that had tried so hard to kill her, she found that she couldn’t bring herself to kill him in cold blood. Grinding her teeth together, she stood there another second, when suddenly Marl’s eyes flew open.
He yowled and lunged forward, and Vitanre reacted on pure instinct, bringing her scimitar up and jabbing at him. The blade buried itself into Marl’s chest, and the creature’s own momentum made it a killing blow. Again, she smelled burnt flesh as he slumped over her blade with a sigh. With great effort, he lifted his face to look at her.

“Well...done...” he whispered, that odd light fading from his eyes. His head fell forward again, and before Vitanre’s eyes, his body faded away in a puff of cloudy mist. A few feathers floated to the ground, and that was all that remained.

Slowly, she reached out a hand and grasped the feathers, stroking them with a fingertip. “He wasn’t such a bad creature after all...just doing was he was created to do,” she said quietly. Without knowing why she did so, she placed three feathers into a pocket, and then turned to regard Link.

He was currently using his sword tip to dig around his legs, trying to loosen the soil. Vitanre smiled, then began to laugh. Link gave her a look that said ‘I’d like to see what YOU would do were you me’ and kept chiseling away at the dirt around him.

Still chuckling, she kneeled behind him. “I’ll help from back here,” she said, and Link felt the subtle vibrations of her beginning to scratch at the dirt around the backs of his thighs.

Many minutes passed, and they had only cleared away enough earth for Link to be able to somewhat wiggle his legs.

“If I had known beforehand what was coming, I would have tried to point my toes,” he grumbled.

“My arms grow weary...I need to rest,” Vitanre said suddenly, and Link craned his neck around and looked at her.

Sometime while trapped in the vines, she had lost the sleeve Marl had ripped, and her bare arm had numerous purple bruises and bleeding gashes. Her other arm, having been more protected because of her sleeve, wasn’t quite so cut up, but now that sleeve hung on by only a few threads. He watched as she ripped it off completely, and began to mop blood off her arms.

“How bad are those?” Link asked, nodding at her arms.

“I’ll last until we return outside...I’ve bandages and ointments Meriweather pressed upon me before she allowed me to leave,” she said, her eyes daring Link to say something more.

He held his tongue, not wanting to insult her by accidently implying that she was worse off than she thought, and instead continued to dig himself free, Vitanre joining his efforts again once she had rested a few moments.
It took no less than an hour and half, but finally, Link was free.

He was now sitting on the ground next to Vitanre, pulling off his boots to empty them of dirt and rock. Vitanre dabbed one last time at her arms, then threw the bloodied scrap of cloth into the hole Link had left behind, then stood.

“...it’s all clear from here,” she said, nodding at the door. Link put his boots back on and stood as well, hefting his shield.

“Then let us continue,” he replied, walking forward. Vitanre fell into step beside him, and then they both stood before the final door.

Link pushed it open and both stepped inside. They were in a very small, triangular shaped room. A single ray of light came from the ceiling, and fell upon the only object in the room: a stone pedastal set upon a stone block, with a bowl of shining silver placed on the top of the pedastal.

Vitanre approached the pedastal cautiously, circling around it. It was just a plain stone pedastal...no arnaments or carvings of any sort. Only the silver bowl on top, and the block of the same identical stone as the pedastal.

She stepped up the pedastal, peering at the bowl.

“It’s...filled with...water?” she said, leaning in closer. Indeed, the bowl was filled with a clear liquid, water being her guess (although at this point, it could very well be anything.)

“No sign of the medallion?” Link asked, puzzled. Had they missed something? Was the bowl and pedastal just a diversion from the actual hiding place of the medallion?

“No...well...wait,” Vitanre said suddenly, feeling prompted from within to try something. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a single feather. In the ray of light, she could see that the green was shot through with random whorls of iridescent color, that shimmered as she turned it in the light. Holding the feather with two fingers, regarding it for an instant, she then let it drop into the bowl.

It hit the surface of the ‘water’ silently, and sank...and then began to glow a bright blue. Stepping back and shielding her eyes as the glow intensified, Vitanre thought she heard Marl’s last words again, echoing in the chamber.

‘Well done...’

The blue glow drew together into a quivering ball of light, that floated out over the top of the pedastal, then lowered itself to the floor. Shifting, the ball changed shapes...drawing itself into a familiar form.
“Marl!”
The glowing birdman nodded. “You did well to come so far,” he said, nodding again.

The form of Marl then melted away, to be taken by that of an old man...the same old man that had greeted them as a spectre when they had entered the place “I commend you on defeating my pet. Be you good or evil, I cannot tell, and I am past caring now. Your reward is what you seek.”
The image collasped in on itself, and drew together into a pinpoint of light. Both Link and Vitanre watched, spellbound, as the pinpoint suddenly erupted in a shower of gently glowing spores that rained down around them.

The bowl on the pedastal shook, as though it were sitting in an earthquake, and then something shot out of it and hovered above, dripping liquid back into the bowl with quiet ‘plips.’

Dark with wetness, the medallion hung a mere foot away from Vitanre.

She reached out and grabbed it. It was nothing special to behold. A plain disk of wood, with seven glass beads set into it’s face, in a circle, having a leather strip threaded through a small hole in the top. This, and it was just big enough to cover Vitanre’s palm.

Unwinding the leather, Vitanre tied the medallion about her neck and looked at where it lay on her
chest.

“We have it...we have the medallion.”

Vitanre and Link walked back outside, blinking as the bright sunlight assaulted eyes used to darkness.

Wasting no time, Vitanre hurried to Haka and quickly saw to her cuts and scrapes, then mounted the horse and wheeled him around just as Link was pulling himself onto Epona’s back.

Without a single word to Link, Vitanre kicked Haka forward, racing ahead to disappear into the trees. Link, seeing that he was about to be left behind, urged Epona after the stallion and it’s rider, letting the horse choose her own path and trusting her to choose a safe one.

After a few minutes of riding, with fleeting glances of Vitanre just ahead of him, Link judged that she was heading for Merilarmes at an angle; her current route would more than likely lead her to the very spot where the mysterious horsemen had knocked her senseless. He’d see if his guess was right in another day...even at a hard gallop, it would take them at least that long to return to the village.

‘That is, if nothing waylays us,’ Link thought ruefully, images of syrins briefly flashing through his mind.

Soon enough, it was dark. Link didn’t realize just how far ahead of him Vitanre had been, until he caught up to her later that evening. She had stopped in an ideal spot; it was a small clearing, with a pond at it’s center, ringed on all sides by tall trees. It appeared like she’d been there for a while already...Haka was already unladen and was grazing near the pondside. Vitanre herself was sitting silently beside a small fire.

Link allowed Epona to move to the pondside and stood there, listening to the horse drink noisily. After a moment, Link moved to sit beside the fire, next to Vitanre. She remained silent, but nodded at him as he sat.

For several minutes, the only sound was the crackle and pop of the fire and the teasing whisper of a gentle breeze through the trees. Finally, Vitanre shifted and turned towards Link.

“You...will not think badly of me...if I exact punishment from those that took Darian?”

Link shook his head slowly. “...I’ve always believed that slaughter and death can not be the only possible answer to evey problem, yet time and again I am forced to kill my foes. I’ve come to understand that...sometimes no matter how hard I try, death is the only way to stop evil. In some ways, evil deserves it because of the wrong it commits.” Link paused, staring at the fire. “No...I would not think badly of you if you kill those who kidnapped your brother...because then, I would have to think less of myself, because of all those I myself have killed in the past.”

Vitanre nodded, turning her gaze to a small twig she held in her hands. “I fear...that I shall have no choice but to kill.” She sighed, and snapped the twig in half, then threw it into the fire. “You know...until now, I’ve never actually seen true combat.”

Link looked up at her in surprise. “Truly? I had thought you mentioned you took care of bandits in the woods around your home?”

“Ha, those fools? They were ones who ran at the first sight of a drawn blade...” she snorted bitterly. “Marl...was the first I’ve ever injured, let alone killed.”

“You’ll find that ending the life of a living being does not get easier the more you do it, but eventually you learn to not let it get to you. Destroying those creatures that would cause harm for the sake of causing it, that is no true problem...but it’s different with inteligent creatures...” Link said, his brow furrowing as he picked up a twig himself and studied it. “I guess you would call it a curse...the numbing that slowly develops, to keep you from crumbling beneath your emotions when faced with death and battle.”

“I suppose so...” Vitanre replied quietly.

Link flicked the twig into the fire, giving her a small smile. “With luck, perhaps you will not be forced to-what is that?” Link was suddenly on his feet, staring off into the dark woods. A low rumbling, roaring sound was coming from somewhere to their left...from the direction of the sea.

“I...it sounds strangely familiar...” Vitanre said, squinting off in that direction. Between the brief break in the trees, there was a large splotch of sky where no stars showed...that seemed to stretch across the horizon. Realization dawned, and Vitanre’s eyes grew wide.

“Oh gods... RUN!” she turned and ran for the horses as the roaring escalated into a deafening thunder. Link was on Vitanre’s heels, the horses just infront of them, when the source of the noise became apparent.

A wall of water crashed between the trees, mowing down or moving around everything in it’s path and bearing down on the two fleeing hylians faster than either could ever hope to run. Their fire was swept away, plunging the woods into darkness as the sudden flood swept over and buried Vitanre and Link.

Link felt himself dragged under the surface and he tumbled head over heels in the relentless flow. He slammed up against something, a tree trunk most likely, and half his breath was knocked from him as his vision suddenly exploded with stars. The force of the water held him there, pinned. His lungs began to burn, and somehow he summoned the strength to shove himself off (it WAS a tree trunk after all, he felt the bark beneath his fingers) and was swept away again, bumping along what he now knew was the ground.

Timing his rough tumbling, he shoved off and felt his face break the surface. Gulping in air quickly, he was dragged back under water within a matter of seconds. He painfully bounced off what had to be another trunk, and then another, and then he suddenly felt something snag his shoulder and haul him up. Link’s face broke surface again and he choked on a mouthful of water as he was hoisted slightly higher, the water swirling around him and threatening to pull him back under once more.

Gasping, he looked up to see Vitanre clinging to a tree branch with her legs, both hands gripping the shoulders of his tunic. Her face was twisted in a grimance, arms beginning to shake from holding Link up and fighting the flow of the water.

“Hurry...swing to the branch...” she bit out. Link pulled himself up her, she obliging by forming a stepping place with her hands, and then Link hauled himself up onto the branch. Vitanre took a few moments, hanging there, her head mere inches above the raging waters, before she too swung herself up and seated herself on the branch beside Link.

The two sat and listened and watched, the water rushing by beneath their feet, and thought about what would have happened had Vitanre not pulled first herself and then Link from the flood.

“Where could this have come from?” Link asked then, grimly wringing out his hat.

Vitanre wiped at her face, water dripping off, hair and clothing plastered flat to her body. “The sea, obviously...but what could have possibly caused something like this...I...I just don’t know...” she said, meeting Link’s gaze before staring back down at the water.

They sat there perhaps an hour, and still the water did not cease it’s furied rampage through the forest. Vitanre shivered slightly; being soaked completely through, both hylians were beginning to feel a chill in the air. Link was leaning against the trunk, straddling the branch they sat upon. He was beginning to feel wearied, as well as chilled, and he found himself wanting to nod off. Vitanre too was exhausted, and both wondered how they would possibly stay secure in the tree if the flood below should get any worse.

Finally, Vitanre pulled her whip out of her belt. “Unhook your belt,” she said simply, tying a secure loop in one end of the whip. Wordlessly, Link did as she bade him to, unhooking his belt and then watching as Vitanre threaded the loop over the belt and then threw the free end of the whip around the tree. It took her two tries, but she caught the end, and then slid the handle of the whip into the loop and pulled it tight.

Link nodded as he rebuckled his belt, and Vitanre threaded her own belt through his and secured it; even if the water should get higher and catch them unawares, (for even now it was apparent that they both needed to rest,) Link was tied to the tree, and Vitanre to Link. They would remain fast to the tree as they slept, and all Link had to do was unbuckle his belt to release them both.

Link, having to stay with his back up against the trunk because of their safety tether, sucked in a breath as Vitanre leaned back against him gently, pressing cold wet clothing against his skin.

“Not the best place to spend the night,” she said wryly. “I only hope the horses are okay...Haka should be fine, he was brought to Merilarmes by boat...”

Link didn’t reply...he wasn’t exactly sure how Epona would have handled herself in such a flood.

Before long, both hylians fell asleep, their shared body heat helping to keep off the worst of the chill from the cool night breeze. At one point during the night, Link awoke. He had shifted ever so slightly, and the Master Sword’s sheath was digging into his back. Beneath him, he noted that the water seemed sluggish, not as rushing as it had been earlier...and then his sleep-and-cold-fogged brain woke up a little bit more.

Vitanre had shifted during the night as well; she was laying fully against him, her back flat against his chest. Her head was resting on one of his shoulders, her forehead just touching his neck. What part of her hair that was dry blew about gently in the slight breeze, tickling the bottom of his chin and just below his ear.

He suddenly began to breath shallower, not wanting to disturb her...then feeling slightly foolish, as he had been breathing normally up until the point when he’d awakened, and she hadn’t been bothered by it then. Then, embarrassedly, he realized his hands rested around her waist, and her hands ontop of his. Carefully sliding them out from under hers, Link rested them on his thighs (after ever-so-carefully wriggling a hand up behind him to shift the Master Sword out of his spinal cord.)

He turned his head from Vitanre’s, settling his chin awkwardly on his opposite shoulder, and shut his eyes. Dawn was not too far off, and he’d need the few more hour’s sleep. He drifted back off, and unconsciously, his head turned until his chin rested ontop of Vitanre’s head, and both slept on peacefully.

Meanwhile...

The man laughed as the boy squirmed, and delivered a rough kick to the captive.

“Yer’s jus’ a pup...donno why the master’d want sumthing a’ scrawny a’ ye,” the man drawled.

Darian stared up defiantly, blinking his own sweat from his eyes, sounding a lot more braver than he felt. “My sister is going to find and kill you all,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

His tormentor laughed outright. “What? Ye’s hear tha’ un, boys?” he called back to the others, twelve in all (the rest were on patrol duty) sitting around a small table, playing dice. They all paused and turned to regard their fellow and Darian. “This un sez his bi’ sister es gonna kell us all!”

Raucous laughter came in reply, one or two men even throwing their dice at the glaring boy. Darian stared steely up at them all, growing bolder each passing second.

“She will! And I’ll be there to watch you all beg her for mercy!”

The first man stopped laughing and grabbed Darian’s chin roughly, forcing his neck back so that Darian was staring right up into the man’s face.

“Now ye listen gud, boy,” he growled, squeezing hard. “I’s saw Kurde here take ‘er down meself. Ye’s ain’t got a sister no mores,” he said, grinning nastily. The one called Kurde chuckled and stroked the club stuck in his belt, playing with the dice in his hand.

“You lie,” Darian said evenly, hoping that no one had noticed the sudden quaver to his voice.

The man pulled a slightly rusty knife, a skinning knife from the looks of it, and ran it down the left side of Darian’s face, outlining the boy’s jawline. “I’s dun lie, boy,” he hissed. “Now, tomarrow, we’s wait fer the water to go down, an’ then we’s taking ye to the master. Ye ‘sister’ can’t help ye now either way, so go abot pretendin’ she’s aliving, it’ll keep yer little mind busy-like.” He slid the knife away somewhere inside his clothing and then walked over to join his men at dice throwing.

Darian sat alone in his dark corner, shivering with renewed fear. He didn’t know why the men took him, he didn’t know where he was going...and now he didn’t know if someone was coming after him or not. Grinding his teeth together and morosely rubbing with bound hands where the man had kicked him, Darian shut his eyes and tried to blot out the entire situation.

In a small ship, rocking on the waves, a man clothed in flowing black robes stood on the prow. Arms raised over his head, head bowed, he paid no attention to the few sailors tending to the ship behind him. The air crackled around him, seething with dark energy as he put all his power behind it, directing his spells and energies down into the depths of the water. He did not even notice when another man, garbed identically to himself, approached and stood just behind him.

Down he reached, until his probing senses discerned that he was now resting on the bottom of the sea. His magic gave him brief flashes of aquatic life as he began to sweep from side to side, scouring the sea floor, knowing that he just had to find it...it always took him a few moments to find it.

And at last, there it was.

His mind filled with the presence of a powerful being, and he felt it stirring at his mind’s touch.

‘You know why you were summoned back.’ A mind cut into his inner thoughts, and the man had to concentrate to keep his spell from faltering.

“Of course, master,” he answered aloud...more for the benefit of the man standing behind him than for the being. He’d still be heard whether he answered orally or mentally.

‘They have obtained it. They will not get to the spirits before I, is that understandable?’

“Yes master.”

‘I trust you will find my spirits and bring them to me, before they can gather them.’

“We already have the host of Jarom in our grasp, and have located the host of Kuro. It is only a matter of time-“

‘NO! ’

The man cringed as the booming voice echoed through his mind painfully.

‘Time is short. We are being challenged by two mere mortals that think they can defeat me merely by collecting the spirits. We must hurry, for I relish the chance to prove them...wrong.’

Feeling the sudden surge of bloodlust from the being, the man both cringed and shuddered with delight.

“Of course master, your orders shall be completed.”

‘Of course,’ the being purred. ‘Now...go do my bidding...or suffer the consequences.’

With that, the power radiating from below the water fell idle, and the man let his spell end.

“Albryn?” The second man asked, as the first lowered his arms and turned.
“Cast your spells, summon triple the number of horsemen. They have found the medallion and challenge us,” Albryn replied, shoving past his fellow.

“I know...I knew the exact moment I felt Tsuko’s magical wards fail,” the second man replied, narrowing his eyes. “You should have taken my advice and either disposed of the medallion or those two troublemakers first, then went after the spirit hosts.”

Albryn rounded on his fellow, suddenly seeming much taller than what he was. “Kalin, don’t tell me what I should and should not do! What is done is done and cannot be changed! Now, do as I told you or the master will devour us himself! ” and with that, Albryn stormed into his cabin to contemplate their next move.

The sailors tried very hard not to be caught looking at Kalin, tried to look as busy as possible as the other came stomping through in Albryn’s wake.

“Take us back to shore! Our business here is finished for the time being! ” Kalin snapped, going down into the cargo hold area of the ship to prepare his magic.

=========


Gentle sunrays shined down on the land. The water, overnight, had mostly either flowed into rivers and streams or sank into the ground.

Beneath the tree Link and Vitanre had shelted in, the water was perhaps four or five inches deep still, flowing between the trees sluggishly. All was quiet, in the aftermath of the tsunami.

Link’s eyes came open slowly. The first thing he noted was Vitanre no longer lay against him. He was still secure to the tree, but Vitanre was not strapped to him. Sitting up, he spied Vitanre just infront of him, perched like a bird further out on the branch.

She sat in perfect balance, crouched on the tree branch, facing the rising sun. Her face was blank, eyes unblinking, just sitting still.

Carefully, Link reached out to her. “Vitanre...?”

Slowly, she blinked, eyes still on the sun, that was just visable over the treetops.

“Land’s hero, lost child,” she said in a flat tone suddenly. “Eight to find, to set free. Locate them before Sheoas does, or the world will end.”

She fell silent, and then blinked and looked about, as though she didn’t know where she was...and then lost her balance as she was released from her trance and fell from the branch with a yelp. She flipped over and landed on her feet, water spraying up around her.
Wet again and now confused, she looked up at Link in the tree. “What just happened? Why was I out so far on the branch?”

Link shimmied down the tree, sloshing through the muck to her side. “You...well...” he smiled faintly, spreading his hands wide. “You were staring at the sunrise, and told me something...you weren’t acting yourself.”

“What...did I say?”

“You don’t remember?” Link asked, brows furrowing.

She shook her head.

“Well...you mentioned the two of us, and that we must find the eight spirits...before someone else does...Sheoas.” Link said.

Vitanre’s eyes suddenly darkened. “Sheoas.”

“You know of him?” Link asked, looking at her closely.

“Yes...” Vitanre said quietly. “The story of Sheoas is carved into the back wall of the sea shrine...”

She rubbed at her arms, eyes narrowing. “Sheoas is a great demon, a powerful beast that was summoned from the depths of the darkness by a sorceror hoping to harness his power. Sheoas proved to be too strong for his summoner to control, and soon killed him and devoured his soul and magic, making the demon even stronger.”

“Sheoas was strong, but he had been summoned on an island far out in the middle of the seas, and so he had no way of reaching the mainland because he had never seen water before and had no way to navigate it safely,” she said, snorting suddenly. “He, in his new existance in our world, was childlike and possibly even frightened...”

“He spent five years on his island, the only sentient inhabitant, always trying to catch the attention of passing ships. You see, Sheoas had much magical power, but he was new to this world and had not yet mastered the finer points of using it. But, by the end of his fifth year of solitude, Sheoas discovered the sorceror’s books on magics...and with them, Sheoas mastered his own powers and was now a very dire threat indeed to Hyrule.”

“At the first attempt of Sheoas trying to make it to the mainland, Jarom called up violent storms upon the waters, keeping the demon on his island. Time and again, the demon was thwarted...until one day, the earth simply opened up and swallowed him, trapping him in an underground vault far beneath the sea’s surface.”

Link sat there, digesting what he’d just heard.

“But...I thought Xax guarded the darkness...and how could the earth have simply ‘opened up’?” he asked finally.

“That is all that was written on the wall...my only guesses are that Sheoas was pulled from Xax’s grasp, and that Goro aided Jarom and opened the chasm...” Vitanre answered, spreading her hands out wide. “I know as much about the spirits-besides Jarom, that is- as you do.”

“...why would Sheoas seek the spirits? I thought the medallion was the only way to safely remove them from their hosts?”
“He wouldn’t need to...” she said bitterly. “Sheoas devoured his summoner...ate him, and gained all his power and abilities.”

Realization came to Link. “He needs only to find the hosts and eat them...to gain the powers of the spirits...”

Vitanre nodded. “And I swear by Jarom he won’t do that...” Suddenly, she let out a piercing whistle. “HAKA! ”

Nothing happened. She repeated her whistle and call. From far off in the forest, a faint nickering could be heard.

“And there are our horses,” she said, sprinting off that way, throwing water up in a spray behind her. Link followed right on her heels, pausing only to pick up their gear on the way (luckily for them, it had not been washed far; it’d become entangled around a tree stump and was water logged, but all there.)

Then, they found their horses. Both Epona and Haka were standing between two trees, looking unharmed, if acting a bit tired. Both were still wet, and had the situation not been so pressing, they would have allowed the horses to stand in the sun and dry themselves a bit...but there was no time for that.

Link climbed onto Epona, noting that his saddle was gone...he’d need to get a new one. He threw the saddle bags over his shoulder and carefully turned Epona around, to see Vitanre kneeling beside Haka and examining the horse’s right front leg.

“Haka’s been injured...” she said, as the horse carefully pulled its leg from her and set it uneasily upon the ground, nickering. “I think it’s just a sprain...but I can’t ride him like this.”

“Then come,” Link nudged Epona over to her and held out a hand. She took it and was pulled onto Epona, behind Link.

“Back to the village first,” she said in his ear as they galloped off. “We have a long journey ahead...and I must tell the elder that it is Sheoas...”

Link nodded and urged Epona a bit faster, setting her on a course that would lead them right into the middle of Merilarmes.