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Chapter Text

Prologue: Link's Awakening

Link awoke with great reluctance from exciting dreams about combat against hulking monsters, eased into wakefulness by a childish girl's voice. Immediately visible was a wooden railing, and beyond it, through the gap in the railing, the rich blue of the sea. Now where was he, and how had he gotten here, and when had he fallen asleep? Had the monster caught him a blow while he was listening to Saria? Everything was muddled, and forming coherent thoughts was hard….

"Big Brother!" cried the girl again. Link sat up, and turned towards the owner of the voice. Strange. He didn't remember Saria looking like that. It was a little girl, with two blonde pigtails, in her preteens, and wearing a blue dress with flowers on it. Aryll….

"Wake up, Big Brother! Don't you remember what day it is today?"

Well, actually, no. At this point, he had no idea. Sometime in the spring, he thought, or maybe summer. It was in how he could almost feel the world humming with growth.

"Poor Big Brother," Aryll said (how had he confused her with a figment from a dream? Sure, his dreams were vivid, but confusing reality and dreams was a Bad Sign. It was probably just the abrupt awakening). "You're still half-asleep, aren't you? Big Brother, it's your birthday!"

What! How had he forgotten that? Immediately, he shot to his feet, suddenly very much awake. He ignored Aryll's giggling at his response, brushing dirt off his clothes and trying to see the sun, high overhead by now, and blocked by the sloped wooden roof of the lookout tower.

Now, he remembered climbing up here, as he sometimes did on clear nights when the stars were unobscured from clouds, and restlessness would not let him sleep. It had been precisely this fact—that today was his birthday—that had made sleep such an elusive commodity for him. Today, Outset Island's eyes would be on the past, and on him. Today, he became an adult—at seventeen years of age, he was now of the same age as the legendary Hero of Time when he had first appeared.

To celebrate, there would be a small celebratory dinner (so only because of how few inhabitants lived on Outset), and the tale of the legendary hero would be told, and much speculation would be made on whether or not any of the story were true, and what had become of the legendary kingdom. It mattered not that he had memorised the entirety of the story—he drank it in, nevertheless. Old man Sturgeon had a head for details, and a strong narrative voice.

He captured the poignancy and the despair of those long ago people, the rush of hope at the Hero's arrival, and the crushing loss of the kingdom itself. Link hoped that being an adult did not make him too old for listening—certainly, he thought he'd caught Mesa lurking nearby during the annual invocation to the Hero, listening to every word of the Hero's story, and Link was too young to even remember when Mesa had become an adult.

"Grandma wanted to speak to you about something," Aryll said, noticing his return to full wakefulness, and fearing lest he become distracted by his thoughts—he seemed to be tending in that direction! Link, for his part, was reminded of his least favourite part of the celebration of coming of age: the requirement that the new adult wear the clothes of the Hero of Time for an entire day. It was bad enough that they were old-fashioned and outmoded—but, from what he could tell from reason and description, they were hot as summer sun, too. The lost kingdom had not been located in a hot and humid island, clearly—the Hero's clothes included a long-sleeved green undershirt, and brown trousers, and then another layer on top of that.

Well, Grandma had told him to come, but maybe it wouldn't hurt—surely she would understand?—if he enjoyed his last few moments of free, non-sweltering, movement. Perhaps if he spoke to Sturgeon (she was always happy to see him learning), she would be inclined to be a bit lenient? Then, he came back to the startling discovery that he was now an adult, and with this memory, his decision of concern became a sign of deference to his elders, and love of family.

And I shan't keep her waiting for very long, he reminded himself, and, nodding acknowledgement of Aryll's words, he waved a brief goodbye to his sister, and climbed down the tall ladder back to the pier. He did like the high vantage that the lookout post provided, where he could see as far as it was possible to see, out over the endless expanse of the restless ocean. He did not think, someday, I shall see every inch of those seas. Instead, the knowledge of the sea's vastness brought everything into perspective, reminding him that the world was vast, and his troubles were comparatively small.

He ran back to the mainland via the pier, casting a curious glance at the trail up to the summit, and up to the bridge that connected the two island's halves, but he knew that the overgrowth made the path impassable. Sturgeon had told him that the important thing on the other summit (the Western Island, as they sometimes called it) was the long since blocked up Fairy Fountain, where the Hero of Time had once come to be cured of his exhaustion. But Sturgeon maintained that the fountain had closed long ago—healing fairies had not been seen since Sturgeon's youth. It was a pity, as Link was curious as to what a healing fairy—or any fairy at all, really—looked like.

He cast a backward glance at the steep incline, turned to wave to Mesa as he passed by the man's overgrown front lawn, and absent-mindedly stared up at the upper bridge over the channel, as he crossed to the Western Island via the lower bridge. Rose's elder son, Joel, was staring out in the same direction on one of the protruding black rocks that stuck up out of the channel.

He gave a low, murmured warning about his younger brother, Zill, who was intent on following Link around on his birthday, to get a better idea of what the experience would be like. Zill was only six years old, and Joel was barely any older, and they both rather idol-worshipped Link. If he were to have a moment's peace, he would do well to heed Joel's warning. He acknowledged said warning with a grateful smile, and continued across the bridge, where he saw Abe in Sturgeon and Orca's front yard, staring intently at a wild black pig.

Hello? Can you hear me, Link? he heard, although it was not hearing, per se—neither pig nor Abe so much as twitched. Nevertheless, Link was certain that he heard Sturgeon's voice. He looked up at the upper landing of the brothers' two-storey house, and there was Sturgeon, waving a knobby staff and looking quite excited.

Yes, that's it! Look at me, and focus on talking from a distance. It's called telepathy. You can hear me, right?

Link focused, giving the task his attention. He liked to think he was a quick learner. Hello?

Yes, yes, I think you've got it! Sturgeon's beard bobbing back and forth with his movements, and tangling in that crooked staff were almost comical to see, but Link respected the old man, and was not inclined to laugh at his gleeful dance. He and Orca had both done well by Link and Aryll after their parents had died in a storm at sea while fishing. Now, when Sturgeon beckoned Link over, Link did not hesitate to come.

"What we were just doing—it seems you have a knack for it, eh?" Sturgeon said conspiratorially. "I thought you might. My books tell me that it was a trait certain of those with long ears—like yours and your sister's—have as a natural gift—not that you don't need to practice! Very useful for when you need to sneak about with someone unnoticed, I wager—not that I'd know anything about that."

The old man sounded strangely uncomfortable at the end of his speech, but before Link could think too hard about it, he continued. "Well done, I say. And happy birthday to you, Link. Be a good boy—er, man—and don't keep your kind grandmother waiting. I'll still be here to practice with when you get back."

I'm sure she'd understand if I spent only a little more time to myself, surely?

It was an effort communicating with mind alone.

"Don't make your grandmother worry about you," said Sturgeon, in an oddly ominous voice. Whatever threat he might have continued against Link, however, was dislodged from his mind by the sound of a thud of something against wood, and the shaking of his house. Orca, Link thought, practicing combat. Sturgeon shook his staff as if the man were in front of him, and began to yell at his younger brother. Link took the opportunity to pull open the door to Orca's quarters of the house, and to enter.

Orca greeted him with a solemn look, calm as if Sturgeon's voice—still audible if muffled by the wood of the structure—were not at all audible even to the smaller, more rounded ears possessed by Orca. "Ah, Link, happy birthday to you. I see you have not yet donned the clothes of the Hero.

"Have you come to train with the sword? I admit I find it reassuring that one, at least, among us still thinks it valuable to know how to defend himself and others, and it is especially important in view of the lesson meant to be exemplified by the celebrations we observe on our birthdays. But, nowadays, it seems that we have grown complacent, and forgotten that the Hero of Time did not fully defeat the evil. On this day, a man ought to be training to protect himself and others, but in these peaceful times, they think that I am a foolish old man, prone to paranoia and seeing threat where there is none. But it is important! Especially on this day, have you come for instructions on the wielding of a sword?"

"Please teach me," Link said, giving a respectful bow to signify a beginning of a lesson. The others might think that Orca was just a silly, deluded old man, but he saw a wisdom in Orca's eyes equal to that of Sturgeon. It was a different sort of wisdom, but wisdom nonetheless.

Fifteen minutes worth of warm-up exercises and basic instructions later, Orca nodded in approval, and returned his spear to a vertical position, smiling and nodding. Link had rarely seen him quite so well-pleased.

"I thought you might come to see me, today, even before the true celebration. And I was right. I have a gift for you—the sword I once used in my youth. It calls out for you, recognising some sort of nobility in your spirit. Complete the attire of the Hero with one of his most important tools—the sword. I trust you to continue to work on your swordplay, and not to abuse this sword. You can return at any time, whether to continue training, or to show me what you have learnt, or merely to talk, you are always welcome here."

He held out a bandolier of blue, and sheathed in it, a short sword with a plain brown hilt. Link bowed again, in respect.

"Thank you. I would not dream of misusing this sword," he said.

"There is no need for thanks," Orca replied. "You have earned this blade through your dedication to the art. Happy birthday, Link Sylvanus."

Outside, Link felt conspicuous, holding onto the sword by the bandolier, but he didn't want to put it on—first, that would make him feel more conspicuous, and second, he would shortly need to change his clothes anyway.

He continued to think as he tiptoed past Zill's point of lookout, glancing with bated breath up the slope to Rose and Abe's house, next to which slope Zill stood. He very nearly bumped into Sue-Belle, Sturgeon's granddaughter, doing this. She had filled a jar with water from the covered well near the path, and was carrying it to her grandfather, but she stopped to smile and to say hello. She had turned seventeen a couple of years ago, but girls did not go through the same celebration as boys did when they came of age. Link was briefly inclined to envy her.

Still, given a choice between Zill and the clothes of the Hero, the clothes seemed the lesser torment. Maybe they weren't as bad as they looked, after all. Grandma was practically a professional seamstress, of the sort he'd heard lived on faraway Windfall Island.

Opening the door to his own home, now, he gently set the sword, bandolier and all, on the floor in the corner. From the entrance, he could clearly see the second storey. Grandma stood there, back turned to him, facing the plain wooden shield hanging on the wall. It was, as she had told him several times, a tradition to hang the family shield on the wall. In bygone days, it had been a sign of peace and prosperity, which were now the norm.

He climbed the ladder to the second storey, and Grandma immediately thrust the stack of clothes into his arms. Perhaps it was his imagination, but they sure felt heavy. He was still staring at them in despair when Grandma spoke:

"Ah, how swiftly the time flies. Can it already be your seventeenth birthday, Link? It seems only yesterday you were just a little baby—and now look; you're an adult! I'm sure you'll look very mature in the clothes Grandma made for you. I know they can be a bit uncomfortable—you should have heard your father protest!—but it's only for one day, sweetie.

"Remember what they symbolise. This is an important tradition, dating back to the very beginning of Outset's settlement. Just like hanging the family shield on the wall. And it's especially important for us to observe these customs, for the family shield belonged to the Legendary Hero himself! That's right," Grandma said proudly, noticing his astonished look. "Our family descends from the Hero of Time himself! So wear those clothes with pride!"

Speaking thus, she descended back to the lower storey to resume cooking. He had the strange sense that she could tell when he was coming, sometimes. Surely, she hadn't waited on this upper storey for however long it might have taken for Aryll to find him, wake him, and get him to finally come home.

Link went over behind the bed curtains, to his bed, for some place to sit and try to understand the foreign garments. Soft brown boots were carefully set upright on the floor nearby, the brown belt with its curious spiral design laid carefully on top. The dark green sleeveless tunic was set next to him, leaving behind the grass green long-sleeved undershirt and brown trousers. The pointed hat of the same colour as the tunic required some thought, and perhaps he would even need help putting it on. He set it atop the tunic, and then began to switch out clothes.

The bright orange pants he was accustomed to were replaced by the brown trousers, leaving him in his bright, sky blue shirt. The trousers were reassuringly loose-fitting and cool, and he felt a bit bolder to the idea of the rest of the outfit. The long-sleeved shirt was unfamiliar in its softness and flexibility, but not as warm as he'd expected. And somehow, the weight of the green tunic was reassuring. When he had pulled on his boots and buckled the belt, he folded his old clothes—his everyday clothes! It wasn't as if he were keeping the ceremonial outfit!—and picked up the hat.

Obviously, the end with the brim fit over his head, somehow. He tested the natural give of the fabric, and found it severely lacking. He suspected that the only way to possibly attach the hat was with a glimmer of the almost forgotten gift of magic. He considered asking Grandma for help.

At length, he managed to stretch it over the top of his head, and even to work at the brim, pulling it down over his hair to help keep it in place. It did not feel as if it would stay, but it waited until he had found Grandma before coming undone. He couldn't tell quite what she had done, but he was almost certain that it was, indeed, magic.

He came down from the second storey, and again was fussed over by Grandma, but now he was actually thinking about the fact that, up until this point, no one had told him or Aryll of the non-small detail that his ancestor had been the Hero of Time. He might have confronted her about it, but not only was he a rather non-confrontational sort of person, but there was also the fact that it was still the day of his coming-of-age, which had a religious sort of quality to it. It would not do to corrupt the proceedings of the festivities by introducing unwarranted strife. He could always ask her tomorrow, right? That day had no religious significance.

Instead, after she had fixed the hat on his head, he let her send him off to find Aryll and bring her back to the house to help Grandma. Link already knew where he had last seen her, and, as it was her favourite place on the whole of the island, it was doubtful that she had moved from the lookout tower.

Heading back towards the wooden bridge, he could clearly see the seagulls flocking around the height of the lookout tower—the clearest visible sign of Aryll's presence, with the sun high overhead, and her dress the same colour of the sea.

"Are those the clothes of the legendary hero?" she asked without preamble when his head at last graced the top of the ladder, and he had come to stand with her by the railing. "They look like they'd be pretty hot to wear…."

Link shrugged—the unfamiliar outfit took some getting used to, and the slap of the sword on his thigh felt like it would surely bruise it, but at least the outfit wasn't as warm as it appeared—and the extra layer helped to provide some cushioning. All told, it could have been much worse.

When he told Aryll this, she looked at him incredulously, but smiled. "Well, anyway. I still haven't given you a birthday present. Close your eyes and hold out your hands!"

Link raised an eyebrow, but did what he was told. Technically, he knew, he was supposed to wait until the official ceremony—which was why no one had given him anything yet except for Orca. It wasn't an official or religious rule—only a custom, and, while Orca was rather dismissive of anything that didn't show its utility, and saw no point in waiting to give a gift that was more useful given earlier, most people would observe the habit, even if it only didn't occur to them to give him something earlier.

A heavy weight suddenly weighed down his hands, and he resisted the urge to open his eyes to see what Aryll had put there before she told him to open them, knowing she would scold him if he didn't listen. It appeared to be some sort of tapering object, thick on one end, and thin on the other, with a knob on the side….

Despite himself, his eyes flew open, and he stared at the brown telescope in his hands. An out-of-the-way settlement like Outset didn't have very many imports, and this particular one was an heirloom from their Grandfather, to whom the sailor who was Ranath's father had given it, who had put in at Outset while touring the Great Sea, and had left again before realising that the woman who had taken him in and provided food and shelter was pregnant.

She had never seen him again—it was quite a sad story, to Link's mind—but he had left her with the telescope (allegedly one of his most prized possessions), and a number of stories about Windfall Island, whence he hailed. Grandma was always rather wistful at this point, telling them that she had wanted to go to Windfall, as he had asked her to do, but, with the need to raise a child, had never felt the freedom to either leave the child behind, or bring him over treacherous waters to the distant island.

And here it was, the telescope of his grandfather, by far Aryll's most prized possession. For a moment, he was at a loss for words, remembering the sad story.

"But Aryll," he said at last. "This is your telescope! You can't give it to me."

Aryll sighed, shaking her head fondly. "I'm just giving you the use of it for one day, silly," she said. "So be careful with it! I want it back after this day is over…. Oh, look! The postman is here!"

Sure enough, standing before the communal island postbox was the rito postman, Quill. As Link watched, the birdlike man reached into his ivory canvas messenger bag, withdrew one or two letters, and carefully slotted them into the red box. Then, as if startled by something, he looked up into the sky, and, knees bent, he began to flap white-edged brown wings, hovering in place by constantly flapping his wings.

"The postman is acting a bit funny, don't you think?" Aryll mused, looking in the same direction as Link. "I wonder what… if you used the telescope—Oh, look! Up in the sky! If only I still had my telescope!"

Link took the hint, and set the eyepiece to his eye, pointing up at the sky above Quill. To include Aryll, he told her what he saw as the event unfolded—and event it was.

Unidentifiable as anything other than a shapeless mass at first, a huge black bird with golden tail feathers beat huge white tipped wings, soaring over the island. Immediately noticeable was a steel mask covering its head and beak. After that, the fact that it had apparently abducted a girl was impossible to miss, if you thought to check why its wingbeats seemed unusually stiff.

Link felt something, looking up at that huge bird—a sense of familiarity, although how this could be he was far from certain—he had never ever even heard of such a creature before. Nevertheless, he could have sworn he had experienced something like this before. Maybe in a dream!

A dark grey ball flew out from the direction of the sea, narrowly missing the bird, and Link unthinkingly turned the telescope in the direction of the cannonball's origin—a massive pirate ship, immediately recognisable as such with the square pirate flag of skull and crossbones on a black field proudly displayed. As he watched, another was fired from the cannon, and he followed its trajectory as it hit the bird cleanly on the side of its head, where the unnaturally strong grey mask protected it from the worst of damage. Unfortunately for the bird, in its surprise at being hit, it dropped the girl, who fell into the forest on the summit of the Western Island.

"Oh no!" Aryll exclaimed, as Link lowered the telescope. "That poor girl! Do you think she's hurt? You'd better go check on her, Link. Of course, you'd better have something to protect yourself with, in case there are more monsters on the summit. No one's been there for such a long time."

Link reassured her that he did, in fact, have a means of defence, and wholly agreed with her that it was the duty of hospitality of the islanders that he ensure that the girl was alright.

Having resolved to do this, he hastened back down the ladder, pausing at the bottom to wave to Aryll, and ran down the pier, not hesitating to set up the impassable Eastern Island slope. The sharp sword of Orca made short work of any barrier he couldn't merely push past, and he was careful to leave as much of the path undisturbed as possible, mindful as he was of the fact that there were still children on the island who might recklessly venture up the path seeking adventure, if they were not hindered.

Now, for the first time in his life, he saw the top of Outset Island. There was a high, unclimbable ledge to his left, a climbable ledge to his right, the ridge past the ledge to his left, and besides that, no railing or anything else to prevent him from falling a very great distance into the sea below, or being painfully dashed against the jutting pillars of rocks springing up between the two islands.

At the far side of the bridge was a dark archway leading into the forest on the western summit. This was where he needed to go. He took a minute to stare at the bridge, finding it in strangely good repair. He did not pause or hesitate any longer, immediately dashing across it, ignoring how it gave under his weight—his mind was firmly set on other matters.

As he approached the archway, the forest became visible beyond. It was, despite being open to the sky, through which the sun shone brightly, especially at this time of day, rather dark beyond the archway. Trees grew tall in the undisturbed woods, blocking out much of the sun. It made the going difficult. He could hardly tell where he was going.

He climbed a ledge, simply to get a better vantage, and found himself standing near a great tall rock, jutting into the sky. Before it stood a sign which, when read, was revealed to be indicating the location of the legendary fairy fountain supposedly once used by the Hero of Time. He wondered where it had gone—if it hadn't just been covered up.

From this ledge, he found another short ledge, and from here, he could see the whole forest. He took a minute to take out Aryll's telescope from where it had disappeared inside his trousers pocket. He hadn't even noticed its weight, really.

He immediately noticed the girl—conspicuous on account of her blonde hair and bright white pants (and to a lesser extent, her bright blue shirt). These were very noticeable colours in the middle of a forest. She was hanging from the branch of a tree by an equally conspicuous bright red sash.

Link climbed up the ridge towards the tree from which the girl was suspended, evidently unconscious, judging by her silence and her closed eyes. He hoped to rescue her before she could realise what an embarrassing position she had landed in.

Just then, the forest grew eerily still and silent, and tension filled the air. An unseen wind from above stirred the upper branches of the trees (Link feared for the stranger, again), and he looked up, in time to see two smaller birds of similar appearance to the one before. Each carried a misshapen, pig-faced monster. Each monster was outfitted alike in open brown vest and trousers, making them seem strangely human to Link's mind. But each carried cudgels, and he was not unaware of the dangers of blunt force. Reluctantly, he drew Orca's sword from the sheath at his side.

As the club of the first monster—he would later learn that they were called bokoblins—fell, he thrust upwards, under the arm wielding the club. As he watched, too stunned to do the smart thing, and redirect his attention to the remaining foe, the image of the monster folded in on itself, disappearing in a puff of smoke. A green rupee took its place. He ignored the money to focus on the second bokoblin, keeping the unconscious girl in the corner of his eye. Such an effort, to get to one girl! Who was she? How was she so important?

He ducked under a blow from the monster's club, barely grazing the monster with his answering blow. Mindful of the dangers of slipping and falling—why were there no twigs or leaves underfoot?— he withdrew, feeling behind him lest he be trapped by the ledge wall. His best guess led him to believe that the strange wood of the club would be too sturdy to cut through with his sword. But he had to admit feeling relieved when the other monster, defeated, had turned into smoke.

This monster, however, did not want to go quietly. He began to fear that the girl would awaken before he defeated his foe. A blow to the shoulder distracted the monster long enough for Link to deliver the mortal blow, but there was no time for watching the transformation this time. The girl had begun to stir.

He had hoped that she would never see her compromising position, but alas, that was not to be. Her eyes opened, and then widened, as she noticed her unusual point of view. He watched her, awkward and feeling a spectator, yet not daring to interfere. She squirmed, she jerked, she threw her weight around as much as it was possible for a girl to do. She was about his age, and rather muscular, for a girl, Link thought to himself. Between her muscle strength and her weight, she managed to snap the branch in half. And fall.

Link did not dare to do the chivalrous thing, and catch her.

As if it were inevitable that help should arrive only when no longer needed, a big, burly man—just the sort for, most probably, even shaking down trees, appeared. His olive green shirt opened near the top to show that he even had the quintessential manly chest hair sticking out. The red bandana on his head might have been made from the same cloth as the scarf around the girl's waist, and Link unconsciously relaxed a bit, even before the man turned to address the much smaller girl. His speech was awkward and hesitant, insecure, and full of admiration.

"Miss Tetra, you're alright!" Link saw the girl raise an eyebrow at the overstatement. "We were so worried when we saw that bird drop you on the summit…."

The girl looked away, biting her lip as if thinking. "'Summit'?" she repeated. "You mean that bird dropped me on top of a mountain?"

The man seemed unsure how to respond. Link considered speaking up, but what would he say? In the end, he hadn't really been the hero. He hadn't saved the girl; she had rescued herself, and now this man—one of her associates, would be taking her back to where she belonged. She seemed to be his "boss", in a manner of speaking.

He was fascinated by the exchange, it was true, but it was like a play—readily before the eyes, but so distant. The glimmer of excitement, the promise of novelty that came with the arrival of new faces, was about to go. Things would return to normal. His curiosity would remain unsated, and he knew enough from stories alone that he ought to be glad of the return to peace.

But something had filled his heart, fighting those monsters. A sense of rightness, of belonging, as if this were what he had been meant to do. He watched the girl—the pirate captain?— beckon the big man, listen to her dire imprecations against the abducting bird trail off, and had the urge to stow away on the pirate ship. He firmly quashed the idea, reminding himself of his little sister, and his grandmother, and all the other people of Outset, who would surely miss him, and a sense of belonging—his love of his island—filled him instead.

Still, there wasn't any sense in avoiding the pirates, who hadn't noticed him anyway. He followed them back out to the sunshine, and smiled when he saw his sister waving to him on the wooden bridge. It looked sturdier now, safer, of no danger next to the monstrous creatures he had fought in the forest.

And then came the bird, swooping low, clutching Aryll in its talons before he could think, and, rather than taking the time to think, he rushed after her—raced right off the cliff!

For a moment, he hung suspended, wondering why he hadn't fallen to his death on the rocks below. Then he heard a vaguely familiar voice, a voice he had just heard, although it had never spoken to him before. It was the pirate girl—Tetra. The source of her voice was strangely close to his ear.

"You…idiot!" she huffed, obviously struggling with his weight. "She's… one! Falling…off cliff…won't fix…that! You…wanna die?"

"But Aryll…" he protested, watching the giant bird vanish into the distance.

"D'you think…she wants…you…t'die?"

Silence.

"Gonzo…haul'im up."

The burly man grabbed both of his arms, after a while of fishing around for the other one, and hauled a thoroughly embarrassed Link back onto the cliff. He stayed there, on his hands and knees, for a few minutes.

"You cost me my revenge on that bird," Tetra said. "You owe me one for that."

And she stalked away. Link ran after her.

Chapter Text

Chapter One: Yo-Ho-Ho And a Bottle of Milk

"You wanna what?" asked Tetra again. This time they were on the beach before Outset, the prow of the pirate ship filling their vision. Link stared at it, his mouth set in grim determination.

"I want to come with you on your pirate ship," he replied, coolly.

"You wanna what!" Tetra said, even louder this time.

"I believe that Sylvanus has made his intentions quite clear," said an unfamiliar voice. Link turned to find the source, and was surprised to find that the voice belonged to the very postman he had been spying on not even an hour ago.

"But…but…this idiot twerp, on my ship—who does he think he is?!" Tetra (Captain Tetra, Link reminded himself) blustered.

"He is a boy who has just lost his sister to that dreadful monster, and wishes to rescue her. Aryll is quite beloved on this island," the postman said.

Link was stricken speechless, temporarily, by the sudden interposition of a complete stranger in his affairs. And on his side, at that.

"And just why should I let him—" the captain very meaningfully did not use Link's name "—on board my ship?"

The rito postman glanced at Link with an expression that urged silence. "It is a fact worth noting that you owe him. Twice over, as a matter of fact. First of all, he rescued you from monsters that the monster bird had brought to the island. Secondly, it is because of you that his sister was kidnapped."

"I didn't see any monsters—"

"You were unconscious," Link hastily interjected. Tetra gave him a glare that suggested he was of value equal to, if he were lucky, a one rupee piece. The rito postman silenced him with a stern look, and Link blushed at how childish he sounded. And today, I am to be considered an adult, he thought. Ridiculously, he wondered if perhaps, his birthday were actually several months hence, and had been misremembered. He felt a shameful child, the one who broke the cookie jar.

"It's not my fault that girl got kidnapped!" Tetra said, and Link was pleased to hear that she sounded defensive. He wasn't sure exactly how she was to blame, but if she were, then he would give her no quarter in the argument.

The rito postman crossed his arms. "Is that how you see it, Miss Fearsome Pirate? But, we Rito hear many things, carrying the mail far and wide. We have heard the stories already, of girls across the Great Sea with long ears like yours being abducted by a giant bird. Outset Island is so far away that she would have escaped notice, had you not come. If it weren't for you, that bird, what kidnapped you, would not have come to this peaceful island, and that poor girl wouldn't have been kidnapped." He pointed directly at her as he spoke, emphasising his words.

Tetra frowned, and Link could almost see her think.

"Be that as it may," she stalled, but the rito postman, arms once again folded, interrupted her.

"No buts. The least you can do is to take Sylvanus to where his sister is being held captive."

"But, I don't even know—" she began, but the rito cut her off again.

"She is being held in an old abandoned fortress far to the north. I believe they call it 'The Forsaken Fortress'."

The girl's eyes widened in what seemed to be genuine fear.

"'The Forsaken Fortress'?" she repeated. "I've heard rumours about the place. It's become pretty dangerous, hasn't it? And you, little boy. Do you want to do this? Are you sure you don't want to go crying home? Well, I'm not taking you unless you at least have something to defend yourself with. It's common sense. You're going into dangerous territory; you need some sort of defence."

Link was tempted to point out that he had fought off two monsters with just the sword. He was tempted to bristle and point out that he was hardly a little boy anymore. That was the whole meaning of the island clothes. Instead, he turned on his heel, towards the house he had lived in all his life.

"Wait here. Please, Mr. Postman. Don't let her leave without me. I'm not sure I'm a good enough swimmer to catch up to her ship."

The postman's eyebrows quirked, and Link thought he maybe caught a hint of an approving smile as he stalked past.

The two-storey cliffside home—his home all his life, which now felt taken from him—was not so very far from the sandy shore where the pirate ship lay moored. He passed the house of Sturgeon and Orca at a distance, sticking on the far side of the path, lest he gain their attention. Up the hill he climbed, wary, on the lookout for anyone who might note his passing. He passed, unnoticed and unseen, feeling as if the whole world had ceased to exist to him, or perhaps he had ceased to exist to the whole world, which seemed now empty and unreal.

He climbed the steps up to the lower level of his own home, wanting to knock, and then roughly opened the door, hastening inside.

The shield was in plain view now, and he only had eyes for it. It was a very plain-looking shield, all things considered—not as fancy and ornate as he had expected from the shield of the Legendary Hero. The shields elsewhere in Outset looked much the same. Standard issue—the sort of thing mass-produced. Sturgeon's books said as much.

It was made of steel, but the front was crudely painted over in brown with some sort of design of red vines, and in the middle, a triple triangle, apex pointing down, two equilateral triangles on top, and one on the bottom, arranged so that they formed an equilateral triangle. The same design was on the doors of every home, but there, the triangles were black, not yellow. He wondered what significance it had. It must have meant something important, once. He had never thought about it before, and wished that he could ask Sturgeon. He cautiously tilted the shield to the right, and froze at the small sound of it hitting the wall.

"Ah, so it's true, what they said," said a familiar voice, and Link's heart sank, for the voice belonged to his grandmother.

"Grandma…" he said.

"My poor, sweet, Aryll…kidnapped by monsters. That's why you came here for the shield. You already have a sword. The peace is ended, and you are going to war."

"Grandma, it's not like that," he said. He had wanted to be like the legendary Hero of Time, just as all the island boys had wanted, through centuries. Now, he just wanted Aryll back. That was the main thing. He couldn't bear the thought that his own grandmother see him as a warmonger, the way she always spoke of Orca. He's a bad influence on you. Such a violent, brutal man. She could no longer forbid him to visit Orca, but he ached for her approval— she was his mother and father, all the family other than Aryll that he had.

"No, no, I understand," she said. "A desire for peace has left us vulnerable. I know you just want to get Aryll back. Such a good boy. Such a sweet, thoughtful boy."

And his mind filled with memories of the times he had gone behind her back.

"Take the shield, Link," she said. So very quietly. "And bring Aryll back safely."

He nodded, and she reached up, short as she was, and easily lifted the shield from its place of honour on the wall. The ceremonial wreath now surrounded bare wall. It looked lonely.

He noticed a certain frightening rightness about settling the shield on his back, as if it were meant to be there, and the senseless fighting his grandmother so abhorred were what he were meant to do. It occurred to him that this might be the last time he ever saw his grandmother. He considered giving her a hug goodbye, and then thought that that felt too final.

Instead, he jumped down from the second storey, that he not have to face her as he climbed down the ladder, not have to see her face as she watched him leave.

He was at the door, about to open it, when he heard her speak again.

"Link…." He turned back to face her, as if he could not help it, but she was already out of sight. "Be careful. You come home safely, too."

He nodded, again, and stepped back out onto Outset Island. There, still on the shore, the pirate captain waited for him with crossed arms and tapping feet. Her hair was rolled up into a peculiar bun, secured on top of her head by means unseen. Her clothes looked cleaner. He wondered if she had really had the time to do her hair and change her clothes while she waited for him. Perhaps he just hadn't noticed her appearance properly before.

The rito postman was still waiting for him on the shore. Link wondered if he would be punished for shirking his duties, but there was no sense of urgency as the postman turned to face him.

"Link Sylvanus, there is little I can do for you here. However, if you ever find yourself in need of aid, come to Dragon Roost Island, the home of us rito. I'm sure our chieftain, a noble man, will do all he can to help you, if you tell him of your plight. At the very least, remind him that I said that we would help you. Although you might not remember my name, eh?"

The corners of a mouth nearly hidden under the triangular beak turned upwards in what might have been a smile.

"Don't worry; I'm not offended. We've had little speech enough, before. I am Quill. Tell him that Quill sent you, and he should listen. Good luck."

"Are you quite done with the sentimental goodbyes already?" asked the pirate captain, tapping her foot. "Or can we forget this whole thing? I see you got a shield, though. Can you even use that old thing? Are you sure it won't shatter into splinters? No? Well, this is your last chance to go crying home."

"Don't send him off! Don't send him off!" said a pirate boy of about fourteen, in a red-and-white striped shirt and a loose-fitting pair of blue pants and hat. "If he joins, I'm no longer the bottom rung of the ladder! Hey, new swabbie! I'm your new boss, Niko!"

"He is not an honorary pirate," the pirate captain said, eyeing Niko's emotional display with distaste (he was still jumping up and down in excitement even as she began to speak). "Although, it might do him good. Okay, fine. While we're on board, you report to Niko. Do whatever he tells you, and don't cause problems, alright?"

"Yippee!" Niko cried, as Link nodded.

"And you, stop that. It's disgraceful. You're a pirate; act like it."

With that, she turned on her heel and boarded the ship via a gangplank that lowered down from the upper decks while they were talking. She walked up the narrow piece of wood with confidence, whilst Link followed more hesitantly. He wanted to go home already, but Aryll was counting on him.

Not long after that, the pirates set sail, hoisting up the main sail and drawing up anchor, and doing whatever else needed to be done—Link could scarcely follow all of the activity. His eyes kept returning to shore, where the islanders were made aware of their departure by the clanging of a great gong. He scanned the familiar faces with regret, trying to put a happy face on the situation as he waved at them. They already seemed far away.

But, he very nearly lost his composure when he saw that Grandma had come out onto the deck she had used (according to her stories) to watch for his grandfather's return, decades ago. He waved as frantically as he could at her, and saw her wave feebly back. She seemed to be putting her best face on the matter, too. He kept it up as they set sail, further and further out to sea.

But, he was driven out of his thoughts by Tetra's bored voice.

"How much longer do you suppose he'll keep this up?" she asked, ostensibly to Gonzo, the man who had followed her to the summit.

Suddenly self-conscious, just as he was sure she intended, he stopped waving, and frowned.

"What? You're such a baby. You go off to rescue your sister in a fanfare with ceremony as if you've actually done something, and—are you crying? Seriously, it's not too late to throw you overboard."

"I'm going to rescue Aryll," said Link firmly, face set. Tetra did not seem impressed.

"Whatever. Look, keep out from underfoot, and go see what Niko wants you to do. Earn your keep. It won't take more than a few days to get there if things continue as they are; the wind's almost favourable."

Link could tell—he could just tell—that the wind was blowing northeast. He nodded—there was no way that he was going to ask questions or complain. She already thought him pathetic and a baby; there was no need to feed the fire. He caught a brief look of surprise as he stood and made to go downstairs, to where Niko awaited, but he turned, as he approached the stairs to below decks.

"Thank you, Tetra," he said, giving a brief bow, and descended into the below without turning back.

He did acclimate, if slowly, to life on board the pirate ship, but it was hard to get used to the constant jeers from almost every member of the crew. Only Niko seemed to like him, but apparently the crew at large had never heard of the legend of the Hero of Time, judging by the constant barrage of insults his outfit received.

Tetra and Gonzo, oddly enough, were the only other two pirates who did not mock him for his clothes. Gonzo, obsequious to Tetra, but hardly rougher towards anyone else, didn't have the temperament.

But, Tetra was an oddity. He seemed to have gained some modicum of respect, or perhaps he was an object of curiosity. He wasn't sure. No explanation he thought of made sense. He could never have a conversation with her without her implying that she thought he was a wimp, but—perhaps it was guilt?—she seemed to be taking the rescue mission seriously.

For his part, he was all too aware of his vulnerability and how much rode on staying in Tetra's good graces. He did not want to get on her bad side, and be cast overboard into the sea (although he began to suspect she would not actually do this; a lot of her gruff demeanour seemed to just be a tough façade.

When Niko hadn't set him a task, and he had free time—which was almost only at night, when he slept, or at mealtime—he might occasionally try to speak to Tetra, but she grew increasingly irritable with him. He had to back down when she turned her pirate captain glare of disapproval at him.

He understood, staying on board the ship, why the pirates respected and were somewhat intimidated by her. Nevertheless, he discovered that the journey was expected to last three days, that Tetra ran the pirates alone, and that the Forsaken Fortress was located far to the North, and had once been the home of some small time rivals of Tetra's crew, but now seemed shrouded by an ominous force that brooked no daylight.

She did not seem to care to learn anything from him in return, and interrupted him more swiftly if he tried to make small talk with her than if he tried to discuss the mission at hand.

Niko, he knew well, only appreciated no longer having to do the most menial tasks of the ship; Link felt certain that, even during his short stay on board, his complete lack of skill at cooking had improved radically, as he learnt how to make the most of the pirates' preserved stores. Nor could he ever not appreciate his grandmother's hard work cleaning and tidying the house. The pirate ship was larger, it was true, but many of the tasks were familiar chores from home.

The oddest task was one that Niko finally had set up for him on what turned out to be the final day of their voyage. He claimed that this task was one that all pirates had to undergo when they joined the crew (Link was sceptical; Niko seemed to be going out of his way to hide what he was doing from the rest of the pirates). Down below decks, in the cargo hold, raised platforms held up by rotating wooden posts rose up at various points throughout the room. On the far side was a ledge of about equal height, and a door in the middle, leading to a room Link had never been to.

As Link entered the room where the task was set up, he noticed barrels off to the sides of the room, and two switches on the raised ledge where he was standing. He reconsidered the task being a construction of Niko's own devising—how would he have hidden those platforms, and the switches?

Link had little time to contemplate the truth or falsity of the story before Niko's exuberant voice cut into his thoughts.

"There you are, swabbie! Behold, the super hard pirate crew entrance test! Only those who pass this difficult task are allowed to become pirates. You see that ledge over there?" Niko pointed to the ledge at the far end of the room. "Your task is to get to that ledge and through the open doorway before time runs out, and the switch resets itself. And how do you do that, you ask?"

Link hadn't asked, but Niko didn't seem to care. He took a running jump onto a platform in front of him, and turned back to face Link. "See, you jump from platform to platform. But it's not that easy. That next platform that I need to get to is too far to jump. So, I'll just have to swing from the rope holding the lamps."

Niko had definitely not come up with this on his own. Link noticed the lamps dangling from ropes scattered throughout the room and began to chart a course to the other side of the room. It was good experience, he figured. You never knew what knowledge might come in useful—Sturgeon had taught him that.

He watched Niko grab onto the rope, carefully manipulate his body to bring the rope to a standstill, climb a bit higher up the rope (which remained stationary, to Link's surprise; the lanterns must be very heavy, to balance out Niko's weight); then Niko pumped out his legs, swinging back and forth, and the rope began to sway, and the timbres above to creak, but Niko paid them no mind, launching off when he had gathered enough momentum.

He landed on the platform hard, took a moment to catch his breath and to recover from the impact, and proceeded across the room.

"But, be careful, swabbie. If time runs out, the platforms drop—" an ominous ticking filled the room, as Niko ran through the door, "—and the portcullis falls."

A heavy grate fell down, obscuring Niko from view. Niko's voice carried through the square holes, however, unimpeded. "It will probably take you a year. One rough year, full of bumps and bruises. But, if you make it sooner, I'll give you something, as a reward."

Link noticed that the platforms had sunk into the floor, and were covered by trapdoors. He looked at the two switches, and chose one at random to step on.

The platforms rotated upwards, and Link took a moment to wonder how that worked before running for the first platform. From there, the process seemed unusually easy. Niko had made the task seem very difficult, but he made it through the door, not only on his first attempt, but with time to spare.

Perhaps Niko had been exaggerating the difficulty deliberately, to make it seem more intimidating than it was? But, he seemed genuinely surprised that it had taken Link such a short time. Take his stutter for example, when he congratulated Link, or the way he seemed to have to think fast about what Link's reward could be.

"I know!" he cried, after several minutes of searching frantically around the storage room beyond the ledge. "Here!"

And Niko thrust a wallet full of rupees at him. "This wallet carries two hundred rupees! Isn't that a great reward? Aren't I a great… supervisor… guy?"

"It has money in it, already. Are you sure you should be giving this?"

Niko was one of the few people who were nice to Link, and Link didn't want to see him castigated by Tetra. Plus, Link already had a wallet, hidden somewhere in his clothes. He had forgotten about it until just now—and maybe he had left it back on the island in his haste? No, he was sure that he had it.

"Two hundred rupees isn't much. It's my old wallet, the one I used before I was old enough to join the crew. I've lived on the boat all my life, you see, but—"

"Oi! Sylvanus! Get your lazy butt up here!"

Both of them jolted, perhaps each feeling a bit guilty, and Niko looked a bit pale in the lantern light. "Go on! Take it and go!"

Link suspected that there was no time for arguing. He stuffed the wallet into a pocket in his clothes, and ran out the door, and up to the deck of the ship. Tetra stood off to the left, staring out over the sea. "Took you long enough!" she snapped, rather unfairly. "Look out there!" She gestured in the direction she had been looking. "We're here."

Link looked off to the left, where a huge…fortress…rose high into the sky. Three sets of searchlights constantly roved the surface. A nest up on a higher spire contained a giant helmeted bird.

He pulled out his telescope to look closer. "Look over there," Tetra said, before he could start scouring the outside of the base from top to bottom. She tilted the telescope down and to the right, and Link took a step back. "Sorry. Got a bit impatient. But, do you see that window? How all the seagulls flock around the light? Didn't you say seagulls were drawn to your sister?"

Link nodded, and then gulped, lowering the telescope. "I think it's your best bet," Tetra said. "We're not going to get a clearer sign. Whoever rules this place won't advertise where the girls are being held, if he went through the trouble of kidnapping them."

Link quietly wondered how many people had come to rescue someone being held here. There were several victims, if what Quill had said was true.

Tetra was continuing to talk as he thought, and he came back to her words in time to be horrified. And rather scared.

"Don't worry a bit about this. We've got a ton of practice. It's the very best way to sneak in undetected, and it won't hurt at all."

He had been told that something wouldn't hurt at all several times throughout his life, usually in relation to injuries that Sturgeon, or Orca, or his grandma had had to tend. She had always assured him that the alcohol he knew was about to be applied would not hurt at all, which did nothing to change the fact that it did. He didn't know what was about to happen, but he did know that it was going to be painful.

"Get in the barrel," Tetra instructed him, and he wondered when the navigator, a man whose name he had never gotten to know, but who had made his disdain for Link's clothes the plainest, had dragged a barrel up next to him. Had he been that distracted?

"Don't worry; it's quite safe," Tetra reassured him, and both her tone of voice, and her words, increased his wariness tenfold. She had no right being so amused by the situation.

But, the alternative was facing her wrath, and (call him a coward) he didn't feel quite up to that.

He climbed into the barrel, and then clung to the rim as he was lowered into the mouth of the cannon? What!

"We're professionals. You'll be fine. Just find your sister and get out of there. We'll wait for you for one day—alright? Next sunset, we leave. So, hurry up. That place is huge!"

"Three!" called the helmsman. Link could imagine the glee the man was experiencing at the thought of his impending misfortune. Link closed his eyes, and tried to calm down. "Two!" the same voice called. Link clung to the lip of the barrel, wishing he had more faith in the pirates to do this right. The walls looked very sturdy, and the barrel felt very flimsy. "One!"

He closed his eyes, and braced himself, and a moment later, he felt the wind rushing past his face, and almost forgot the danger for a moment. Perhaps, this was how Tetra had felt, in the clutches of the great bird, back home on Outset. But, the feeling of weightlessness was something he found exhilarating. He had a fleeting wish that he someday might learn to fly—a ridiculous notion, but the air was making him giddy.

Then, the barrel made impact with the hard stone wall, and the wall was quite as hard as it looked from a distance, and the barrel quite as flimsy as it had seemed. He smashed into the wall, the blow slightly softened by the barrel's impact, and then by its shielding wood, but it still hurt worse than anything he had experienced yet.

He stifled a cry, and then he was falling backwards, back first, and the sword fell from its sheath, clattering to the ground somewhere far below, and he followed a different course, landing in a pond at the waterway entrance to the fort.

Professionals, ha!

He quickly swam onto a nearby ledge, and bent over on hands and knees at the water's edge, thankful that the impact hadn't killed him, and, although dripping wet, thankful even that he hadn't drowned.

Then, his pocket quivered, and a voice spoke, muffled by the fabric. He had a moment's bewildered disorientation, and then he reached in, and pulled out a necklace he had never seen before, with a blue stone glowing inside. Within the stone appeared the face of Tetra, looking a bit sheepish. "Sorry about that. Looks like our aim was a bit off."

"You're sorry?" Link repeated in a harsh whisper. "Thanks to your carelessness, I'm in the entrance to enemy territory with nothing but a shield. And, how are you talking to me, anyway?"

"Well, well, well. So, you do have a bit of gumption after all. But, the harm's done. I saw your sword land on a ledge, somewhere up pretty high, but there seems to be a lot of activity there. It seemed near to the window where we agreed your sister is, so you're going there, anyway. Just retrieve the sword then, and hurry up, lest the guards find it. And we're talking via the stone I slipped into your pocket."

Link blushed scarlet at the realisation that he hadn't even noticed her do that. When had it happened? Far too much of his awkwardness came back; it was too difficult to remain angry with Tetra for a well-intentioned plan that had accidentally gone wrong.

He turned away from Tetra to hide his embarrassment and discomfiture, but turned back when she continued. "Anyway, we're in this together, right? I did say I'd help you. So, I'll be your guide. This stone allows me to see and hear things around you. Call it a sort of psychic connection. Got it?"

Link, remembering Sturgeon's lessons of a few days ago, nodded. "Well, with this, I can help you by giving you advice on rescuing your sister. For example, I'm suspecting that you'll find the path to the place where they're keeping your sister somewhere directly below the room, like in a tower.

"But, you probably want to take out those searchlights first. So, try to find a way up to the three lookout towers. It looks like there are monsters manning the lights, and they get up there via ladders. Be on the lookout, and I'll try and help out, too. If I have anything more to say, you'll know. Sorry, but that's the way the communication stones work."

Link put the stone back in his pocket, blushing again, and reached for the shield strapped to his back. It was something, at least, and he still had Aryll's telescope—he couldn't face the thought of telling her he'd somehow lost it.

He noticed an empty storage barrel sitting near the water's edge, doubtless to make it easier to refill, and hid himself in it, unsurprised, after his barrel-based disaster, to find that he fit into it easily. He began to crawl across a level central "square", relying on what little he could see through the slats of the poorly constructed barrel to let him know when the searchlights were approaching, and whither he was heading.

It was an arduous, painstakingly slow process, but he was kept on edge by the threat of what might happen to him if the monsters notice that something was amiss, and he be caught. He avoided the tall double doors off to the left, thinking that if anywhere were to be the central base for the monsters, and a last resort path, it was the room beyond. Bright light seeped through under the door, which was barred from the outside. It would take too long to remove that bar and enter, anyway, and the searchlights never stopped.

Instead, he headed for a covered walkway, and the uncovered path leading upwards. He could only faintly make out where he was going, but it would be much harder for the lights to reach into the covered walkway, so it seemed a good starting choice.

Upon reaching the other side of the centre of the Forsaken Fortress, he eagerly removed the barrel from over his head, and hastened into the covered walkway, waiting for the searchlights to leave before daring to peek around to try to see where the uncovered path might lead. He even dared to creep around the side wall barrel-less, but quickly retreated under the covered path when he saw the searchlights—seemingly two different sets—sweep over the path. He hastened to retreat back to the safety of the covered path, resolving to wait until he had taken out at least one of the lights before returning. He noticed that he seemed to be swiftly limiting his avenues of approach, and wondered if he weren't making a mistake.

The walkway had another archway leading to a balcony, this directly facing him, and set into the balcony was a ladder. He remembered what Tetra had said about ladders leading up to the searchlights, and began to climb.

At the top of the ladder, he found a flat area enclosed almost entirely by a short bounding wall—about half his height, if he could judge—with two gaps in it only: the one by which he had entered, and another, more or less opposite. At least half of the floor space was occupied by the searchlight, mounted on a swiveling base, which had a small barrier around it to prevent the searchlight from falling off. A platform led up to the searchlight, with a place for its operator to stand. At least, Link assumed that the black-furred monster standing before it was its operator.

Link recognised the monster as of the same type he had fought back on the summit at home. But, back then, he had had a sword. Now, he only had a shield. Good thing that the bokoblin was equipped with nothing more dangerous than a cudgel. Link noticed a pot full of similar cudgels standing nearby. Well, it was better even such a crude weapon than nothing.

Feeling that this was a thoroughly unheroic and unseemly start to his quest, he crouched down low to the ground and began to crawl towards the jar, lest he catch the guard's attention. The guard was, thankfully, not the attentive sort, although sentry work on such a forbidding fortress was likely very dull work for an inhabitant—there were never any ships coming near enough to pose a threat. Complacence was understandable.

When he came to the pot, Link abruptly stood, swiftly reaching as far down into the pot as he could to grab the thinnest part of the club. He pulled it out far enough to reach down further for a better grip, and then held the club in both hands; he hadn't realised before how heavy it was. The bokoblin had not seemed particularly strong, but it still carried the club with ease in only one of its hands. Likely a blow from such a hand was almost as bad as being hit with the club.

Steeling himself, Link resigned himself to facing the monster armed only with a club. As he approached it, as if sensing his presence, the monster turned around, swinging the club with a twisting jump attack. Link ducked and whacked the creature in the face, then retracted the club with an effort, and, judging that the monster was about to jump towards him again, dodged to the right, and positioned the club that the monster whack itself on the head when it straightened up from the jump. The blow connected with limited force, but the monster staggered, and Link quickly whacked it on the head again.

To his surprise, as before on the summit, the monster seemed to compress into a ball of smoke, and then disappear, this time leaving behind a necklace with a giant butterfly on it. It was so vibrant—yellow, pink, and blue—that Link wondered how the monster had come by it. It did not fit his image of the sort of jewelry a monster would wear, if indeed a monster wore jewelry at all. He picked it up, and slipped it into his pocket, thinking that he could show it to someone later, and learn more about where these pendants came from.

Turning back to the searchlights, he realised that, at some point during the battle, each of the trumpet shaped horns had risen so that both searchlights pointed straight into the sky. Well, that made things simpler. But, doubtless, whoever was in charge of the fortress would soon realise that his searchlights were malfunctioning, and then Link would be found out. He had better hurry. He dropped the club and hurried to make sure that there was ground beneath the second gap of the wall.

With no better plan of attack available, Link jumped off the other side of the tower from that whence he had entered. He found himself on the winding, uncovered ramp upwards he had noticed earlier. At the other end, and sweeping at an angle over the path, was a second searchlight. Well, the plan had worked well enough thus far….

Two searchlights later, Link found himself on a balcony near a covered walkway, feeling much safer with the searchlights all out.

He also felt that he had a much better layout of the Fortress. The essential shape of the Fortress was that of a hexagon. A series of rooms, each with two landings over a lower level that he could only reach the other side by swinging across a lamp rope, connected covered walkways to one another. Every other room was located under a tower.

However, one room caught his attention, for rather than two doors—one the entrance, and one leading to the next covered walkway—this room had three. He had made his best guess, judging that the door he didn't have to swing on a lamp rope to get to led to the covered walkway.

And, he had been right. But now, he was curious about that other door. He had made a circuit of the Fortress, as this was only the second of the joining rooms he had been in. But, he found that the rooms were remarkably consistent (although the very next room had a path leading away to what seemed to be a jail, the other rooms were very straightforward).

He realised that he was running out of locations for the path to the tower, and, while slamming into walls was a disorienting experience, he had a feeling that he was near to where he had begun, and the mysterious third door was his pathway up. He glanced back at the ladder up to the third searchlight tower, and then retraced his footsteps, cautiously swinging across the gap to the mysterious door.

Beyond was a completely different sort of room. He saw two monsters, both of the same type, but which he had never seen before, wearing blue trousers and (why not?) necklaces of orange and teal beads with skulls pendants in the centre. Both carried a jabbing spear with suspicious casualness, and both carried a lantern in the other hand. A wooden walkway curved in a circle around the room, and it was in this circle that the monsters (the moblins) trod. At the opposite end was a ramp leading to a door hidden in the wall. Or, at least, Link hoped that there was a hidden door, because he was running out of locations for the tower's entrance.

Noticing that the monsters often seemed to need to pause and sniff the air around them, he guessed that their eyesight was not quite up to guard duty, and hoped that the barrels conveniently near the entrance would help mask his scent.

He pulled one over his head, as before, and began to crawl, heart in his throat with the threat of those spears so near. Whenever a moblin came within his line of vision, or whenever he felt a strange sense of danger (of being watched, Orca would say), he immediately stopped and let the barrel settle over him, holding his breath until the moblin disappeared from sight, and the sense of danger passed.

In this way, he made the slow journey, clockwise, about the edges of the room, and kept the barrel on him until the wall that had blocked the exit door from his sight hid him from view. Then, he hastened to push open the doors and to head outside.

Outside was a balcony, initially seeming completely closed off, until he turned to look to his immediate left, whence a path led up. It put him in mind of the covered walkway he had encountered near the entrance, but this one was uncovered—no roof blocked out the elements, or the light from the searchlights. He was glad that he had disabled the lights; who knew what the monsters would do to any whom they managed to capture? The fall from such a height was rather intimidating.

Seeing a conveniently placed barrel ("what, again?" his mind demanded; this one had no logical purpose being there), he sighed, hoping that he were merely over-cautious and thorough, and that there was no real need of it.

He had scarce covered himself before a sense of danger arose—he shivered, his senses heightened, and tried to slack his breath. He had the sense that the skull-wearing monsters were more dangerous than those that left behind butterfly jewelry. He wondered if, even with his sword, he would have been able to defeat them.

At length, the moblin turned around, swinging its lantern and spear, and began marching back whence it had come, back up the path. Link followed with great caution, hoping that this was the only guard. It was merciful that his previous experience with moblins informed him that they were not intelligent enough to question the behaviour of mobile barrels—just as long as they did not see them in action, anyway.

Eventually, the moblin once more turning around to head back below informed him that the path was nearing its end. Judging as best he could his height, he suspected that he was near the top of the tower wherein his sister was being kept, and excitement crept up on him. He found himself reaching for a sword that wasn't there, and realised that he was paying dangerously little attention to his surroundings. He was almost done with his quest; Aryll was almost rescued; he would very soon go home.

He stilled, calming himself down sufficiently in time to avoid piquing the sentinel's suspicions. He began the now maddeningly slow crawl up to the end of the path. Through the slats, he perceived the abrupt turn of the path onto another balcony, rather like the one below. The narrow gap in the bounding wall had large holes bored into it, and he took a moment to wonder how to pick a path across. But, as he approached, laying a hand upon the hole, he felt a cool, smooth substance—like invisible glass. It must be safe to walk over, and, on the other side, he could remove the barrel—the moblins couldn't see that far, he would be out of their line of sight, and the bounding wall would hide him in any case.

He ignored the holes in the floor, and entered the balcony. There was no guard (he realised that he had assumed that there would be none on account of not hearing anything, or seeing the flicker of the lights they bore; foolishly careless of him, Orca and Sturgeon would swift agree).

But, with his goal, at last, in sight, he grew impatient, and perhaps justifiably careless. He turned to great double doors, wooden and several storeys high, barred with a thick square log held in place with brackets. Beyond this door must be Aryll. Fortuitously, the door itself was outside of the direct sight of the entryway; even if he had some trouble prising free the bar, he would not be seen.

He almost tripped over the sword Orca had given to him, and took a moment to feel guilty for forgetting Orca's gift; but for its personal value, there was no more need of it; the quest was almost done. But, it felt…reassuring, to return the blade to its proper place of the sheath at his side. He wondered whether it might not prove useful in opening the door, and cringed at the thought of Orca's reaction to his using the sword as a lever.

He made for the door, and was about to reach for the bar when the sound of metal against stone drew his attention to the entrance to the balcony. A green monster with an overbite suggesting a kinship with the butterfly jewelry monsters had somehow appeared at the edge of the balcony, facing him, while he had been preoccupied with the door. This one dressed quite similarly, as well, with a leather vest, and pants. Perhaps it was just a different colour of fur of the same monster, the way ordinary people had different skin colours.

It did have, however, one decidedly non-cosmetic difference; in its hand, it bore a sword (a cutlass, he believed it was called) with an ease that suggested that it knew well how to wield such a blade—trained, perhaps, from childhood—as Link had been?

He should not have relaxed. The monster came toward him, and he, grudgingly, accepted that he must go to meet it. A glance to the side told him what noise he had heard—not the drawing of the bokoblin's sword, but the springing of a trap of steel spikes, barring his only exit.

Chastising himself for his folly and impulsivity, he drew the sword and shield off from their respective places, using them in tandem for the first time.

He found that he understood more than he had given himself credit for of Orca's instruction. His shield rose, almost automatically, to block a blow from the bokoblin to his left side, and Link took the opportunity, as he knew the bokoblin's sword was occupied, to reach past and land a cut of his own across the vest, deepening as it approached the vital areas of the creature's chest.

The brevity of the battle surprised him, as the creature folded in on itself in a puff of black smoke, to be replaced with another of those butterfly pendants. He did not dare to sheathe the sword, standing still for several long moments. The spikes of the trap at the entryway did not retract, but no new monsters appeared.

Eventually relaxing, he returned sword to sheath, but kept the shield ready in case of ambush.

Walking back towards the door, he swiftly laid a hand on the bar, and then immediately snatched it back, listening, intent on catching any sign of the enemy before they could attack. He turned to look back at the balcony. No one was there.

He reached again for the bar, and, slowly, lifted it from the brackets. It was not as heavy as he had expected. The door, despite its great size, was easy to push open, which, he supposed, made sense; it must have been the way by which the prisoners had entered, and prisoners were not known for being easy to handle. Preventing escape meant keeping the door in good working order.

There was a metal grate in the middle of the room, leading down into darkness, and it immediately caught his eye. He took a second to wonder if the prisoners weren't being held down there, when he heard a familiar voice, close by:

"Link! Over here, silly! I told you he would come, Mila."

His heart leapt at the sound of Aryll's voice, coming from a heretofore-unnoticed cage-like prison lining the wall to his left. Within that cage were several girls, of varying ages. There were a couple of very young children—no older than six or seven, and several girls in their teens. Some had blonde hair, some brunette, some black, and there were even a couple of redheads. Aryll, one of three preteen girls, was not within his immediate line of sight, but her sky blue dress stood out against the drabness of her prison as well as against the tamer clothes of the other girls.

Well, mostly tamer. Aryll was facing a girl of about Link's own age—maybe as young as fifteen, with long blonde hair the same colour as Aryll's or Link's, done up in a bun, with a blue headdress. She wore a salmon pink hoop skirt, and carried a hand fan.

She had the sort of personality that could always make it clear that they were looking down on you in contempt; she was definitely in the middle of doing that now, and her contempt seemed to be directed at Aryll.

Link's dark blue eyes met hers, and she scoffed, and then turned away with an indifference that must be masking discomfort. Link realised, belatedly, that he was glaring at her, on account of her treatment of his younger sister.

Aryll, grinning broadly, waved at him, before beckoning him over.

"You said that he would rescue us," said Mila—the girl with the fancy clothes must be Mila, or Link would assume that she was for simplicity's sake. There was a brief pause, and then Mila finished, "He hasn't rescued us yet. Don't be so cocky."

Link was about to realise that he had no means of opening their cage (he would doubtless have attempted breaking through the bars, somehow), when he felt a sense of towering dread, followed by a strong wind, blowing him backwards to the mysteriously closed great doors. And, the pressure of the wind only increased, driving him back, no matter how he try to dig in his feet into the unyielding ground….

Before he could make any plans, he saw the face of a familiar nightmare as it bore down on him, eyes gleaming yellow in its steel mask, vividly yellow talons extended, powerful wings drawn in as it plunged toward him, before he was roughly seized by those talons, and, with a few swift wingbeats, so loud in their proximity that they drowned out Aryll's cries, and any response the blonde-haired girl, Mila, might have made, up they flew, and up, and up, as Link tried to neither panic, nor scream.

He focused on surveying the fortress—what he could see of it, trapped as he was in the jaws of a giant bird. He oriented himself by the bird's nest, and watched in ever-mounting dread as they flew towards a great shipwreck, some old wooden vessel, capsized, and then hauled up here. It now served as the home base for a man—Link couldn't see the man's face, but immediately a strong feeling of foreboding—the warning that he was in the presence of evil—filled him. Fear and dread overwhelmed him, try as he might to force them down, but he kept his eyes open, looking, watching.

The man had skin with a greenish cast to it, covered in a long, loose black robe, a robe with thick decorative bands at the cuffs and the lining. The broad body—broad from girth or muscle, he couldn't tell, but his foreboding feeling suggested the latter—was the limit of his sight. The face, the head, remained hidden, and the man remained strangely unknown.

There was a momentary silence, as he felt the weight of the man's eyes upon him. He wanted to do something, but didn't know what. Perhaps, what he wanted was to strike out at this man, whom he was sure was responsible for the kidnap of Aryll and all of those other girls. Perhaps, he wanted to hide, or to hide something?

The man spoke, and the voice was a familiar one, deep and ominous: "Get rid of him."

Link was certain that he had heard that voice before, but where?

But, the bird flapped his wings, and the man was hidden from sight, and the bird pitched Link with its beak, far out into the sea, and he heard screaming. He was certain that it was he who screamed, but not only he. Another screamed with him. But, even as the water began to approach him—to grow closer, rather than further away, he found his consciousness fading, and, despite his efforts to remain focussed, he lost consciousness.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: A Few Minor Setbacks

He had not expected to wake up, after having been thrown from such a height. Even less did he expect to wake, sitting up, on a strangely rocking surface. He slowly realised, observing the wood set in slats all around him, that he sat in a boat, and that that was why the ground beneath him was rocking. But, how had he come to be on this boat to begin with? Where was its owner, and who had rescued him?

The boat was small enough that it was readily apparent that he now sat alone in the middle of a tiny sailboat (he could see the rigging for a small mast), which left one location only for its projected owner—the sea itself. All around there were only open waters, with the occasional towering post (he later learnt that these were platforms for monsters to scout the seas), and, far distant, islands. This suggested that the owner should be in the water somewhere. The boat pitched as he leant over to check, and the prow of the ship, a curved stylised lion head, red as the rest of the boat, turned on its wooden neck to face him, and spoke.

"Ah, so you have awakened," said a deep voice, and it took Link a moment to realise that, yes, it was the boat that was talking to him. "Fear not. I am the King of Red Lions, and I have been watching you, ever since you came to the Forsaken Fortress. I it was who rescued you when the great bird threw you from its heights, and you have been unconscious for many days since. I have taken the liberty of helping you in your quest, and am bringing you to Windfall Island, where we will purchase some…essentials. There are many supplies you would do well to acquire before embarking on your quest—supplies you ought to have had before you entered the Forsaken Fortress to begin with—"

Link had some difficulty taking in all of this new information, and it was a good thing that none of it was terribly important. Until the boat had mentioned that he had been unconscious for several days, he hadn't noticed his great hunger, too lost in trying to orient himself, but now he felt it keenly. He might have introduced himself, or asked questions, but the King of Red Lions continued, pausing only to breathe (if boats needed to do such).

"Though there are many ships with more storied histories and greater size than I upon these seas, none have weathered more storms nor seen more of its area than I, and I have found none—there are none, indeed, that possess the power of speech."

A tall island approached, curiously seeming to spiral up, a bit like the shell of a snail. Link watched its approach, wondering if he dared to interrupt. The boat was still facing forward.

Link wondered, briefly, where its sail was, but the boat seemed to be moving at a remarkable speed even without one. But, what did he know? His grandmother had taken pains to keep him off ships, after the storm that lost him his parents.

"This is Windfall Island, a centre for trade and commerce. Here you will be able to find most any provisions you might need for your quest. You will need food, at the least, and, although it shames me to admit it… ah—although I possess the power of speech, I do not possess a sail. In these dangerous waters, speed is an invaluable asset. Purchase whatever supplies you must, but do not fail to acquire a sail! Did you understand everything I told you?"

Well, yes, he did, but that was hardly the end of it.

Link, overwhelmed with fear for his sister and for himself for four days, and given no chance to recover after, was at rather the last of his patience. And he was, therefore, a bit less polite than usual when he was given leave to speak.

"I understood what you said well enough, except for a few crucial points. Who are you? Why can you speak? What quest are you talking about? What do you mean, you've been watching me? Why should I follow you—?"

The boat had obviously not been raised to be polite. He sighed, bowing his head before turning back to interrupt Link, even as he pulled into a grotto—almost a bay, an inlet off the uninhabited wildness of the island (the fields of produce that were the island's supplies of crops). Link had been so busy listening that he had failed to notice the impending island, excited to finally visit the place of origin of his grandfather, but a bit overwhelmed nonetheless.

"I am the King of Red Lions, and I saw you as you approached the Fortress. I watched your progress from a distance, sitting in the waters to the east. You saw him, did you not? The man who rules that vile Fortress, with the evil feeling about him?"

Against his will, Link shuddered at the memory. Black robes, embroidered in red and gold at the hems and cuffs, with a high collar, and a scorching heat, as if he laid fertile ground waste all around him. Link knew that this was whom the boat was speaking of.

The boat saw his reaction, and his voice, if possible, turned grimmer and more solemn than it had been before.

"They say that on Outset Island, there is still a legend told of the Hero of Time," said the boat, and a curious, hard edge entered his tone at the mention of the Legendary Hero. Link, who might otherwise have offered up his newfound knowledge of his lineage, heard the strange tone, and kept silent. Still, he noted the boat's tone with no small amount of curiosity, resolving to puzzle over it later. For now, he listened. "A young boy, clothed in green, rather like the clothes you wear, who acquired the Blade of Evil's Bane and sealed away a mighty evil, which returned, after the Hero's demise, and spread darkness throughout the kingdom—leading to its ruination."

Link's mouth went dry. He had a suspicion he knew whither this story tended, and knew that he wouldn't like it at all.

"That man, on the top of the Forsaken Fortress, is the same evil not vanquished by the Hero. His name…is Ganon. And, if you wish to save your sister, you will doubtless need to face him. So tell me, do you think that you have the courage needed to face even that man, if necessary?"

Link closed his eyes, refusing to be intimidated. He knew it for a fact, at this moment: he would do whatever it took to rescue Aryll. He hesitated only such a short time, to allow himself the opportunity to be truly honest with himself, to recognise his limitations, what he would have to overcome, and then gave a tight nod. He wasn't sure that he could speak yet.

"Then, you will need my guidance," said the Boat-That-Speaks. "And, I will gladly guide you, for I have sailed the seas for many long years, seeking for one with your strength of heart. Together, we will rescue your sister. But first, the sail."

Link blinked at the sudden, abrupt change in tone, as the tension—the hanging importance strung in the air, dissipated.

"Buy whatever else you need, and then come back here, and I will take you to the first place we will need to go, and give you further instructions."

He's not closed at all, thought Link, with a certain amount of residual resentment burning off from his earlier frustration. It was hard to see the town and the fields all about, and not think of his grandfather, wondering if the man were still alive, still living on Windfall Island, anymore.

He was not one to dwell on the bad for long, nor to bear a grudge. He rather thought he might make an exception or two, for the evil man who had taken Aryll from him, but the circumstances there were quite extraordinary.

He leapt from the boat and into soft yellow sand, springy as moss, as much of the seashore. A natural arch led into the inlet on one side, and on the other, a trail led up into the farmlands. He could hear the mooing of cows, and the clucking of cuccos, and the contented snorting of pigs, like those that lived back on Outset. Wheat and oats grew higher up, and several other, less familiar grains, not in the books Sturgeon had shown him. Various types of trees grew throughout the island—some, doubtless fruit trees, grew arranged in rows, other, doubtless wild trees, grew in isolation, or occasionally clustered in groups. Most of the vegetables and fruit trees were in flower, and the air was filled with battling scents.

It was an odd, sharp counterpoint to his recent memories of fighting. At one side of the island—the side he mistakenly approached first, was a little quaint house on the promontory. He turned around, heading the other way, away from the head of the snail, and towards the shell, where terraced housing rose in a conical shape, forming the heart of the city.

There was a great archway for the main entrance, and a path leading up the three tiers of the heart of the city, a spiral ring surrounding an old windmill, which was in truth a combination windmill-lighthouse. The old lighthouse had burnt out its fire years ago, but still functioned otherwise. All it would have needed was a spark to set it once more lighting the night. The windmill only blew when the wind hit it the right way. Standing in one of the carriages for the Ferris wheel (the third function of the windmill), you could see for miles around, over the sea, over the city, with the view that the seagulls must be used to.

The buildings had been designed to open onto the spiral ramp leading up the outside, facing in towards the windmill-Ferris-wheel-lighthouse. There were three storeys, each built on top of the other. Beside the entrance was the apothecary, and then next him was the lowest storey of the house of the wealthiest man in town. Thanks to the lay of the town—which had been designed on a grid, and built all at once, added onto as needed—people sometimes owned a certain room, but not the rooms above or beneath. This was the case of the richest man in town, a man named Solvo, who owned land above Gillian's Café, but she owned the second storey, with the first standing vacant. A northman was eyeing this area hopefully, thinking of turning it into Windfall's first open-air shop. His name was Zunari, and he had an eye for business, and understood why Gillian had bought the space she had.

Next to Gillian's Café, a one-and-a-half storey arch in the wall led out to a three-way path. Straight ahead led to the graveyard, and to the left was a second path around the outside of the walls, which led also to City Hall, and the prison. To the right of the archway, a set of steps led down to the docks, a secondary port closer to town than the harbour, which was beside the fields. In short, it was the most used entryway to the city, though not the one Link used this time.

He spent some time wandering around Windfall, knowing that it was better to be thorough now, and perhaps spend a bit too much time, than die before he could rescue Aryll. He knew that, if he were completely honest to himself, he was hoping to find his grandfather, but the sheer scope of the Island soon began to wear him out. He visited a baker and a butcher, and a miller, wondering as he did what sort of food people brought with them while traveling, and, at last, finding a shop with rations for sailors.

No matter where he looked—even, in desperation, visiting a tailor—he could not find a sail, nor anything that would serve for one.

He did find a schoolteacher, who seemed to have an uncanny ability to sense the joy pendants, as the butterfly pendants were called. She wasted a surprising amount of time, talking to him about the lucky joy pendants, and bokoblins, which came in several varieties: black, pink, green, with different skills for each colour. The prevailing wisdom said that they were joy pendants, turned into monsters by magic, which reverted to the true form when "slain". Link privately disagreed, suspecting that if that were the case, they would all leave joy pendants behind when defeated.

The teacher, Mrs. Marie, took a pendant without asking, on account of today being her birthday (or, she admitted, close enough it), and, informing him that she would give him something truly worth his while if he returned with twenty joy pendants, sent him off.

Link at last, affected by the melancholy, perhaps, of the man sitting on the steps near the entryway to the city, wandered back down the city walk, pondering what should be done for a sail. He could think of nothing else for it but to go back to the King of Red Lions (and surely that boat had a shorter name!) and to report his failure.

Zunari's store caught his eye—it was a variety store, meaning that it sold predominantly decorative items—but he was intrigued by its bizarre owner, who wore a heavy coat lined with fur, wondering whence the man hailed.

On the way down the spiraling path, he walked past a house with a mounted image of a telescope or pictobox upon it. He had heard of pictoboxes even on Outset—a sort of telescope for storing and preserving images, and he recalled Aryll's enthusiasm for the idea. But, there was no good reason to go to such a place now. Perhaps after Aryll was rescued, and safely home, he could return.

For now, he continued on down the dirt-packed main square (or circle, rather), heading to the Northman's shop.

It was an indoor shop, for now, unlit and a bit gloomy. Link saw how the man wanted for funding, and admired, in a way, how easily the man pushed aside his own troubling situation to greet a potential customer.

"Hello, my dear friend, and welcome, welcome to my humble shop! Although it is not a shop quite yet, per se, is it? Oh, dear me, no! I am still saving up money to turn this into a truly admirable shop, but I'm still lacking in funds. You see, a few years ago, I set sail from my home in the north, looking to make my own way by opening a shop somewhere marvelous and beautiful, somewhere that would truly appreciate my talents. But, I was caught in a horrid storm, and lost most of the belongings I brought with me. All except the very last thing I brought with me to sell. Although they live on an island, the villagers seem to have little use for such a thing—I am quite surprised, but no one has been willing to buy it. And, for all its great quality, how well it weathered the storm, none of them have shown the slightest interest.

"But, you look like a man who knows a bargain. What do you think? Will you buy it from me? You seem like a seagoing man, and without it, I think you'll find it difficult to sail the seas. Despite its high quality, I am willing to part with it for a meagre seventy rupees! What a bargain! How exciting! What do you say?!"

Link paused. He was sure that the man, Zunari, was deliberately hiding what was being sold, doubtless hoping to increase the appeal for impulsive buyers and the curious. He couldn't readily justify just spending seventy rupees on something he didn't know what it was, but, at the same time, there were hints that maybe, just maybe, he had at last found what he was looking for. How many necessities did a ship have, after all? The King of Red Lions made it sound as if the only parts of a ship were the wooden area and the rigging (both of which each ship had as a necessity, as without which they could not be considered ships), and a sail. The pirate ship had been more complex, true, bur Zunari had no reason to assume that a boy coming into his shop owned a huge ship, and would likely assume that, if he owned one at all, it was a small, single-man crew vessel, like the shop ship that sometimes visited Outset.

But, that was assuming that Zunari assumed that he had a ship, which was conveniently missing an integral part. Wouldn't it be more obvious to assume that Link had no ship at all? Perhaps, that was what Zunari was selling—a boat. But, if that were the case, seventy rupees was more than a fair price. He had spent a small fortune already on food (at least fifty rupees) and wood was never not in demand in a city, where it could be used for construction, firewood, or furniture, among many other, more creative uses that didn't jump to mind.

Sail or boat, Zunari's offer looked good.

He pulled out three red rupees, and a yellow, wordlessly offering it to Zunari.

"Let me see it first," he said, closing his fist.

And, Zunari pulled out a seemingly square piece of cloth, with some design on it, going on as he did about the quality of the cloth, how good a deal this was, what a bargain. Link handed over the rupees and took the cloth.

"Ah, what a good choice, my dear! This is a northern sail, and my people make the finest sails in the world!"

Link hoped desperately he wasn't merely showing himself to be incredibly gullible, and that paying seventy rupees for a sail was reasonable.

With a soft, meaningless word to Zunari—something to the effect of "thank you", or "goodbye", or "whatever", Link folded the cloth up in his arms and walked back out of Zunari's store.

After a brief lesson from the boat himself on using a mast—taking down the sail, putting up the sail, adjusting the direction they were heading, and an admonition to pay attention to currents and the direction of the wind, Link and the King of Red Lions set out, heading east in silence. At the time, he did not find it suspicious that east was the direction in which they needed to head, and east was the direction of the wind. He was, however, somewhat surprised that he could tell, despite the weakness of the breeze, just which direction the wind blew in.

They traveled in utter silence, which surprised Link rather, as he had expected the King of Red Lions to keep up a constant conversation, asking questions to which Link didn't have the answers, or wouldn't be willing to give them. Or, perhaps, the boat would have gone on, again, about himself. (Link thought it rude not to use a masculine pronoun for a king; the pronoun "it" would sound as if the boat had no mind or feelings, which was plainly not the case.)

Instead, all around there was nothing but the crash of waves, and the cries of gulls, and the flapping of the sail. For a few hours, it had been very exciting. But then, mindful of the fact that he had been unconscious for most of the King of Red Lion's journey to Windfall, he fell asleep, certain that he would wake if anything of consequence happened.

The King of Red Lions let him sleep.

Towards noon of the next day, another, taller island came into sight, smaller in perimeter, but taller by far than Windfall. He stared at the island, which was strikingly beautiful, if imposing. It was covered in cliffs and ledges, he could tell even from a distance, but there was no sign of habitation that he could see.

The boat pulled up next the shore, almost within jumping distance of a pond. A series of natural platforms led up the cliff, up to a height where a tall cliff, inaccessible on account of giant boulders, blocked the way.

And all around were mysterious blue spherical objects—the fruits or flowers of plants, he soon realised—and they grew in the greener areas, looking somehow familiar. He would swear that he had seen these flowers before. Somewhere.

Before he could give too much thought to them, the King of Red Lions broke into his musings.

"This is Dragon Roost Island, home of the ritos," he said, something like pride in his voice. Link, for his part, remembered Quill, and the man's offer of aid. "They are a race that rose up in the wake of the Great Flood, and now live high on clifftops, when before, it is said, they lived underwater. You would know them best as the postmen, who unfailingly deliver to you your mail. They are led by their chieftain, a strong leader, and a wise man. His name is unknown to me; I have had little traffic with ritos, over the years. I do know, however, that he is a benevolent ruler, and just. I'm sure he will be willing to help us.

"The ritos are, further, guided by their benefactor, the sky spirit known as Valoo. Perhaps you saw him, as we approached, sitting in a nest at the very pinnacle of the island. I am unsure who possesses the object you must acquire, but, when last I had any news of the island, it was still in the possession of the sky spirit, Valoo.

"The object you must acquire from him is a relic of great power known as Din's Pearl. It is a symbol of power and might, a hallmark of great rulers. They will doubtless not part with it lightly. Speak to the chieftain, and I am sure that he will help you."

Link stood, leapt from the boat, and was just about to head up the hill when the boat spoke again.

"Wait one moment more. I have something for you."

He reached back, and his jaws strained to close on something that hadn't been there before. He then threw the something, which Link saw first as a small white stick. He caught it, and stared. It tapered to a dull point on one side, and the other curved with exquisite decoration. Link stared at it, and then back to the King of Red Lions.

"This is the Wind Waker, an old relic of the forgotten kingdom. In the old days, the people used to use this baton to guide their prayers to the gods. It is a conductor's baton, however, and, forgive me if I jump to conclusions, but you are not musically trained. Perhaps, however, you could learn. Pay attention."

And the King of Red Lions explained how to use the baton. It was a complicated process, involving Link's dominant left hand being used to guide the notes of the melody, and the right one guiding the time signature. Four four time was expected without guidance, but three-four and six-four times required pointing to left and right.

Pointing in one of six different directions with his left hand instructed the wind on what note to hum. It was a lot to remember.

When the King of Red Lions had checked to make sure that he knew and remembered all of the instructions on how to use the conductor's baton, he explained why he had given the thing to Link to begin with.

"It is said that, in the back of this island, there is a shrine to two of the wind gods. Before we depart from this place, you would do well to seek their favour at the shrine. The baton, the Wind Waker, will come in useful for this. Now, go and acquire Din's Pearl!"

With his usual drama, the King of Red Lions sent Link off. Link wondered, briefly, if the boat wouldn't merely forsake him, leaving him here to go about his business, but reassured himself swiftly that this was merely anxiety at the quest before him at work.

Now, he set himself to trying to find a way to the top of the cliff, which, as he could see from the shore, had a door set into the hillside leading up.

Unfortunately, there were huge boulders all around. But, there was something about those flowers….

He knew what they reminded him of. He had seen some of these very flowers aboard the pirate ship. Niko had told him that they were loaded into the canons, because they were explosive. They were cured, somehow, when they were picked, lest they explode prematurely, but the untreated flower would naturally begin to burn at the stem of the flowers, until the stem was used up, and it reached the flower itself, whereupon it would explode.

It was not that confusing of an idea.

He picked up a flower, snapping off the stem, and a hissing noise filled the air. He threw the bomb flower at a rock, and it landed nearby. He watched as the stem burnt down, and then the bomb flower exploded.

The boulder exploded too. Beneath it, someone's ten-rupee piece had been lost, presumably for as long as the boulder had been there. He picked up the money, and found the next nearest bomb flower.

He changed his mind about the ten-rupee piece being someone's money when he found a ten-rupee piece under the next boulder, and the next, and the next. Instead, he suspected that it was an organically made rupee lodged in a matrix of boulder. This was something of a relief to his conscience.

He continued, making his way to the cliff, which was broken in half, with the two halves connected by a strange-looking decorated block.

At the other end of the doorway, he saw a familiar looking rito, standing by a balcony surrounded by a wooden rail. The rito had long white hair, swept back in an updo, and cornrow bangs framing his face. Link had only ever met one rito before, and had no way of knowing how similar they looked to one another, or whether or not Quill's hairstyle was unique, or quite common. Nevertheless, he thought he might take a chance, of addressing this one by his name.

The rito turned as he approached, almost as if sensing him, and briefly leant backwards, as if taken aback.

"You have traveled far for one with no wings," said the rito who was probably Quill. "Welcome, Link, to Dragon Roost Island, the home of us ritos. Have you rescued your sister, yet?"

At this, Link hung his head, and turned away, unable to speak for shame. Quill understood.

"I see. Then, I will remind you of my offer before. The chieftain is a good man, of great compassion. I am sure that he will be willing to help you. I will go before you and prepare them for your arrival."

He began to flap his wings, which appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Thank you, Quill," Link said, with a bow, and Quill took off, flying past a wooden path hugging the side of the mountain, over the sea surprisingly far below, and to a slightly more elevated second balcony, this one, as with the path connecting the two balconies, surrounded by a wooden rail. There must have been a door hidden from sight, because Quill walked towards the mountain, and entered it.

Link hastened to follow, wary of the sturdy-sounding, but worn-out looking, wooden boards of the path. He wished, again quite vainly, that he were able to fly.

At the other balcony, set into the rock of the mountain, was another archway. Link wondered if there were a hidden door, somewhere in the rock, or how they dealt with inclement weather, or the threat of attack, if there weren't.

He didn't know that, in times of war, the blocks of the cliff were jammed into the wall to hinder groundbound invaders. Then, too, there were doors hidden in the walls of the mountain, walls for each of its many entrances, but, as the main occupation of the ritos was as postmen, the constant traffic encouraged them to keep the doors constantly open.

He entered a tall chamber, with a spiral ramp heading around the edge of the room, leading to a front desk, and the post office. There was also a storage room up there, and a door that led to the chieftain's quarters, and the two bickering brother guards, Skett and Akoot, whom he would meet presently, and a guard named Hokit, whom Link also would meet soon.

But, for now, he focused on the lower storey, where Quill seemed to be arguing with another rito, one with white hair smoothed down to the top of his head, and falling in ringlets on all sides, except over his face. This rito was very distinctive, wearing a long red robe, with gold embroidery, and green sleeves. There was an air of stern authority to the man.

Link wondered what argument he had interrupted, but heard only a few sentences which made no sense to him, before they realised that he had arrived.

"—but I promised Link Sylvanus that we would help him rescue his sister," said Quill, sounding agitated. The man who must be the rito chieftain responded,

"I'm sorry, Quill, but with the Great Valoo angry, appeasing him must be our first concern. Medli might be able to discern what it is that has angered him, but she is a child, and may be one of the last to receive Valoo's blessing. I cannot risk the life of his attendant. And, Komali grows difficult. This was to be such an exciting time for him, before this happened. It's far too dangerous as it is, and there is little we can afford to give in the way of help…."

And here, they seemed to realise that he was there, listening to them.

"My lord, this is Link Sylvanus, whom I told you about," Quill said, bowing to the chieftain.

"Link, I'm sorry you had to hear that. As you heard, we cannot help you. There is quite a crisis going on for us right now. We depend upon Valoo to give us the ability to fly, but he is now angry, and the winds are behaving erratically as a result, and boulders falling from the sky, both of these making wind travel difficult. As long as this is the case, the entire island, and our very way of life, is in danger. Please understand that this must be our priority."

Link found himself moved by pity at the plight of the people around him, especially thinking of the generosity of Quill, who had so earnestly defended him and offered aid.

"Is there anything I could do to help?" he asked. The Pearl was not what he was thinking about. That could wait, but these people might die if something did not happen soon, and any little thing that he could do to help was something someone else didn't have to. Maybe, then, the ritos could focus on the problem at hand.

The rito chieftain hesitated, and sighed.

"Such a generous lad. I regret that we cannot help you, but please, hear my story before embroiling yourself in the difficulties of our affairs.

"We ritos are able to fly only because of the generous gift, when each of us reaches adulthood, of a scale from the great sky god Valoo. The Great Valoo is an ancient dragon who has lived on the top of this mountain for as long as anyone can remember, and he is both wise and patient. He has protected our race for as long as we have been around, giving us these scales, which imbue us with the magic to grow wings, and to carry ourselves on the winds. It is the only way we would be able to.

"I have only one son, my heir, Prince Komali, who is of the age to receive his wings. Indeed, it should have happened already. But, a couple of days before Komali's birthday, the Great Valoo roared with a terrible rage, and the winds began to act erratically, and boulders to fall from the skies, burning hot and covered in flame. The lakebed that supports the bomb flowers beyond yonder doorway dried up, its spring plugged with one such boulder, and the heat of the volcano within our mountain dried it up. The bridge, too, was broken, and there is now no way for one with no wings to enter the Cavern with the path leading to Valoo. A child with no wings could not hope to even enter the Cavern. Naturally, we have done everything we can think of to restore access, but it is a very dangerous area, and the unpredictable wind currents make it more hazardous still. This may be the end of the rito way of life, and indeed the end of our entire race.

"Komali does not see this, trapped as he is in his own misery. Compounding the problem is the recent death of his grandmother, my mother-in-law, the attendant of the great Valoo before Medli, who taught her to understand what he says. Medli, a child herself, is now the only one able to understand him, but I will not risk her life until it is clear that there is no other option. But, you see the situation that this has left Komali in."

The rito chieftain sighed heavily, and Link pitied the man, who seemed overwhelmed by the many conflicting forces at work upon his people. He pondered if the chieftain would ask him to enter the Cavern and see what he could learn, but then, quickly, dismissed the idea. He was unwilling to risk the life of children before he must. Doubtless, this even applied to would-be heroes. Then, what did the chieftain want from him? The answer was disappointing.

"Quill has told me of your great courage in your current venture. I know that it is quite a lot to ask of you, but would you speak with and reassure Komali? I have done what I can, but I am very busy with this crisis, and am not there for him as much as I would like. There are very few children around his age in whom he could confide, and he has always been…a bit weak-spirited, shall we say. Please, Link, will you share your courage with my son?"

Link was touched by what he had heard, and moved to pity and sympathy. His coming-of-age ceremony, too, had been ruined, and perhaps their similarities in stories would reassure Komali that the entire venture was not necessarily lost. He bowed.

"I would be honoured to assist your son," he said, as formally as he could manage, and the rito chieftain gave a weary sigh, while Quill gave Link a nod of approval. Link had almost forgotten Quill was still there, and still listening.

"Then please, give the letter I have written to him. The girl, Medli, will give it to you. You will find her in my quarters, in half an hour. She is quite distinctive, as few female ritos live on this island, and she, like Komali, is about your age—not to speak of her hair. And, you will want this," he added, handing over a cloth messenger bag before Link could ask what, exactly, was so special about Medli's hair. Link took the bag, and then opened his mouth to speak, but the chieftain beat him to it. "I know that we have little hospitality to offer you, as befits a guest, but feel free to look about this island. Perhaps, you will see some sign of hope that we have missed."

With that, the rito chieftain beat his wings, lifting off the packed dirt floor, and flying to the second-storey room that Link realised must belong to him. Quill came over to put a hand upon Link's shoulder, in apology and solidarity, he was sure.

"It is good of you to offer us assistance even when we cannot do the same for you. I will prevail upon the chieftain, to see if he can't spare a little time to hear your tale."

And with a bow, Quill followed the chieftain to the second-storey room.

Link found himself contemplating what connection the chieftain and Quill had. They seemed to speak and behave informally around one another, and had similar faces, and even hairstyles. It might be nothing, of course, or Quill might be the chieftain's brother, and therefore a sort of prince, and Komali's uncle. Link weighed the plausibility versus the implausibility of a mailman-prince as he wandered the mountain structure, idly looking for a way to occupy his half-hour.

He soon learnt that the prince had his suites down in at the end of a twisting hallway below the room he had first entered. There were a few other suites, branching off this one, for the other children of a king, but the only son, and prince, had the suites behind the door that lay at the very end of the hall.

Link did not trouble himself with going all the way down there. Instead, he walked up the ramp, passing helpful postal workers as he did, noticing that the doors to the chieftain's suites were right of the doors at the top of the curving ramp, by which Link had entered.

Up ahead, at a second entrance, an inattentive guard muttered under his breath about golden feathers, and how he was going to get some for his girlfriend. Link wondered how good of a guard the man could be, driven to such distraction.

This guard, Hokit, kept watch over the door leading to the dried-up lake.

Not much further beyond him, at the end of the path, was a desk, behind which stood a rito wearing the same brown uniform as Quill, as far as Link could tell before the desk hid it from view. He had a square face, messy white hair, and tired, half-closed red eyes. Behind him was a series of boxes with letters in them, arranged next to and on top of one another in a lattice, each with a tiny image in the centre of the bottom of the lip of the box, and the same symbol above, much larger, in the shadowy recesses of the back. Two piles of letter stood before him, one without labels, but the other showed that he was in the process of placing seals with just the same images upon the letters.

Link was beginning to realise that all ritos seemed to have the same hair, with its tendency to be put into cornrows, and the same red eyes, but the shapes of eyes, faces, beaks, and mouths varied as much as with any human.

He noted, somewhere, that Quill looked quite similar to the rito chieftain, at least compared to the man before him.

Beyond the main desk, the path ended in a storage room, the centre of operations. A quick glance within showed that it was filled with letters, and boxes of what he presumed to be more letters. He began to marvel that any of his own had ever arrived in a timely manner. Did people send that much mail?

Link considered going back down the ramp, after this, tiptoeing past the tired-looking rito stamping letters lest he distract him, but when he came to the door guarded by Hokit, the rito devoted to collecting twenty golden feathers to give to his girlfriend, he hesitated. He was sure that he could get past without the guard knowing about it, and he was curious as to the true state of affairs of the rito chiefdom.

He took care to listen for signs that the rito was aware of his passage as he crept down the corridor leading to outside.

Here, Link at last understood what the chieftain had said. Scorching embers mercilessly blasted against him, and he wondered that his clothes didn't catch fire. By watching the paths of the embers, he could see that the wind never blew in the same direction for more than a few seconds before changing direction. North, west, south, east, south, east, north. Never before had he been able to track the progress of the wind with such ease, with just his eyes.

He fingered the baton that the King of Red Lions had given to him, drawing it out of his pocket, unthinking, wondering if the voices he had thought that he had conducted when the King of Red Lions had instructed him would even listen out here. At length, he put the baton into his messenger bag, and then rolled the bag up to protect it from damage, before shoving it into his pocket, with the joy pendants.

Looking to his left, he saw several dried-up bomb flowers. Apparently, not even such hardy flowers as these could stand the heat of the embers, the scorching wind that beat punishingly against Link's clothes, and, sometimes, the bare skin of his face. He walked the short path to the bridge that had once provided a way for the wingless to reach the Cavern. The boulder caught his eyes as he went. Leaning over to examine it more closely, he noticed that it was very smooth, almost artificial looking, and that it was lying in a pool of what water was able to seep up into the impact crater. He wondered if the bomb flowers were too dried up to save.

Between the two sides of the once-bridge were the ropes and slats still hanging down into what would once have been an impressive lake. Link noticed a rock, fairly sturdy, but too far away for him to jump from it to the other side of the broken bridge. He wondered why he didn't see any ritos around, coming or going from the maw of a cave, over beyond the fire pit with two temple statues holding up bowls of offerings, and slightly healthier looking bomb flowers.

At length, having gone over every plan he could think of, he went back inside.

By now, it must have been at least half an hour. He crept past the guard, who was no longer muttering about feathers, and whose nod in his direction suggested Link hadn't been quite as sneaky as he'd hoped,

For the first time, he entered the chieftain's personal quarters, which was guarded by two ritos with updos, wearing white robes with green cuffs. This was the entrance room to the chieftain's suites, and was sparsely furnished. He appeared to be using it as some sort of office. There was a desk, and a chair, and a few cupboards, and the occasional decorative statue, or picture, but that was all.

Standing near the desk, in the middle of the room, where she would be hard to miss, was a girl with long red hair—almost chestnut brown, almost auburn, but still obviously red— wearing a black dress, with a red stole, and a red decorative cloth hanging down, embroidered in gold. If it weren't for the talons she had for feet, and her bright red eyes, and the curved beak of a nose, he would not have thought her a rito.

She turned to face him as he approached, but waited until he was before her to do anything else.

"Hello," she said, "are you Link?"

Her tone was distracted, as if she were thinking about something else, something far more important than mere pleasantries of introductions.

Link nodded, saying, "That I am. And, you must be Medli."

There was a moment's silence, and then Link continued, trying not to sound impatient, "The chieftain said that you had a letter for me to give to his son."

At this, Medli clasped her hands together, holding them at her sides in an awkward position, looking down. She didn't seem to be injured, so perhaps she was just shy.

"Before I give the letter to you," she said, still looking down, "I wanted to ask you a favour." Now, she raised clasped hands up towards her face as if in an attitude of prayer. "Would you meet me down in the dry lakebed, you know—the one at the end of the passage guarded by the man always talking of golden feathers?"

"I know what place you mean," said Link, slowly. "But, why—?"

"There's no time, and this isn't the place to talk about it! Please, just meet me there after you speak with Komali." She leant in closer to him, forcing him to rethink the idea that she were merely shy, and whispered. "I have a plan that might help Prince Komali, but the chieftain would never approve."

Somewhere in his mind, he registered that she had called Komali by his name, without a title, as if a slip of the tongue. Was she a very close friend of the prince, perhaps? Link was beginning to feel nervous about his upcoming task.

"I don't know how long this will take," he began, and held up his hand to forestall her interruption, "but I promise that I will come. Give me an hour, at least."

Medli handed over the letter, with a bow and profuse expression of thanks, and Link smiled.

"Anything I can do to help," he said, attempting to be reassuring.

He turned to go, and Medli held up a hand, waving at him, and said, "Komali's room is—"

"At the end of the hall, at the bottom of the stairs leading down. I know. But, thank you, Medli."

"No—thank you," said Medli, in a whisper, as he left. His sharp ears still caught her words, however, and he smiled. At least he might be able to help someone today.

But, Komali would not be placated. After a while of looking into several other lavishly furnished rooms of Komali's suites, each with the same strange design of three round circles arranged on a triangle, with something like a stylised tree forming a border around them (so different from the triple triangles of Outset) he finally found the prince.

Link opened the door to Komali's bedroom, to be greeted by a scowl from the boy sitting on the vast bed. He had a glimpse of round red eyes narrowed in suspicion, and hair arranged much like the chieftain's, before the boy twisted his entire body away, hugging some bright orange orb close as he did, as if Link were not permitted even to catch sight of it.

Link, for his part, was a bit offended, but mostly confused. Perhaps it was the chieftain's ignorance of human anatomy versus rito anatomy, but he doubted Komali and he were anything like the same age. Komali was much shorter, and smaller, even in his white tunic. (Didn't Grandma say that white made rooms look bigger? Wasn't it the same for people?)

The bright orange orb immediately caught the eyes, both for its striking colour and the unfortunate teal lining of Komali's tunic creating a sharp contrast. Komali was sitting huddled over the orb, which he had moved to his right side to take it even further out of sight. He looked, and acted, rather like a petulant preteen. Like Aryll, perhaps, on one of her bad days.

Thoughts of his sister, and his quest, softened the set of Link's face. He realised that he hadn't knocked, or given the prince any reason not to fear him. So what if Komali were only about Aryll's age? He knew her mind, and remembered well enough how being ten or twelve had been.

"I'm sorry. I should have knocked. Your father sent me with a message for you. I'm Link, by the way."

Komali didn't respond, unless it were the expectant hand, reaching for the letter. Link hastened to dig into the messenger bag, wondering how Komali could read a message and support the mysterious orb at the same time.

Link could see the corners of Komali's mouth turn down into a deep pouting frown even before the letter, sealed in its pristine ivory envelope, was in his hands.

"Don't look at the Pearl. It's a gift from my grandmother. She gave it to me to look after, and I'm not letting some stranger just walk in and look at it. It's all I have of hers."

Link wanted to say that he understood, but correctly suspected that that would not be taken well by Prince Komali. He averted his eyes as best he could, onto his boots.

He felt Komali's watchful eyes remain on him for a moment, before Komali tore open the letter, and his eyes began to skim over the words of the page. Link waited, his patience beginning to fray, watching Komali's frown deepen, his eyes narrow, the glare become prominent on his face. At length, he threw the letter to the side, and Link couldn't stand back and watch anymore.

"That's quite rude, you know," he began, but Komali was having none of it.

"Says the boy who entered the private quarters of a royal without bothering to knock. You'd be angry, too. 'Be strong', he says. 'Be brave', he says. 'A true ruler must face hardship without complaint, with courage'. And then, you're mentioned, too. He talks about how brave you are, how noble your quest is. But, I don't see a brave man. I see a weakling who hasn't even proven himself yet. He doesn't know what he can do. How do you think it is for me, that my father likes you, a stranger he's just met, that he thinks better of you than his own son?"

Link had been keeping quiet, thinking it best to let Prince Komali rant, but this was entering dangerous territory. "He doesn't like me better—"

"Then why did he give the letter to you? Couldn't even take time out of his busy schedule to come speak to me himself, could he? No, the only comfort I have is the Pearl. That's what I look to for comfort and strength. Where's my father, who would be my guide? He's not there! Gone! Well, at least I'm talking to you, as he asked!"

Link noted that Komali again used the word, "Pearl", to describe the orange ball he had been holding, and wondered…. Could it be?

"You know, your father does love you," he said, trying to keep calm and civil, knowing that yelling would only make things worse, and Grandma had raised him to be polite, after all. "And, that is why he is too busy to see you right now. He's working hard to solve the crisis at hand, to help you. You are at the forefront of his thoughts. You're lucky. I wish my father had been around, even to give me letters."

A twinge of something flickered across Komali's face. For just a second, the narrowed eyes widened, the mouth opened, the jaw slacked, but then he was back to his glare as if it had never gone.

"Lucky?" repeated Komali. But, he seemed to have cooled down, a little. "My grandmother was the best woman in the world. She was the attendant of Valoo and Din, spoke the old language fluently, and even won the birdman competitions once or twice. It was really hard, losing her. But, when I hold this Pearl, I remember how strong and brave she was, and it helps me try to be more like her. But, me just bearing through it with resolve isn't going to open the path to Dragon Roost Cavern. Father says you're so brave. Well, I'll tell you what. You find me someone brave enough to enter the Cavern and do something about the problem, and I'll consider listening to you then."

Link was barely listening. The words "Din" and "Pearl" were connecting in his mind, and he bit back a smile that wanted to be a bitter laugh. All along, it had been Komali's goodwill he had needed, not the chieftain's. But, how could he ever convince Komali to give up so precious of a memento?

"Look, Komali," he said, trying to shove thoughts of the Pearl aside. "I know how tough it is to lose those you care about. I barely had a chance to know my parents, never knew my grandfathers, and my sister Aryll was recently kidnapped, which is why I came here to begin with, seeking after Din's Pearl…."

"'Din's Pearl', eh?" said Komali, a shrewd look entering his narrowed eyes. Link hadn't meant to say that. "I tell you what: maybe I can find the Pearl for you if you find someone who can reopen the passage."

Link didn't know how he could possibly get up to the cliff that led to the entrance to the Cavern, nor how he might prevail upon Valoo to cease from his anger, but he still resolved to be the one to answer Komali's challenge.

If he could just get into the Cavern, he felt strangely assured that he would be able to handle whatever dangers it might hold. The ropes and slats of the bridge hung down into the dried up lakebed. But, it had broken such that there was more of the bridge in the near cliff than the far one. Perhaps, if he jumped, as high as he could, he could reach some of the bottommost rungs. It did not seem plausible.

Still, he held the idea out as his only means thus far of getting to the Cavern. Perhaps, he ought to ask some of the rito for advice, but he could think of no way to do this without the risk of them figuring out his intentions. Would any of them willingly go against the chieftain's orders?

"Komali," he said, carefully, "I would be willing to go myself, but I don't know how."

Komali barely responded at all. After all, talk was cheap. Link could say whatever he would, but until Komali saw that he would put meaningful actions to his words, Komali would disbelieve him.

"Perhaps, you understand why I'm so upset now?" he asked, still holding the Pearl out of Link's sight. Link sighed; he'd known all along how Komali felt, but there was no convincing the rito prince of that. He was determined to suffer on his own.

There passed a few minutes of awkward silence, the challenge clearly hanging in the air of the room with them. Link thought with furious fervour, trying to find a way to force Komali to see reason, some way to get him to listen. But, he could think of nothing, and as time passed, he became more and more aware of Medli, waiting outside for him.

He left, with a bow and a smile to the rito prince. Komali did not return any sort of gesture or word.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: The Meaning of Courage

He made his way, past all of the fancy wooden furniture in the suites, and then through long and twisted corridors, and thence, through confusing corridors to get to the hall that led to the stairs. He climbed the shallow main staircase, with its steps extended over a distance. Then, he walked along the right side of the ramp, as there was a mailman walking down the outer edge. At the top of the ramp, he again noticed Hokit, muttering to himself about feathers. Link already knew that there was no sense in trying to sneak past, and decided to try a different tack.

"Hello," he said, interrupting the rito's mutterings with a fake smile, hands on his hip as he watched the rito lift his head from where it was bowed in thought. "My name is Link Sylvanus, and although I came here in the hopes of a solution to a problem of my own, I couldn't help overhearing that you have a problem."

"Hokit, here," the guard said, and, for reasons Link couldn't begin to guess at, he straightened, and raised a hand as if to salute, before thinking better of it. "And, well, yes, I do have a bit of a problem. You see, my girlfriend, in the Seven Star Archipelago, well, she's a real trendsetter, you know.

"Anyway, there are these birds called kargarocs all over the Great Sea, but they like the archipelagos. They're pretty big birds, half the size of a human, maybe, and they're mostly black, with white-tipped wings, and golden tail feathers. And those feathers… man, my girlfriend found one of those on the beach one time, and now she wants to make something out of a bunch of them, says it will be a new fashion trend in no time, but she needs a whole bunch of those feathers. Kargarocs are around here, too, but I'm on indoor guard duty when they're around. She wrote me, 'cause she knows my job, asking if I couldn't get her some, and if I don't she'll think I'm a loser or a liar, y'know? The kargarocs are only out in the middle of the day, and they perch high up, and I'm stuck in here. It's quite the dilemma."

Link listened intently, thinking about the situation, and understanding the guard's frustration. What else was there to do, as an indoor guard, but stand and worry the problem around in his mind all day?

Valoo, he remembered, lived high up. He wondered if he mightn't encounter kargarocs, if he ever enter the Cavern, and make his ascent. And, hadn't Medli said that she had a plan?

"That's pretty tough," Link agreed. But, before Hokit could jump in with a pointless comment—he was leaning forwards to make just such a comment; it was a very, I know, right kind of a look—Link said,

"Look. I'm going to be traveling all over the Great Sea as part of the quest that brought me here. How about I keep an eye out for those feathers for you, and bring them back when I find them, or gather enough?"

The rito looked momentarily stunned, running his hands through his white updo. "Really? You'd do all that to help me? Quill was right; you're alright. Okay, kid! If you find enough feathers for my girlfriend, I'll find some way to pay you for them. Y'got that? Of course, I'll believe it when I see that you've actually got some, but it's nice to have a potential backup plan, at the very least."

Link nodded, trying not to be irritated at the man's lack of faith in him, just like Komali's. Komali was right. That was the worst part. These people had no reason to believe in him. All he'd done thus far was fail.

Then I must fix that fact, he told himself firmly as he walked down the corridor, into bright sunlit still dimmed through a haze of embers. He remembered Medli's bare skin and winced. How tough was the humanoid skin of a rito?

Worse, when he climbed down the makeshift ladder rungs formed by the planks of the bridge, he found Medli in the open, standing on the strange rock jutting out of the lakebed floor, roughly halfway between the two halves of the bridge. She turned when he approached, as she had in the chieftain's room, but she didn't seem horribly burnt, or in a great amount of pain. He assumed that a people living near a volcano might have some natural defences from heat, and let the matter rest.

"You did come," said Medli, clasping her hands in front of her again, in an awkward sort of position that made it clear how uncomfortable the situation was for her. Link wondered how he could help her, but couldn't think of anything, since he didn't know exactly what was wrong. Probably, she was worried about being caught, outside, in the space that the chieftain had decided that it was too dangerous for a child to go to. Or, since Medli was considered an adult, a place too dangerous for the attendant of Valoo to go to.

"How was Komali?" she asked next, her attention suddenly riveted upon Link, as she leant forwards, ignoring any embers that made contact with her skin as she did. "Was he alright?"

Link hesitated, wondering how he ought to respond, and Medli slumped.

"Well, er, he didn't seem injured," Link said, and wished that he could split himself in two. He would do it if only so that he could raise an incredulous eyebrow in his own direction. He knew full well what Medli meant, and knew that Medli knew that he knew. What then was achieved with such a cautious, worthless reply? She deserved better, surely, this brave woman who was the only one on the Island to dare to take the initiative. "It's just… I think he feels a bit overwhelmed, and very sad, and the two put together…."

What ensued was an attempt to explain just how Komali had acted, in an unbiased way that allowed Medli to feel that she decided on her own how Komali was doing.

"Oh dear," she said, most awkwardly, playing with her hands, near her face, she clasped them together, again, and began to wring them. "That doesn't sound like Komali at all. He's usually such a sweet, shy, boy. This must be so hard for him."

"Then, let's make it easier," Link swiftly continued, eager to avoid the topic of Komali, and what they might have spoken of.

Medli nodded, and her hands moved to the side (to her left), and came unclasped.

"I had a favour I wanted to ask of you," said Medli, again, setting her chin, as if what she were going to ask was very dangerous, and that was undeniably true, at the very least if she ended up visiting an angry dragon, to calm him down. "Do you see up there, ahead of us, the other side of the bridge? There is no way an ordinary man could get there. Luckily for us, my people know how to fly. I got my own wings a matter of months ago (about half a year), but I'm not that good of a flier yet. As the attendant of Valoo, I spend much of my time on remote cliffs, practising this harp, and studying the information Komali's grandmother taught me. I hope to learn it all by heart."

He wondered why the girl had brought what looked to be a delicate musical instrument with her, but didn't ask. Doubtless, she had sworn some sort of oath to never be parted from it. He glanced at the harp, noticing that it was a hand harp, with a brass face on it, but otherwise made of wood. It was probably about the size of her head, but somehow looked heavy. But for a delivery bag full of unknown objects and that harp, Medli carried nothing. She pulled it off her back when she mentioned it, and then swiftly put it back on her back afterwards. She was also speaking with great haste, as if she might otherwise lose her nerve.

"What I want you to do, is to pick me up, and throw me up onto that bridge. While I'm not a very good flier, I can maintain my altitude well enough that I could probably make it if you threw me while standing on top of this rock. It does seem rather providentially placed, don't you think?"

Link shrugged, noticing how much calmer Medli seemed, now that the burden of her plan had shifted onto him. She pulled out a jar of water, and drank from it. Link looked at the jar of water, and his eyes narrowed, already wondering just how hardy bomb flowers were, and how much water they needed.

"Are you sure? These winds are very strong and unpredictable. I might hurt you."

But, Medli set her jaw, and climbed to the top of the rock, crouching down. The bottle of water was still in her hand.

"I'm sure I couldn't hit the wall too hard," she said, trying too hard to reassure.

Link wanted to point out how much ire he risked receiving from the chieftain if he were caught, but Link was, at least, not a rito, and therefore not really subject to his laws. The chieftain's efforts to protect the few might end up killing their entire race, if nothing were done to fix things.

"If you wish for me to assist you in getting to the entrance of the Cavern, I have a favour I also wish to redeem. Please, if you have no pressing use for it, may I have one of your bottles of water?"

She gave him an odd sort of look, obviously wondering what use he would make of such an ordinary thing. But, empty bottles were a commodity it had never occurred to him to buy, especially as few things were packaged in them. He had nothing to put any water he might want to use for watering the bomb flowers in. She handed over the bottle, which was all of clear glass, as was usual with bottles, with a screw on lid.

Link formed a natural sort of seat by spreading apart his arms, and he scooped his arms under Medli, blushing again at the thought of how uncomfortable the idea of carrying a woman this way was, hoping he could be forgiven the offence to her dignity and the violation of her personal space. He watched the embers carefully, not trusting whatever sense he seemed to have for the direction of the wind, but instead trusting that Medli would be carried on the current in the same direction as the embers. When the embers were at his back, and none stung his face, he threw her, and ungainly, huge wings spread out from nowhere, flapping heavily to try to keep her airborne.

She glided over to the other side of the cliff, to the top of the bridge area, in safety, after she regained a good sense of control over her own body. When she safely had both of her betaloned feet on the floor, her wings seemed to shrink, and then to disappear. She turned around to face him again when they had gone, thanking him for his help, and urging him not to worry about her, but rather to look after Komali.

Instead, Link eyed the bottle of spring water. It was still mostly full, which would save him the time of filling it from the small pool of water around the rock blocking the spring. He stuffed the closed bottle into his pocket, along with the mailbag, pondering how little room those items seemed to take up as he did.

He climbed up the ladder, and, surreptitiously making sure the rito guard's back was still turned—although he couldn't see what crime might be in watering bomb flowers—he came over to the patch of bomb flowers near the door, analysing the texture and colour. They seemed a bit off-colour, but still with a lot of the soft moisture of healthy leaves. Not too dry, then. He poured out a bit of the water on each of the plants, and waited as it sank in.

To his surprise, there was an almost immediate difference. The shrunken, shriveled flowers expanded and smoothed, turning from purple to black, and the leaves regained a fiery red hue. Link, mindful of the fact that there might be more bomb flowers on the other side of the bridge, or else some other need for spring water, refilled his bottle, and reclimbed the makeshift ladder, snapping off a bomb flower at the stem, and carefully judging the angle that the bomb would have to hit, to reduce the boulder blocking the spring to so much rubble.

He let fly, knowing that he only had five chances at this, but his aim was dead on, and he belatedly ducked behind the fencepost to avoid any flying debris. There was none. The rock exploded, and the trapped water erupted from its prison, briefly bursting out a steady geyser that rained water down all around, soaking Link, and the bomb flowers on both sides of the cliff, and still more water bubbled up from the spring, even after the geyser subsided. It rushed back up into the empty lakebed, covering the rock on which Link had stood to throw Medli, rising until it rode high up the slats of the bridge. The slats now provided a reliable climb into and out of the pool. The plan had worked. Still, he was surprised about the explosive force of the water. He hoped he hadn't caught anyone's attention, and was glad that he had waited to enact his plan until Medli had entered the Cavern.

He swam easily across the lake, pulling himself out of the water on the other side to find a clump of bomb flowers which had recovered during the brief artificial rainstorm.

Then, before him was a patch of molten rock. Two statues, one on the left hand wall, the other on the right-hand wall, held bowls of offerings. He looked at the bomb, and then he looked at the altar. The bowl and bomb were of similar size. He wondered if, perhaps, this were not merely a part of the test that every wingless rito was made to endure.

He threw a bomb each into each of the two statues, which fell over when the bomb exploded, providing passage, of a sort, across the pool of molten rock. He continued along the narrow passage, until it opened up, before ending where the towering peak of a mountain blocked off any further path. But, set into that mountain was a square doorway. This was the entrance to the Dragon Roost Cavern.

Beyond the doorway, a huge room ended in a doorway hidden behind stacked blocks. Link would have wondered how Medli had made her way through, had he not seen that some blocks had, in fact, been pulled away from the hidden entrance, leaving it exposed. The entrance was tall enough that he was able to walk through it upright, and it was twice as tall as one of the blocks.

Beyond that antechamber, an even vaster room with three daises arranged in a triangle drew his attention. One of the three "points" of the triangle was raised higher than the other two, with steps leading onto it, the top landing flanked by two torches, and a doorway set into the wall where it met the dais. The other two platforms were not as interesting, bare and boring.

A number of bokoblins—at least three, all black—patrolled the room. Two of these stood guard, unmoving, near the tallest platform. Link drew sword and shield, and crept over to the third bokoblin first.

All three of them left behind joy pendants, which surprised Link. When the last one was defeated, iron bars Link hadn't noticed before lifted from the front of the door in the wall, and there was a sound of a lock disengaging.

Link reached over to open the second door.

Beyond this point was a truly enormous room. From where he stood, there was a door to the right, and on his left, a broken wooden walkway that he could still have sidled across if there hadn't been another boulder blocking the way. He looked for a bomb flower, and found it. But, he couldn't see past the boulder to whatever was beyond. Also directly before him was a wood-and-rope bridge, with rope handrails and supports, but guarded by a number of bokoblins—the black ones, wielding clubs.

He saw, flying above the rope bridge, and around the distant platform where the bridge connected to another rope bridge, a number of infernally orange flying things. They flew erratically, now closer, now further away, and as he watched them, one flew close enough to notice him, and he observed, as it dove, that it was a keese—he had heard of the bats before, for they lived on Outset, too—and the keese was on fire. The fire did not seem to be causing it any pain at all; it made a sound very like a laugh as it dove in for the kill, and Link drew the sword he had foolishly sheathed at the entrance, leaving his shield be, knowing it was of wood, and therefore a quite flammable family heirloom. He managed to slice through one of the wings, and, unbalanced, the keese fell towards the lava that was the floor of the room, far below. Even as it fell, it exploded in black smoke, just as the bokoblins did.

Link took out the telescope, now, from his pocket, where he had stored it inside the messenger bag. (And, how did he still have space in his pockets, after all the stuff he had already crammed in? How did it not fall out?) He looked about the Cavern, seeing doors on the far side of the chamber—one at the end of the second rope bridge, and another on the opposite side of the room, at the end of a platform whose other end lay with a mysterious structure resembling a rope cage, but the base was thicker, and could not possibly be of a flammable material like rope, for a fiery geyser periodically erupted underneath, hitting it full force. Down below, part of a pathway could be seen nearby.

There was nowhere to head, except for the door at the end of the rope bridge, which Link could see was locked, and therefore useless to him, and whatever lay beyond the boulder, past the thin ledge he would have to sidle across, in the wall next to him.

His mind made up, he plucked the flower, watching the fuse burn down. He would need to time this carefully.

When he judged that the bomb was at approximately the right distance from detonation, he threw it, and it exploded just as it neared the boulder, which broke into pieces, leaving a ten-rupee piece. Really, he was running out of room for all the money he had stumbled upon on the island. He'd nearly recovered the funds he'd paid for the sail, and wondered if Zunari had given him a good deal after all.

While he thought, the smoke cleared, revealing a door lower down. It would be difficult, especially if he were injured, to get back up onto the ledge; Link hoped that the door led to a path to higher up. At the other side of the ledge was a blue door, that slid open easily at his slight push. It slid up, and he marked that, because doors within a building tended to look and behave in the same manner. Doors at Outset and Windfall, not to speak of Dragon Roost Island proper, all had handles to hold onto while you pushed or pulled, but these strange doors seemed to act almost on their own, with a disturbing sort of thoughtfulness. Somewhere in the corner of his mind, he remembered that this was a sacred place, and wondered if it perhaps wasn't alive.

On the other side of the door, a fiery pit blocked his way forward, while a closer approach (he marveled that the proximity of the lava did not exude more heat, but for now, put it from his mind as if it were unimportant) revealed that what had seemed an unusually square pool of lava instead continued further, eating into the fourth wall he hadn't been able to see, leading who-knew-where.

There were a couple of heavy jugs by the entrance. Picking one up revealed them to be brimming with somehow cool water, and he felt less concerned for having taken Medli's jar of water from her. She must've known about these jugs of water throughout the Cavern. Still, he wondered what the purpose of this room was. On the other side of the room, the way forwards was barred off with wooden planks. To his right was the river of lava, and to his left, more jugs of water.

And a treasure chest. He wondered what was inside that chest—it looked drab and wooden, reinforced at its edges with wood of a different colour, which was probably stronger than the lighter coloured wood on which it lay. He threw the jug of water into the lava, and watched in fascination as the water caused the molten rock to harden, temporarily. He had heard of such processes in Sturgeon's books, but it was one thing to hear, and another to watch it happen.

He jumped onto the makeshift platform in the lava (already beginning to melt, he could feel it, as it rocked beneath his feet) and thence walked onto the platform with the treasure chest.

Wary of any traps, he kicked it open with his boot, and, waiting a second, reached in, smiling when his hands closed on something cool and metallic. He was unsurprised to pull out a key. He put it into his messenger bag, and put the bag back into his pocket. It seemed best to keep everything in there when he didn't need it, with the exception of sword and shield. Although, if he'd had another shield, he would have used it. He was all too aware that, for such an old, wooden artefact, that slightest touch from a fire would quickly devour the thing, and the shield was a family heirloom, had once belonged to the Hero of Time himself. Link meant to take good care of it.

He picked up another of the jugs of water, and threw it so that it broke against the extant rock platform, resolidifying the liquefying rock, and then, almost on a whim, he picked up a jug, jumping from platform to third ledge, curious about what lay beyond the wooden barricade. He set the jug of water down, gently, and set to hacking away methodically at the wooden planks.

There was truly something strange about this blade. It was sharper than a blade ought to be, perhaps, cutting through the wood with greater ease than Link suspected a sword rightly ought.

Beyond was a fancy, ornate chest, covered in gold lacquer, and inset in aquamarine and—something pink—tourmaline, perhaps?

It looked the sort of chest wherein valuables would be stored. It was too big, and too weighty, to kick open. There was a catch to the latch, a mechanism to keep it closed. He wondered why there weren't a better lock on it, but then, it had been hidden behind a wall of wooden planks. Perhaps, whoever had put it here had thought them protection enough.

He swiveled the locking mechanism, and opened the chest, to find what looked to be a very old map, made of a soft, thick material with a propensity towards bending. It took a bit of trying to find the four corners or edges of the thing, that he might pull the fabric taut enough to read it.

"It" was a map of the Cavern, labeled as such in Modern Hylian, and with a convenient Compass Rose and legend at the bottom. He took a moment to study it, coming over to lean against the jug of water.

According to the map, he was on the lowest of three storeys. Above these three was a fourth storey composed of a single, circular room, labeled with a skull, a symbol not to be found on the legend.

The rooms he had already been in were shaded in slightly, as if the map had been made for him, and knew where he had and hadn't been. He saw, by this, that the path to the right, formerly blocked by a locked door (although he now had the key), led up, connecting to the second storey, which had a couple of winding subterranean passageways. One of these led up to the third storey, which had another corridor connecting to a small antechamber, through which the room with the skull label could be accessed.

The choice was clear. He would go across the bridge, heading to the right. It was all that he could do.

With that decision made, he turned to go. That was when four or five blobs, each solidly coloured either green or red, with bright yellow eyes, rimmed with heavy bags like those of an insomniac, dropped down around him. As he watched, a green one bunched itself up, compacting, and then launching itself into the air towards him, in what was clearly an attack.

Link wondered how these things could possibly hurt him, when they didn't seem to have any weapons—sheer brute force, perhaps? — but he drew the sword and cut the green monster in two.

He recognised them, now—apothecaries used the gel like what the green blob left behind after the monster itself dissolved into the ground. With green gel, you could make a potion to replenish magic, with red, the ultimate healing potion, which restored all energy and vitality, healing even the most trivial of wounds. But, there was nowhere to put the stuff. It would, doubtless, have ruined his messenger bag.

As he thought this, he watched three other chuchus—two green and one red—launch themselves at him. He cut through these with equal ease, and hastened to sheathe the sword, picking up the jug, and throwing it onto the platform before another ambush could be triggered.

Safe on the other side, he didn't trouble himself with looking back, only pushing gently on the door by which he had entered the room, which gave a little, and rose up into the ceiling, falling again when he had passed.

Keeping an eye out for the fire keese that he knew to be patrolling the main chamber, he kept the sword drawn and ready to fight the bokoblins guarding the far sides of each bridge. It wasn't ideal, fighting a monster on a rope bridge over a lake of lava, but he was able to slip past the first bokoblin, and lure it onto the small platform. The second one, however, refused to be lured, and he was forced to continually back up whilst trying to break through the monster's onslaught. The gaps between the support ropes of the bridge were large enough that fear of falling through seemed reasonable and justified. But, at last, he managed to defeat the second bokoblin, without once being caught by the fire keese. Now, he could approach the door.

An intricate sort of padlock with its chains prevented the handle of the door from moving. He stared at that handle, brass in the blue of the door, and wondered if the handle didn't exist just because the door needed to be kept locked. How much of the lay of the Cavern was the monsters' fault, and how much was normal?

He inserted the key into the padlock, and even as he twisted the key, the shaft broke off, and the padlock fell to the ground. He looked at the broken key, and then at the padlock, and finally at the handle of the door, and then he twisted the round knob, and crossed over to the other side.

He found himself outside, on a barren dirt path leading upwards, hugging the side of the mountain. Straight ahead, a strangely familiar-looking bird sat in a nest, unaware of his presence for the moment. He noticed, with some trepidation, that the body was predominantly black, with a white line around the neck, and a brown head, and golden tail feathers. Kargaroc, his mind supplied, but he was too busy remembering a much bigger, but similar-looking, bird, which wore a mask. He wondered if, underneath, the faces were the same.

As he came nearer the nest, he was frustrated to find that the bird launched itself into the air, flying over towards him, talons already outstretched. He drew the sword that Orca had given him again, slashing across the thin neck, dodging the pecks of the long yellow beak, and the swipes made with the sharp yellow talons. Only when the immediate danger had gone did he notice the glimmer of something in the nest.

He paused to pick up a handful of the golden tail feathers—if he had had to kill the bird (entirely plausible, as these ledges were not as broad as they should be, and had no rail to keep anyone from falling down to the sea, far below)—he might as well take the opportunity to keep his word to the guard outside the passage. He tried not to notice how the body did not explode into smoke, and fixed his eyes upon the glint of metal in the nest, instead.

He found another key, identical to the one he had already lost, as if these were some sort of skeleton key for the Cavern. He slipped this into his messenger bag, with the map, and the Wind Waker, and several joy pendants. Then, he noticed a wooden plank—just wide enough to sidle across, if he hugged the wall as tight as he could, and beyond that, a steel ladder leading up leant against a higher ledge. Periodic jets of fire burst from a volcanic vent, somewhere towards the centre. There was never an end to the geysers of flame. He would have thought that they wouldn't reach so high up, but alas, this was not the case.

He watched the rhythmic behaviour of the vent for a couple of minutes before he set to climbing, noticing a pattern to the jets of flame. Always, it was preceded by a hissing noise, and sparks that shot out from the crack in the volcanic wall. He began to climb when the vent was about to blow, and stopped just outside the area it would heat. He waited for the vent to subside again before climbing once more, surprised when the metal—which ought to have been hot—was instead cool to the touch. It had been hit by the full force of the fire, after all. It should have been red-hot.

Not that he didn't appreciate this bit of illogical providence.

He pulled himself to the top of the ledge, lifting his head up over the edge first to be sure that nothing was there. There was a door, of course—his map suggested as much—but nothing else. The door was unlocked, and so Link was able to open it to walk back inside, into a completely darkened room.

Two torches at the room's entrance tried valiantly to shed light on the situation, but in vain. The most use he found for them was that, guided by their light, he could see a jar of clubs, of the same sort as those that had stood near the bounding walls of the lookout towers on The Forsaken Fortress. Indeed, he suspected they were made of the same wood, if indeed they were of wood. Each of them had the bulging end, and narrow tips that served for handles. It resembled a drumstick, if less thick and round at the ends. The unbalanced weight made the club seem heavier than it was, of course, making the whole quite unwieldy, and he was glad that he didn't have to use it as a weapon this time.

Predictably, as if prompted by these sorts of thoughts, he began to hear a sort of squeaking coming from above the moment he lit his makeshift torch, and he resented the situation at hand. The main room—the one with the bridges over lava—had such keese, but on fire, suggesting that the fire of the torch wouldn't hurt keese—and would instead make them more dangerous.

He set the torch down on the ground, reaching for his sword to cut them in two as they approached, and, with the several keese dispatched, he was free to pick the thing up again, heading deeper into the room.

Whenever he came to a torch, he lit it, and the room gradually brightened. It was a long corridor, ending in a large room filled with pots. Pots were placed precariously on shelves, on top of beds (whose beds were these; who slept in this place? Did they belong to monsters?), and covered the table in the middle of the room. Two empty pots flanked the now-lit torches that stood on either side of another of the blue doors. Said door was locked, the padlock obstructing the handle.

Link found the sheer number of pots in the room suspicious, and had the uneasy sense of being watched. Some subterranean part of his mind recognised that he was alert and wary, and ready to do battle. He thought that he heard soft breathing.

He remembered that Medli had come here before him, but he rejected the idea that she might have hidden from him. No, this was something more of an ambush. He threw down the torch, and stomped on it to put out the blaze, and then drew the sword.

He broke pots until he had driven out all of the hiding black bokoblins, and a sense of safety returned to his mind. The tension left him, and he relaxed. He had found a key amidst all of the pots and the monsters, which meant that he now had two keys, and one locked door. He wondered if the other key weren't merely a spare, recalling the key that had broken when he had used it. He had a feeling that that was how keys worked, here, in the Cavern. It was frustratingly inconvenient, but understandable. The oddest part was that, comparing the keys side by side, he found that they were identical.

With a sigh, he twisted the key in the padlock, unsurprised, now, when it broke irreparably, and the chains fell off into darkness. He did notice the mystery that, despite an otherwise smooth stone floor, he did not trip on the chains or the padlock, as he twisted the handle. Being unable to see the chains in the darkened room was one thing, but he knew that they should have been in his way, crossing them, in order to open the door and leave the room. He put it from his mind as best he could, to focus on what dangers might lie behind the door.

These dangers turned out to be a blindingly bright outdoor path, as the one before, brilliant to the point of incapacitating him after the unnaturally darkened room he had just left. He stood on the threshold, door opened, for a few moments, allowing his eyes the sorely needed time to adjust, whilst leaving himself an escape route, just in case he wouldn't be allowed to backtrack. He was somewhat alarmed not to have encountered another barred door, yet.

He was about to. He climbed up a set of steps carved into the path, and tried not to notice as they gave way under his feet, falling into an infinite abyss. Well, that's how it felt, anyway.

After the falling steps had created a gap far larger than he could jump across, the remaining steps stayed steady underfoot, and then there was a dirt path, just like the one he had followed in the previous outdoor corridor (if a corridor you could call a winding outdoor path).

Around a bend, he found a pen, all of thick wooden posts (he doubted even the strangely keen blade Orca had lent him could cut through them) arranged and crisscrossed like netting, stretching incredibly high into the sky, and then, on the opposite side of the open entrance, a small chamber with a rocky roof, where a rito girl with long red hair stood, clutching at the bars, looking to be on the verge of tears.

Unthinking, perhaps reminded too strongly of Aryll, he rushed into the pen, pausing only when stakes drove down into the wood of the entrance behind him, Medli, belatedly, called for him to watch out, and a kargaroc came from parts unknown to deliver one of the pig-like monsters he had avoided by barrel in the Forsaken Fortress, dropping it right in front of him. He did not relish the thought of fighting a spearman. No, not at all.

There were no fire keese nor vents nearby, and thus he backflipped, drew the sword, followed by the shield from his back, and watched the moblin's attack intently, chastising himself for letting down his guard, and taking up the best defensive position he could manage.

He suspected that the best strategy would be to wait for the moblin to attack, and parry attack, counting on the moblin to overextend itself. If he tried to close in, the moblin would attack as soon as he was within range. He kept on the move, and waited for the moblin to swing the spear. He tried to ignore Medli's gasps and exclamations as she watched the fight. He tried, in truth, to forget she was even there.

There! The moblin swung, and he jumped up, under the swing of the spear, blocking and twisting the spear away, slicing into the monster's side, and around its back, and landing on his feet behind it. He did not shy away from taking another, cheaper strike at the monster's back. The parry attack hadn't cut through deeply enough, but the follow up attack had, driven as it was by the greater force inherent in a jump attack.

The monster dispersed in black smoke, and Link considered relaxing, but the stakes were still blocking the entrance, and here came another kargaroc, high out of reach. Link briefly wished that he had some sort of ranged weapon, but then he was joined in battle again, and wishful, hopeless thoughts were more than he could afford.

The second moblin jabbed at his side, but Link backflipped away from the blow, careful not to make any moves that wouldn't leave him the time to dodge. If Link hadn't been in the other moblin's blind spot, he wouldn't have tried a risky technique like the jump attack. Here, with the moblin already wise, perhaps, to some of his techniques (whence came that blasted kargaroc; how much had its passenger seen?), he limited himself to basic attacks as he searched for an opening.

This monster seemed to favour jabbing, which rendered his parry attack useless—he needed a swinging attack whose momentum he could exaggerate, and use the monster's attack against it. The shaft of the spear was incredibly unyielding, even to his sharp and trusty blade, which ruled out disarming, and the monsters wielded the spear less as a spear, and more as a thrusting sword.

It was also, unfortunately, too fast for Link to get into its blind spot in the natural way of things, and, sooner or later, he would tire. Judging by the unending rounds the guards of the Forsaken Fortress had endured, he would tire long before the moblin. He would have to try something desperate soon, perhaps.

He blocked a thrust with the shield, and brought the sword around to cut at the monster's briefly exposed belly, even though he couldn't see what he was doing. The spear didn't stick into the shield, and the monster quickly backed away, creating distance between them.

He had scored a hit, a cut that was already closing, in the monster's side. He followed with one of Orca's combat sequences—the vertical slice combo attack: up, down, left, right, and used the blocking position the monster had adopted to try another parry attack.

He warily watched the skies as the second moblin deteriorated, disintegrating in black smoke, and the bars of both Medli's cage and the pen rose back up—wherever in the ceiling and the arch of the gate a number of thick wooden stakes could be hidden. Unless they were hollow and retractable, he didn't see how the stakes wouldn't poke out the top of the gate, at the very least.

Any further contemplation of unimportant matters was driven from his thoughts by Medli, rushing over.

"Oh, thank goodness you came here! Thank you for rescuing me! You're hurt, though," she said, frowning at a shallow cut near his left shoulder. It would have to be on his sword arm, wouldn't it? he thought bitterly.

"There's only those two monsters, so I think we're alright now. But, the way forward is barred to one without wings. Luckily, I brought this. I suppose, now, that it's inevitable that we'll be making our way to speak with Valoo together. Please take this."

She sighed, bowing her head, reaching into some space Link couldn't see to bring out a long length of rope, with a claw at one end, attached, somehow, with metal. He took it from her with great care, and gave her a puzzled glance, hoping for an explanation.

"This is called the grappling hook. It's said that, before my people evolved wings with which to fly, they used this to get around. Every rito is given one, to enable them to navigate the island despite lacking wings. When we come of age, we still keep ours. It takes a while to get used to flying.

"There are posts you can use the grappling hook on located around this part of Valoo's tower. Come on, I'll show you how it works. Ihave enough experience to fly from post to post, I think. My wings feel a lot stronger, this close to Valoo. Or maybe it's the stakes…. Oh! Forgive me for babbling! We must hurry and speak to Valoo!"

Medli raced back out the gate without another word, glancing back behind her as she did, as if to urge haste.

Link followed, still clutching the grappling hook, which he thought he more or less understood. It would be similar to Niko's lecture about swinging from the ropes of the lanterns.

He noticed, first, that Medli was standing on top of a horizontal wooden log sticking out of the side of the mountain. He recalled unconsciously observing several of these posts before, especially on the path to the entrance to the main chamber of the Island. He hadn't thought them to be natural phenomena but hadn't given much thought to their use, either.

Now, listening to Medli's lecture on how to use the hook— swing the rope like a lasso, throw the loop over the post, aiming it so that the rope looped over the hook of the tool, pulling it tight as you did—he understood. He wondered at the skill that all ritos would necessarily have built up from their youth in such a useless subject that they would never use it again—unless their wings were injured, and wondered if there were more than luck and skill involved. Medli didn't seem to question that the hook would work the same for him, although he wasn't a rito.

Finishing her lecture, she flew to the next post, and he swung the lasso of the rope. He made the discovery that, with the tension, and the impeccable balance of the hook, he wouldn't be surprised if the hook couldn't be used to grab items from a distance, also. The tension would make it behave like a hook attached to a rod, for a split second, as if he were using one of those hooks that salespeople on Windfall used to reach high places. It could be useful.

It looped firmly over the hook on the first try, providing a secure grip on the post. Link decided that he might as well trust his weight on it, and swung across, to a platform he hadn't seen before he'd followed the path of his momentum, and caught sight of it around a bend. He rolled to his feet, standing easily despite the heavy impact.

Medli was around a corner, on another horizontal post, but she flew ahead, to the next one, and left him to follow her. They continued the game of follow the leader, until he came to a ledge right above the door through which he had entered. He hadn't noticed it when he had come outside, but then, he had been a bit dazzled by the light.

"You have to go back in there, I think. I'll go back up, and continue to try to speak to Valoo."

"Wait, Medli," he began, although she was already flying away. "What if there are more monsters?"

She landed before him again, and gave him a puzzled glance, and then nodded. She realised that he was something of a makeshift bodyguard.

"From here, it doesn't sound as if Valoo is angry. It sounds as if he's in pain. Listen," she commanded, and he obeyed. Sure enough, the faint cries he heard didn't sound angry.

He tried not to be conspicuous about it, but he glanced at Medli's ears. They were pointed, and long, like his and Aryll's. He remembered what Quill had said about girls with long ears like Aryll's and Tetra's being kidnapped. What was the importance? Was it just the reputation of long-eared people for having heightened senses of hearing? "Nothing will disturb me whilst I am in the air, I don't think—not this near the Great Valoo. Wait for me, in the chamber below Valoo's nest. You'll recognise it, because Valoo's tail hangs down into that chamber. But, I must take a risk, and speak with him. Don't worry about me; the cause is more important."

And, with a shy smile, Medli was once again airborne, flying away before Link could pull out the map to ask her what she knew. How frustrating.

Instead, he glared at the door back to inside, and pulled out his map. According to this—wait, when had the rooms he had been to been shaded in? Those rooms had definitely not been coloured in before. They showed him to currently be on the third storey, with only a single storey's worth of puzzles keeping him from the antechamber, and the room marked with a skull.

And if he wasn't mistaken, he would be returning, at long last, to the main chamber, where the fire keese and rope bridges were.

He opened the door, and sighed, unsurprised to find himself near the birdcage shape he had noticed at the entrance to the Cavern. There was a floral pattern in faded paint atop a platform—ceramic, perhaps, and hopefully not metal—rocking sharply back and forth as the geyser of flame hit it, stabilised it, and then left it hanging, suspended by a number of ropes, from the ceiling. Link didn't know what waited for him down below, but cutting the ropes seemed to be the only way forwards.

There was an opening, a way into the cage, right before him. He didn't hesitate, drawing his sword even as he entered the enclosure. Remembering one of Orca's techniques, he held the sword out at his side, and spun in a circle, slicing with his sword as he did, until he had rotated body and blade enough to cut through every rope in a single blow. He knew by the steadiness of the platform that the geyser of flame was gone, but it was still a shock to fall so far so fast. He feared the fall might harm him as any fall would, but the platform fell at an equal rate to him himself, so there was no jarring impact.

He opened his eyes, which he hadn't been able to help squeezing tightly shut, and noticed land within the lava, right before him. He leapt without thinking, and then the geyser of flame erupted, shoving the platform back into the air. He wondered why he hadn't seen this landstrip before, and then realised, looking up, that it was hidden from view by the rope bridge above.

Then, his speculation was dropped in favour of fending off the two bokoblins, both black, patrolling this corridor, below. The rope bridge was not terribly high above, and he could hear a new set of bokoblin guards patrolling there. He hoped that they didn't have a way down. He scarce felt the need for strategy or planning against such meagre challenge as these, after fighting the two moblins. He took the offensive, though outnumbered, remembering that time was of the essence, now that Medli was alone, and known to have been captured once.

It was in the middle of battle that he noticed the padlocked grate at the far end of the corridor—beneath the door that, on the first storey, led to the outside. He ran the second bokoblin through, and waited for the smoke to clear, picking up the butterfly pendant, almost thoughtlessly, before heading over to remove the padlock. This time, upon twisting the key, he noticed how the chains and padlock seemed to disappear as they fell to the ground. There was no sound to indicate that they ever reached the ground.

The wooden stakes around the hidden chamber were, in effect, a sort of horizontally sliding door. It was easy enough to pull open, and harder to figure out what to make of the chest lying before him. Here was another of the same sort of fancy chests as he had found the map in, with the same colour and same size stones.

He twisted the swivel-clasp and the lid popped open, and he found it rather ironic that there was nothing inside but a key, and a rather large one, at that; easily as long as his forearm, this key would not be easy to lose. It was all of gold, with an intricate design on the handle. It rather resembled a horned monster, with evil, squinting eyes.

He shoved the key into the messenger bag, and put the bag back into his pocket. Then, he tried to figure out what to do next.

When he was back at the door by which he had returned to this room, he noticed a grappling hook post set in the wall behind him. If he wasn't mistaken, there was another door somewhere above him. A spiraling path of grappling hook posts pointed a way upwards. He realised that to reach each successive one, he would have to stand atop the previous. If he failed, the inevitable result would be falling into the lava below.

He remembered, with a start, that there were fire keese somewhere nearby.

It was an interesting experience, if terrifying, swinging and stopping and climbing up, post after post. It was particularly interesting when a chattering fire keese caught sight of him and rushed him, only to be taken from the sky with a blow from the hook itself. It was not much of a weapon, but it had worked well enough, in a tight spot. He made greater haste still after that close call, until he stood on a post within jumping distance of a ledge. There was a blue door there, and thus he leapt.

Turning around, he suspected that he had come about ninety degrees, from where he had started. He tried not to think about all of that space, and how he might return.

The room beyond the blue door was the antechamber, in which a lake of lava (a square lake, again) separated him from a set of tall terraced steps, with much smaller steps in the middle leading up to a great padlocked door. That was one huge padlock.

There were jars and treasure chests clearly visible on the other side, but also a couple of strange fiery red creatures milling about. There was something insectile about them; perhaps it was the huge, black pincers, or the segmented bodies and myriad legs, or perhaps it was the single, mindless, pale blue-green eye. A glance through the telescope showed that there was armour covering every inch of them—natural, not artificial, and therefore near impossible to prise off—and that left one solitary point of weakness—the eyes.

Of course, it was too far to the other side for him to hit a moving target from here. He'd have to swing across. He'd spent the past several minutes analysing the far side, and pretending that the hook dangling from the ceiling wasn't there. It was a very reliable looking hook, all things considered. He felt that he could trust it with his weight. But, he missed the regularity of the posts scattered about the island.

Well, there was no point postponing the inevitable. He put away Aryll's telescope, drew out the grappling hook, and aimed. He was unsurprised that, even in the more limited space, the rope wrapt tight around itself, and he was swinging with the momentum he had himself given to his swing by the force of his throw.

On his first swing across, a monster clicked its pincers together at him. He let the natural pull tug him back to the original side, and pumped his legs, sending himself flying higher and faster. Finally, he built up enough momentum, and landed, hard, on his hands and knees on the far side. He couldn't roll to his feet, this time.

He watched the two magtails carefully, waiting for one or the other to strike. One clicked its pincers together, right in front of its eyes, and then drew them apart again. He stuck his sword through its eyes, and made to go after the other.

And then, he noticed that a third had crawled out of the lava pit. On second thought, perhaps it would be best to cut his losses, and to go on, through the door on top, only accessible via his huge metal key. There had been no introduction of new monsters when he had been watching, and thus, he suspected that they would continue to be replaced until either he ran out of the energy with which to fight, or he was no longer there to be threatened. The creatures seemed almost formed of fire—all but the eyes. Perhaps they were a sort of fire spirit, after all.

He ignored the treasure chests in this room, but then, as if he couldn't resist, opened each, just to see what was within. Fifty rupees? Pointless. But, a "knight's crest", with a letter explaining all about it writ in familiar handwriting inside? That had been unexpected.

Knights' crests, symbols of the greatest warriors on the great seas, were rare and hard to come by. They were items that could be stolen or won from a mysterious creature known as the darknut, which wore them on its wrists, under their heavy plate.

The letter, which looked so very faded and old, explained that its author had attained knowledge of a new technique by showing the crests to an unnamed someone, somewhere on the Great Sea. He offered to teach anyone the technique, in exchange for ten knights' crests. That wasn't the surprising part. That would be the signature at the end of the missive, a very familiar one: Orca of Outset.

Orca. Orca of Outset. This was some way to prove himself to the kindly old man who had been something of a grandfather to Link. He pocketed the crest, and ignored the other chest. He wondered about the pots, but felt only the menace he was coming to associate with the magtails in the room. He ignored them to turn instead to the great double doors before him.

It was a familiar thing, now, to put the key in the keyhole, and twist. But, this key didn't break after he had unlocked the door. The padlock retreated instead of falling off, withdrawing into chambers in the four corners of the doorframe, and the key glowed in its handle. He twisted the key again, and opened the door.

He had expected, he was embarrassed to admit even to himself, a room much like the main chamber of Dragon Roost Island—the one with the ramp leading upwards. There was no such path upwards, here, and he took a brief moment to wonder how it was that rito approached Valoo to get their scales. No, instead of the path he noticed, looking around the room, a circle of packed dirt, shelves hanging high above, spaced at regular intervals, and, in the centre of that circle, a much vaster pool of lava.

He was about to turn around to look for another route forwards when he heard the unmistakable whoosh of bars falling down across the door through which he had entered, and sighed in resignation, not even turning around. It made sense, if Valoo was in pain, that there was some sort of monster here to cause it, and a powerful one, if the bars were a clue. Or, he thought, ill at ease, the skull marked on the map.

Valoo's tail wiggled free of a platform of earth suspiciously equally wide as the lake of lava, and a vast thing reared up out of the pit. It was bone white in colour, with a single, vast green-blue eye, its head covered in some sort of armour. It had two huge pincers, with which it thrust a new platform of solid earth up into the hole, and many little legs. It looked, in short, rather like a larger version of the crawling fire bugs outside. Perhaps they were too small to see the huge, gaping maw, with its shriveled looking lips. Though that still left the question of why the monster was off-white instead of molten red and black.

And then, predictably, his thoughts were cut short by the approaching pincer of the new monster. Link leapt and rolled to the side, his eye fixed on the platform, and Valoo's tail hanging down. He could only hope that Valoo would forgive him, but that tail looked ever so much like the hook in the previous room. And the shelves set into the walls were just the right distance and height away to swing to in safety. If Valoo had wriggled free on his own once, that platform of stone must be fairly precariously lodged into the ceiling. Link suspected that he could jar it loose with his weight alone, but swinging back and forth might help jiggle it further loose.

He dodged another blow from the pincers, and brought out the grappling hook.

It was a very convenient, easy-to-use tool, and he hoped that Medli didn't want it back afterwards. He could easily see how it could come in useful, even far away from Dragon Roost Island, and he was on a rather important quest.

He hooked the rope over Valoo's tail, and was airborne just in time to avoid another fist of the great bug, which, seeing that he was out of reach, raised what passed for its face so that its armoured eye was looking right at Link, keeping him in sight at all times.

Link wondered why it didn't leave its lava pool, as would its smaller counterparts.

He landed on the shelf on the opposite side of the room from that whence he had started, just in time to tug the hook loose from its moorings before the platform fell down onto the monster, dazing it. Link was surprised to see something like armour flaking off, cracking and peeling away all over the body. But, the damage was insufficient, and the creature merely reared up, ready with a new block of stone to shove up over Valoo's tail. Or, maybe it was the old one. It was hard to tell; it seemed to come from nowhere.

Link swung the grappling hook almost straight out, aiming slightly downwards, and was relieved when the hook caught on Valoo's tail again, as he went flying back across the pit in front of the monster. Once again, he avoided being hit by the falling platform, once again he watched as the armour cracked further, revealing black underneath. One more blow should do it—it only remained in a truly coherent piece around the eye, which, Link had realised from the start, was precisely what he needed to uncover.

He readied the grappling hook, waiting until the platform was secured, and then swung across for the third time. This time, the remains of the armour flaked off, revealing a black monster with a white underbelly, and that huge, almost glowing blue-green eye.

How to go about exposing the eye to the blade of his sword was the next dilemma. The monster had not bothered replacing the platform this time, and it was faster and more flexible with its armour gone. It had a much further reach, and even the shelves set into the walls were no longer safe.

Link jumped off and rolled in time to avoid the pincers that slammed into the shelf, avoiding the hazard of broken ceramic with a quick roll. He noticed that, now that the monster was attacking with both pincers, dragging more of its body further out of the pool of lava, its eye followed, and the way to the eye seemed to be being just close enough to lash out at the eye in the brief moments before the creature retracted its pincers for another attack. He leapt down on the floor, and watched for the insectile monster to attack.

He stayed close to the edge that it might think (if it could think) that it had a chance of hitting him, and then backflipped to avoid the claws. The eye landed where he ought to have been, and slammed hard into the ground. For a moment, the monster lay there, dazed and hurting, and Link prolonged its suffering by savagely slicing at the exposed eye.

Eventually, it managed to draw back, but then it reared up, hitting its head against the roof, causing a small cave in that Link thought might crush him, too. And then it sank beneath the lava, crumbling as it did, as if made of hardened clay. In moments, there was nothing left of it, and the pool of lava began to cool, leaving behind a platform of hardened lava, and a shimmering beam of blue light, standing in the centre.

The door was unlocked, and Link could only think of one thing to do: head into the light and hope for the best.

It brought him outside, to a platform he hadn't noticed before, where a flustered Medli was still spouting some strange language at a red dragon, each of her words slow, and carefully chosen, as if she were still a bit uncertain as to their meaning.

She jumped when the blue light deposited him in front of her, slowly setting him on his feet, when he had expected to be rudely dumped onto the ground.

"Link! You're alright! And, the Great Valoo isn't in pain anymore, look!" She pointed, rather unnecessarily, at the great sky spirit, who threw back his head, and gave voice to a sound rather like a horn. A cloud around the mountain that Link hadn't noticed before dissipated, and the sky seemed to clear. Link remembered that this was a sky spirit, and such control over weather was to be expected.

Then, Valoo peered down to look at them, bending a long, red neck down to fix them with yellow eyes the colour of his underbelly (and the bottom of his neck). He said something in what seemed to be the same language as Medli had just spoken, but so fast that Link could tell without looking at Medli that she was flummoxed.

"Er—he wishes—to thank you for your assistance in defeating the monster that was tormenting him, and he calls you a true hero," she said, uncertain.

The dragon said something else, as if knowing that she had finished translating what he had said.

"He advises you to head south, but before you do that, to use the wind gods'…wind? He must be speaking of the shrine in the back of the mountain, although how that will help, I don't know."

The dragon drew back from Medli and Link, who was trying to hide how bewildered and lost he currently was.

"Come on, Link, let's go! I think I can carry you back to the entrance where we parted. It's a shame that no one can come back up here without wings until the ladder leading to this balcony is replaced, but at least we can do that now. Come on!"

Reluctantly, Link allowed himself to be picked up in Medli's talons, wondering as he did if that was how Aryll had felt, kidnapped by the great bird. Well, aside from the fact that she had had every reason to be afraid that the bird might eat her, or what it would do to her if it didn't. Link, on the other hand, quite enjoyed his flight. The wind was cool and rejuvenating, invigorating after the heat of the Cavern.

Medli set him down outside the Cavern door, and they made their way back through in silence, Link noticing as they went that the darkened corridor was brightly lit, now, and there was no sense of menace, nor any monsters to be seen. There were no corpses of kargarocs, either, and Link had at least fifteen feathers. Hokit had asked for twenty, and he already had almost as many as he needed.

Inside the Cavern, which was holy space, neither Medli nor Link wanted to talk, although Medli kept looking over at him as if there were something she desperately wished to say. It was fortunate that the journey was much briefer without monsters or puzzles to slow their progress. She burst into speech the moment they were across the (now solid rock) former pit of lava in the narrow corridor leading to the entrance.

"I think the danger has past," said Medli. "You've saved our entire race! Thank you, Link! You really were brave! I can't wait to tell Komali!"

"Tell me what?" asked a familiar voice, sounding much less rude and sulky than Link was used to. Medli spun around, to see Komali, poorly hidden by the self-same tall wall that surrounded the lake.

"Oh! Prince Komali!" said Medli, bowing low before him. Link realised that he had made no obeisance upon their first acquaintance, either, as if he were keeping a running tally of his failures in etiquette.

To Link's enduring surprise, Komali blushed, running a nervous hand through his hair. "There's no need for that, Medli. We've been friends forever, after all. I'm glad you're safe." He bit his lip, and turned towards Link, surprising Link with a bow in his direction, hand over the heart, and surprisingly deep.

"I'm sorry I doubted you. I watched what was going on from a distance. I followed you to see what would happen, after you'd gone. I didn't expect for you to—for you to venture into the Cavern alone, and with no more wings than I. I'm really sorry about what I said. I was wrong about you."

Now, he was scuffing the dirt underfoot with those taloned legs.

"Thanks to you, I think I understand what true courage is. I've realised I can't gain it by clinging to the past and hiding behind memories. Instead, I must move forwards, and make my own path—give of myself in sacrifice, to help others. That's what courage is, I think. That strength of will that pushes you on, not selfishly, but on the behalf of others."

"Prince Komali," Medli began. She sounded even more uncertain than when she had been translating for Valoo. She shot Link a confused look.

"I want you to take this," Komali said, somehow withdrawing the huge ball of before from seeming thin air.

Link could see that it was decorated with swirling lines, and wondered about their significance. If there was any significance.

"It's Din's Pearl, that you need to save your sister. Anything I can do to help you save your sister will also give me courage. I mean to be a better person, and not sulk when I'm confronted by challenges, but rather I will face them head on. Thank you, Link Sylvanus. Your gift to me is greater even than what I can repay. But, I hope you remember us rito when you use that Pearl to save your sister."

"Komali, are you sure?" asked Link, hesitating now that his aim was in sight. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to give up the last relic of a recently lost family member, one whom he dearly loved. The mere thought of losing Aryll's telescope was as a vise on his heart, and he knew her to be alive. There would be time for new memories, and new special items, between the two of them. But, this was all that remained to Komali of his beloved grandmother.

Komali was insistent, seeming not to even notice the hand Medli put on his shoulder as a show of support and concern for him.

"Take it. It's what you came here for. It's not doing anyone any good, staying here, but if I give it to you, I know you'll treat it well."

Link took the Pearl, hesitant, wondering where he could put it.

Komali smiled, losing the look of sorrow and worry that had plagued him from the start, and made him seem unpleasant.

"Come along, Link. Medli and I can see you off. I'll show you the way to the shrine."

Medli hesitated. "Perhaps, you could accompany him, Prince Komali. I admit my part in the adventure wore me out rather."

Komali watched her go with a strange expression of determination, and then turned back to Link.

"It's just as well I'm still groundbound, or I might forget that you couldn't fly and show you a bad route. Come on."

Komali swam back across the lake first, and Link followed.

He walked back into the central chamber of the rito aerie, and Link was surprised how little fuss was made about the departure of the prince—but after all, what trouble could he have encountered, with the lake dried up, and the Cavern out of reach for one without wings?

Link followed him, grateful that the water of the lake washed away the dirt and grime (and other substances) covering him like a blanket after his journey through the Cavern. He could almost casually hand over the sixteen or so feathers he had accumulated thus far, though not as casually as the guard received them, with the most surreptitious hiding Link had seen. The rito guard never even looked down to see what he was doing, and Link knew from experience that feathers were not things easily stored.

Komali jumped down from the second storey in lieu of using a ramp, and Link hurried after him—back outside again, down the sturdy wooden balcony corridor, through the archway, down the ledge with the blocks arranged to allow passage for the wingless, and stopped, at last, before a barely visible doorway blocked with a giant boulder.

Link sighed. Komali was already starting to look defeated, but then he changed his mind, staring at the bomb flowers all around.

He picked one, held onto it for a few seconds, and then threw the thing. It exploded as it hit the rock, leaving behind yet another ten-rupee piece, and a doorway, a natural corridor, to the other side of the island. Glancing back at Link, Komali beckoned him to follow.

Link, for one, was surprised at not only the sharp change in Komali's personality (although he remembered that Medli had described Komali as "usually very sweet", but also the fact that Komali was willing to dirty his hands with what seemed almost like menial labour.

But, he shook himself, and followed, through the corridor, to another beach, equally sandy to the one upon which he had first arrived. He turned to Komali, puzzled, but Komali merely pointed to an island, not far from shore, with two monuments upon it.

He might have said something, as well, but Link was too busy thinking about, and analysing, those monuments. They were both very tall, and blue, and he caught sight of pictures adorning one—some kind of symbols. But, the other monument was broken, doubtless in the enraged thrashing of the Great Valoo, when he had been injured. The damage looked recent, the edges still sharp. Link guessed it had happened not long ago at all.

Link nodded, once, in gratitude, and, sensing an imminent farewell, he at last gave a bow to the prince, who responded in kind.

"But, let's be friends, Link Sylvanus. If ever you return to our island of Dragon Roost, please, make yourself welcome, and visit me at any time. I look forward to our next meeting."

He turned to go back inside, and Link turned towards the water, and dove in.

Link was dripping wet with the seawater as he hauled himself onto the shrine by the shore. If he had been dehydrated upon his departure from the Cavern, and he admitted he might have been, the gulps he was forced to take of seawater cured that. It tasted just like the water of the well at home, to his surprise.

He had thought—why he wasn't sure—that it would have some strange, unknown minerals in it to affect the taste. But, it did not. It was a bit refreshing, too, to cool off yet again after the strenuous activity of spelunking, but he wished for a stiff breeze to dry him off.

Perhaps it was ironic, or perhaps it was appropriate, that no wind disturbed the shrine, leaving him to analyse the two stelai in peace.

The one on the left was the undamaged one, spared the destruction caused by Valoo lashing out (trying to squash the pesky bug that Link had slain?). The stele had symbols engraved in the dead centre, three of them—one an embossed arrow pointing up, one pointing left, and the third pointing right, each set into a curve of the rock, as if to protect them better from erosion. Link frowned, and pulled out the Wind Waker, not quite eager to use it for the first time in such a setting. He pointed to the left with his right hand, and then followed the directions with his left, swinging the Wind Waker without resistance into the three positions marked, and listening as an absent wind seemed to hum along. The song sounded almost…familiar. But that was impossible; he'd recall hearing this song before. He had an ear for music, and always learnt it quickly. Sturgeon had taught him a song or two, on the harp.

No sooner did the song finish, did a sudden small cloud whisk in out of nowhere, carrying a chortling blue frog on its fluffy surface. Link stared at the giant frog, forced to question his own sanity.

"Well, well, well! Welcome to you, new Wink Waker! It's good to have a new one after all these years! And so quick on the uptake, too. Do you like my song? I am Zephos, the god of clear-skied gentle winds. No better god as a guide for a sailor, eh? Not like my nasty brother, Cyclos."

The wind god circled him on his cloud, studying Link from every angle, as if thinking. "Ah, but don't think too badly of him," the god said, lowering himself down to Link's level. Link couldn't help taking a startled step back, wondering how you were supposed to act in the presence of a god. No one had mentioned this in any religious festivals, and it was hardly a common occurrence. Thankfully, this seemed to be a minor deity—less important even than Valoo, whose might must have overruled Zephos's control. Here on Dragon Roost, at least, he was safe, if the god decided he didn't like him, for Valoo seemed to appreciate his efforts. Then again, the god seemed very friendly and easy-going; perhaps he was safe anyway.

"You see, a few nights ago, a rock from the cliff up above crashed down upon this shrine, and Cyclos's monument broke, whilst mine was left intact. The ritos, who ordinarily look after the maintenance of this shrine, have not yet come around to fixing the monument, and he feels slighted, both that the rock fell and broke his monument, but not mine, and that the ritos haven't been paying us any attention. Although, by the sound of it, they have enough troubles on their minds with all the recent damage caused all over the island by Valoo's temper tantrum, ha, if you would call it that! He's not a dragon in its infancy anymore, but he sure acts like it! But, the ritos follow three sky gods, dependent as they are on the weather, and this is sort of Valoo's home turf. Of course he's their main concern. I understand their sentiments completely—although perhaps that's because it wasn't my monument that was broken. Hmmm… well, what can you do?

"Now listen, young Wind Waker. I am the god of friendly breezes, the sailor's best friend, and anytime you need to change the direction in which the wind blows in your area, conduct the song you just did, and point your arm in the direction you wish for the wind to blow, and I'll send a localised burst of wind in that area in that direction (as long as it isn't indoors or anything ridiculous like that), until you tell me otherwise, or go out of my reach. I'm just generous that way.

"Now, before I go, I want to send you off with a bit of a warning. My brother, you see, is just as powerful—no, I'll admit it: he's more powerful than I. He's a good, strong ally to have, but right now, he's in a vengeful mood. Be careful of cyclones you see on the sea, because he might be riding in one. And, if you find a way to hit him from a distance, smack him around a bit for me, hmm? Well, I'm off!"

And, while Link's head was still spinning with all of the new information, the frog, still laughing his head off (and were frogs, even frog gods, supposed to be blue?) zipped away on his personal flying cloud transport.

Link stood there for a few seconds, or perhaps a few minutes, thinking over everything he had just been told. Then, almost reluctant, yet filled with unquenchable curiosity, he went to the second stele, the upper right-hand corner of which had a huge chunk missing. The stone was still rough and sharp, and Link wondered how you would go about repairing such a massive work. There were pieces of the stele on the ground, but he wasn't sure that, even with those pieces, the monument would be complete. Probably, the ritos would have to chisel out a whole new rock. And Link didn't recall seeing rocks that eerie, aqua blue anywhere on the island. Perhaps it was imported? The closest he could think of were the greyish rock of the stone blocks he had noticed in the entrance to Dragon Roost Cavern. Maybe…?

He examined the monument itself more closely, to see that there were engraved markings chiseled in, at least two of them, the first pointing down, the second to the right. Presumably, they were instructions on a song to be conducted with the Wind Waker. He would have to get the real rhythm and notes straight from Zephos, or hope that the song was something unimportant, which he doubted, if it were on such a stele to begin with.

Deep in thought, he swam back to the shore, and returned back under the arch, heading down the broader slope and shore, back to where the patch of red lay conspicuous in the coastal waters.

"I have the Pearl," Link announced, before the boat could start off on a speech. Link wanted to sleep, not to hear a lecture on the importance of the Pearl, which he was sure was coming, or questions about his visit with the ritos, which was inevitable, or some random request he couldn't think of, off the top of his head. "If there's a place where the Pearl is secure, I want to know where it is. I don't trust it not to fall out with my messenger bag. My pocket is not the wisest place to store important things."

He pulled out the Pearl as he approached, watched the neck of the boat turn to look at him, and the lips chew on themselves, as if in thought.

"There is a compartment where the mast usually is, to which I retract the sail when it is not in use, as it is not now." Indeed, the sail was conspicuously absent, as Link might have noticed, had he been more awake. "There will be space there."

Link gave him a sceptical glance, but pulled open the hold for the sail, and found that there was, at least a little, room for the giant orb. He shoved the orange orb in, wondering what the squiggly lines with the dot on the bottom meant as he did, and then putting it from his mind.

"It's been a long day, but we should keep going," Link said. "Let me know if there is anything you need me to do. Wake me if there is trouble."

The King of Red Lions considered explaining about the fishmen, co-descendants with the ritos of the people known as the zoras, but decided that it could wait. He considered mentioning that Link had been at Dragon Roost for over a day.

The only thing that he couldn't keep himself from saying—and this because it was integral to continuation of the quest—was that they needed to head south, and the wind was blowing east.

Link sighed, pulling out the Wind Waker baton, and, without fanfare, pointed his hand to the left, and the finger of his other hand upwards, and then to the left, and then to the right. Then, as if he were a natural compass, he turned to the south, and pointed straight ahead. A brief little tune, almost familiar, arose up on the wind, and the wind was now at Link's back. He lay down, and slept, and the mast rose from the sail compartment, and the sail strung across it, and off they went, heading south.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four: Memories of a Forest King

Link woke as they were flying past the Eastern Triangle Island, at great speed. It was one of three triangular shaped islands which were arranged in an equilateral triangle. There was the Northern Triangle Island, which they had already passed at a distance, and then, three squares to the south on the King of Red Lions's carefully made sea chart, was the Western Triangle Island. The Eastern Triangle Island completed the triangle.

Link, awake and refreshed after an entire day spent sleeping, turned to it in curiosity as they passed it moving more slowly than the King of Red Lions would have liked. On it, a single statue made of what resembled corn or straw stood on what was essentially a triangular dais, set upon a triangular dais, rising from the triangular island. It was a vaguely humanoid statue, with a completely spherical head (but for a tuft of what would be corn silk or wheat chaff, were it not of stone, resting as a hat on the top, with what might be considered a hairband around it at the place where "hat" met head).

It looked very crude and primitive, with empty, black eyes, and no other features for a face. There was a symbol etched on its forehead, which Link could not see. The statue held out its hands, as if it were waiting for something, but other than these few features, the statue suffered a lack of detail or imagination. But for the arms sticking out as if waiting for something to be placed there, the statue was one homogenous mass, vaguely bell-shaped, and somehow inhuman in its attempts at mimicking humanity.

There was something eerie about it, and Link was glad to see the end of it, to continue south, and south, until lunchtime came, and he realised just how hungry he was, and that it was his first full meal in two days.

Several hours after this, as the sun was setting, they pulled up to a huge island towering into the air. The whole thing strongly resembled the trunk of a tree, although Link could see, upon closer inspection, that it was all of stone. It was something in the mottling, how the browns of the stone mimicked the grains in an average log of wood. These lower down ledges and cliffs could then be compared to the roots system, in addition to the island rising up from the sea to the northeast, which might have been a much younger tree, or which might have been a particularly adventurous root, snaking far away from its mother tree.

The island was not, of course, a tree, but it was easy to forget that.

On the coast a number of cliffs, just low enough that Link could jump or climb up them, led up to a pool of water. Tree branches, real ones, stuck out of the rock of the mainland, coming from trees hidden from his sight. A bright red postbox a few cliffs up surprised him with how out-of-place it seemed. Windfall was allowed to have a mailbox, Dragon Roost Island, too, for the irony of the thing, and of course Outset Island had one. But, in this remote place, he wondered who there even was to use a mailbox.

He jumped from the boat, and turned to look at the King of Red Lions, puzzled. Thankfully, he was much less tired now, and could focus on the King's words. It was easy enough to guess that he was about to get further instructions on what to do, and why they were here.

"This is the Forest Haven," the King of Red Lions began, and Link sat down on the edge of a cliff, because the King of Red Lions was almost never succinct. "At the top of these cliffs is a spring, which has existed for many centuries, and sustained by that spring are the spirits of the Forest, and their king, a huge talking tree known as the Great Deku Tree." Words could not adequately convey Link's sarcastic first impression to this. Something to the effect of, "of course, there's a talking tree", perhaps? He was starting to think that nothing could surprise him anymore.

"'What Forest?' you might ask; well it is a Forest that once thrived here, back before it was covered by the sea. There is still a forest, up there, around the Great Deku Tree, and his very existence sustains the woodlands and trees scattered across the Great Sea.

"The forest spirits, known as the koroks, are his attendants. Usually, the koroks are elsewhere, but I happen to know that every year on this very day, they fly in from the Great Sea, for miles around. It is a good thing, too, because I do not know who on this island might possess the item you seek. However, the Great Deku Tree should know. Ask him for Farore's Pearl, the Pearl sacred to the Goddess Farore, as Din's Pearl is sacred to the goddess of power. Make haste! Hurry! And then come right back here! We must find the three Pearls of the Goddesses as soon as possible, before Ganon's nefarious plans can come to fruition! Hurry!"

Link bowed to the boat, in response, and began without hesitation or asking any questions to scale the many cliffs. He had not come very far before what resembled a strange, fuchsia-and-dark-purple flower suddenly grew a stalk with a clamshell-shaped head scalloped in many very sharp teeth. He whacked it sharply on its head with Orca's sword, and it briefly stood up straight. That was when he cut the stem, as close to the "bud" as possible. The plant shriveled into a familiar wooden club. This must be whence came the wood of the bokoblins' clubs.

He continued on, climbing up the cliffs, whenever he encountered one, making his way, slowly, up the island.

Then, he came to a ledge that he couldn't jump to the other side of, especially since said "other side" was a swift-flowing waterfall. There was, however, a grassy embankment on the outer edge, and an intricately decorated block of wood that Link knew was meant for grappling hooks. It looked sturdier even than the wooden posts at Dragon Roost Island.

He pulled out the grappling hook, aiming it that the rope lap over itself, as it usually did, and let the force of his throw begin to carry him across.

And then, he noticed the rock sail past, beneath him, and the strange-looking creature popping out of the water.

The creature was several times bigger than he, mostly purple mottled with blue, with a huge, round head atop a much smaller body, and bright yellow eyes. There was a snout for a muzzle, on the otherwise round head, and from this snout, occasionally, popped great big stones, just like the ones sailing by beneath his feet. He thought it had four or five legs, as well, although he was in no position to count them.

He hastened to aim himself towards the verge of the lake, which was right above the waterfall. Safe on the bank, he rolled to avoid the stone and deaden the force of the impact, and pulled his shield off his back, holding it out in the same general direction as the octorok was. It always appeared in the exact same place.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, it popped back up, already shooting a rock at him. He held up the shield, which reflected the rock back at its originator. It collapsed back in on itself, and disappeared in a puff of black smoke, leaving Link to make the choice of whether to continue following the grassy verge, or to see what lay at the end of a path leading down. He chose to continue to follow the verge, and was rewarded, as it continued, unopposed, on a path up to a cave next to a lake, both of which came into sight just now….

Before he could reach it, however, he would need to swing across into the pond before the entrance, and thus Link replaced the shield on his back to draw out the grappling hook, which only became easier to use and more accurate, the more he used it. Predictably, the pond before the entrance had another of the odd-looking monsters. The cliffs were filled with the strange looking plants, so the verge wasn't bereft of monsters, either, but the water had rock-shooting monsters. Still, at least he was able to attack the violent flowers up-close. That made them slightly easier for him to deal with.

Link swung across, towards the pond, on the grappling hook, and then let momentum carry him back, dropping back onto the shore he had just left, and pulling the shield off his back, just in time. Then, he used the grappling hook again, letting the force of his swing carry him across, this time, and into the pool.

This pool was not, he saw, a pool, so much as it was a spring, whence all the water he had passed on his way up originated. He had swung over the waterfall that started the water on its rapid descent down the mountain, but here, before the beginning of a current could form, the water was very still. Standing where he was, he saw that a short corridor, no drier than the shallow pool in which he stood, seemed to open into some sort of chamber, which he could see only a little of, thanks to the continued presence of cliffs blocking his view.

There was nothing else for it. He would have to take a chance, and hope that no other monsters lay in wait.

Inside, it was strangely darkened. Looking up, he saw a canopy of leaves stretching out, blocking out the sunlight, ending only a few meters from the walls, at least as far as he could see. Tall cliffs that he would have to jump or climb up provided a makeshift path forwards. He was a bit concerned about the water running over them, a constant flow, arrested, mysteriously, by the doorway through which he had entered.

He seemed to be in a different, magic place, where life as he was accustomed to thinking of it behaved very differently, replaced with swift flowing waters that disappeared, lest they intrude upon the spring that lay just beyond. Nor did the solid stone he felt underfoot feel slippery. Perhaps, it would not be so dangerous, climbing the wet miniature waterfalls, after all.

Sure enough, he had little difficulty climbing the three cliffs, but now he tensed. No longer concerned with climbing wet rock, he had the liberty of looking around. To his left, tall trees reached for the sky, forming a part of the canopy he had seen. But, spread among them, and appearing also on the left, were a number of familiar, fuchsia-and-violet buds. Rather than giving one a chance for ambush (who knew if the plants could move?), he pulled himself onto the bank, and drew the sword at his side, stalking closer, and closer, and closer.

To his surprise, the plant did not react at all. No snarling, snapping plant monster emerged. Link, perhaps a bit recklessly, peered into the opening of the bud, and found what looked to be, from what he could tell, and see, an ordinary flower, filled with seeds and nectar. Perhaps, the plants outside, that had tried to kill him, had used their similarity to these plants as a camouflage? He would keep on alert, but these flowers, at least, did not seem violent.

Somewhat embarrassed, and rather glad that no one was watching (except Tetra, who must be angry that he still had hold of her pendant; he'd return it if ever they meet again), he gazed around in wonder, now, at the peaceful, tranquil forest. Fireflies flitted about. Some among them changed through all the colours of the rainbow as he watched. Unconcerned fish swam past his feet, as the water made a relaxing, splashing noise. It brought upon him a strange sort of homesickness. Here, he felt a glimmer of the peaceful ease of his childhood, the time before Aryll was abducted. But, Outset lacked the majesty of this magic woods.

After the cliffs, there were no great distances to climb, but instead, a series of very broad steps, slowly making their way, as he swiftly perceived, to a giant tree, which he decided must be the Great Deku Tree even before he saw that it had a face.

The broad leaves (as broad as a full-grown man, lying down) of some sort of water plant floated in front of the tree, which Link realised was moving on its own. Its face was very long, unsurprisingly, with a prominent chin, and deep-set eyes, lined with creases that suggested great wisdom. He found himself reminded of Sturgeon.

But, as he approached, a number of green and red blobs began to seep out of their hiding places in the wood, reacting to his presence. The Great Deku Tree was under attack!

Remembering Orca's lessons, and moreover, how often Sturgeon had yelled up at his brother about how Orca's rolling into the wall of their shared home had dislodged Sturgeon's pots (which had then shattered), he rolled into the base of the very solid tree, and then spun around, sword drawn in one hand, the other hand already reaching back for his shield.

Mercifully, these were only chuchus, and not some greater, heretofore unknown threat. He understood, now, how they moved and acted, and could make short work of them. They left behind globs of goo, and Link, hesitant, dumped out the bottle of water he had acquired at Dragon Roost Island, and stuffed a glob or two of red jelly in. It could come in useful, after all.

Then, remembering what he was supposed to be doing, he turned to face the Tree, who didn't seem to see him. Well, after all, even a tree with a chin couldn't just bend its neck to look down at him. Could it?

Looking for a way to climb into the Tree's eyesight, he happened to walk on one of the huge leaves he had noticed earlier. Immediately, it rose up into the air on its own. He was surprised at how sturdy the organic platform felt underfoot, and wondered if, perhaps, the Great Deku Tree was capable of a greater range of motion than Link had previously assumed.

As he came into the Tree's line of sight, it spoke, in a deep rumbling, masculine voice, if Link could judge such a thing as regarded trees. Unfortunately, the Tree was speaking some other, unfamiliar language. Link took a moment to try to let it sink in, as the Tree sounded quite happy and eager, but the language grew no more familiar.

"I'm sorry. What are you saying? I can't understand you," he said, at last. He hoped that the Tree understood Modern Hylian, or his quest was doomed before it started.

"Ah, do forgive me," said the Tree. "When I saw you standing before me, I was reminded of another who wore clothes similar to yours, dressed all in green…. I thought, for a few moments, he had returned, and the thought of the old days brought an old language to my lips…."

Link could barely contain his excitement at what the Tree was saying, for surely, when he spoke of another who dressed as Link was now dressed, he must have meant the Hero of Time…right? But, how old was the Tree, if that were the case, and how did the Tree know the Hero of Time?

Perhaps, there had merely been a child or two who had sailed away from Outset Island, as he had, on his birthday, and the Tree had met them. But, it didn't sound as if that were what the Tree was saying. He stared at the Tree, eager to hear more about the Legendary Hero, but the Tree seemed to have finished talking about the old days.

"Why have you come, young man? You have saved me from Ganon's curse, and I am grateful. These monsters were set upon me by the wizard-thief Ganon, and for a time, unable to defend myself as I was, I feared that I would die, and the forests of the world die with me. There is something about you that I trust. Tell me what you desire, and I will see what I can do to assist you."

"The King of Red Lions sent me," Link said, hesitant, "He told me to ask you for Farore's Pearl."

"Is that so? He means, then, to open the Tower of the Gods, and test your mettle…well, it seems that I have the new hero in my domain! Haha, very good. I will give you Farore's Pearl, but first, I must ask you to wait for the ceremony, the power by which we usher in growth for all plants across the Great Sea, and by which we greet the new year!"

"'We'?'" Link repeated, a bit confused and at a loss for words. Looking around, he saw no one else, of whom the Tree might have been speaking.

"Ah, yes!" the Tree said. "You will have to forgive them, but the koroks are ever-so-scared of strangers. Once upon a time, they took on human shapes, before the land was covered in water, but during the flood, I gave them new forms more suited for life upon the sea, and they have forgotten. Come out, my children! Do not be afraid of the swordsman, for he is a friend! Come out, and let us not delay the festival!"

And now, high above, a multitude of diminutive figures (waist-height, if that) appeared, soaring through the sky on what appeared to be leaves speared on sticks like umbrellas. Link stared at the sight, as eight or nine of the strange, woody creatures flew down, lower and lower, circling round the Great Deku Tree on their way.

As they fell, or rather, descended, Link could see them more clearly. They had the same, mottled brown colouring as the "tree" of which the island was made, and Link reconsidered if the island hadn't once been a living tree. They were very stout for their heights, and had pointed ears at the tops of their heads, like horns. Their faces were covered by masks shaped and coloured like the leaves of different kinds of trees, some of which Link recognised, and others which he didn't. These were the spirits of the Forest, the koroks, and Link felt honoured and privileged, to be able to meet them. He sensed that not many had such an opportunity. A sense of awe filled the forest, and a hush of reverence towards the approaching festival.

And then, a last korok appeared, high up, completely ignoring Link, to squeal at the Great Deku Tree in a high-pitched, anxious voice.

"Great Deku Tree! It's an emergency! It's Makar! Although I reminded him that you told us not to, he insisted upon flying over the Forbidden Woods. But, that is not the worst of it. A monster in the woods reached out and grabbed him with long tentacles, and he fell into the woods. I don't know what happened after that. I was so scared it would get me, too, that I came right to you to tell you!"

The korok landed on a leaf, high up in the Great Deku Tree's branches. The Tree had been rumbling to itself from when the korok had first mentioned the Forbidden Woods. Now, it gave the shout of a parent whose child is in danger, which, Link supposed, was more-or-less the case.

"WHAT?!" the Great Deku Tree roared. For a split second, he was silent, before continuing to scold the korok, who was shivering already with fear. "How many times have I told you koroks to avoid the Forbidden Woods? There are many monsters in there, ever since you were forced to flee, and Kalle Demos, the mother of monsters, is not the least of them. That must have been its tentacles which caused Makar's fall. Well, we must postpone the festival, now! We cannot hold the festival with even one korok missing, but especially not the one whose song greets the new year! What were you thinking, Linder?"

The korok, apparently named Linder, said nothing, making high-pitched distressed squeals instead.

"My apologies to you, hero," said the Deku Tree, apparently now remembering that they had a guest watching. "It appears you must wait to be given the Pearl. But, if I could ask a favour from you, I would request that you venture into the Forbidden Woods, and see if you can discover what has become of Makar. If you are able, please find him, and bring him safe back here. Will you do this?"

Link felt that this seemed a more even trade. After all, he had been obligated to enter Dragon Roost Cavern and defeat the monster known as Gohma, in order to save Valoo. Surely, he could not have received the Pearl of Farore merely for slaying a few chuchus. But now, an unforeseen problem in the plan was revealed.

"But, Great Deku Tree, this swordsman cannot fly, and he is too heavy for us koroks to carry him!" cried Linder, and the Deku Tree replied with a contemplative frown.

"It is true…" he said. There were a few moments of silence, in which Link, suddenly impatient, fidgeted. Then, he noticed one of the tree's leaves rising out from among its fellows, until it was plucked clean off its stem. It was a healthy, triangular leaf, spade-shaped. It was very broad throughout, and then narrowed abruptly into a tip.

"I think that I will be able to help you. This leaf will draw on the inherent magic you have within you, and will enable you to fly, bringing you one step closer to being able to use magic at will as it does.

"Be careful, people who use too much magic for too long without replenishing it will find that the toll is taken from their energy. If you find yourself becoming fatigued, seek out recovery potions, fairies, or the naturally occurring potion vials, which grow in special profusion among the white and pink flowers on the island that lies halfway between the Forest Haven and the Forbidden Woods."

Link stared, trying to soak all of the new information in. He would be able to fly, on his own power? It would draw from innate magic that all people had within them? An island, with naturally occurring potions growing on flowers? It was a lot to remember. And, just how was he supposed to get all the way up there to retrieve the leaf, to begin with?

"Speak to the koroks, and they will help you to find your way to the Forbidden Woods. I am sorry, hero, to ask such a thing of you. I am afraid, however, that there is no one else to ask for such assistance."

The floating leaf lowered, still with him on it, until it once more touched the water, and Link looked around for the koroks.

Many of them stood in the small forest surrounding the Great Deku Tree, and each was so short that it was very hard indeed to see them, unless they made a noise. He made his way over to one, as the Great Deku Tree suggested, and noted, wary, that it was standing before one of the fuchsia-and-violet flowers. It chittered at him as he approached, and then spoke in a shrill, high-pitched voice.

"Ah, swordsman! Perhaps I can assist you. You must be wondering how to reach the gift that the Great Deku Tree has for you. Well, wonder no more!

"Do you see this flower?" Link wondered how he could not see the flower, even if a number identical to it hadn't attempted to eat him as he had made the dangerous trek up the mountain, but merely nodded in response to the korok's response, ever polite. Grandma would be proud. "This is a flower known as a boko bud. If you jump inside it, it will launch you high into the air! There are even some that can launch you twice as high!

"But, be careful: sometimes you see monsters that camouflage themselves as boko buds, called 'boko babas', but they are impatient, for all their clever camouflage, so I don't think you'll have trouble telling them apart. They're mostly underground anyway. The Great Deku Tree grows in magical water, and within this sacred space of the remains of the past Great Deku Tree, no evil can take root. And, that includes boko babas! Give it a try, swordsman!"

Link still had a few misgivings about the entire affair, but felt that he might as well trust the innocent-seeming koroks, if he trusted the Deku Tree, and that he might as well trust the Deku Tree, if he trusted the King of Red Lions, and there had been no real cause to mistrust him thus far. He stepped, gingerly, into the flower, and it sucked him down inside. He wondered if it had been a mistake, trusting the flower.

"You can twist around within the plant to control the direction in which you shoot out. But, if you misjudge direction, just stay still and let yourself fall back in!" the excitable korok instructed him. Link was surprised at how easily he could hear the korok, from within the fibrous walls of the plant.

Then, there was no more time for thinking, as he shot up, high into the air. He was surprised by how high up he flew. Although, not as surprised as he was to see another boko bud, seemingly growing atop a pole, nearby. He wondered if the flowers were organic, or the magical relics of some outmoded form of transportation.

It was, loath thought he was to admit it, incredibly fun, launching into the air via boko bud. But, he was loath to admit it, because it seemed quite childish.

He grabbed onto the boko bud with one hand, and pulled himself in. This time, he noticed the strange, powdery cough that the plant emitted right before launching him into the air. This would be his cue, he decided, as he rolled through the air, landing effortlessly in the next boko bud.

He saw the platform of Deku Tree leaves that was holding up the gift leaf from the Great Deku Tree, and was surprised at the speed of his ascent. He wished, at that moment, that there were boko buds scattered across the Great Sea; that they had been tamed and cultivated, and grew from Outset, far to the Southwest, to Dragon Roost Island, in the far northeast. It would be a fun and swift way to get from one place to the other. Not very safe, however.

He hit the leaf platform rather hard, but the damage was spread out. Most of the shock was absorbed by his feet, and up his legs almost to his waist. He did not hit his head or hurt his back at all, which he considered at least part luck. The boko buds compressed him, folding him into a curled-up ball which was very aerodynamic, and the force of his ejection sent him, inevitably, spinning in loops. It was not quite luck that his bottom half took the brunt of the blow, but still too near of a thing.

Still, he shrugged, thinking that there was time to feel his injuries later, and walked over to the leaf, with a glance at the korok standing just as effortlessly as he upon the platform of leaves. He wondered how such thin cover was able to support him, but the lightweight koroks took such sturdiness as would support them for granted. There would be no answers from that quarter. He did ask the korok for directions on how to get to the path to the Forbidden Woods, and the korok waved his comparatively short, skinny arm around, pointing out the boko bud route upwards. Somewhere high above was a cliff through which daylight would have seeped, were it not now night.

"And, how do I use this leaf?" he asked, still a bit perplexed by all the new information.

Now, the Great Deku Tree spoke, as if he were still on the leaf down, surprisingly far, below.

"This leaf ought to work rather like the leaves I have given to my children, the koroks. Just hold one end of the leaf in each hand, and use your altitude to glide down to a lower area. Sadly, you are, being human, too heavy for a leaf with the ability of full flight; this is the best I can do for you. Please take it, and may if be of use to you, on both of your quests."

Link had not honestly expected the Great Deku Tree to hear him up here—he had even jumped, a bit, startled, when the Tree addressed him—but now that he knew that the Tree could hear him, he would take advantage of that knowledge.

"Thank you for the gift, Great Deku Tree. I am sure that it will come in useful on my quests," he said, as formally as he could manage, as the Tree seemed to appreciate old-time manners. He had sounded rather ungrateful before, hadn't he?

If the Tree gave another response, he didn't hear it, but he was sure that it heard him. It made sense, in a way, that the Tree would be able to hear and see everything around it. Who knew where a plant's eyes and ears were? Perhaps, what he had spoken with down below had only resembled a face, or perhaps the old tree had something of the uncanny awareness he had seen Sturgeon display—a sort of sixth sense around his surroundings.

Link pondered it, in some confusion, and then turned his attention to the boko bud that was (most probably) just within jumping distance. He backed up to the opposite edge of the canopy (just in case) in order to get a running start—and then ran as hard as he could, pushing off the platform, hoping that he could reach the boko bud.

He overshot, and found himself falling toward the ground far below—but he still had the Great Deku Tree's leaf (he decided to call it the Deku Leaf), and he instantly had it up over his head, where it caught a pocket of air, enabling him to glide back to the missed boko bud.

The experience was very much like flight, and Link decided that he quite appreciated the Great Deku Tree's gift. It was as close to flight as someone without wings could get.

He stuffed the enchanted leaf under his armpit as the boko bud swallowed him, and was unsurprised to find it undamaged when he was launched high in the air again.

It was easier, now, to follow the trail up, and up, and up, with the assurance that if he mistimed or misdirected a jump, he could use the boko bud to, at the very least, make his way to a lower flower, and try again. That did not mean that he forgot what the Great Deku Tree had said about magical energy, and he did not use the ability lightly.

Eventually, he found himself at the very last boko bud, unsure of his final destination. He jumped in and out of the bud several times, to ensure that there truly were no more flowers to follow, and then looked for a possible new destination.

There! Over on that far-away cliff! That entrance seemed to lead to the outside, and he was only aware of one other door to the outside—that whence he had entered.

He waited until his expulsion had reached its peak, and then whipped the Deku Leaf out from under his armpit, each hand supporting one side. Slowly, he began to glide towards the far away landing. He hoped that it was his destination.

Thankfully, there was another korok waiting for him. He let go one side of the leaf—so cautiously, in case he wasn't over ground yet—and landed, rather hard, on his feet, before the korok. There was some grass nearby, and Link wondered what sort of things might be hiding in it. He thought he remembered finding all sorts of odd things in grass. He wondered if the Great Deku Tree might not be offended by him cutting down any sort of plant in the Forest Haven, and reconsidered cutting the grass inside. He was sure there would be more grass outside, anyway.

He approached the korok, who chittered at him, much as the other had, and wondered how to phrase his next question. He didn't have to ask, as it turned out.

"The exit leading to the Forbidden Woods is just this way, swordsman!" said the korok, in his high-pitched voice, and Link smiled, at that question answered, at least, and thanked the korok, bowing as he did, which seemed to please the diminutive creature immensely.

Outside the Forest Haven was lit by the full moon up above, covering the forbidding looking woods, gloomy and dark, to the northeast. Between those Forbidden Woods and the platform upon which he now stood, a smaller island stood out of the sea. It was, indeed, tiny, and located about due north. If Link could judge, from that island, the Forbidden Woods would be due northeast.

How would he get enough altitude to get there? Well, if all else failed, he could use the Deku Leaf to soften his fall into the water, and climb the cliffs back into the Forest Haven, and try everything again. But, he was leary of leaving Makar that long.

He wondered how the koroks sustained flight for so long, but guessed that it was their lesser weight, and perhaps a greater amount of magic. Right now, he could almost sense that he didn't have enough magical reserves to make it all the way to the Forbidden Woods. He would have to hope that the island had recovery vials. And, making his way back up the mountain would take less time than trying to climb the Forbidden Woods—assuming he didn't drown, with no land in sight, on the open sea. But, he didn't have a choice except to trust that there was some way to recover altitude upon departing from the island.

First things first: if the Deku Leaf were governed by wind (and, outdoors, it ought to be) then, he could manipulate the task more to his favour. He pulled out the Wind Waker, pointing to the left with one hand, and up, left, right with the other. When he pointed to the North to indicate that he wished for the wind to blow in that direction, he again heard the quiet tune that the wind seemed to hum.

There was no time to think on it right now. With a sigh, he jumped off the cliff, whipping out the Deku Leaf at the peak of his jump to take advantage of as much height as possible. Slowly, almost agonisingly so, he sailed towards the distant island. He suspected that, had it been possible to swim or walk to the island, it would have been a much shorter trip. But eventually, after his arms ached with the effort of holding up the Deku Leaf, he came near the island. He could see a cloud of distortion passing nearby, and narrowed his eyes, wondering what it was.

His question was answered when, a short time later, he came into contact with it, and was sent soaring up to the sky.

This would have come in useful, were it not for the depletion of his magical energy, combined with the fact that he now needed to redirect the wind to the northeast. He steadfastly followed his path to the smaller island. When he came close enough, he removed one hand from the Deku Leaf, and began to plummet.

In the last few seconds, he managed to grab hold of the leaf again, mere feet from impact. It jarred his shoulder to go from plummeting to suddenly being borne aloft, again, by the wind, which did nothing to help his already aching arms. He needed those magical recovery vials, and something to help him recover his energy. He wished that he had the time to sleep. He had had quite the workout today.

Instead, he looked around at the island, surprised to find that a korok had arrived here before him. Why would one come this way at all? If someone on Outset had been kidnapped….

These thoughts prompted a grim grin, despite his fatigue. He had thought that the proper answer (what anyone would do) would be to hide with the rest of his fellows.

But, that wasn't what he had done when Aryll had been kidnapped, was it? And, unless he were much mistaken, these koroks were as close as siblings. It was only natural that they would face a greater risk than they were comfortable with, to try to save one of their own. He smiled, bowing in greeting, and the korok chittered in response.

The first thing he did was to cut some of the flowers he saw growing in profusion throughout the island (there were also a couple of trees, and quite a lot of grass). The korok watched him cut the flowers down, revealing the vials hidden in their stems. (How did that work? how? how?) He wasted no time in downing the foul-tasting green liquid within. He suspected it was some manner of organic component similar to chu jelly, which might mean the apothecaries' legendary potion might taste just as foul. But, they worked, at the very least. He felt something he was almost aware of, within himself, grow in strength. Magic.

When he felt as if he had enough magical energy to cross to the Forbidden Woods, he left the poor white flowers alone, and decided he might as well speak with the korok, now. Said korok stood carelessly near the islet's edge, gazing at the Forbidden Woods, back now turned to Link. Despite having his back turned, he still seemed quite aware of Link's approach. He spoke, still facing away from Link, who came to stand beside him.

"Centuries and millennia ago, our predecessors lived in that now dark forest. It was a vibrant place, then, filled with life. Now, it is overgrown, uninhabitable, unrecognisable, I suspect, even to those ancestors. But, the remains of the houses in which they dwelt when they still took on human shapes should still remain. If you find yourself overwhelmed by the evil within those woods, seek out their tree houses. Some of the Great Deku Tree's old protections may yet remain there. It might even be a place in which you could recover your strength.

"And, beware. I see that near the ledge entrance to the Woods, there are peahats flying around. They use kargaroc feathers to fly, so if you have a weapon that could attack them from a distance—?" Link shook his head, hand on his sword, seeking after what comfort it seemed to offer. "Then be very careful on your journey. That is all the advice I have to offer you, swordsman."

Link nodded, grateful, and bowed. "Thank you for your advice. You have been very helpful indeed."

The korok chittered in a pleased sort of way. "Good luck, swordsman."

Link nodded, and pulled out the Wind Waker, conducting now almost without thinking. Up, left, right. He pointed in the direction of the Forbidden Woods. Due northeast, he thought to himself, and the wind hummed its little tune. The korok didn't seem to notice, despite his proximity, and Link wondered about the baton. Was he only imagining the sound of the singing wind? Was the korok merely distracted, or accustomed to strange happenings?

But, there wasn't time for analysis. There wasn't even time enough for his poor arms to heal and to recover their strength. He pulled out the telescope Aryll had lent him, and stared across the water, to the air above the Forbidden Woods, watching the specks of squat, compact monsters flying through the air. They spiraled around, paths crossing, but never intersecting. It was hard to see them, even with the telescope at it strongest setting. The Forbidden Woods was very far away, and there was no tracking their movements. All he could do was to hope that they not be in his path when he came to the ledge.

He put away the telescope, thanked the korok again for his help, and launched himself into the air, again pulling out the Leaf at the apex of his jump. He had been watching the aerial distortion out of the corner of his eye as he had cut down the flowers, and while he had spoken with the korok, and now he saw it coming his way. He manoeuvred the Leaf in its direction, and was carried high up into the air. For the moment, even the entrance-ledge to the Forbidden Woods seemed far below him.

Of course, the closer he came, the lower he was necessarily brought, pulled seawards. His arms ached with the strain of holding up the Leaf, and now he was beginning to be distracted by the choppy sound of the rotating feathers of the peahats.

He could see them, now, if he glanced around. They were swifter than he, but short, squat, and small. The bulbous body was brown on the top, shading into orange on the bottom, and two golden feathers of kargarocs whirled over their bulbous bodies. A great blue-green eye near the top of the body made him wonder, idly, if they were bodiless heads, or headless bodies. It was a silly thought to be having at the moment, but he needed a bit of silliness, perhaps, to help him calm down. They were so fast!

Still, he managed to avoid them well enough, falling to the ground, and rolling to absorb the rest of the damage. He wished for some manner of projectile weapon, but nothing could be done about his lack. At least he had made it to the entrance unharmed. What lay beyond (within) was ominously black. He couldn't see the inside at all, as if there were a door blocking the way, or some other opaque object. On the other hand, the longer he stayed here, the greater the risk that the peahats would see him, and they were capable of genuine flight. He wasn't ready to fight a monster that took advantage of its ability to fly, yet.

And thus, hoping for the best, he rolled up the Deku Leaf, and, sticking it into his boots for safe-keeping (he had the sense he'd have great need of it within the koroks' former home), he hurried down the dark passageway.

Once inside, he soon became disoriented. He had expected absolute darkness, or perhaps light filtered from the moon, high above. He had been expecting a realm of tall trees, as in the Forest Haven, stretching limbs and leaves to the sky—the trees on the inside, at least. The trees on the outside would be all withered and dead, as if it were winter. He had expected waterfalls, and lakes, and, as he thought of it now, a dark mimicry of the Forest Haven.

The Forbidden Woods was not at all similar. An omnipresent, even light—or something that passed for light—filled the room. There were no shadows. There were no trees. And all was green, and shrouded in a green mist.

The eerie green flowed through the huge chamber in which he found himself, hiding the way forwards, although he could still see the far side of the room. It flowed around the walls, and the doors. It flowed along the floor, and made an artificial ceiling as it concentrated in the upper air.

And, it flowed through him, breathed in as he inhaled, but not breathed out in his exhale. It made him feel misty, and distant, as if nothing mattered. Lethargy filled him, and a keen sense of loss.

Knowledge slipped from his grasp, and he stood there, in the entrance, thinking, but there were no thoughts. He stared straight ahead, and noticed a flower, the same odd blue-green as all the monsters he had of late been encountering.

Now, he had a thought that gave him pause, for he had almost forgotten the monsters, and the quest, and Makar, whom he had come here to rescue. The air was heavy with loss and nostalgia, but Link managed to force himself to put one foot forward, and then the next.

Those who get lost in the woods become stalfoi.

He heeded the warning in the voice. It would not do to get lost, not in this place, where he had so quickly been distracted. It would be the death of him.

He was wandering over to the flower, without knowing why, when he almost ran into a pinecone, half as tall as he was himself. It was a very round pinecone, and had no prominent slats, as normal pinecones did. He almost wouldn't have thought it was a pinecone at all, but rather some sort of nut, but he was sure, strangely sure, that a pinecone it was, regardless of all appearance.

It was sitting on the floor, and out of place, and thus he picked it up. There was no more complexity to his thought than that. It was heavier than he expected, somehow, but felt hollow, and he was almost smug, as if this had confirmed its identity as a pinecone to him.

He meandered over to the flower. Everything was a puzzle, he thought, as the flower, clinging by long, snaking vines across a doorway, closed up its blue-green bud at his approach. He had no ranged weapons, and he couldn't slash at it with his sword. He set down his pinecone to try to cut it, awkwardly, a few times, but the vines must have been made of the toughest material in the world, because he couldn't so much as scratch them with the sword.

Again, without thinking about it, he backed up, and waited until the flower opened again. He had thought that it might. Sentient things often behaved thus. And, it wasn't as if the flower had eyes to see that he had a weapon, of sorts, even one capable of damage from a distance. Only capable of damage from a distance.

He threw the pinecone, and there was a smacking sound as it hit the flower dead on, crushing it, and the leaves and the vines fell off, and the flower could no longer cling to the door.

There was a door, and it was decorated with a red spiral design, one that he thought that he should recognise, but the significance of it eluded him, unless it was betrayed by how his right hand reached back, for a moment, towards the shield on his back.

There was no handle to the door, but Link, unperturbed, knelt down, and dug into the ground at the bottom, and pulled up the door. It stayed up.

There was a boring, two-toned wooden chest there, just like the ones in which he had found the silvery keys back in Dragon Roost Cavern, and he made a mental note of that, and was unsurprised when he kicked open the chest to see an old, antiqued key lying within. He suspected that if the Dragon Roost Cavern had had a mind of its own, so too did this place, but this place was set against him, unlike the Cavern, which had welcomed his influence, and the sword that had worked to purge it of monsters. This place was under the thrall of Kalle Demos, and older monsters, older spells.

He didn't doubt this knowledge, but accepted it, unquestioning, as he came away from the door.

The pinecone had rolled away after it hit, heading for some far corner of the room, but now another, undamaged, stood in the spot the one he had thrown had originally been, before he had picked it up. It, too, was huge, and brown, and resembled some sort of nut that Link thought that he ought to recognise, but nevertheless didn't. He dismissed the thought as unimportant, and picked up the giant pinecone, idly glancing into the corner, unsurprised to find that there was no pinecone there.

He noticed the decline from the entrance into the main chamber only when he almost tripped on it, and was forced to walk a bit deeper into the chamber to get around it. There was a door—facing the entrance—at the far side of the room, and another door, also covered by another flower, in the other corner.

He didn't approach; he merely stood back and threw the pinecone at it. The pinecone rolled away, and most likely disappeared into thin air, leaving the door exposed. He bent down, and opened this new door.

It led him to a small enclosure, like the one on the other side of the room. There was an ornate chest, there, wood inlaid with gold, inset with an emerald in the centre near the catch, and a number of smaller carnelians. The map? Most likely.

He twisted the swivel-clasp, and was unsurprised to find a map. All of it was a sketch, but for the entryway, in which he now stood. This was shaded in with green.

He rolled up the map, and stuffed it into the messenger bag. This dungeon was more confusing than Dragon Roost Cavern, but the map was useful. The next chamber was twice the size of this one, and had one exit—straightforward, but the next room had two exits, one to the left, and one to the right.

He was confident that his way would be barred either to left or to right, and, judging by what he had seen from his glimpse of the map, it would be the door to the right. It was in how the left series of passageways eventually dead-ended, whereas the right contained a marker for stairs. (They weren't necessarily stairs, it was just a way of saying that there would be a way to travel up or down, there.) Then, there had been a set of stairs near the top of the section of the map labeled 1B. Logically, as he was on 1F now, the "stairs" headed down, and the right-hand path was more complicated.

Of course, he could be wrong.

He realised that he had been standing, staring, at the door before him for the past thirty seconds, or so, and bent down to pull it open.

Beyond was another green-mist-filled room, but here, it was less concentrated, and he felt, comparatively speaking, normal, if a bit vague. Although, he wasn't sure that he knew what normal meant, anymore.

This room was much more frustrating than the last, and he almost missed the green mist. Its higher density in the previous room had almost seemed to guide him, but he had little idea on what to do with two platforms, suspended by ropes from a non-existent ceiling, hovering over an abyss (one that he was sure was bottomless, despite knowing that there was a floor right beneath the one he was now standing in).

Clearly, the platforms moved across the abyss, pulled by the ropes in the ceiling. The question was: how? How could he bring that platform he could see—standing, quite still, in the middle of the room—across to him? There was also a strange, green…thing sitting off to the side. The green thing looked as if it might be the key. Squinting, he could see another, just like it, on the far side of the room. It was a rather odd device, to be sitting right next to the platforms over the abyss. It looked to be on a base, and capable of turning.

Link pulled out the Deku Leaf, and sent a gust of air in its direction, surprised at how powerful of a draught the Leaf created. The contraption spun, and the platform made a strange, clicking noise as it began its journey in his direction, not pausing a moment when it came to the edge, before hastening back whence it had come, and then heading back towards him once it had come to the far side.

Link realised that the clicking noise wasn't coming from the platform and ropes, but rather from the strange green spinning thing, only as its spinning began to slow. The platform stopped, with startling abruptness, halfway between its initial position, and the cliff where Link still stood.

He sent another, less violent, gust of wind towards the green spinning thing. (He needed a better name for it—the platform pusher, perhaps? No, that was stupid.) The platform moved at a sedate pace towards him, and he stepped on, allowing it to carry him across the abyss to the second platform. He hastened to jump onto the second platform before the one he was on could start back to the entrance of the room. Then, he turned to face the other green spinning-platform-carrying-mechanism. The—spinner. It would have to do for a name, for now. He faced the spinner, and sent a gust of air its way, and it spun, sending the platform flying across the gap with such speed that he almost lost his balance, and he waited for it to slow, grabbing onto the platform's triangular frame to support himself.

The moment that it began to slow, he jumped across onto the platform on the far side, staring at the door. Left or right? Perhaps the room itself was more complicated than it looked on the map (which hadn't shown an abyss, or the ramp leading down from the dungeon entrance). He bent down, and pulled open the door, entering the next room.

Now, he noticed the lack of monsters for the first time. He was on a ledge over a steep, but very short, drop. He could see a ramp leading up the other side of the hole—which was square-cut and unnatural, rather like the lava pits back in Dragon Roost Cavern. He assumed that there was a ramp on his side, too, but there was no way to skip over the gap, and within the small space patrolled two moblins.

He sighed, resigned to the wear on his already battered arms. He could feel the magical energy returning to his body—he sensed that that was at least part of what he was inhaling along with the green mist—but his physical energy remained where it was, and his arms still ached.

He reached for the sword at his side, and the shield on his back, and hoped that the moblins would just not notice him. He wasn't sure that he was ready for such a battle right now, not equipped as he was.

He crept down the slope, sneaking past the moblins, beneath their range of vision.

Of course, they relied predominantly on smell. He stood up from his crouch, backflipping to gain some distance, as soon as he realised that one had noticed him, given its rather alarmed grunting noise.

Perhaps it was the mist, but he felt calm, even in the face of such of threat, and the promise of another on its way. He found himself waiting, shield held out at the ready (why hadn't he used his shield more before, fighting the moblins last time? Because Orca hadn't taught him?), sword held out before him in a defensive position.

The moblin lashed out, and he twisted the shield against the spear, pushing the weapon away, and counterattacking, landing in two or three good blows before the moblin managed to twist away, recovering, and swiping with the spear now. Link realised that it was trying a similar trick to the one he had just used, and grimaced. His right hand was strong enough, but he was sure that it couldn't withstand a right-handed human, let alone a monster. He pushed back against the spear to make the monster think that he was falling for the trick, and held the shield in place as he backed up again.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the other moblin hadn't noticed him. He took advantage of his current opponent's brief moment of confusion with a jump attack, cutting through the unprotected chest, and watching as the moblin disappeared into a puff of black smoke, that then condensed into a black ball. Huh. He didn't recall seeing those before.

He broke the thing open with his sword, noticing miniature red vials, like the green vials he had seen on the islet. If these were natural red medicine, then they were definitely what he needed. It was a bit disturbing that they were shaped like hearts, but he wasn't about to complain. He needed his energy.

The taste was salty and slightly tangy, but not as bad as the red medicine, which had always unsettled him when he had seen it in shops. It was an alarming shade of red—one that made him concerned as to what its ingredients were. It turned out it was merely the essence of a slimy monster. Well, alright, put that way, it didn't sound that much better than what he had previously suspected, but it was a start.

He downed at least five of the horrid vials in quick succession, feeling his blood pound, fatigue he hadn't consciously noticed driven away by new energy. It was no replacement for sleep, of course, but it would do, for now. At least he had recovered his energy, and his arms no longer hurt.

It was a good thing that he was now recovered, because here came the second moblin, on alert, with the spear held out and ready to jab at him. He looked longingly at the ramp up to the other side, but hastened to draw his sword and shield again. The monster's offensive pose left it open to an attack from Link, who managed to get in more and deeper hits before this moblin could react.

He backflipped, again, to gain some distance, and held his sword out and to the side, focusing magical energy into it. As the moblin approached, he felt it burn blue. The moblin was hit with the full force of a spin attack, which was at least as powerful as a jump attack, infused as it was with magic. It burnt in deep, and the moblin staggered back, before disappearing in a puff of black smoke, which again condensed into a black ball. Strange.

Left behind in the first ball had been several heart potions, a few rupees, a necklace of skull pendant and orange and blue beads that seemed to be fashionable among moblins these days, and even a few magic vials. No bombs, Link noticed, or arrows. It was as if whatever force created these black balls knew what was in his inventory, and what he couldn't carry. He decided not to be concerned.

The second black ball held similar items, but more of them. Link wished that he could pack some of the heart potions to take with him, but didn't want to risk broken glass in his messenger bag. They were made of canvas, after all, and furthermore, ironically enough, the broken glass of a broken life-potion bottle might do more harm than good, if it broke.

Now, Link climbed up the ramp, and took in the choice before him. He could see neither door from here, but he doubted anything stopped him from examining both more closely.

He headed towards the left-hand passage first, to find an unlocked door, and beyond it, a room that initially seemed empty save for the grass, but, as he walked forwards, he noticed the sudden, abrupt descent into a trench, and blinking up at him were what looked to be hundreds of prickly, one-eyed creatures.

As he came close enough to peer over the side, several of them jumped forwards (although how they did this was a mystery to Link; they had no legs). Bright orange eyes the colours of the tips of their spikes blinked balefully at him. They could not reach him—he was too high up—but that did not stop their attempts.

Unfortunately, the other side of the ledge was too high for him to sail across with the Deku Leaf, and the platform had a conspicuous ramp leading up the other ledge; a glance to his left showed him a similar ramp leading up on his side. Sighing, he aimed a gust of air with the Deku Leaf in the direction of the morths, and they scattered before it as if they were made of paper. Perhaps, they would not be dangerous, after all.

A glance to his right showed him a ladder hanging above an alcove. It did not have any visible means of support, and Link came to the conclusion that the only solution was to kill every one of these tiny blinking morths; he suspected that, even had he been able to reach the ladder, he could not have pulled it down. Dungeons were odd.

This would be tedious, but delaying would gain him nothing. He dropped down into the trench, and discovered some of the morths that had hidden from sight, eluding the blast of air from the Deku Leaf. They latched onto his clothing, and, as they did, multiplied in weight at least a hundredfold. He wished vainly for a projectile weapon, and rolled to dislodge the surprisingly smooth and non-prickly spikes, whacking at each one with his sword. It was slow going, given their propensity for latching onto him whenever he came too close. A spin attack worked just as well as rolling to dislodge them, and he could occasionally hit a few of them as they rolled away. Nevertheless, it was time-consuming, infuriating work.

When he had hunted down the last one, the ladder dropped down from the wall, landing solidly in the moss, stable, and just tall enough for him to reach the inside of the alcove. Within was a plain wooden treasure chest, which he kicked open to find another antiqued silver key. He suspected that he would need to use every single key within this dungeon, and was glad that he had taken the time.

The room beyond was filled with red and green chuchus, and the door at the other end was locked. That door led to a room so mysterious that he was obliged to pull out the dungeon map. He was unsurprised to find that the rooms through which he had passed were now shaded in green, although they had been mere sketches before. He accepted this fact. It wasn't worth the mental bother of trying to figure out how that worked. Dungeon maps always seemed to behave thus.

The room in which he now stood did not have a marker for stairs, despite that he could see on the map (which had conveniently shaded in this room not only on the floor on which he now stood, but on a floor below, and the one above, as well) that it connected three floors. There did not seem to be anything of interest below—save for a couple of boko babas, or boko buds, and a pool of water. Nor was there anything of interest on the floor upon which he now stood, as far as he could tell. There was, however, a suspicious alcove on the floor above. He pulled the Deku Leaf out of his boot once more, glancing around the room as he did.

A series of boko buds (this they almost assuredly were, on their tiny islands) led up to the floor he was on. Then, a boko bud sitting on an island gave him a way to cross to the cliff on the other side of the room, where yet another boko bud would enable him to reach the room above. It seemed straightforward, and thus he looked around for enemies. Were there peahats? No. Moblins? No. Bokoblins? No. As far as he could tell, there were no monsters in this room at all. This meant that at least some among the boko buds were in fact boko babas.

There was nothing for it but to hope that he could react in time to prevent being swallowed; without further delay, he leapt over the side of the cliff upon which he stood, bringing up the Deku Leaf in time to make the most of his jump. Was the island in the centre of the room conspicuously large?

As he approached the island, the boko bud extended upon a stalk, the flower tilted over, and teeth began to snap at him. He sighed, landing at the edge, and whacking at the bud until he could reach the stem, which he cut with a quick slash. The boko baba withdrew into itself, and a boko bud sprouted in its place.

He assumed that the boko baba was dead; were it not, it would have attacked him again. He climbed into the boko bud, and was surprised when it coughed once, did not eject him, and then coughed again, throwing him higher into the air than he was accustomed to.

He hastened to pull out the Deku Leaf, and sailed across the gap to a high shelf that he hadn't seen before (being too far beneath it when he had been on the other side of the room). On the other side of the ledge, another of the blue-green flowers snaked its way over what appeared to be a door sealed off by bars. Without a pinecone, there was little that he could do about this fact. There were no pinecones, nor were there any other doors. His way was blocked.

However, from this vantage point, he could see that there was a similar ledge above the door through which he had entered the room. He would need to backtrack, and sail back in the direction whence he had come.

With a frustrated sigh, he leapt off the cliff upon which he had only just alit, and set off back across the gap. His arms were once again beginning to protest, and he sensed that the mist was insufficiently dense in this room to restore much of his magic. However, he did have enough to make his way across, to the door above that by which he had entered.

He rolled to his feet before the door (the first locked door that he had encountered in this dungeon), and pulled out one of the antiqued keys, The chains that held the padlock to the door (rather similar to the ones in the Dragon Roost Cavern) were likewise of antiqued silver. It gave the whole a rather darker impression than the Dragon Roost Cavern locks. But, just as had been the case in the Cavern, when he inserted the key, and twisted, the padlock and chains fell away, disappearing as they did. He stepped over the location where they ought to have fallen as if from habit, and reached down to pull up the door.

The room beyond was much larger than the room which he had just exited—in circumference, if not in area, and with a greater density of mist. Here the mist created a makeshift ceiling, once more, and, looking up, he saw green and red chuchus hanging from it. Off to his left was a bomb flower, conspicuous by its very presence, and on his right (on the opposite side of the room) was a door with two blue-green flowers clinging to it. There were no boko buds, and therefore no boko babas, but something about the room aroused his suspicion. It seemed too straightforward, especially given the dais on the far side of the room.

He would not figure out the mystery of this room by standing there. He began to move forwards, with slow caution, as chuchus dropped down around him. By now, it was thoughtless work to dispatch them. He regretted having no place to put more of the jelly, but there was no help for that.

It was as he was thinking these thoughts that he almost ran into a tall, squirming thorny vine that burst without warning from the ground before him. He had the sense that he had encountered a similar trap somewhere before; perhaps he had read about it.

He turned left, no longer forging straight ahead, but inevitably he reached a corner of the invisible maze. He turned left again, observing that the thorny growths that he had almost run into at the start had disappeared back into the ground.

Thus, he wove a tediously slow path through the invisible maze, confirming that this would not be quite as straightforward as it initially had seemed. At length, he made his way to the bomb flower, to wonder what he ought to do next. This was his only chance at attempting such a thing, unless the green mist somehow accelerated the growth rate of bomb flowers. It might.

He left the bomb flower alone, for now, to try to make his way to the door and the flowers on the other side of the room. This, he discovered, required detouring to the dais, stepping onto which caused a treasure chest to appear. It was one of the boring, simple chests which ordinarily contained keys, but when he kicked this one open, it was empty.

He frowned, wondering what the purpose of the dais was. He suspected that it might be a way to mark the path to the flower-covered door. Perhaps, he had been intended to pick the bomb flower, and if he successfully made his way to the dais, be sufficiently distracted by the treasure chest—and unwilling to forego the opportunity of discovering what lay within—that the bomb would explode with him still holding it.

This was not what he had done, but he thought he saw how some might have fallen into such a trap. Instead, he continued the tedious trek to the far door. There were fewer turns in the last third of the maze, for which he was inclined to be grateful.

He ignored the way the flowers withdrew back into themselves at his approach, instead backtracking through the maze to the bombs. Having traversed the path twice, he felt that he would remember it without having to focus too hard. This meant that he could pluck the bomb flower, run through to the dais, and barely have enough time to throw the bomb at the door, causing the two flowers to explode, and fall off the door, but do no damage to the door itself.

He pulled open the next door to find a room thicker still with mist, and his thoughts once more ground to a halt. He had not encountered such a room since the entryway.

Once again, the mist filled his body with energy, while draining away all thought and sense of purpose. He found himself standing, staring straight ahead, at what seemed an empty corridor. On the far side, however, there was a door. Then he saw two or three chuchus drop from the ceiling, coming towards him. It was not a real ceiling, of course, not that that mattered.

He drew the sword, but left the shield where it lay on his back; there was no need against such a foe, and his mind could not rightly plan for more than the moment, filled with mist as it was. He dispatched the three chuchus with ease, and crept forward, gaze fixed around the slight bend, at the unlocked door at the far side.

He knew that, having encountered three chuchus, more must lurk, waiting, hidden, in the ceiling, and was soon proven right. In other circumstances, he might have been surprised that as long as he fixed his mind upon a single, immediate task, he could focus on that one task, until it was completed. It was not the same as planning, but it was all that he was able to do.

At the far end of the corridor, eight more chuchus later, he opened the door to find, beyond, a room shaped rather like a vase, or a pot, with a circular rim leading into a hidden room below. The unlocked door to the next room lay on the far side, and he remembered that there was no third room connected to this one on his map. The only way forward was down.

There was a peculiar feeling of safety about the room, as if no evil could touch him here; it reminded him of the inner sanctum of the Forest Haven, where the Great Deku Tree stood.

It was too complicated a task to think of how he could take a look at the room below, and thus he merely peered at the rock wall, a stone ledge covered in vines forming an organic ladder, leading down, down, down.

Without a second thought, he began to climb down the vines, keeping a cautious ear open for the scratching noise of skulltulas. There were none, however, and he came to the bottom of the mist-thick pit feeling not even a slight exertion from the strain of clinging to a rock wall for however long it had taken to make his way down.

He looked to his right, past the vine-covered wall, and saw a caved-in tunnel, once leading to outside the forest. He looked to his left, and saw Mido's house, and above it, a series of cliffs—just short enough that a determined child might scale or jump up them—led to the old entrance to the Lost Woods. This, too, had caved in, but the Lost Woods had become a part of the Forbidden Woods.

Next Mido's house was the old kokiri lake. In an alcove inlet stood the kokiri store, at a just barely respectful distance from Mido's house. The awning upon which Mosia had one basked in the sun had long since gone, and the store was much more shriveled and decayed than were the kokiri dwellings. The old path to the Great Deku Tree was blocked off, and even the waterway, its waters now still, was arrested by the sudden stone wall of the Forbidden Woods.

Continuing in the clockwise circle, he could see the Twins' house, and then Saria's house, next it, although the old bridges connecting Saria's roof to a square natural column, and that pillar to Fado's favourite vantage pillar, had long since decayed, or been removed.

He climbed the hill that lay past the old tunnel leading out of Kokiri Forest, passing the Know-It-All Brothers' house, and the kokiri training grounds, to gaze fixedly at the level plain beneath the abrupt drop of a cliff. He sought in vain for another treehouse, much like the others save for its ladder leading to a second storey, but the steep wall of the Forbidden Woods must have buried it.

He walked around the perimeter anyway, hoping to find it, as if a house could be moved to a better location. He found that even the slope leading down had been filled in, packed with dirt.

At a loss as to what he ought to do, distracted by a strange heavy grief, he entered Mido's house. He knew full well that Mido would not want him to be here, and at that moment, very much did not care what Mido would or wouldn't want, for the man had never been pleasant or kind, and his heart ached for something that he had lost but could not quite identify, and he was too frustrated to pay much heed to the proper respect for the dead.

The chests that had once lain scattered around the room, and their contents, whatsoever they had been, had long since gone. The podium stump from which Mido had issued so many commands stood empty, and Link felt a strange sort of pang—of grief, of guilt, of loss—even at this, although he did not know why.

If you see Link, tell him… tell him I'm sorry for being mean to him, alright?

Even Mido had proven to be a better man than Link would once have given him credit for. It occurred to him that he was not being fair. Mido was a good person, deep down.

He spotted the ocarina lying, as if as an offering, behind the podium, only when he climbed the stairs, idly, wondering what Mido might have seen, in better days.

It was a faerie ocarina, of the kind upon which Saria had so often played, sitting on her tree stump, in her special spot, in the Sacred Forest Meadow. Without thinking, he picked the instrument up, finding it remarkably well-preserved, and began to play "Saria's Song", and the forest stilled, as if holding its breath, listening.

It felt like flagrant disrespect to the dead, but he had some suspicion that Mido would sympathise, and he walked out of Mido's house carrying the ocarina, bound for Saria's house, where he had sought for answers so many times before.

The mist weighed down upon him, judging him, if he could guess, after hearing that melody. He ignored it as best he could, but the mist was particularly concentrated in this pit. Perhaps, it was this that had so well preserved the kokiri treehouses, or perhaps not. The kokiri, after all, were spirits of the forest.

And, Saria was the Forest Sage.

There were no wooden doors to the kokiri houses now; they had decayed long ago, and thus it was with surprise that he noticed that he was having a difficult time of trying to pass through the green mist into Saria's house. This house might even be the source of some of the mist, for, here in the entrance, he slowly realised that what was blocking his way was something to the effect of a wall of mist, semi-permeable, like chu jelly, but too solid for him to break through.

Why? Why did the forest fight him? Why could he not even visit the former house of his friend without it obstructing him? He stumbled back, reeling from what felt a physical blow, fatigued after his futile struggle to force his way in.

Who dares? asked a voice, a voice that was not a voice, echoing with sound that was not sound. His head shot up, and he vainly sought for the origin of the voice, which he sensed was that of the woods itself. There was an undercurrent of menace to it, but it was the menace of a guardian, a protector.

As he had been.

Perhaps, he could reply, could try to explain, although he did not understand, himself. Was this his forest speaking? Was this Kokiri Forest?

"Please, let me through!" he screamed, voice raw with desperation and grief. Even in the moment, he was unsure if he had spoken aloud, or cried out with his mind the way Mosia had taught him to, the way Sturgeon had taught him to.

Who dares? asked that implacable voice again, as Link leant, breathing heavy, pushing his back against the wall of mist.

"It's me! It's Link Sylvanus! Don't you remember me? I lived here, too! This was my home, too!" he cried now, feeling rather as if he had been punched hard in the stomach, wounded and winded. That was how it had felt, too, coming home after seven years in the Sacred Realm. No one had known him; no one had recognised him, and they were the people whom he knew best, who knew him best.

The impression of curiosity returned from the mist, and it enveloped him, smothered him, swallowed him whole, judging him once more, analysing him, searching his mind's eye for proof of truth or lies. Link stayed very, very still.

Link Sylvanus?

He reminded himself that the Forest Temple had still been a stranger experience than the one that he was now having.

"Don't shut me out," he begged. "I'm a kokiri too, after all."

He always would be. You couldn't just abandon your roots. They were what made you who you were.

Something shifted in the energy of the woods; what, he couldn't immediately tell, but then he realised that there was a sudden levity to the mist, which seemed pleased to have at least one of its children dare the journey home for a visit. It flooded his body with magical energy, until he wouldn't be surprised if he were glowing, and somewhere far below, it showed him a giant, monstrous plant, stirring, sightless but no less dangerous for its lack of eyes.

Please, save us from Kalle Demos.

The Deku Tree had cut his losses too soon. The forest now yearned to be free, even as the Cavern had. But, unfortunately for the now amicable mist, a human body was not meant for harbouring so much magic at once, and he sank, once more, to his knees, assaulted by sudden… visions.

He saw himself: standing before the withering Great Deku Tree; fighting a monstrous growth covered in electric jellyfish; stepping up onto a dais, and drawing a blue-hilted sword from a trapezoidal pedestal; light, blankness, and a horrible, familiar laugh.

Your ability to join forces with the Sages makes you the Hero of Time, said an old man, and Link recoiled.

Just what was he doing? What had he been thinking, just now? He set aside the recent visions as best he could, even as they tried to overwhelm him once more. It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. It was impossible.

I've been waiting for you, Hero of Time, Sheik said, and he balled his right hand into a tight fist, driving it into the floor.

What manner of madness afflicted him now?

In the centre of the room, he saw now, there was a treasure chest. He needed something to move his mind forwards, something to focus on. He opened the treasure chest, and pulled out the exact same boomerang he had just seen in the vision—or whatever it had been.

No! he thought, but he didn't dare cry out to the forest, even if he had known how he had once done. What did it signify? What did it mean?

The green mist curled around him, as if feeling some need to keep him close. He stood there and stared, and stared, and stared at the boomerang that he hadn't known about, could not possibly have known about, before opening the chest.

She kept it? his treacherous mind wondered. Beneath the silence of the pit, he thought that he heard the faint strains of "Saria's Song".

He imagined that she had placed it in there, knowing that he must someday return for it, but when he tried to remember her appearance, as if he couldn't help himself, all that came to mind was a girl with two blonde braids, wearing a sky blue dress covered with variegated flowers.

Aryll! He picked up the boomerang, took a moment to savour the familiarity of the experience, wondering why he had set it aside, among the other obsolete weapons that would no longer work for him. A kokiri didn't grow up; perhaps he would no longer be able to use the deku shield, or the slingshot, but the boomerang had been made for him by Jabu-Jabu. He shrugged. He would use it now.

He knew that there was another way to store items, but also knew that he would not remember how to retrieve them once he came to a place less laden with mist, and, sighing, pulled out the messenger bag instead, stuffing in the ocarina and the boomerang with a pensive smile.

Welcome home, Link, the forest whispered. Please come back to visit after you defeat Kalle Demos.

"I will," he promised, at the time meaning it with all the fervour of a promise made to a loved one. As it was, he desired nothing more than to have the liberty of spending more time, in Saria's house, reminiscing, and seeing what remained of the past.

Instead, he stood, walking through the open doorway, contemplating the other treehouses. He sensed that the boomerang had been his reason for descending into the pit, even if that intent had been hidden even from him. He cast another aggrieved glance at the wall behind which his house might still lie, taking some satisfaction in the forest's contrite murmurs, and then, glancing up the high wall for skulltulas, began to climb back out.

In the next room (after a short, chuchu filled corridor, far less dense in mist), beyond the room containing the pit, metal bars shot down from the lintel above the moment he set foot inside, the door itself following swiftly behind them. This was the warning that it was the lair of a miniboss. He reached into his messenger bag for the boomerang, because he understood how dungeons thought—at least, when they were on his side, and capable of thought; most buildings eventually developed something of a mind of their own.

He had just enough time to reach inside, pull out the boomerang, and toss the messenger bag into an area in which he was less liable to tread upon it, before a great draught forced his eyes to the sky, and the winged insect floating there. He thought that he had heard of this one before: it was called Mothula. Sturgeon had lent him a bestiary of monsters native to Outset, once, and mothulas had been in there. Usually, they did not have such great wings, and were incapable of flying, but this was a miniboss.

He noticed that he was standing on a ledge above a grassy pit, and, realising that there was not enough room on the ledge to allow for free movement, he jumped down, ducking under the mothula as it flew by. He felt the wind of its wings as it passed overhead, far too close, and aimed the boomerang at the shimmering, blue-green wings. The mothula swerved, and the boomerang missed, but it returned to him, even as he kept moving, trying to keep out of the mothula's reach. And then, his eyes still trained on the monster that he was aware of, he felt a similar gust of wind buffet him from the other direction, and turned to see another one.

He put the boomerang under his arm, and drew the sword from his side, aiming a jump attack at the second mothula as it swooped down at him, and severing one of its great wings. He hastened to throw the boomerang at the other wing, rolling to take what little shelter he could from the enemies, in the form of a hollowed out tree stump in the middle of the room, the door to within barred by another of those blue-green flowers, but Link had no time to try to cut the plant off from the door. Instead, he considered himself lucky merely to have the tree stump at his back, helping to shield him from the sight of the first mothula, which he heard, still, flying somewhere behind him.

The boomerang returned to him, and the mothula whose wings he had cut dropped to the floor, landing easily on its six legs, swiveling its thorax to spew morths at him. He rolled to the side, avoiding the spray; he could not afford any enemy that would slow him down, and he well remembered the weight of the diminutive creatures.

He hacked at the thorax of the mothula, determined to disable this one weapon, at least, and then turned to meet its pincers, hard as stone, protecting the morth-like yellow-and-orange eye. When the pincers spread open, Link aimed for the eye, and rolled away just in time as the second, airborne mothula swooped down at him once again.

The wingless one rushed him, and the winged one banked, coming back around. He sprang at the eye of the groundbound mothula, impaling it, and jumped to the side, unable to avoid being grazed by the sharp hindquarters of the flying mothula. He did not pay attention to the monster condensing into smoke, instead pulling the boomerang out again, judging the flightpath of his second opponent.

Even with all six legs on the ground, wings clipped, vestigial wings remained. Perhaps that explained the drawings he had seen in Sturgeon's bestiary.

He threw the boomerang at that eye, but hit the thorax instead, when the monster rapidly swung around.

A new spray of morths joined the previous, and he couldn't avoid them in time. He held out the sword to his side, until he felt it burn blue, and launched a spin attack, dislodging all of the morths, and hitting some of them. The remaining mothula rushed towards him, pincers outstretched, and he aimed the boomerang at it, drawing his sword the moment the boomerang left his hands.

This time, at a closer range, it hit the monster in the eye, and he was able to slash up from under the pincers, cleaving the monster's head in two. It disappeared in a second puff of smoke, and the bars of the door through which he had entered lifted, followed by a second door on the other side of the room.

He approached the tree stump, instead, making sure to keep his distance from the flower as he caught the boomerang in his left hand. He threw it at the flower, which shattered upon the impact, shedding its vines by which it clung to and held shut the door.

Within, he found a treasure chest, this one containing a bottle filled with blue liquid. The ultimate medicine, he remembered, recovered both physical and magical energy. This would doubtless come in useful, regardless of the green mist's earnest attempts to keep him saturated with magic; it was not quite in sufficient density to accomplish this—not everywhere. Not, for instance, in this room.

Nor was it in the next, as he saw when he had climbed the ramp leading to the other door. Perhaps the dearth of mist was best explained by the enormous size of the room. The room had a ledge extending around the entrance, and then several leafy platforms, some with boko babas or boko buds, and a platform resembling a ladle which moved up and down between the ground floor and the one upon which he now stood. Looking over the edge to below, he saw nothing more interesting than peahats. He did not have the compass yet, of course, but he thought that he was expected to avoid this lowest storey, and that it was only there because the forest had used it to cover up an abyss.

There were quite a few peahats flying about the room—some more-or-less on a level with him, some flying below him, and some flying in the storey above him. He pulled out the map, which showed him that there were three floors to this room. Across the room, he saw both a pinecone and a boko bud. He knew that the pinecones were too big to fit in a boko bud even alone, and therefore, he could not bring it up with him. He could bring one down to the lower floor, if anything was there.

He frowned, before jumping over the ledge, coming far too close to a peahat as he did. He threw the boomerang at it, and the boomerang severed the feathers by means of which the peahat took flight, and it fell, bouncing onto the ground. He hurried to hit it with another blow from the boomerang, which was all that was needed to shatter the fragile monster.

Looking around the ground floor, he saw nothing of interest, just as he had first observed. Even the bole of the tree from which sprouted the leaves that formed the "ground" of the upper floors lacked any sort of door, switch, or even blue-green flower. He made a round of the perimeter, cutting down peahats as he went, and then jumped onto the wooden platform, which returned him to the second floor. He made a second circuit of the room, this time on this floor, eliminating as many peahats as possible, that they not sabotage him by attacking him whilst he was vulnerable, and then climbed into the boko bud, after ensuring that it was not a boko baba.

In this third storey, he was greeted by the sight of an alcove carved out of the bole of a tree, his way barred by thick metal… bars. Looking around, he saw three diamond shaped switches set into a niche, far above his reach. He aimed the boomerang to hit all three switches in one go, then threw the boomerang again at an approaching peahat. The bars rose; the peahat fell, and he looked within the alcove to the ornate treasure chest, trimmed with antiqued bronze, inset with chrysoprase and lapis lazuli.

He opened the chest to pull out a big key, shaped like the head of a monster, of the same antiqued bronze, inset with chrysoprase for eyes, to match the big stone in the centre of the chest, right above the catch.

Now, he had the map, and the big key. All that remained was the compass, which he ought to have encountered second. Perhaps, in the corridor below, he had chosen wrong, when he had elected to take the left-hand path.

He shrugged. There was nothing for it, now, but to backtrack.

It was not until he had made it to the very first room on this floor—the one by which he had entered this floor, that he remembered the blue-green flower at the other end of the room, and that only when it was directly in his line of sight. The gap between entry door and the flower was not too great for him to take aim with the boomerang, and he hastened to follow the boomerang, withdrawing the Deku Leaf for the first time since leaving this very room.

The boko bud and the green mist worked to replenish his magical energy even as he spent it, and it was with considerably less fatigue that he found himself on the other side of that gap. The boomerang had, by now, stricken and killed the flower, and returned to him, following him, impatiently whirling in circles for him to grab hold as it followed him along the path it had just taken in the opposite direction.

Beyond the now uncovered door was a third treasure chest, ornate and large enough that Link knew right away what it must be, and abandoned all thoughts of trying to understand this dungeon, for this was the compass. The chest was just the same as the one in which he had found the map, but its greater size, and the fact that it had a clasp, were enough for him not to have to open the chest to know what lay within.

Inserting the compass into the map (where it flattened and became a picture of a compass, causing various dots to appear on the map), he leapt from the cliff, pulling out the Deku Leaf and sailing to the first floor entryway.

He continued to backtrack, noting with satisfaction the absence of monsters, until he came to the forked corridor. This time, there was nowhere else to go, but to the right. He followed the sharp angle of the corridor's curve, and entered a room with three or four black, club-wielding bokoblins standing guard. He made short work of them, barely glancing around the now empty short corridor before reaching under the door to pull it open.

This door, he could tell by a glance at the ceiling, was filled with chuchus. And indeed, they appeared in great numbers here. There were red chuchus and green chuchus both, but he was not about to drink his ultimate medicine only to have a place to store the vast quantities of chu jelly left behind.

When the last chuchus disappeared in black smoke, a ring of light appeared, circling around a slowly materialising small treasure chest. Here he had yet another key, and the door before him was unlocked. He shrugged, secure in his assumption that he would at some point use all of these keys, and pulled open the door.

Beyond, he encountered another spinner, this time in a room with only one platform, but also a pinecone. With a suspicious sigh, he turned to look at the far side door, clearly visible from the entrance. Sure enough, there was another blue-green flower there. But, by now it was almost routine, to send a gust of air at the spinner to set the platform moving, before plucking the pinecone, and jumping onto the platform, hastening to jump off on the far side before the platform could start heading back to the entrance again. He was far enough away, standing at the edge, that the flower didn't retract into itself.

There was almost a rhythm to his dungeon progress, now.

Which was why the next room so surprised him. Here, a number of the thorny wriggling growths from the room of the bomb flowers stuck out from the walls, and a number of moving platforms (the ones resembling ladles or spoons) provided a path across the long gap before him—assuming, of course, that he somehow managed to jump from one to the other without being stricken by one of the thorny vines. Was Kalle Demos, aware of his presence, attempting to have one last go at him? He sensed that he was coming close to the lair of the boss.

He took a breath and, wishing for a greater density of the alarmingly scarce mist, began jumping from platform to platform, watching the behaviour of each individual platform, studying whether it moved up or down, or from side to side, and timing his jumps that he never try to jump from a lower platform to a higher one, and that he avoid some of the thorny growths by merely jumping across beneath or above them.

This was not always possible, but, with enough caution, and the occasional near miss, he made his way to the other side, stopping to catch his breath and to relax, just a bit. There had been a few close calls too many, but the Deku Leaf was still handy, stored in his boot. He had managed to glide back to the platform in question, close enough to grab onto the edge with a hand, and pull himself back up.

The door on this far side had a padlock and chains. Somehow, this made sense.

He inserted the key into the lock, and was surprised to find a staircase leading down behind the door. Where was it connected to—beneath the abyss? No. This corridor, suspiciously empty save for grass, continued on a straighter path situated at a right angle to the corridor that he had just traversed.

The next room was huge, but nonetheless lacking in mist. There was a crescent shaped ledge around the door, and then a ladle-platform, like the ones he had recently encountered in such numbers, conjoining this otherwise empty floor with the one below. A glance at the map showed that both of these floors were empty, but that there was something special about the flower clinging by tendril ropes to the ceiling in the middle of the room. He remembered the caged platform in the Cavern, and glided to the flower (which was located on the floor beneath the entrance—a floor "2B").

Once situated there, he took aim at the five cords connecting the flower to the ceiling, and was unsurprised when his trusted boomerang shored right through, and he plummeted down to the floor 3B, landing in a pool of water with a great splash. There was a spinner, but no attendant platform, sitting off to the side, below. A gust of wind caused an updraft to form around the centre of the flower, which hurled him out the side, so that he hastened to draw the Deku Leaf to break his velocity. He suspected that, had he jumped from the boko bud he saw near the spinner, and glided into the updraft, it would have carried him all the way back up to the floor he had entered by. It was very convenient, despite how inconvenient it was.

On the opposite side of the room from that by which he had entered, if two floors below, was the next door, which was thankfully unlocked. Opening this door, he found a leaf, several times larger than he was himself, floating in a channel of still water. He suspected that he knew precisely what to do with this information, but tested his weight on the leaf before trusting it to serve as a boat. He had the niggling sense that he'd seen such a vessel somewhere before, but the where eluded him.

He pulled out the Deku Leaf, and pondered how to send the boat across the channel. He could only assume that, somewhere around the sharp bend, he would find a second door in the wall. Otherwise, he might have tried to swim across.

He faced the cliff around the door by which he had entered the room, and pulled out the Deku Leaf, sending a gust of air in that direction. To his surprise, the makeshift boat began to rapidly move away from the wall. He continued to send periodic gusts of air in that direction, being careful not to let the boat scrape the sides of the wall (who knew how sturdy it was, really, sustained by magic though it was?).

When he came to the bend in the wall, he shifted his feet to time his next gust of air just right to send the boat around the bend, rather than crashing into the wall. He waited until the boat had slowed before he turned to glance over his shoulder at the ledge—too steep and high to climb out of the water onto the bank, but not too high to climb from a boat. Dungeons could be very predictable, sometimes.

Seeing no sign of enemies on the other side, he realised that, between the forest now fighting for him, and Kalle Demos aware of his presence, the monsters of the dungeon were probably gathering around their boss. He tried to quash any unease at the sense of unrightness the lack of monsters created, resolving to be grateful, instead, for the reprieve.

He sent several less energetic gusts of air in the proper direction, and when he was close enough, leapt onto the bank, dragging himself up over the edge. What next?

According to his map, and the massive locked door before him, it was the lair of Kalle Demos itself. It was of marginal reassurance, the way that green mist seeped out of that keyhole, to disperse into the air.

He pulled out the big key, fitted it into the lock, and twisted, unsurprised at how similar this lock worked to the lock back on Dragon Roost Island. This door had an actual handle, which was good. It would not do for him to enter the boss's lair at such a disadvantage.

The room beyond looked to be covered in burning coals, if burning coals were violet in colour. In fact, this was soil, interrupted by water. The banks, however, were barren of any life, and they surrounded the swampy area.

And, from an island in the centre of the swamp, long, spike-covered tentacles stretched out at regular intervals, reaching all the way up the bank, to the walls of the circular room. A vibrant, lilac-and-blue-green plant lay in the middle, petals unfurled, with a scalloped pink shell at its very heart—this must be the truest part of Kalle Demos, the monster's heart, if such it could be called—for, as soon as he entered, it reached up, boko baba-like, and swallowed the korok standing before it.

Link had only the barest sense of a squat, treelike, mottled body, face hidden behind a mask shaped like the leaf of a ginkgo, before Makar had been swallowed, and blue ropes, like those that had upheld the flower platform two rooms ago, emerged from the swamp, reaching for the ceiling, lifting the entire flower up off the ground, as the petals closed protectively around the shell-like centre.

There must have been twelve or so of those blue ropes, clinging to the ceiling, but he had the sense that if he managed to cut them all down, the impact with the ground might cause Kalle Demos to let go of its protective barrier of petals. He reached into the messenger bag, and withdrew the boomerang. He wished that the green mist were here to help him—it was there, but thin, and twisted. At least he had blue potion.

He aimed high, up at the blue ropes, remembering to be mindful of those thorny tentacles snaking throughout the room. He kept on the move, barely missing one such tentacle as, crackling with electricity, it lashed out like a whip at the area he had recently vacated.

Unfortunately, staying on the move made aiming more difficult, but he managed, with his first throw, to sever at least seven of the ropes. By the time the boomerang reached him, he was unsurprised to find said ropes once more reaching towards the ceiling, already regenerating themselves. With his second blow, he managed to hit the remaining five ropes, and Kalle Demos plummeted to the ground, petals unfurling, as if the creature was dazed from the impact.

He took advantage of Kalle Demos's brief period of distraction, shoving the boomerang into his right hand and drawing the sword Orca had given him with his left, he ran for the evil seed, whacking it several times in an attempt to cut the stalk that joined it to the rest of the plant.

He kept a careful eye on the petals at the edge of his vision, and, as soon as he saw them begin to twitch inwards, backflipped several times, until well out of the range of the petals. He had a feeling he would not like to be enveloped by those petals. He might suffocate, or perhaps the plant would try to eat him, as a boko baba would.

He sheathed the sword once more, switching the boomerang back into his left hand. He aimed for the place where he knew that the ropes would be, when they attached to the ceiling, assuming he was safe, as long as Kalle Demos hadn't yet affixed itself to the ceiling. He assumed that the plant would be too busy considering its own self-preservation (if it thought at all) to attack.

And then, long, electrified spikes lashed across his back, and down his left arm. Of all the places—! He withstood the sharp sting of the lash of a whip as best he could, but the electricity set his teeth clattering, and every part of his body felt as if it had been burnt by red-hot needles.

All right, perhaps he ought to have favoured self-defence. His shield, at least, had somehow blocked some of the damage, but, once he was able to think through the pain, and to notice how his left hand had, without his realising it, unclenched from around the boomerang, he realised that his left arm was less than ready for use.

Well, there was no help for that now. He rolled, reaching down for the boomerang as he passed it, and just missed being hit by those tendrils again.

Meanwhile, he noticed that Kalle Demos had crashed into the middle of the island again. He must have hit every rope before it could attach to the ceiling. Or after it had. He hobbled towards the island, impatient with his own slowness caused by his unfocused gaze and wobbly legs. Maybe if he tried rolling instead….

He arrived just in time to need to beat a hasty retreat. His legs were almost stable again, and he could see. He suspected that he would be steady enough on his feet to try backflipping again, but rolling had worked for him this far. He did manage to roll out of the way in time.

He made sure to make staying constantly on the run his first priority this time, waiting until the nearest tendrils had lashed out to aim the boomerang overhead. He was not choosy about how many of the ropes he hit, as long as he hit some. Eventually he would hit enough of them, in too short of a span of time for Kalle Demos to recover.

Or, well, that was what he thought until he saw that, by the time the boomerang had reached him, the four ropes he had already managed to cut were once more reaching for the ceiling. Unless he managed to cut eight of the ropes in one throw, those four would reattach to the ceiling, and need to be cut again. He aimed the boomerang to hit all twelve of the ropes, including the places he suspected that the four cords he had cut would occupy, if they managed to reattach, and threw himself to the side just in time to avoid being flayed and electrocuted once more.

He shoved the boomerang into his right hand even as he ran for the island in the centre, not wasting a moment upon his arrival to draw the sword, even though shockwaves made his traitorous knees threaten to buckle.

He was pleased to see that blue fluid was still leaking from the plant from his last successful assault, and hastened to add to the plant-creature's wounds. At last, it reared back, momentarily, to avoid the assault, and he sliced clean through the stalk of the plant.

The petals twitched at the edge of his vision, and, favouring caution, he leapt back once more to a safe distance. The petals seemed to strain to close up once more, but then settled flat. The seed on its stalk bounced around on the petals for a few seconds, before exploding, compressing into black mist, expelling huge gusts of green mist, which it must have swallowed, and leaving a sodden-looking korok behind. This must be Makar.

"Swordsman! You rescued me!" he trilled, in a high-pitched voice. "Thank you so much!"

He jumped back and forth on his two stubby legs, making the odd sound of wood hitting wood that Link was coming to associate exclusively with koroks. Then Makar chittered, and continued, "The monster snatched me right out of the air, and I thought maybe no one would be able to save me! It would have been very sad, very sad, swordsman!"

The korok bent over, hands clutching the sides of his head, as he made pathetic weepy noises. "But then, you came to save me! Now, I can perform the song to usher in the new year, and the forests can continue to grow, until the land is no longer covered in water. It is a very important duty, swordsman, playing my song!"

"Then let's hurry and get back to the Great Deku Tree," Link suggested. "He was very concerned about you, you know." He tried to sound reproachful, but Makar was rather like a lost puppy. It was a hopeless task.

Instead, he made his way towards the now-familiar blue light. Makar swiftly followed him, and they both were lifted up into the air, to be set down before the Great Deku Tree.

There was no green mist here, and for a moment or two, its lack disoriented Link.

Then he shook off the disorientation, as he had the dream he had had on his birthday, deliberately not thinking of the strange effects the mist had had upon his mind, as he took a seat upon the leaf platform, at the Deku Tree's behest.

The Deku Tree took a few moments to chastise Makar, and then reminded Makar of the Festival. Apparently, Link had been in the Forbidden Woods for over a day, which was not that surprising. This meant, however, that the song to welcome the new year was a day late in coming. Link hoped that this would have no adverse effects upon its effectiveness.

Makar sawed a bow longer than he was tall against a small blue-green fiddle, and all of the koroks came to attention as he began to play a lively tune. They danced and sang around the Deku Tree until the last note sounded, seeming to linger on long after it had in fact faded. The Deku Tree furrowed his face in concentration, and eight nuts, each the size of one of the koroks, fell from the upper branches, although Link knew that they hadn't been there before.

Each of eight koroks flying around the Deku Tree grabbed one of these nuts, paying a compliment to the Tree before flying off who-knew-where. At length, only Makar and another korok carrying a stick with holly berries attached to the end remained. This latter scurried away with the korok noise of wood hitting wood, and disappeared into a cave which Link had been too distracted to notice before.

Makar, on the other hand, came over to Link, and bowed.

"I don't think I properly introduced myself before, swordsman. I am Makar, the composer and musician of the koroks. It is my responsibility to write and perform the songs that usher in the new year."

Link bowed in return, immediately liking the diminutive plant-creature.

"I am Link Sylvanus," he said, before straightening up. "Don't worry about it. I understood the need for haste. Who knew how long we were in the Forbidden Woods, and your duty is very important. It makes sense that it was your first priority."

"I will be staying near the Deku Tree for awhile to relax and practice my violin before retreating to begin composing next year's piece," the korok informed him. "Please feel free to stop by and visit at any time. I look forward to seeing you again."

Link smiled in return, and nodded, and then went over to the Great Deku Tree.

"Ah, Link Sylvanus," said the Tree. "I must thank you for your patience, and your courage in rescuing Makar from the Forbidden Woods. All of the koroks are like my children, but Makar is particularly important for the purpose of this festival. Without his music, these deku nuts will not grow into fine trees. But now, I think that I have kept you waiting long enough. Take that which I have promised you: Farore's Pearl!"

A green orb decorated with a swirling design fell from high up in the branches into Link's waiting hands.

"Don't worry about it, Great Deku Tree. I understand that you have very important responsibilities, and am glad that I was able to assist you. Thank you for giving me the Pearl."

He bowed low before the Great Deku Tree, and the Tree gave a toothy grin in return.

"If you need assistance, and have the seeds of boko babas, Hollo is doing research on creating a potion that recovers both energy and magic. He is in the cave over there."

There was only one cave in the Forest Haven. It did not matter that the Tree could not move to indicate which cave he meant. Link nodded his understanding, and began his descent, back down the falls of the Forest Haven, to where the King of Red Lions waited.

The King of Red Lions made no comment on his tardiness, which caused Link to suspect that he, somehow, knew precisely what had happened. There was complete silence as Link stored Farore's Pearl with Din's Pearl, in the compartment for the sail.

The King of Red Lions saw how fatigued Link still was, and decided to let him sleep, delaying his rest only to inform him that they were now bound for Greatfish Isle, three squares to the west, and two to the north, according to his mostly empty sea chart. The boat himself would be working to fill it in until there came a time when there was both enough leeway of time to justify the delay the explanation would necessarily make, and Link was well-rested enough to listen. That might not be until after they had mastered the trials of the gods, however. In the meantime, the Boat that Speaks lifted up the sail, and began to head northwest.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Fateful Homecoming

It was the storm, the crash of thunder, and rolling waves, that woke Link, when they had at last come to Greatfish Isle. The waves were tall, and choppy, and both sea and sky were dark and grey. The island looked as if it had been devastated by a hurricane. Rain poured from the skies, making it difficult to see very far ahead.

The King of Red Lions approached slowly and with caution, explaining that it looked as if Ganon had beaten them here (although in a great deal many more words). Link wondered if this had always been an archipelago, or if Ganon's vast power had managed to reshape a single landmass into this series of tall, unconnected ones. He shivered at the thought of such might, and the knowledge that, if he were to rescue his sister, he must surely face such evil.

Of course, perhaps the island had always looked this way, and the concern of the King of Red Lions was founded on the wrecks of canoes, washed ashore, and other debris, the origins of which were harder to discern. Scraps of wood lay in shattered planks across the shore, and plenty of rope. There was a whole raft, just within Link's peripheral vision, and perhaps these shards of wood had come from a similar raft. Or perhaps they had once belonged to someone's house, or furniture. The Pearl must be hidden somewhere, after all.

The shards of pottery likewise lying around seemed to suggest that some humanoid creatures had once lived here.

The King of Red Lions was still muttering under his breath about how there was no sign of Jabun, and had Ganon destroyed the island and acquired the Pearl?, when a shadow flying in the heavy rain, and braving that lightning, made Link look skyward, as a familiar figure dove down to land before him, folding up his wings into what resembled sleeves, and gesturing urgently with his arms.

"Ah, Sylvanus, I have found you! Have you come here, seeking after Jabun, and the Pearl he guards? Fear not! Although the island appears to have been ravaged by some monstrous force, Jabun caught wind of the encroaching danger, and fled before he could be captured or killed. And, do you know where it is that he has secured himself now?"

Link held his breath, eagerly awaiting the answer to the rhetorical question.

"He is on Outset Island, the island of your birth! There is a hidden cave on the south side of the western island, hidden from sight, and blocked off by a stone wall. You would need a cannon to break through such a wall."

He paused, and Link gave him an encouraging smile.

"Thank you for the information, Quill," Link said. "I am truly grateful for your continued efforts to help me, especially given my disobedience to your chieftain."

At this, Quill seemed to slump. "Alas, I have a confession to make. Soon after I had learnt Jabun's whereabouts, I sought you out to divulge this information to you, and, concerned for your well-being. I came across the pirates, with their captain, on an island not far from here. They, too, seek the Pearl of Nayru, although I did not know this at the time.

"They seemed distraught and very concerned for your safety, and, alas, I told them much the same information as I have you. I did not realise the ruse, until I saw them set sail for Windfall Island. There is a man there who sells bombs, which are used in some ships as cannonballs. I fear that they mean to find and acquire the Pearl before you can. Please, forgive my misjudgement. I am truly sorry. I meant only to help."

Link grimaced at this turn of events, but nodded, hoping the poor lighting would serve to hide his expression.

"Don't worry about it, Quill. If need be, I'll take the Pearl back from the pirates, but I'll try to beat them to it. You've been of great help. Without you, I would have thought the Pearl lost forever, but now I have hope."

Quill bowed to him once more. "Then may I say: good luck, be careful, and may the winds of fortune guide you on your quest."

With this, Quill extended his wings once more, taking to the sky despite the pouring rain, leaving a pensive boat behind.

"Well, if the rito is to be believed, then perhaps not all is lost, after all," he mused. "Quickly, then: we head northeast, to Windfall Island."

Link frowned at the implication that Quill's apology and generous attempts to assist them both might be false, but pulled out the Wind Waker nonetheless, conducting the Wind's Requiem without thinking about it. He pointed northeast, and the King of Red Lions set forth, skilfully manoeuvring around the islands. Link tried his best to get some more sleep before their arrival at Windfall.

Somehow, they came at Windfall Island from the north, rather than the south. Link at first wondered how they had accomplished this, and realised that, when they had come near enough to the island, the King of Red Lions had propelled himself by whatever means he had glided through the sea while lacking a sail. This made him wonder why the King of Red Lions had done this—it must be very tiring, or why else had they bought the sail?

Then, he saw the pirate ship, already moored on the south side, whence he had entered the island proper, before. A flash of lightning through the driving rain illuminated the scene. Well, if the pirates were here, then they had not yet gained Outset.

Link fortified himself with this realisation, and climbed out of the boat onto the sodden pier. Across the level plains of Windfall, the black flag of skull-and-crossbones was clearly visible, despite the distance and the darkness. Now, it remained to find its pirates, and the bombs he would need to break into the cave behind Outset. They would probably be in the same place.

He remembered how thoroughly he had searched the heart of the island, and decided to turn away, towards the pasture and farms. He headed along the north side of the shore, until he at last came to a dilapidated building covered in ivy. With a vague memory of climbing vines back in the Woods, he approached, looking for a secondary access than the front door. It was full night out now, and he doubted the owner of the shop would welcome visitors; the pirates also might be present. It was best to enter as unobtrusively as possible.

He found a ledge along the north side that he could just sidle across, and did, hoping to see some sort of secondary route inside around the back—perhaps for transferring merchandise into the shop, if shop it was. There were few buildings in this part of the island, and most of them were farmhouses, barns, and even (at least in one case) stables. This building, alone as it was on a high promontory, struck him as different, removed from the rest of the island. Perhaps, the sort of building where less than legal transactions would be made.

He snuck around the back way, and then around the south side, which was barricaded off from the view of the rest of the island by a conspicuous wall. A patch of ivy provided a way onto the roof of the building, where a small hole in the wall—just big enough to fit him—provided an alternate entrance for him. He wondered what its use was, perhaps it was meant for a chimney, but he was not about to question this good luck.

He fell to the floor and began to wriggle his way through the entrance. Fortunately, there was a ledge high up where merchandise (or something else) was stored in big wooden crates. A ceiling fan provided some cover for any noise he might make. He wriggled to the edge of the loft, and peered down into the room below, where pirates were busy carrying the last of the man's barrels of bombs out of his shop.

The presumed owner of the shop was tied up tight with ropes going around his body, binding his hands and arms to his sides with many lengths of rope. He wriggled and squirmed, trying to free his hands, whilst making muffled noises through a gag the pirates had put on him.

"I guess you'll think twice about trying to cheat pirates, won't you?" asked a familiar voice, and Link's eyes snapped to the middle of the wall, where Tetra leant back, arms crossed, looking completely at ease with the situation, even a bit pleased. "Consider this payback for the nasty little monopoly you've been running here. Maybe you'll change your ways and become a good person. Nah, I doubt it."

"Miss Tetra, these are the last of the bombs," said the man in olive green. Gonzo.

"Good," she replied. "I want to be off to the island as swift as possible. I can't believe you convinced me to leave Niko as guard."

"Well, he doesn't have Gonzo's strength or smarts," said the man with glasses—Zuko? "It was brilliant, how he managed to wring that information out of the postman by pretending to be worried about that Link kid. Extraordinary acting."

Link barely restrained himself from teaching the pirates a lesson on how to treat his friends, remembering how distraught Quill had been.

"Aw, it was nothing," the man said, blushing at the praise.

"I think this might be the first time you showed such cunning," said the other man, adding a bit of insult to take the heat from the compliment. "You know, with your cunning and Miss Tetra's smarts, if you two got married and had a kid, he would be the greatest pirate ever!"

Gonzo rubbed the back of his head bashfully, clearly unused to receiving such praise, especially from such a vicious crewmember. Link remembered the man's cutting remarks now. He could make anyone feel like a worm. He'd put Niko in tears more times than Link could count, during his brief stay—not that that was difficult, per se.

"Don't be stupid, Mako," said Gonzo. "Miss Tetra, will you listen to this idiot, making stupid comments about you like that?"

Tetra had been staring fixedly at the ground, and had obviously not heard a word that either of them said.

"Cut the play, both of you, and get to work. We need to be ready and off the island tonight."

"'Tonight'?" repeated Gonzo, mouth gaping like a guppy's. "We couldn't have a bit of a layover? Not that I'm protesting your orders, or anything," he hastened to add. "It's just that the boys—well, it's been so long since we've been on land, and all, and they were hoping to stop by that café to grab a bit of a pick-me-up, yeah? Who knows when we'll pull in again?"

"Don't be stupid, Gonzo. You saw what happened to that island—the destruction. We have to hurry before the same thing happens to Outset Island!"

Link felt a strange stirring of warmth in his chest—was Tetra looking after the island in his absence? But, it was followed by the bitter cold realisation that she was right—in pursuit of the Pearl, Ganon would not hesitate to destroy the island harbouring its bearer. Outset was in danger. He needed to go home. Now.

So deep was he in his dire thoughts that he didn't notice when Tetra looked up and away, saying, "Don't be ridiculous. Of course I care about… you know, the treasure…", at least until their eyes met, and he hastened to back up—too late! She had spotted him. She knew that he was here. Now the entire ordeal was for nothing—the pirates would capture him, take the pearls from him, and he would have lost his chance to rescue Aryll—all for a moment's inattention!

To his surprise, Tetra merely frowned, as if considering, before turning slightly in his direction and giving him a wink—actually winking, something he hadn't thought her capable of. She turned back to the other pirates, saying, "Fine, fine, you big babies. You'll get your layover. But, we set sail first thing tomorrow morning, at dawn, so you'd better accomplish whatever you need to by then. You got it?"

Link blinked several times, feeling rather as if this news had come up out of nowhere and punched him in the face. Was she hinting to him that he should use the opportunity to sail to Outset and get the Pearl before them? She was going against her own best interests—to help him? He had once thought her heartless and harsh, but maybe….

Tetra left first, and then most of the rest of the crew, leaving only Mako and Gonzo.

"Say, Gonzo, what was the password for below decks again?"

"What? You forgot the password again? Ugh, you know how particular Niko is, so I'll tell you, but listen carefully and remember this time, yeah? You know how particular Niko is: the password is swabbies, yeah?"

"'Swabbies', eh?" repeated the other man, adjusting the set of his glasses on his nose. "Niko does come up with the stupidest passwords…."

He followed Gonzo out the door, and Link waited where he lay for several minutes, before realising that the pirates had gone off to the tavern, and weren't returning. He jumped down from the ledge then, before approaching the store owner. It might be better to leave him tied up, and perhaps the pirates meant to come back later to untie him, but Link knew that he couldn't leave the man as he was—not in good conscience. Criminal or not, who knew might happen to him, alone and tied up, with no defence?

"Stay in here until the pirates leave, alright? No trying to get the authorities, or otherwise calling attention to yourself. Do you agree?"

The man gave a muffled affirmation, wriggling in his bonds. "And, no telling anyone who freed you. If anyone asks, you never saw me."

He waited for the man to nod again, before pulling the gag from the man's mouth. It was disgusting, wet with the man's saliva. He grimaced, but drew his sword. Then, he carefully sawed at the rope binding the man's arms to his sides.

At length, the length of rope snapped, and he was able to unwrap it from around the man. He removed the knots from around the man's hands, and then sheathed his sword to leave.

"Wait!" called the man, in a quiet voice, as if he dared not call more loudly. Link turned back to face him. "What do you want as a reward?"

Link paused, as if thinking. "Well, how about this: if there's any truth in the pirates' accusations of overcharging people, and monopolising the business, you stop, and give people a fair deal. No more underhanded tactics. Got it?"

The man nodded, grudging, but it was no more than the pirates had themselves asked. Link nodded, and walked out the door, bound for the cemetery, which should be located high enough for him to board the ship.

He brooked the lashing rain well enough, although it made seeing difficult. Nevertheless, he managed to walk the grounds of the cemetery without disturbing any ghosts. He easily made the leap from the cemetery cliff onto the ship, rolling to absorb the impact, and then turned to the cabin door, rapping lightly with his hand.

"Hmm. Who washes behind pirates' ears?" asked Niko, in a rather apathetic voice. What sort of riddle was that? Link wondered. But, he knew the answer, so no harm done.

"Swabbies," he said, trying and failing to mimic one of the other pirates. The locking mechanism audibly disengaged, and the door was pulled open by a rather put out Niko.

Niko's expression changed upon seeing who had come to the ship. He grinned wide, eyes sparkling, bounding down the steps with the gait of an eager puppy. Link followed, for lack of a better idea, pausing when he saw the wide open doors to the pirate captain's quarters, ordinarily guarded by Senza. Niko, oblivious, continued down to the lower decks, while Link decided to take the opportunity to see what he could uncover regarding the mystery known as Captain Tetra.

The room was surprisingly opulent, considering Tetra's rough, no-nonsense attitude. He had been expecting a room devoid of all adornment. Instead, he found a lavishly decorated room, with antique furniture—a cabinet, a vanity of all things, a four-poster bed, and a number of pictures lining the wall.

One near the door was of a gruff, stern-looking woman, with a cutting smile. There was a knowing glint in her eyes, and despite the ruffles around the collar and cuffs of her dress, and the tight, uncomfortable look of the outfit, he knew that she could use the cutlass girt at her side. There was almost the sense that she was aware of him looking at her, and he turned away, as if he had been caught spying. This must be Tetra's mother.

Over the vanity was an image of the symbol he saw upon all the doors of Outset Island—only inverted, upside down. It was only a sketch, but he recognised the triple triangles straightaway. He wondered again what they meant, doubting now that it was a matter of island custom: Tetra was not of Outset Island. It was strange, seeing such a familiar symbol, albeit inverted, in an unexpected place.

Knowing full well how limited his time was, he moved deeper into her room, past the chest that must hold her outfits—did she wear any but that blue shirt and white pants combination?—and towards the far wall, where an image stole his breath away.

There, in a stylised drawing upon nevertheless aged, weathered paper, was a familiar figure. A boy with yellow hair, and blue eyes, with a green tapering hat, and wearing a green tunic over brown trousers and a green undershirt, held up a blue-hilted sword in his left hand, the tip pointed straight up, the edges of the blade parallel to the picture frame. It was a stylised image, but recognisable nonetheless: this was the Hero of Time. Tetra had a picture of the Hero of Time next to her cabinet. No wonder she hadn't mocked his clothes! What did she know, really?

There was a sound of footsteps upon the stairs, and he whirled around, dashing out of the room and down the stairs, passing Niko three-quarters of the way down.

"Sorry," he apologised immediately. "I just got a bit sidetracked, and—"

"It's alright," said Niko, sounding smug. Link wished that he would stop smirking. "Everyone wonders what Miss Tetra's chambers look like. I shouldn't have left you alone. But, you must have come back here for a reason… hmmm…. I've got it! You came because you missed your old superior, Niko, so very much! You just had to come visit!"

"Uh—" Link began, at a loss as to where to even begin refuting that statement.

"Well, you're in luck, my favourite (and only) underling! Niko has devised a brand-new course for you, from his brilliant mind!"

Link wondered who had really designed this new course, and whether it would be worth his while to discover what it was. But, ideally, he would get Niko's assistance in finding the bombs, and in order to do that, he would need to play whatever game Niko—or, more likely. one of the other pirates—had devised.

Niko led the way to the familiar room, formerly filled with rising platforms, but now devoid of platforms, instead containing conspicuously arranged lamps, swinging from ropes. Down below, only barrels and crates were to be seen—far too far below him to provide a way across, to the grated door.

"If you can make it to the other side by swinging only from these lanterns before time runs out, I'll give you the bombs we pirates took from that mean bomb merchant guy. All you have to do is make it to the other side before time runs out, and the gate falls. But, I bet you won't be able to do it."

He stepped on the switch, and the portcullis rose. He slowly swung from lamp to lamp, arriving at the far side with moments to spare, diving under the grate as it fell. Good grief. How needlessly dramatic.

Link stepped on the switch, and the grate rose again. From there, it was the work of seconds to time his leap just right, reaching for the rope at the exact right point of his jump, and then carefully balancing himself to still the rope, shifting his weight to stop it, while repositioning himself so that when he swung forwards again, it would carry him to the next rope. Easy.

It was hardly any effort at all to swing from one rope to the next, arriving at the far side of the room with plenty of time to spare.

Niko stood there, gathering his wits.

"Un-impossible!" he muttered to himself. "On his first try—and in such a short time! What do I do?" But, he shook his head, turning to Link. "Well, as promised, take the bombs we pirates stole—and hurry, before the others return."

He went to the door to stand watch, that he might be aware the moment the pirates returned. Come to think of it, how was he guarding the entry to below decks, here in the storage area as he was?

Link walked over to the treasure chest, and pulled out a special, heatproof bomb bag. He peered inside to see that it was brimming with bombs—thirty of them, if he were to guess. These particular bombs seemed to be a cured form of bomb flower, smaller than the flowers that he had seen in the wild, with wax caps upon the stems. He assumed that they still worked by snapping those stems off, at a space below the wax.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a sudden voice emanating from his quivering pocket. Dumbfounded, he pulled out the communication stone that Tetra had given him before he had entered the Forsaken Fortress—how long ago, now?

"Well, well well," continued Tetra, her voice oddly tinny through the stone. "You must think yourself very clever, stealing from pirates… well, don't! You're lucky I left Niko to guard the ship—no one else would have parted with our bombs so easily!" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Niko first start, and then, at Tetra's last comment, nod, folding his arms. Link wondered if he realised that Tetra had just insulted him.

"I bet you forgot I could spy on you through this stone—well, don't! It was different when I thought you had died…." There was a strangely protracted pause, and Link had the sense that Tetra was gathering her thoughts. "But, now that I know that you're alive, you can bet I'll be keeping an eye on you! You'd better get going, because come sunrise, we set sail for Outset—if you haven't already accomplished whatever you need our bombs for, and judging by circumstance, that's the Pearl—we'll beat you to it, and trust me: you didn't get all of our bombs. As for the stone: keep it for now, but I'll be wanting it back when this is all over, so don't lose it, alright?"

Flushing, he wondered if she realised that he had snooped in her private quarters. He realised that she almost certainly had, but, tough and focused as she was, had deliberately neglected to mention it. He could respect that. She must have felt violated….

Pushing aside the gnawing sensation of shame, he turned to Niko, who was walking away from the door to let him pass.

"Thanks, Niko," he said, with a bow. "You're a good… friend." Nothing would possess him to call Niko a superior. It would do neither of them any favours.

"That stone you have," Niko said, awe dripping from his voice. "Miss Tetra has one just like it! Can you talk to Miss Tetra using that stone?"

Why had Tetra had to speak to him in front of Niko?

"I guess…," he said, trailing off with a noncommittal shrug.

Niko's eyes lit up. "Oh! That's so cool! I want a stone like that!"

Link shifted on his feet, suddenly filled with the need to set sail for Outset. And, to escape from Niko's exuberance.

"Well, goodbye, then!" he said, running up the stairs, around the ledge and out the cabin door.

He didn't relax until he had jumped ship, and was running across the field towards the King of Red Lions. Back outside, lightning blinded him, and thunder filled his ears with pounding noise.

"I sure hope you have a cannon," he muttered to the King of Red Lions, as he sank down to his knees in the boat.

"If you have a bomb bag, hold it out, and I'll turn it into a cannon. I can't make bombs out of nothing, however, so mind you remember how many bombs you have at any time—that's how many cannonballs you'll have, too. When you're finished, hoist up the sail, and I'll turn your bomb bag back into a bomb bag."

Link sighed, a bit unsure as to whether or not to believe that the boat could make a cannon ex nihilo, but then remembered that, hey, this was a talking boat. How much more incredible could things get?

He did not realise that he would soon learn the answer to this question.

Link awoke when the King of Red Lions "accidentally" bumped harshly against the Outset Island pier. He yawned, stretched, and looked around, wondering how he had slept through the thunder and lightning of the persistent storm.

"Well, a word with you, Sylvanus," said the King of Red Lions, and Link braced himself for a verbose speech. "As you may not have noticed, owing to your being asleep, it has been at least three days since we have left Greatfish Isle—and in all that time, the storm has not abated, and the sun has not risen. It is as if we are adrift in a primordial time before the existence of sun and moon, with no light but the flashes of storm-lightning to guide us upon our path. Truly, it is a strange adventure.

"Surely, this must be an effect of the curse that Ganon placed upon Greatfish Isle, but one that works to our advantage, for so long as time does not pass, the morning, too, is held at bay, and the pirates shall remain in the café upon Windfall, never to depart. I suspect that the Pearl that Jabun the Water Spirit guards shall break the curse upon Greatfish, and time shall once more resume its flow around us. For now, however, we have all the time in the world.

"Accordingly, I urge you: if you have any outstanding concerns here, at the island of your birth, attend to them now, while you have this liberty of time. You may not get a second chance. Do you not live with your grandmother? Doubtless, she is worried about you. Why do you not stop by your house and reassure her of your safe return?

"I shall wait here at the pier. Visit whomever you wish to visit, and accomplish anything else that you feel needs accomplishing, and I shall wait in patience. Now, go!"

He rocked, pitching Link into the sea, and Link glowered at him. Was that a smirk he saw upon the humourless boat's face?

He swam to shore, and was greeted by a miniature swarm of chuchus. They gathered around him, bunching themselves for the assault, and he drew the sword, cutting through two of three with a single stroke, and sending a heated glare to the last. How dared they to assault his home? Was this the harbinger of Ganon's assault? Was it because Link himself had been born upon this isle? Well, he had wondered why Sue-Belle (ordinarily out at all hours doing chores for her grandfather) was not to be seen.

He tried to search the entirety of the outside area of the lower level of the Western Island, and found no more chuchus. He crossed the bridge to the eastern side, and was attacked by another swarm of them, which he easily dispatched, but even the lookout tower was clear of monsters. Perhaps, he had overreacted, but he wasn't taking any chances. He retreated to the closest house, Mesa's, knowing full well how late it was, but needing answers, needing to know if any still lived.

"Come in!" said Mesa. He did not sound as if he had been roused from a sound slumber. Link twisted the doorknob, and pulled open the door, and entered, to find Mesa sitting upon his bed, swinging his legs.

"Ah, Link! It's good to see you safe and sound. You may have noticed, but ever since you left, monsters have started showing up outside when night falls. It's not safe to go outside anymore, and the noise they make keeps me awake anyway, so I've got in the habit of staying awake all night, and sleeping all day…. I just want to be able to enjoy the little things in life, like cutting the grass… but I don't dare leave my house."

Link took a moment to consider whether or not Mesa in fact even had anything to eat, before deciding that, one way or another, he must be getting food. He suspected it was the generosity of either Rose and Abe, or his own grandmother. How long would such generosity last? But, the important matter was: the monsters were only here during the night. Ganon might be terrorising his home island, but did not seem to realise its import, yet. There was still time.

With a murmur of thanks, Link left Mesa's house, crossing the bridge back to the other island.

He went next to the house of Sturgeon and Orca. As much as he valued Orca—his intelligence, his skill with the sword, his patient ear—it was his brother whom he needed to speak with now.

Said brother stood in the middle of his upper-storey room, idly swinging his staff about, with furrowed brow. Sue-Belle stood near her grandfather, wringing her hands. She turned when the door opened, and Sturgeon followed her gaze.

"Ah, Link! I have troubling news," the old man said, no trace of humour in his tone. Link sobered. He forgot the questions that he had wished to ask Sturgeon, in light of that tone, and paid rapt attention. "Tell me: have you yet gone back home to see your grandmother?"

He waited for Link to slowly shake his head, with mounting dread, before continuing. "It is perhaps just as well, for she is very ill, and does not seem aware of her surroundings. I have researched the matter thoroughly, and believe that it is a side effect of the prolonged absence of both you and Aryll, venturing into great danger. In other words, it is her worry for you, eating away at her."

"You might think that she would have greater faith in your abilities to protect yourself and your sister," Orca said, and Link started. He was on the higher of the two beds, peering down at them with a stern glance of disapproval. "Why did you not tell me of the danger to the girl, and why you went to the forest? I might have been able to help you. Perhaps, we might have prevented this."

Link thought that the heavy weight of his guilt might drag him bodily to the floor and prevent his ever rising again. He had left his poor old grandmother here all alone, to fret and to stew, with Aryll's safety and his own constantly eating at her mind, with not even a letter to reassure her that he still lived. He had been on Dragon Roost Island, the home of the mailmen. Surely, they had paper and ink, and it was certain that they owed him a debt. He might have sent word.

"She began to act thus shortly after your departure. There is some supernatural force at work here, I tell you!"

Link saw Orca tense, shifting his stance slightly to prepare for an argument, and felt that he must interrupt, lest they lose sight of their goal.

"Can nothing be done to heal her, then?" he asked, unwilling to look at them. He was too ashamed to have harmed his grandmother thus.

"Ah, that," said Sturgeon, recalling his purpose. "It is said that high above, in the forest into which that pirate girl fell, there was once a spring where a beautiful fairy lived. Indeed, as a young boy, I often went there myself to catch fairies and—er—play with them. You can keep them in bottles like fireflies, you know, and, well…." He cleared this throat with an embarrassed cough before continuing. "But, I digress. The fountain was blocked by a huge stone long before you were born, and I have seen no fairies since."

Link's mind set to work. He remembered the spring at Dragon Roost Island, and the immense stone that he had easily blasted apart with a bomb flower. He now had bombs. It could not be very difficult to blast open the path. He even thought he remembered seeing that rock, before. But, Sturgeon had not finished with his bad news.

"Unfortunately, even the bridge into the forest has come down, and there is no telling what monsters might lie in wait, considering those that we encounter nightly down here."

"Nevertheless, I must go," said Link. "Thank you for the information. Orca, I am sorry I did not tell you about Tetra, but I was in a rush, and worried as to what might happen. That huge bird…."

"Never rush into anything," said Orca, "Unless there is absolutely no other choice. It is better to plan your moves wisely, and well, even if it takes a bit longer. That includes now, Sylvanus."

Link bowed, and turned back to Sturgeon. "Speaking of glass bottles… do you have one I could borrow?"

A short time later, he had woven his way past the barrier line of trees, and been chased by a horde of miniblins to the top of the cliff. Only the fenceposts that had once supported it remained of the old rope bridge—but they were tall and sturdy enough for his impromptu plan. He pulled out the Wind Waker, climbed onto the fencepost, and played the "Wind's Requiem", directing the wind westward. Then he reached into his boot, where he was surprised to see that he had left the Deku Leaf all this time. It was not at all the worse for wear, in spite of this.

He easily sailed across the gap, to the entrance to the forest. Unfortunately, the tall forest canopy made seeing what lay in wait difficult.

He almost ran into the mothula, but hastened to draw his sword, stabbing it in the eye, taking a moment to properly appreciate how much easier they were to dispatch when groundbound. He climbed the ledge, and there was the rock, stretching tall. Not for long.

He pulled the bomb bag out of his messenger bag, and broke off the stem, far below the wax, and threw it at the blocked off entryway. It landed, and he had several seconds in which to back away, before it exploded, shattering the rock, and doubtless garnering the attention of every monster in the area

Fortunately, these never seemed to be bright enough to look for him anywhere but at their immediate vicinity. Accordingly, he dove into the hole.

Before him stood a gleaming corridor, ethereal in appearance, with its sense of impossible height—that it had no ceiling—and the way the ground behaved like packed dirt, but looked like snow, which Link had only seen in pictures before. The "snow" continued up scalloped walls, until the walls were replaced with the dark blue of the sky on the night of a full moon. Clamshells decorated the far wall, which was just tall enough that the scalloped walls served as a mere backdrop, a short wall that could be peered over, until you felt that you were falling into the sky. Thankfully, seven pillars arranged around the perimeter of it supported a ceiling that looked almost plush.

It was a serenely beautiful place, yes, but Link had to bite back his frustration. There was not a single fairy to be seen. Nevertheless, he approached the far end, for want of a better plan. This was all that he had. Perhaps, it had been too much to hope.

But, the moment he stood before the fountain, a lone fairy flying low to the ground caught his eye. He was about to approach it, when, in a swirling spiral of blue light, it seemed to explode, and a tall, elegant woman with four arms took its place. Her pale blue hair was drawn into a bun on top of her head, and her eyes, without either pupil or iris, glowed the same colour. She wore a many-layered pale blue dress, which became more and more transparent as it approached the floor, revealing nothing beneath. Her skin was a blue so dark that it was almost black. She looked at him, and then smiled.

"Young Waker of the Winds," she said, and her voice was melodious, and gentle, filled with warmth and reassurance, and Link knew that his grandmother, and Aryll, and the world would be safe. He could feel the tension leaving his body. "I can double the magical reserves you possess. Allow me to aid you on your quest."

A strange flower the likes of which Sylvanus had never before seen appeared in her hands. It was a dark blue, with many thin, teardrop-shaped petals bunched together, furled over the hidden centre of the flower, but as he watched, the flower opened its blossom, and the Great Fairy, holding the lotus in two of her hands, cupped the other two at either side of the flower, in order to focus her breath as she blew upon the petals of the flower, scattering them in his direction. They were soft and delicate, yet with a give similar to the clothes he wore.

As they touched him, he felt something shift, although what he could not quite identify. As he contemplated what had happened, the Great Fairy vanished in a beam of light. She disappeared before he could rightly gather his wits. He had never, to his memory, met a Great Fairy before, nor even heard of them, although there was a nagging sense of familiarity, somewhere in the back of his mind. He found himself, belatedly, giving his thanks to the open air. Her lingering voice echoed in the empty room: "Farewell, young Waker of the Winds. Though we shall not meet again, return at any time for my attendant fairies to ease your weariness."

And, as she spoke, fairies popped into existence out of nowhere, as if they had always been there. Then, his journey had not been for naught. He hastily unscrewed the lid of the jar, and pulled off the top, tilting the jar to more readily catch a fairy, and timed his swipe. The fairy inside the now closed jar did not seem to feel very strongly about being kept in a bottle; she merely stared out of the sides with a vague smile.

Now that she was stationary, he saw that she wore a white dress that came to her knees, and her straw blonde hair was done up in two buns. She carried a black stick of some sort, from which some manner of glimmering dust dripped. She had very beady eyes, which were some dark colour—maybe purple or black. She did not look a very magical creature, trapped in a bottle as she was. He hoped that she could save his grandmother.

Rather than venture into the forest, to better report what dangers it now held, he instead made a quiet return back to the dark entrance of this clearing. He was almost surprised not to be attacked by the moblins he passed on his way, but then again, he already knew that the creatures weren't very smart.

The canopy of the forest had provided quite a bit of protection from the rain. The open air of the main island provided none at all. This mattered but little, as Link was about to jump off the cliff into the sea, and to swim back to the island where he and his grandmother lived.

Not that he seemed wet for very long, even after he had dragged himself back onto land, slogged up the front steps of his house, and thrown open the door, it seemed to take a matter of seconds for his clothes to dry. Perhaps it was some sort of magic inside the clothes? He had been thoroughly soaked.

His chest constricted as he saw his grandmother sitting in a rocking chair by the fire she used for cooking, mumbling to herself under her breath about him and Aryll—begging them not to leave her, to come back.

He wondered what terrible dreams she must be having, and moved to shake her shoulder, but at this, she merely gave a soft moan. "Oh, my poor grandchildren. Your grandmother has failed to look after you, as she promised your parents that she would. Oh, Aryll, you were so very young. Please don't haunt this poor old woman who could not protect you from harm."

"Grandma, it's me; it's Link," Link said, with an odd sense of déjà vu. He shook it off, gaze riveted upon his grandmother, shaking under her homespun blanket. "I'm home."

But, she persisted in not hearing him. From inside the messenger bag, he thought that he heard a fairy tap the sides of a glass jar. He pulled the jar out at last, and unscrewed the lid. The fairy inside flew up to his ear, scolding him in an unknown language that sounded sharp and chittery, and then flew over to circle around his grandmother, over and over, around and around, in a whirling spiral of soft pink light.

She disappeared, popping out of sight, as she had popped into it, and his grandmother began to stir, and to sit up. She blinked, and then looked up at him, and gave a broad smile.

"Link! You've come home! Oh, thank goodness you're safe! I've been so worried! But, look at me, making you worry and take care of me, when I should be taking care of you and Aryll! Well, I'll just have to fix that!"

She leapt to her feet, as if filled with the energy of a small child. "I know just what I'll do. I'll make a pot of you and Aryll's favourite soup, and keep it on for you, and if ever you find yourself longing for the comforts of home, just come back, and I'll have some ready for you. You've been so brave and dutiful, and I've been sitting around moping… oh, Link, I'm so sorry to have put you through this for me.

"Don't worry about me; I'm all better now. You just watch. Ooh! I feel like a girl of twenty-some odd years again! Thank you so much, Link. I know that it was you who healed me. You're such a good child. I know you're doing your best to look after Aryll, but do be careful, alright? I do expect you to come home in one piece!"

He was too pleased to see her renewed energy to speak, as he watched her bustle about, pulling down pots and pans, and various ingredients. She saw him looking, and pulled him into a surprisingly strong, fierce hug, and sent him off to go tell Sturgeon and Orca that she was fine. He was not quite sure if she was aware of the monsters outside, but it was almost like the old days, before his adventure had begun. And even more so, when he returned to find a bowl of his favourite soup already cooked and waiting for him.

The cave housing Jabun was conspicuous, and easy to find, the entrance blocked by three huge slabs of rock arranged in a shape almost like three overlapping circles. As they approached, a whirlpool formed—an extra line of defence—and he held out the bomb bag, still not quite believing that a cannon would appear.

The cannon unfurled itself from the storage compartment, set facing front, with Link pushing a knob at the side to tilt it towards the right. A device that big could never have fit into the tiny compartment. The bomb bag must have somehow become this cannon. It was not worth thinking about.

He tilted the knob to aim at the door, waiting until they were facing the right direction before pulling on the lever at the side. A cannonball shot out, only to land in the water. He watched its arc, corrected his aim, and fired again, this time hitting one of the slabs of rock. A series of cracks spread from the point of impact, but they began to seal over, until he hit the same area again. Then, that slab of rock—the uppermost, naturally—fell down, crumbling into the sea.

He adjusted his aim lower, and fired again.

This particularly tedious task of firing, adjusting his aim, and waiting with some degree of alarm for the boat to come back with the proper aim and angle, continued for several minutes, as they drew closer and closer to the centre of the whirlpool. Link found himself resigned to discovering what lay at its heart. But finally, finally, finally, he managed to shatter the last of the three stone slabs, and the darkened entry loomed before him. Perhaps, in the full light of day, he might have had some forewarning as to what awaited within (was it another dungeon?) but as it was, he could only sail in, and hope for the best

The room within was even darker than without—until a giant fish surged up out of the waters. Light shone, dimly, from something contained, high up, hanging from a hook sprouting from the fish's forehead. The whalefish had bright red eyes, and was mostly grey in colour otherwise. His head was broad and almost squashed in appearance.

Now, Link could see that the room was filled with colourful walls, which shone in a rainbow of colours where the light hit them. It gave the cave a strange, ethereal beauty, and was an awesome sight—an air of pristine, untouched sacred ground.

The fish—Jabun—said something, in a lighter-pitched voice than the King of Red Lions. His voice was as huge as his body, ricocheting off the walls, but even without the echo, Link knew that he wouldn't have been able to make any sense of what the fish was saying; it was in another language.

Fortunately for them, the King of Red Lions spoke this language, and said, in modern Hylian:

"Yes, we have come for the Pearl."

Then, Jabun understood Modern Hylian, but only didn't speak it? Was that the case for the King of Red Lions, but in reverse—that he understood but didn't speak whatever language Jabun was speaking?

Link had the sense that this was not the case, and began to become frustrated. It was as if he were getting tantalising glimpses of the conversation—just enough to guess at how much was being hidden from him, but not enough to make headway into understanding. That the King of Red Lions insisted upon speaking in Modern Hylian left him (just barely) able to grasp at the edges of understanding, without being able to get a good hold. It was more maddening than not understanding at all.

Then, he heard his own name come from Jabun's mouth, in a sentence pitched upwards to indicate a question.

"He has no connection to the Legendary One," said the King of Red Lions, and Link folded his arms. No connection, ha! It could not be clearer, for once, whom and what they were talking about. He still remembered what Grandma had told him—how it had felt to learn that, all along, his grandmother had neglected to mention that they descended from the Hero of Time. This shield, still resting upon his back, was proof that the King of Red Lions spoke false.

"That's right. But, in order to do that, we need the final Pearl."

Yes, this was indeed Jabun. The King could surely have told him that, right?

Link decided, there and then, that he was done with being talked over and around. Tetra and The King of Red Lions had both insisted upon talking down to him, walking over him, treating him like a little kid—or possibly a welcome mat, to be walked over, and looked down on.

Neither of them respected him, and he was, for the most part, too nice to make protest. But, niceness would only go so far, and he had reached his limit. This was his quest, and his sister he was trying to rescue, and his life at stake if anything go wrong. Keeping him in the dark was one thing, but doing it whilst making it obvious to any fool that he was nothing but a means to an end, unworthy of the whats and the whys? Just what was the King of Red Lions trying to hide?

At length, Jabun tilted his head, rocking it from side to side, and the hook swung violently, but in a different direction. Nayru's Pearl, still gleaming bright, sailed from a cage at the end of the hook into Link's waiting hands. He glanced down at it, surprised to see the same insignia of curling lines around a triangle of dots as on the doors in Dragon Roost Island. He glanced up again as Jabun murmured a farewell of some sort, diving back beneath the waves, and gritted his teeth, as the King of Red Lions carried them back out into the morning light.

"And, what was that about?" he asked, with an admirable effort to stay calm. "Your conversation?"

"Nothing that need concern you. Merely discussing matters of a bygone age," said the King of Red Lions, which was so very typical. The schoolteacher on Windfall had been more condescending, true, but the stakes were higher here, and the King of Red Lions should know by now, after twice sending Link into mortal peril, that Link was anything but a child.

"Is that right?" he asked, with illusory calm. "And, just how am I to accomplish what needs to be done if you refuse to reveal any of your plan to me—must I be forever unprepared? You tell me to trust you, but you have given me no cause, with your incessant secret-keeping.

"You and Jabun had quite the secretive conversation, but unfortunately for you, I did understand a little of it, and from what I heard and understood, you're keeping secrets for the sake of keeping secrets! Some way to build trust, eh? You won't even trust me with something so trifling, but I'm supposed to lay my life—and worse, my sister's life—on the line for your unknown goals? How am I to know you're not as evil as Ganon?"

Once he had begun, it was impossible to check himself. The resentment had been building up for too long, and the King of Red Lions would have driven better men to distraction, he was sure.

The King of Red Lions was silent in the face of these accusations for several seconds, and then he said. "You have no other choice. As for what we are doing now, we are going to place the Pearls on the islands marked with blue lines upon your sea chart, and then I will explain what will happen next.

"I have said it before, and will say it again: I am your best chance of defeating Ganon and rescuing your sister. You need a certain item, and it can only be obtained in this manner—and then only when the gods deem you worthy. That is all that I will say. If you wish to leave, by all means, go. I thought, however, that you had more courage than that."

Link clenched his teeth together tight, but recognised that he had no other plan. For now, he had to obey. "I will stay."

"Good," said the King of Red Lions, and they set off around Outset Island.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: The Guidepost of the Goddesses

Link remembered the strange statues that resembled husks of corn. They were difficult to forget, even after his recent introduction to the fishmen slowly filling in the King of Red Lions's sea chart. They were singular in their uncanny appearance. Or was that triplicar?

Each of them was located on an island in the shape of a triangle, which his sea chart suggested was pointed away from both of the other two islands. The islands themselves were space to form an equiangular triangle. These were strangely common, all of a sudden.

Link shook himself to avoid thinking about the strange coincidence, knowing that he needed to pay attention to the problem at hand, namely the attack of the gigantic, broad faced, spinning monsters—larger versions of the peahats outside the Forbidden Woods.

He pulled out the boomerang from his messenger bag, deciding that he would cut them all out of the air (and then the water), as he watched them plummet into the sea and ram themselves through the water in his direction. Not at all intelligent, but they were big enough, and, judging by the behaviour of the waves as they cut through, heavy enough, to threaten the boat that he was in. And him, of course.

When no more seaborne peahats were around (seahats?), he at last dared to cruise to the triangular island, where the first of the statues awaited. This was the Southern Triangle Isle, which island they had begun with for the simple reason that it was the island most proximate to Outset. They had just encountered it first.

As he climbed the first dais (one more to go), he wondered privately if the King of Red Lions hadn't just noticed his discomfiture at the island they had sailed past before, and this was a little revenge for his outburst back at Outset. It was only a foolish little notion born of his fervent desire to stay away from the rather creepy-looking statue.

Instead, of course, he approached the first statue, as he must. This time, to make it even more disturbing, the holes of the statue's eyes filled with a bright blue light, seeming to come from deep within, it tunneled out of the hollow sockets, bright even in the light of midday. It came in pulsing flares, and with it, a whispered voice: "Wandering traveler who seeks the guidepost of the goddesses, place the Pearl you hold here."

The statue had officially reached the point where it could not become more disturbing. It just wasn't possible. And, which Pearl?

Then, he noticed the symbol etched beneath the statue's tuft of corn-silk or wheat chaff for the first time. Of course! Etched deep into the forehead was the same design as that upon the doors in Dragon Roost Cavern—and upon Nayru's Pearl. He could have sworn that he had seen it elsewhere, also.

And, just why, if the ritos followed Din as their primary deity, were their doors emblazoned with the sign of Nayru?

He reached into his messenger bag, and withdrew the third Pearl, placing it into the waiting statue's arms.

The eyes stopped glowing, at least. He waited, but nothing happened. The statue became once more as eerily boring as it had been before.

"Well, at least that's done," he muttered to himself, backing away from it, just in case, until he felt the edge of the upper dais. Then he turned around and climbed back to his boat as fast as possible. Withdrawing the Wind Waker, he conducted the "Wind's Requiem", and pointed to the east.

He might as well get the visit to the more familiar second statue over with next.

As with the first statue, this statue's eyes glowed with light from deep within as he approached, but this time, the pulsing flashes of light were green, and not blue. Upon its forehead was a spiral design of swirls, identical to the design upon Farore's Pearl.

"Wandering traveler who seeks the guidepost of the goddesses, place the Pearl you hold here," said a quiet, feminine voice, different from that which had addressed him at the previous island. He wondered: was that what he was? A "wandering traveler"? Were he and the King of Red Lions looking for "the guidepost of the goddesses"? If so, just what was this "guidepost"? What was the purpose behind the statue and the Pearls? He suspected that something would happen—but only when he had placed the last Pearl into a waiting statue's hands.

He pulled Farore's Pearl from his messenger bag, and placed it ensuring that the design faced upwards, and out, in the statue's crudely carven hands.

This time, he turned his back upon the statue, and walked with false confidence back to the boat.

The final island lay to the northwest, close to Windfall. He now had only one Pearl left. Whatever event they hoped to set into motion was about to unfold. Judging by the King of Red Lions's persistent silence, he would not like what happened next. He avoided thinking about what was to come by firming his resolve to acquit himself admirably, whatever came, and to be ready for anything, and then reminding himself that he had already endured two dungeons and being shot out of a cannon in a barrel. It was small reassurance.

He had an entire day to contemplate the matter.

The next day, in the evening, they came to the last of the statues. He was unsurprised, now, when the statue's eyes began to glow with a red light from deep within as he approached, wondering if, somehow, the statues had a degree of sentience, or were somehow aware that he had held all three of the Pearls. Or was it their own respective Pearls that they sensed?

He glanced at the swirls and dots design etched into the statue's forehead—the only thing, aside from the red light, that distinguished it from the other two statues. And its voice. That voice was different, too: deeper, if still feminine, and filled with strength.

"Wandering traveler who seeks the guidepost of the goddesses, place the Pearl you hold here."

How predictable. Obliging, he reached into his messenger bag for the final time, withdrawing the orange Pearl that had been his first acquisition—Komali's most treasured belonging. He set it into the statue's hands, and waited for the eyes to stop pulsating light.

They did not.

Instead, the ground beneath him began to shiver and shudder, as if it were being rent asunder, or had become water rather than land. His impulse, despite the waves around it growing in size, was to head for the boat. He ran off the first dais, and then, as the shuddering subsided, turned back to look at the statue.

And then, the statue seemed to explode (sending him flying), the thick casing of corkboard brown shattering and flying off in pieces all around, revealing a different statue underneath. Intricately carved, it was in the form of a beautiful woman with long red hair, all in red, with pale red skin, and glowing red eyes.

As he flew in the direction of the Southern Triangle Island, he watched as her hands, still holding the Pearl, changed position to clutch it more firmly, and raised it high, and a beam of red light shot from the Pearl, forming a line that stretched southeast, to the Southern Triangle Island.

As he approached the island, the beam of light hit Nayru's Pearl, and the corkboard statue shattered, as the other had, sending him flying in the direction of the Eastern Triangle Island. He saw the second statue, now a beautiful woman all over blue, with a long, rippling dress, and long flowing hair. She lifted Nayru's Pearl, and he saw a blue light shoot from that island, connecting to the first statue, which he was swift approaching.

The final statue shattered, revealing an entirely green woman, with long green hair, and a dress that reached to her calves. She lifted the final Pearl, pointing it at the island that had first sent him flying, and a beam of green light shot from the Pearl, connecting the three islands together.

And then, the air, sea, and land encompassed by this strange perimeter of light began to glow white.

Yeah, Ganon definitely wouldn't notice that.

Link, sailing through the air in a northerly direction, nevertheless didn't quite seem to notice the tall tower rising up from the waves until he hit it with his crossed arms, which took the brunt of the impact, but he fell from a great height as the tower continued to rise, remembering the Forsaken Fortress, and a similar collision. He thought he might have heard a giggle come from his pocket, and silently cursed Tetra.

He was screaming, wasn't he? He should stop that before he hit the water.

A circular arcade finished rising from beneath the waves, and the King of Red Lions sailed in with great poise through the southernmost arch. Link burnt with embarrassment and a tinge of resentment. He might have been warned about the exploding statues, at least.

And, just how had the King of Red Lions arrived so fast?

"This is the Tower of the Gods, a trial created to test your courage—the courage of any who seeks after what indeed we seek. If you wish to save your sister, climb to the top of the tower, facing its obstacles, and conquer every challenge they set before you. If you succeed, the goddesses will open the way for you to progress, and you will be able to acquire the item which will enable you to save your sister.

"Now, let us hasten to meet the challenges that the goddesses set before us! Beware, for these tasks will be arduous and trying, but do not despair, for only thus will you prove your courage to the goddesses. Even I do not know what lies within this tower, but I am sure that you will gain many new skills, and much new knowledge, which will greatly assist you in your quest. And, the goddesses would never try you with a test which you could not best. They well understand your limits."

Even as he spoke, he sailed slowly into the entrance, which was a long, narrow corridor, opening into a flooded maze. There were damaged, crumbling walls to his left and to his right. The left-hand wall was closer, and thus he pointed to the left, somehow unsurprised that the King of Red Lions seemed to perceive this. He did not stop to ensure that he was understood, instead reaching into his messenger bag to once more withdraw his bomb bag.

A cannon sprouted from the mast post, and he aimed at the crumbling wall, before firing. The wall crumbled into pieces, and he was able to see the sea in the corridor that lay beyond. The sloshing of the waves created something of an artificial tide within, and the tide began to pull out, leaving the wall too high for him to crawl through by the time he was near enough to leap from the boat. He waited with impatience for the water level to rise again, jumping across to the other side once it was high enough, heedless of what might lie in wait on the other side.

This turned out to be a broad channel of water, and then a corridor of stone lining the left-hand wall. All he could see of this corridor for the moment was the square gazebo held up by four columns, with a niche in the very centre, ornately decorated, and clearly missing one of its pieces. A narrow strip of the same grey stone of which the gazebo was made separated the miniature building from an unlocked door, with a handle of gold, and some sort of circular design in gold upon the rich brown of the wood. The stairs leading up out of the water were his first hint, in the dimly lit main room of 1F, that there was a corridor at all beneath the water.

When the waves receded, the chuchus appeared. These were of a new kind: bright yellow, and crackling with electricity. He did not want to come near them—he was sure a mere brushing against them would be enough to electrocute him, and he definitely did not want to attack them with anything metal.

He pulled out the boomerang, and threw it at one of the chuchus, relieved to see the electricity vanish from around its body. Now, he hastened to draw his sword and sliced through it, leaving behind a blob of green chu jelly.

Once he knew the trick to handling these chuchus, he made short work of the other two. Now, he contemplated whether to enter the door he had seen first, or the lower door, on a second landing, at the bottom of the flight of steps. He decided to start at the bottom and work his way up, just in time for the corridor to flood once more.

He waited for it, but more than once considered going back to the landing, and entering the higher door. Probably, however, the water would recede just then, and he would decide to walk back down the stairs….

The water level lowered, and he walked to the lower door, and opened it.

Within was a mostly empty room, with a ledge on the far side, and no immediately available means of getting to it. He must have to swim across—no, the ledge looked too tall for him to pull himself up. At the same time, the Deku Leaf wouldn't preserve enough of his altitude for him to glide across. Perhaps, the answer lay below?

He walked to the edge of his ledge, and peered down into a mostly empty area—save for a few crates, which looked big and sturdy enough to hold his weight. Unfortunately, they didn't quite provide a clear path across. He would have to move a few of them.

But, no sooner did he leap into the lower area than several electric chuchus rose up from the ground. Of course, it wouldn't be that straightforward. He pulled out his boomerang, and drew his sword, developing the habit of swiftly stunning and then cutting them down. He was just approaching the first crate he had to move when the water level rose again.

Sure enough, it was too low for him to climb out onto the far ledge (though high enough to provide a way back to his entry ledge). He would have to wait and move the crates.

Thankfully, it didn't take long, even despite the water rising and falling, to move them. Then, he could just climb atop one to ensure his efforts weren't in vain, and wait for the tide to come back in. Although he couldn't move any up to the ledge, he could move it close enough to jump onto the higher ledge, and from there it was little effort to pull himself up.

Although the far side had held only a few pots when he had first entered the room, now it held another of those ornate treasure chests, this one with a great yellow topaz in the centre of the catch, and aquamarines flanking it to either side. Within was the dungeon map, which showed him that the floor he was on was more complicated than it initially seemed. There were four rooms, and two blocked off passageways. He hadn't seen these passageways, even though one of them should have been clearly visible from the entrance. This required further analysis.

For now, he tucked the dungeon map away in his messenger bag, which, thankfully, repelled water, and leapt off the ledge, walking back to the door by which he had entered, until the water rose again in time for him to climb back onto the entryway.

He climbed the stairs, resolving to finish as much as he could of the puzzles on the western side of the entrance before heading to the eastern.

Beyond the higher door was a room with statues in it, and a glowing circle of rainbow light. He had the vague memory of hearing something about moving statues (or maybe he had dreamt that he had encountered one?) and carefully poked at one.

When it didn't come to life and start moving, he picked it up, finding it surprisingly light, and put it in the middle of the circle, blocking the light. Why else would there be two statues at the entryway, and two circles of light, and no way to the raised platform, high above, on the far side? He peered over into the sea-filled gap between the platform that held the entrance, and the raised platform, just in case, but there was nothing of interest there, except, he suspected, for more electric chuchus. On the far side, on the high ledge, was a tall column that looked as if it could fit into the hole in the gazebo floor, if he were careful about how he carried it.

He picked up the second statue, after ensuring that it didn't come to life, and placed it on the second switch, and a set of rainbow steps led from the edge of the platform he was standing on to the higher one. He climbed up the stairs to the column, picked it up, and walked back down the steps, surprised at how light the thing was. He did, however, need to set it back down to open the door.

Outside, it didn't take him long to bring the pillar to the gazebo, and then tilt it that it not brush against the roof. It was too tall to set it down and then push it into place, so he carried it at an angle. But, the roof was sloped enough that he could cautiously set it into place by tilting it back up after setting one edge into its proper place in the hole.

The moment the column connected the roof to the floor, there was a faint noise, too difficult to hear for him to identify, and he had the sense that a new way to go had opened somewhere to his right.

He jumped into the hole he had broken into the walls, and climbed back into the waiting boat. The boat yawned, causing Link to question, for the first time, whether or not the King of Red Lions also needed to sleep. It was a boat, true, but it could speak. Who knew what other characteristics of living beings it also possessed?

"According to my dungeon map, there is a path—right where that waterfall is—" he cocked his head, studying the face whose open mouth gushed water in a steady stream into the room, and then continued, "—well, it leads up, and the tower is…well, a tower. Once I go up there, I doubt I'll be coming back down for—say, a day. You could get some sleep in the meanwhile."

The King of Red Lions nodded blearily. Link considered apologising for not considering that his companion might have to sleep earlier, but if it had been important, the King of Red Lions ought to have mentioned it, rather than keep it as one of his myriad secrets!

Yes, Link was still thinking about that; he couldn't help it, when he had the sense that what the King of Red Lions was omitting was very important, and that he was denying Link the opportunity to be his most prepared.

For the moment, however, it was more important to sail over to the blocked off right-hand chambers of the room—marked filled in on his map, but walled off with another perimeter of crumbling walls.

His bomb-bag-turned-cannon made short work of these walls, which were, after all, strategically designed to be broken. Climbing through the new hole in the wall found him at a spot oddly symmetrical to the other side of the room. There was the empty gazebo, and here was the immediately accessible first door. According to the map, however, the rooms that lay beyond the upper and lower doors looked very different from those he had already visited.

Remembering the location of the first column, he entered the higher door first. Within was a flooded corridor, with thick, heavy crates stationed at regular intervals, and plenty of the same cracked walls he had used the cannon to destroy before. Unfortunately, he didn't have the cannon now. He would have to make do with his bombs, throwing them with just the right timing that they explode in the proximity of the damaged walls, but neither exploded with him still too close by, nor fell into the water and defused. Waterlogged bombs couldn't be used again.

When the water receded, he saw that the floor had a rim running near to the walls, just wide enough that, even if he could have lifted the crates onto that rim, they would tilt at an angle, and wouldn't be stable enough to climb onto without falling off.

He had to resort to pushing the crates to the edge, and then climbing on, and throwing bombs at the cracked walls, one by one. Said cracked walls formed either side of the walls after the corridor made a sharp turn to the right. There was also one at the far end of the corridor.

Electrified chuchus made the going even slower—he at length decided to walk the perimeter of the room once to get rid of all of the chuchus, that he might focus on throwing bombs at the cracked walls. Beyond most of the walls were alcoves, with a few vases in them. These vases had boringly familiar contents—golden feathers shed from kargarocs (he was still counting how many he had), joy pendants, rupees, and recovery potions. Some even had several bombs stuffed inside. But, there were neither small keys, nor any other important dungeon items.

And then, he came to the wall at the far end of the corridor, which, predictably enough, was the only alcove worthwhile. There were a handful of vases there, it was true, but also a treasure chest—one of the fancier ones, with the swivel clasps, and gemstones. This one had a topaz flanked by two peridots. Strange, that it was different from the other big chest.

But he shrugged, thinking little of it. The chest containing the dungeon item—whatever new tool the goddesses provided for him to help him on his quest—would doubtless have garnets or rubies on it. He had noticed the colour parallels between statues and chests.

What the room lacked, particularly vexing considering the time and work he had put into clearing every cracked wall, was a column. This meant that he would have to enter the lower door, and somehow bring the column back up the stairs before the lower level flooded again. Perhaps doable, perhaps not. He could only look and find out.

The room was mercifully straightforward, similar in shape to the one filled with cracked walls, but without the cracked walls and crates. There were, however, two moving statues that opened green eyes and hopped towards him as he approached. They took three hops, and then opened their mouths wide. He knew—although he didn't know how he knew—what to do with these. He pulled out his bomb bag, pulled out a bomb, broke the fuse cap, and threw the bomb into the gaping maw. Then, it was a matter of staying out of the statues' ways as they spun, hopping about in mad circles before exploding, leaving behind the black condensed smoke balls he had formerly connected to moblins. Well, alright.

These contained nothing terribly exciting—rupees, bombs, heart potions, and magic vials, which were all (save for the bombs) less useful, at the current moment, than the feathers and joy pendants.

With the statues gone, however, he was free to dislodge the column from its resting place in a gazebo similar in appearance to those outside (although this one was on a ledge, with stairs leading up to it), and, tilting it at an angle, to begin carrying it to the entrance of the room. The room flooded on the way, naturally, leaving Link, who had swiftly dropped the column at the first sign of rushing water, treading water and waiting impatiently for the waters to recede once more.

He had been near to the door when this happened, and he picked up the column once more, setting it down by the door, before opening it, and carrying the column through at an angle. Eventually, he made it up the steps to the second resting place, and set it in.

From his greater proximity, he could hear the sound of a flow of water slowing to a stop—the cessation of a torrential downpour, or a magnified version of the same scenario found when pouring liquid from a jar into a glass—eventually, the water runs low, drawing to a trickle, and then to drops, and then nothing at all.

When he returned to the boat, he noticed that the mouth of the roaring lion's head statue whence the waterfall had once flowed had shut, and beneath it lay a short alcove, with stairs leading to a door leading to the only room of the second floor.

He sailed to the ledge, got out of the boat, and then turned to the King of Red Lions.

"I think you can rest now," he said. "Thank you, for everything. I'll be back soon."

Saying these words, he climbed the stairs, and opened the door, and then climbed a second flight of stairs into a mostly circular room, with a strange-looking rotating statue with what looked to be a giant eye on top. It was all yellow, and looked very old. He knew, without being quite sure how, that it was called "beamos", and that its eye shot sharp jolts of light—not lightning, but sharp light at him, when it saw him.

Thankfully, its eye, rotating in rapid circles, was fixed upon the ground near it—near enough that he might be able to evade its sight if he ran in a circle around it, in the same clockwise direction. He would head for the abyss on the far side of the room, and the platform he saw rising and falling within it.

He managed to avoid the beamos's gaze, jumping onto a stationary platform floating in the abyss, and then onto the platform he had noted from across the room, and then another platform above the stationary platform, which only descended to a point slowly lower than the second platform. He followed a series of platforms in this way, until he came to a landing the size of a platform, just large enough to give enough room to open the door set into the wall before him.

He opened it, and entered the room beyond, which was composed of an octagonal central chamber, with a door in each cardinal direction. He had entered from the north. The rooms to the south and the west were barred, but the room to the east (his left) was unlocked, and unbarred.

There were three suspicious-looking pillars stationed between the doors to west, south, and east, and, in the centre, a tall platform, with stairs leading up it. It was empty at the moment; doubtless he needed to find something beyond each of the other three doors, and then something would appear there.

He saw no monsters, and was grateful for this fact, if a bit suspicious. This struck him as a strategic location for an ambush. But, he opened the left-hand door with a shrug, and entered a room with stairs leading onto a strange, translucent platform that shimmered in a rainbow of hues. Stairs led up onto the platform on this side, but not, he noticed, on the far side of the room, which he could not properly observe owing to the stairs blocking his line of sight.

He did notice that there was a ledge to his right—with a hole just small enough for him to jump across, even if he were carrying something heavy. This ledge was conveniently outside of the area covered by the rainbow glass platform, and he could follow its path until it disappeared under the platform. There did not seem to be any enemies in this room, either.

Link shrugged, and climbed the stairs, looking at the room anew from the superior position he now found himself in. The glass was too opaque, from this angle, for him to see below, but he could now see the far side of the room, where a signpost stood near a column decorated with angular blue lines. Atop this pillar stood a strange-looking black statue with curling horns on either side of its head, and a squat, cylindrical body, but no legs.

He ran to the edge of the raised translucent area—half-surprised that it was not slippery as ice, and jumped down to stand before the sign.

"Stand before the statue, and call out for it to follow you. It will follow in your footsteps until you pick it up. When it reaches the room of its destiny, it will take its rightful place. When all three servants of the tower are united, the way will open to the floor above."

It seemed straightforward enough. But, could the statue really move?

Feeling rather foolish, he turned to the statue. "…Follow me, then," he said, hesitant, but the statue began to glow, and blue lines covered its body—lines matching those of the pillar upon which it stood, which now lowered, sinking into the floor, and the statue hopped off from the pedestal towards Link. Huh. Alright, that was unexpected.

Link knew that the floor of the rainbow glass platform was too low for him to carry the statue across, and understood why the stairs were only on the entrance side. It meant that he would have to follow the winding path which he was now able to see snaked beneath the glass, leading to the ledge running along what had been the right-hand side of the room, but was now to his left.

He would also have to be careful; the statue did not have legs. If it followed his exact footsteps, and if he didn't leave enough space around a corner for the entire statue to fit when it followed him, the statue might topple into the abyss, and who knew what would happen then.

"Is that statue glowing?" an incredulous voice asked from his pocket, and Link, startled, remembered Tetra's pendant, pulling it out for the first time in days.

"Wha—Tetra?" he asked. He heard a huff and what sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh, before Tetra replied casually.

"Well, I did say that I'd keep an eye on you. I just (er) found my stone again. I don't use it that often, so I kind of lost track of it. Usually use the other one to help me find it."

She was lying, of course, because there was no reason to keep track of one and not the other.

"Anyway, I just pulled out the stone, and opened up the connection, and I see you in some weird room with a shimmering glass platform and glowing statues. Wow. What are you even doing?"

Link sighed, continuing his trek across the room, with the pendant clenched in his right hand.

"I'm following the advice of a boat, still. I collected all three Pearls to open the way to this 'Guidepost of the Goddesses'. In short, I don't know what I'm doing, because my boat won't tell me."

"I knew you hit your head too hard when I shot you from that cannon," said Tetra, which was probably a reasonable reaction.

"No, really," said Link, as he picked up the statue (carefully threading the pendant through his fingers lest he lose it), and hopped over the abyss leading to the landing around the door. "I have a boat that talks guiding me on my quest. If it were all a side effect of hitting my head, then collecting the three Pearls wouldn't have unlocked the path to this… dungeon."

"I don't know," said Tetra, and he could almost feel her shrug. "Maybe it's all in your head."

"Wait," said Link, pausing with his hand upon the doorknob. "Just how are you able to see and hear what I do? How could your stone be susceptible to my so-called 'delusion'?"

He knew that she shrugged again. "It forms a sort of psychic connection, and I can see through your eyes, and hear through your ears. You at least genuinely believe that you're in this dun—no, alright, I'm sorry, Sylvanus. That was just mean of me to say, but the pirates are driving me crazy with their constant interruptions."

As if on cue, Link could hear the voice of the hulking pirate Gonzo, saying, "Ma'am! I mean, Miss Tetra, miss! It's sucked us into a whirlpool!"

"And you can't even deal with a single Big Octo without me?" she snapped in reply. "Pull out the cannonballs, you idiot!"

"Anyway, Sylvanus," she continued, in a level voice, as if she hadn't just been shouting. "I see that you've got quite the story to tell. Should I take it that you'll be on your way to save your sister soon? Shall we meet you at the Forsaken Fortress?"

"Follow me," he said to the statue, which had stopped following him.

Link opened the door, shaking his head. She could probably tell that he was shaking his head, too, by the tilting of the room. He stood aside, to let the statue enter the room through the open door. He watched as it hopped towards the short pillar between it and the platform in the centre of the room. The pillar lowered as the statue approached, to allow the statue to hop on, whereupon the pillar rose to half the height of the platform in the centre of the room, and the statue glowed blue, briefly, and then returned to being solid black.

"Huh," said Tetra. "Well, that is something that you don't see every day. Anyway, will you be heading back to the Forsaken Fortress soon?"

"Perhaps," said Link, watching closely as the bars blocking the southern door retreated into the ceiling, and the platform in the middle of the room shot up into the ceiling, and then more slowly lowered back down, this time with a stele in the middle. "It all depends on how long this task takes. I have to get to the top of this tower, and then defeat the boss. And then, who knows? Probably, the King of Red Lions (that's my boat), but he isn't telling me."

Tetra laughed, and Link scowled. "That must be rough," she snickered. "Kept in the dark by a boat. What's that—up on that tall platform?"

"I was going to check it out," he said, still scowling. He climbed the steps still leading onto the platform, and sighed, reaching into his pocket to pull out his messenger bag, surprised that his pocket wasn't now overflowing, with how much he had crammed into the messenger bag he consistently returned to his pocket.

He pulled out the baton, and stared at the markings. Left, straight ahead, right, straight ahead, which meant four-four time.

"'The Command Melody'?" Tetra asked, reading the words written beneath the markings. "A song that lets you take control of another body?! Whoa! Wait a second, here! Sylvanus, you're not seriously going to use this thing, are you?"

He frowned, his concentration broken. "Well, it's here for a reason. The most the King of Red Lions would tell me about this tower is that it's meant to be completeable, if I do my best, and follow its cues. It's a testing ground for the goddesses. Besides, I'm just using it on these statues. You know that they aren't alive?"

When he focused his attention solely on Tetra, intending to convey the force of his conviction, he was startled when Tetra's cabin swam into view, rocking slightly. The surprise of it broke his concentration, but the meaning was clear—just as she could see what he saw, and hear what he heard, he could do likewise, via their joint stones.

Disapproval filled her voice when she spoke. "Well, if you try that on me—ever, I will personally break your wrist, ensuring you never conduct anything ever again."

There was, likely justified, venom in her words, at the thought of such befalling her.

Nevertheless, Link felt anger flare up that she thought so little of him.

"And you think that's ever in danger of happening, do you?" he asked, coldly. "That I'll go about using this melody willy-nilly and for no reason to it? I shouldn't think I'd ever use it on a living being, nor even outside of this tower. Perhaps, it won't even work outside."

He held out his right hand to the right, and tilted his left hand to the left, following the instructions on the stone.

"It doesn't say it won't work," said Tetra, slowly. "Look, Sylvanus, I don't really know you. I don't know what you would or wouldn't do, but you're right: I did imply some very unfortunate things about you—unfair things. I'm sorry."

The wind hummed the "Command Melody", and Link turned his attention to the writing of the stele, but it shattered, dispersing in wisps of white light, and Link huffed, folding his arms, with the Wind Waker tucked neatly under his right elbow.

"Aw, damn! Thanks to your distraction, I don't know what it even said!"

He was sure that she rolled her eyes. "Calm down. It just said that it was the 'Command Melody', and could be used to switch your consciousness with a body of your choosing. Just play the song, and think of the target (which has to be within the same room as you) and when you're done, think back to your own body (which also has to be in the same room), and you'll return. Simple."

"It doesn't sound simple, the way you've described it," Link grumbled, his hand now reaching for the second doorknob.

"I'm sure that you're about to get some practice," Tetra said, as he pulled open the door.

She was wrong.

This room contained a vast abyss, and two statues like those he feared might suddenly move, in the lower floor. These ones still might, and he gave them a wide berth. He approached the abyss, looking for a way across, but none was forthcoming, until he saw the hook hanging from the ceiling. He pulled out his messenger bag for the third time in about as many minutes, and fished out the grappling hook, taking careful aim at the closer of two bars forming a right angle—a conspicuous sight, when the ceiling was ordinarily without any ornamentation. Swinging over the abyss, he saw something to his right out of the corner of his eyes.

"Ooh, Link!" said Tetra, and his grip on the rope slipped. He gritted his teeth and tightened his hold, and Tetra sounded a bit sheepish when she continued, as well she ought. "Do you have some sort of projectile-firing weapon—like a sling or a bow?"

He scowled, again. "No. I just have the boomerang, and the grappling hook, and bombs—" here, he couldn't resist smirking, "—and my sword and shield—and the Wind Waker baton."

"Pity," said Tetra. "There was a platform with what looked like some strange sort of target sticking up on a pole over in a corridor to your right—there's no ground there, just that platform, and the switch, and beyond that maybe a ledge with a door? I'm not sure; it went by too fast."

Figuring that Tetra was trying to help him (and he could use the help), he swung back across the gap in the direction whence he had come, looking over to his right as he did. There was an eye—with bright red iris—set into a diamond switch, if switch it was, sticking up from a pole sticking out of what looked like the moving platforms that had brought him to the second storey.

Tetra was right—if he could hit that switch, the platform would probably move, and it would carry him from that point to the ledge with the door that Tetra had seen beyond. But, he didn't have a projectile weapon, so it wasn't worth thinking about yet. Perhaps, the dungeon would provide one.

Instead, he propelled himself to the other side of the abyss, and the unlocked door beyond. Surprising, how few of these doors had locks, compared to the Forbidden Woods.

He stopped, standing stock still, in the entrance to the room. He stared at the armour-clad figure standing still as a statue before him. The suit of armour it wore gleamed in the mysterious omnipresent light of the tower, and the sword looked very sharp and real. He looked around the room at the six columns arranged in a circle, and at the door to his left, which was barred, and huffed, more irritated than surprised when the "statue" lowered its right hand, holding out its sword to its side, and began walking toward him with a metallic clanking noise.

Tetra said, "Oh, I've heard of these—these are darknuts, famed warriors, very skilled with wielding sword and shield in tandem. Their armour and helmets strap on in the back—get behind it!"

This—this was the time for a parry attack, if there ever was one. Get in behind your opponent's guard, use its momentum against it, and end up behind the foe, slicing off the helmet with a finishing blow. Such an opponent would be tougher than a moblin.

Probably. The danger of moblins was that they were stupid but unpredictable. These warriors were stupid, and predictable. Given half a chance, the darknut slashed at him with what would be a devastating blow if it had landed—that sword was as big as Link was!—but instead Link parried, pushing the blade away as he circled around the darknut's guard, slicing through the helm with a quick final slash before landing behind the darknut.

The helmet fell off to the ground, exploding out of existence shortly thereafter, and the darknut was revealed as having violet skin, and pointed ears, like a dog or a cat.

The darknut didn't learn, preparing to slash at Link again. At the same angle. From the same direction. And, leaving itself wide open as it did, despite the current lack of helmet on its head.

Link waited for the attack, parried, and, making a lower circle this time, cut through the cords binding the back of its armour to its now unprotected body.

The darknut was faster now, but no more intelligent. That it had retained its weapon was due to the fact that Link's goal had been not to disarm his opponent, but to rob it of its primary defence. The fight was easy enough for Link that he noticed the Knight's Crest resting upon the creature's now otherwise bare arm, near the wrist.

For a monster, it was mere adornment, but Link had not forgotten the note from Orca, which he had found in Dragon Roost Cavern over a week ago (how it had come to be there was something he ought to have questioned before, but he had had more pressing matters on his mind then, as he didn't now, and was yet to become accustomed to this questing business).

He waited for another, inevitable slice, and took the opportunity to disarm his opponent, sending the sword flying into a pillar, which promptly toppled over in that same direction, crashing to the floor before evaporating. It was a good thing that he hadn't been in the way, but his attention remained fixated upon the battle at hand, if it could be called such, now that the enemy was disarmed.

Bored, he cut the knight's crest off the creature's arm, lest it disappear when the foe was vanquished, and set about hacking through the darknut's wide-open guard at his leisure. The monster was too busy focused upon attack to put up a proper defence, even with its armour and helmet disintegrated. He was sure that the ones which had shields would be more of a challenge. He could almost see it, how the monster's fighting style was centred around a shield for defence, and a sword for offence, and realised that this was why the monster seemed to be weaker than it was.

This did not stop him from casually sheathing his sword with a yawn when the monster disintegrated into black smoke—not another of those balls of black smoke! Well, he could use the energy provided by those heart potions. He cracked open the ball of smoke, and downed several red potions before he realised that Tetra was calling him.

"Sylvanus, come on! I'm trying to help you, here!"

"If you were talking to me during the fight, I didn't notice—it's the excitement, you know," he said conversationally.

"No!" Tetra almost shouted. "Look at the centre of the room—I mean, really look!"

At some point, a big treasure chest, inset with a yellow topaz flanked by twin garnets, had appeared there. There had been three statues on three islands, of three different colours. This was the third treasure chest, each with stones whose colour matched those statues. Was it safe to assume that this was the final treasure chest? Possibly.

He twisted the swivel clasp, and withdrew (at long last!) a bow and quiver of arrows. There were thirty arrows in all. He counted them.

"Ha!" Tetra exclaimed. "We make a great team, Link!"

"What team?" he grumbled. "I'm the one doing everything."

Tetra sounded a bit miffed when she spoke next. "I'm just trying to help, hero boy. We've been looking for clues as to where the next treasure is hidden—and running afoul of plenty of the less pleasant things upon the high seas as we do. But, I'm taking the time out of my busy schedule (it would help if the pirates weren't a bunch of squabbling children) to help you."

"I'm ever so grateful," said Link, voice laden with as much sarcasm as he could muster. He was grinning, however. The bow was definitely a useful asset.

"Say, Sylvanus, how good of a shot are you with the bow?" asked Tetra, with no hint of her earlier attitude. She must be the most temperamental woman….

Link shrugged, and knew that she would know that he had shrugged. "I don't know. I've never tried it before."

"…What?" asked Tetra. "Never? Sylvanus, you can't just jump into these things! You need to know how to hold a bow, and all, before you go about using it in dangerous conditions!

"Let's practice, right now. We'll see what you can do. Don't hurt yourself, but stand at the entrance of the room and try to hit the lock on the hinge on the treasure chest. It's a fair distance away, but a decent archer shouldn't have a problem with that. I know you want to hurry and save your sister, but rushing with a weapon you've never handled before is just… it's just suicide, Sylvanus!"

When Link still hesitated, she barked, "Sylvanus! Door! Now!"

He scurried for the door, still clutching both bow and quiver in his hand. He slung the quiver over his shoulder, instead. The moment he came to the door, he pivoted, raising the bow, twisting it so that it lay horizontally, and taking up an archer's ready stance, he automatically reached backwards, fitted the arrow to the bow, sighted along the shaft, and fired. The gemstone in the clasp shattered.

He blinked, considered, decided that he didn't care that much what the tips of the arrows were made of, to shatter topaz into a hundred fragments. Yes, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the stone still lay in pieces upon the floor.

"…What?" Tetra asked, surveying the scene. "Are you sure you've never handled a bow before?"

Link nodded, frowning over the lost arrow, but he was sure that there would suddenly be more, scattered even in vases throughout the rest of the dungeon. If there had been a vase stuffed with bombs, why not arrows?

"Quite," he said, turning to the second door, the one he hadn't entered through.

"But then…if you've had no training, how…?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Come to think of it, I was never taught how to use the boomerang, either. I just sort of…knew how to use them. It's as if my body remembered, or something. But, I did get training with the sword from Orca. He's an old man on Outset who's been like a grandfather to me and Aryll—doesn't have any kids of his own."

Tetra had stopped paying attention. "Well, at least you got sword training," she conceded, "But, the rest…!"

He shrugged—he seemed to be doing that a lot of late—and opened the unbarred second door. It occurred to him, although he didn't voice the thought aloud, that he had had training with the sword, true, but none with the shield. But, he'd been using them in tandem, despite that.

This next room had another abyss he would have to swing across, but, of more immediate concern, several statues such as he had seen throughout this dungeon. They were the same slate grey of much of the Tower, with large smooth dull pink circles on their backs, and bright green dots on their fronts. They were rather cylindrical in shape, with pointed ears at the tops of their heads, and the barest minimum for a face.

It was strange how much he noticed about the enemies once they started to attack him. He wondered if there was some sort of telltale sign to their appearance marking them as monsters and not mere statues.

Perhaps, the only way to tell was to brush up against them.

They were too sturdy for the sword to even dent, and he sheathed it, pulling the bow from its temporary lodging in the boot formerly occupied by the Deku Leaf, and drew an arrow from the quiver, automatically notching and firing three arrows, one for each of the armos knights.

When he hit the green dots on their fronts, the red glass on their backs began to pulsate with light, a bit like a throbbing wound. He tucked the bow under his arm, and drew the sword, slashing at the fragile glass, which broke, sending the armos knights hopping and spinning in circles, before exploding like the bomboi he had encountered earlier.

Even as he dispatched these foes, he heard an ominous crackling noise from across the room (he hadn't even had a chance to get the lay of the room before being attacked!), and half-turned to look behind him, across another abyss, to a strange, robed, beak-nosed creature—a bit like a bird, a bit like a man, but too large for either, with billowing black robes, and a cruel savage beak that dominated its face. It swung something on a chain around in circles, dancing around in a circle before pointing a wand at Link, sending out a spread of fireballs, and then disappearing with a menacing laugh.

"Wizzrobes?" asked Tetra, and Link saw that, sure enough, there was another of the creatures on the other side of the gap, spinning around in a circle before sending out a similar spread of fireballs in his direction. Meanwhile, the armos knights whirled towards him in their death throes.

The first wizzrobe reappeared in a crackle of energy, accompanied by a trilling tune. Link sheathed his sword, and returned the bow to his hands, notching an arrow to the string, and taking the time to sight more carefully, from this greater distance. He shot, and the wizzrobe abandoned its attack, disappearing with a shriek, even as its fellow appeared in a crackle of energy and a string of notes.

Link managed to hit it only once with an arrow—he fired two, but it had vanished before the second could hit, and the arrow embedded itself in the far wall, instead.

The first wizzrobe took the opportunity to reappear on his side of the room—too far for him to reach with his sword, but an easy target for the bow.

It vanished once more when the arrow hit, but the second wizzrobe now appeared nearby, to his right. He drew the sword, and hacked at it without troubling with the bow, and it at last vanished in a puff of smoke, even as that strain announced the first wizzrobe's return, this time across the abyss. Link swiftly sheathed the sword again, and notched yet another arrow.

Finally, the other wizzrobe vanished with a fell screech, and the way was, hopefully, clear.

Now, he could see the bomboi on the far side, and another circular switch made of a ring of rainbow light. And, there was the second tower statue. Well, just how was he to bring it even over this first divide? Perhaps, the switch held the key?

He pulled out the messenger bag, ignoring Tetra's protests that there was no way that the bow would fit in there, and stuffed the bow in, withdrawing the grappling hook as he did, before returning the bag to his pocket, which was far too small to hold even the bow.

"How…?" asked Tetra weakly, for the umpteenth time. He shrugged in return. The quiver had gone, too, even though he'd only put away the bow.

He carefully aimed the grappling hook, and swung across the gap, cautiously approaching the bombos on the left of the switch, having already made sure that he had put away the grappling hook, and withdrawn the bomb bag. He pulled out a bomb, and broke the fuse cap.

The bombos hopped towards him, and he tossed the smoking bomb into its gaping maw as he headed towards the bombos on the right.

"You know… you seem pretty good at this," said Tetra, as if the admission were physically painful.

"Wow! That sounded almost like a compliment," said Link, as he observed the madly hopping second bombos out of the corner of his eye.

Tetra huffed, and he had the sense that she was in her familiar, almost defensive, crossed arms position.

He approached the statue, deep in thought. He didn't realise that Tetra hadn't seen one of these circular rings of light before, until she said.

"Sylvanus, what is that glowing rainbow on the floor?"

He had come to a decision by that point. If a statue could trigger the switch, then so could he.

"Follow me," he told the statue on the pillar. In response, the red lines of the pillar flowed upwards into the statue, giving it eyes, and helping to define the locations of its limbs and facial features.

He bowed his head, before pulling out the Wind Waker from where it had lain in his messenger bag.

Tetra realised what he was about to do an instant before he pointed his right arm to the right, and his left arm to the left. Left, straight ahead, right, straight ahead. The wind sang along to the "Command Melody", even though there was no wind in the room. At least Tetra didn't know to ask about that.

As he focused his attention on the statue, the world spun around him, until suddenly he was looking straight ahead, from a lower vantage point. He was able to swivel the head to look upon himself (was that what he looked like? His brows were furrowed in concentration, eyes shut tight, in a sort of half-crouch. In short, he looked stupid.) Now, however, he needed to return to himself. He focused back upon his sense of self—even the self standing with a stupid expression on his face before the pillar, and shut his eyes, thinking hard.

When he opened them, he was himself again. Rather than bask in the sensation of having four limbs and a fully mobile body, he walked over to the switch, standing on it, and the light shut off. He held the baton in his left hand, pointing his right arm to the right, and his left arm left, straight ahead, right, straight ahead, focusing upon the statue as he did.

His consciousness returned to the statue, and he set to attempting to hop forwards towards the rainbow bridge now spanning the gap. He hadn't seen it when he had been himself; his back had been turned to it, but he had heard the musical sound, the way the air hummed as it created a solid substance out of thin air. The rest of this had been trusting that the tower would provide him a way across.

Hopping forwards was a bit like playing that game Aryll had loved when she had been four or five years old, where you tied your legs together and tried to hop from square to square amongst lines drawn in the surf. He was out of practice with the very idea, and he had been much younger then.

Crossing the bridge took a lot of concentration, and he was glad that there were no monsters remaining in the room. The statue did not appear to have ears or any way of hearing, and was likewise devoid of mouth or nose. He hoped that the statues didn't have minds; it would be a very boring existence in the ordinary way of things, sitting on a platform, unable to move.

He reached the end of the bridge, hopped a bit further away from the gap, and hopped around in a semicircle so that he faced himself. He looked oddly small and fragile from such a distance.

He focused, hard, and his consciousness returned to himself. He shook himself, as if a dog ridding his fur of water, and slowly adjusted to the sudden vividness of the world. And, Tetra calling him. Ooops.

"—nk, can you hear me? Come on! Tetra here! You can't just keep ignoring me, I swear! Oooh!"

"Sorry, Tetra," he murmured into the stone. "I guess when my consciousness went away, yours stayed behind…."

"And lucky it did, too," Tetra snapped. "I don't think that spell is meant to bring two minds back and forth. What if I'd been stuck into that stupid statue's consciousness? You're so thoughtless!" she huffed.

Any guilt he might have felt at the danger he might have put her in vanished at her tone.

"There was no reason to think that," he said, trying to sound as if he knew that that was how the spell worked all along. "After all, the pendants connect to one another, right? It allows us to share a sort of mind while we're apart, as long as we each have a stone. But, when the statue and I traded places, you were stuck with the statue's mind. It must have been pretty boring, true, but not dangerous."

She huffed, again. "And, what if your consciousness had been stuck? Just warn me the next time you're about to do something stupid like that, alright? But… it seems it was a good idea. It worked, anyway," she admitted, with the greatest possible reluctance.

Link ignored her, pulling out the grappling hook, pondering the notion that Tetra had been so distraught because—somewhere beneath that gruffness—she cared what became of him. Hadn't she shown it, following after him during this trek through the Tower?

He swung himself across the now bridged gap to join the waiting statue.

"Follow me," he said, his voice thankfully betraying none of his considerations or contemplations.

The statue obligingly followed him back into the room of the miniboss, and then to the room before it, and the second abyss. He sighed at the sight. From the grappling hook, he could swing across to the platform with the eye, it was true, but what to do with that knowledge? Hope that the eye switch would create another bridge? It was obviously a moving platform.

There was another platform behind the eye switch. Maybe….

No. His only chance was hitting the eye witch, and hoping that something happened.

He pulled the grappling hook out, and swung across to the platform with the eye switch on it, shooting the switch from only a few feet away. The platform upon which he stood began to move, heading towards the ledge behind it (before him, now), beyond which stood an unbarred, unlocked door.

For want of a better option, he opened the door, entering the room beyond, which was filled with moving platforms, some with eye switches leaving them currently inert, others in constant motion. Many of these platforms—at least the ones without eye switches, also held vases. These were usually among the rare motionless platforms without eye switches. There had to be some sort of purpose to this room.

Pulling out his dungeon map, he saw that the room spanned two floors. Also, according to the compass, there was a treasure chest in the corner closest to him, to his left. That must be the purpose of this room.

In order to reach this chest, he had to shoot several eye switches, jump from moving platform to moving platform, and incapacitate what Tetra told him were red bubbles, which would light him on fire if they made contact, but were mercifully vulnerable to projectiles. She was clearly trying to hide that she was impressed when she commented on his hitting a far away bubble from one of the many moving platforms.

At last, he made it to the upper storey, and the treasure chest, which was ornate, with a topaz in the centre, and two more flanking it. This would be the boss key.

And indeed, the boss key it was, brazen, and with eyes of onyx, like gaping holes in its face. This was not the most pleasant colour combination, but Link paid it little heed. He was too busy trying to discern a means of conveying the statue he had left in the previous room across the gap.

When he backtracked and returned to that room, he saw that he needn't have worried. The platform crossed from each side of the abyss to the other, stopping near each of the three ledges before rushing onward.

Thence, it was easy to pick up the statue (lest it fall when trying to follow him onto the platform), jump onto the moving platform, jumping back off when they reached the other side, and then stopping near the door to the central chamber, setting it down, and telling it to follow him.

It followed him into the central chamber, jumping onto the second platform, and glowing red briefly, in the same way as the first, before going dull and lifeless. To Link's left, the bars drew up from the face of the eastern door.

This final room was straightforward, as if to atone for the previous difficulties. There were several statues nearby, and a ledge across a gap which turned out to be filled with water, and two octagonal platforms, standing side by side, hanging from the ceiling. The moment he jumped onto one, it dipped down, while the other stayed where it was. Clearly, this was a matter of counterweighting—finding enough things that weighed about the same as his own weight plus that of a statue, and using that to ensure that he could jump across from ledge to ledge. And, there were four statues nearby.

He had no trouble transferring the statues, one by one, to the left-hand platform, which sank down into the water, leaving the right-hand platform where it had been. He jumped across to the far ledge, and there was the final tower servant-statue upon its pillar. The only way to get the pillar to lower was to call the statue. By now, the process was familiar: the green lines decorating the pillar transferred themselves onto the statue, outlining its arms and giving it eyes.

He picked up the statue as it approached him, jumping back across to the ledge that held the door, and setting it down nearby. He beckoned it to follow, and opened the door.

The third statue took its place on the third column, flaring green before dulling to black, and a thick column of red light shone down from the ceiling, flooding the dais. Link waited for it to subside, but instead, the three black statues vanished into the air, and their columns reached for the ceiling.

Link waited a little longer, and then stepped into the red light, thinking of the blue light he had twice encountered after defeating a boss.

Just as with that light, the column of red lifted him up, and up, and up, through the ceiling, into the room beyond.

In this room, there was a triangular ramp, and a switch that he could just make out through the wall of energy barring his way forwards. The ramp was high enough that if he jumped from it, he could glide over the energy barrier. There was a door behind him that was sealed off with the same energy barrier—he didn't turn around to look; he could hear the crackling behind him, and the dull hum.

Link climbed the ramp, and pulled out the Deku Leaf. He sailed over the red light, and over the energy barrier, just skimming the top of the electric field. He dropped down behind the barrier, and from there, it was a matter of walking over to step on the switch. The energy barrier disappeared, retreating into the sides of the wall. Further away, the second barrier also dispersed. Link stepped off the switch, and waited, lest either barrier return.

Neither did. He walked to the formerly barricaded door, and opened it to find himself at the base of a spiral staircase, flanked at regular intervals by beamoi, clearly visible against a star-strewn sky. He resolved not to look down, at the sea, an incomprehensible distance below.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: The Land beneath the Waves

As if the beamoi weren't enough, kargarocs also prowled this final staircase. Link had to stop several times, in an area just barely outside of two beamoi's sight, to aim his boomerang at a kargaroc as it swooped down. Tetra wisely kept silent as he climbed, and climbed, and climbed. He could not help noticing the rise of the moon to the east, showing him just how long he had been exploring the dungeon. He had spent over a day in there; he could feel it in his weary legs, desperate for rest. But, there was no time for that now.

At last, however, he stood at a tall, ornate door, decorated in lines and swirls in red, blue, and green. It was flanked by two vases each, to either side. In the centre of the door was a padlock holding it shut, all of bronze, to match the boss key. He pulled out said key, and stuck it into the lock, and the key and lock vanished as the door unlocked, and the handle was revealed.

"Link, I have to get some sleep soon," Tetra said. She yawned, and he had the sense that she was trying to restrain her obvious fatigue in consideration for him, who could not rest, but must press ever onward. "Do you want me to stay with you, to see this through to the end?"

He was surprised that she would even offer. Since when did Tetra care? He shoved aside earlier musings about this very question, and considered.

"The boss is in the room beyond," he said. "I don't need any distractions, but you have been helpful. Maybe you'll notice something I don't. I'm sorry to ask it of you, but…."

"I'll stay—just 'til you beat the boss," said Tetra. There was none of the usual haughtiness in her voice. It made her sound… strange….

In a good way.

Pay attention to the task at hand! Link berated himself, throwing open the door.

He walked into the boss's chamber, but there was no waiting monster to pounce upon him the second he entered. Bars shot down across the door behind him, and what he had previously taken to be a decoration in the wall in his brief glance around the room began to be covered in lines of green, red, and blue.

"You have done well to come this far," said a woman's voice, sweet and gentle.

"Oh, Chosen One," said a second female voice, with a sad, soft sigh.

"You have truly shown great strength," said a deeper voice, also female, with a sense of unwavering stolid strength to it.

"Your quest is not yet done, however," said the second woman, in a level voice.

"Oh, Chosen One," sighed the first.

"Accept our final test," said the third woman. Then all three voices cried in unison:

"GOHDAN!"

First one hand detached from the wall, and then the second. They were slate grey, matching the previous columns, far below, except for the bright red eyes in the palms.

Finally, a great head like a skull, with a brazen headdress, and two glowing red eyes, detached from the wall, and each piece of Gohdan began to move separately.

"Link, what did they say?" asked Tetra.

"You mean you didn't understand them?" Link asked, as he pulled out his bow. The quiver reappeared, of course. He was starting to understand how this all seemed to work, now.

"Of course not! They were speaking gibberish! How did you understand them—never mind that now!" She had noticed Gohdan. "What is that thing?"

He could feel her shake her head to refocus her attention. "I think you you have to take those hands out first—that's why they've got the same glowing red spots as the eyes."

Link nodded in acknowledgement, and aimed for the red eye of the left hand. He wasn't that surprised to hit the red eye dead on with his first shot, barely acknowledging this fact before turning to the second hand, arrow already notched to the string. This shot, too, was true, and he ignored Tetra's muffled attempts to suppress that she was impressed by his accuracy and speed, shifting his focus to the red eyes. There was something oddly familiar about this battle….

Gohdan's movements became less predictable with both hands dangling limply from the air. Link aimed higher, towards the red eyes high above, but it was much harder to aim at the constantly moving head.

"Link! Watch out!" Tetra cried, and he staggered, overcome by the sensation of déjà vu, the memory of a much higher-pitched voice, which had always been there to help him in battle before.

Before what?

The stream of fire that Tetra was repeatedly trying to call his attention to, billowing in two columns from Gohdan's nostrils, almost hit Link before he came to himself, remembering what he was doing. The hands would surely come back to life soon. He had to hurry and hit Gohdan's eyes.

He notched a sixth arrow, glad of the replacements he had found in the room with the moving platforms and the boss key. Maybe this room itself had a hidden supply of arrows somewhere, but why chance it? Still, he had had thirty arrows upon entering this room. Now he had twenty-four.

He took careful aim once the streams of fire stopped, and sighted the arrow, drawing and finally striking the left eye. It felt a much greater victory than it ought to have.

Tetra cheered in the background, as he withdrew a seventh arrow, aiming briefly before letting fly. He was beginning to understand the statue's erratic movements, perhaps.

Gohdan crashed to the ground, its mouth unhinging, open wide, and Link sighed, pulling out the messenger bag, and the bomb bag within it, setting the bow beside him on the ground for the moment. He withdrew a bomb, broke the fuse, and threw it into the waiting jaws of the boss. Before the bomb detonated, he had already stowed the messenger bag, bomb bag once more inside it, back into his pocket, and picked up his bow, already aiming (undrawn) towards the conjectured position of the left hand, once it reactivated.

Immediately following the explosion, Gohdan lifted back into the air, accompanied by its no longer dangling hands, which had resumed their position of palms facing straight outwards, held as if they were about to clap together. This raised the uncomfortable question of what it would feel like to be clapped between those two hands. Maybe one would just clench into a fist if it could catch him, or maybe they would come together to squish him.

He wished he hadn't thought of that.

He notched the eighth arrow, and aimed for the left hand. He hadn't been misremembering; these were easier targets than the eyes. As if to prove this to himself, he shot at the left eye next, but the eye closed, deflecting the arrow. Of course.

He redirected his aim towards the right hand, which he readily hit and subdued, and then once more fixed his attention upon the eyes. The eleventh arrow successfully found its mark, but not the twelfth or the thirteenth. He stayed in constant motion around the arena, trying to mimic the boss's movements, wary of the gouts of flame.

The fourteenth arrow finally struck Gohdan's right eye, and Link had already set aside the bow even as Gohdan crashed to the ground. He pulled out his bomb bag once again, withdrew the bomb, and broke the fuse before throwing it into Gohdan's now gaping mouth.

Once more, he had put away the bomb bag, and returned his bow to its customary horizontal position before Gohdan rose once more into the air, looking none the worse for wear for the two bombs that had exploded inside of it. But, if it had truly been made by gods….

Link shot the left hand before it could move, immediately pivoting as he notched his bow, already aiming for the right hand. This time, he managed to hit each eye on his first try. He had only twelve arrows left now. He still had plenty of bombs, however.

He threw the bomb into Gohdan's mouth, and picked up his bow, aiming for where he knew the right hand would rise. He hit each hand on his first try, but it took several attempts to hit the left eye. Gohdan had twice nearly scorched him with the fire that came from its nostrils (wasn't that what dragons were supposed to do; hadn't he heard of a dragon that did just that?), before he finally struck. Then it was onto the right eye. Tetra was keeping uncharacteristically quiet, only occasionally calling out warnings. At last, he hit the right eye, and Gohdan plummeted once more.

He pulled out the bomb bag, threw the bomb into the mouth (this was beginning to seem almost routine), and then stuffed the bomb bag back into the messenger bag back into his pocket, wishing as he did that there were some other way of storing his equipment. Hadn't he been thinking about one in the Forbidden Woods?

He had already picked up the bow, aiming for where the hands ought to rise, when Gohdan and its hands rose once again from the floor. He shot at it once before realising that the whole was moving back towards the wall whence it came.

Laughter from some unseen source flooded the room.

"You have done well indeed," said the gentle, soft voice from before.

"Oh, Chosen One," said the familiar third voice, deep and powerful.

"You have proven yourself worthy," said the firm, confident voice. "Enter the light, Chosen One, and ring the bell to sound your victory."

Green light concentrated itself into a column in the middle of the chamber, just a few feet from where he stood.

"I think the boss fight is over now, Tetra," he told the pirate captain. "They said something about entering that green light and ringing a bell, and the lights are vanishing from Gohdan. Thank you for waiting with me. In fact, thank you for all your help in this dungeon. I appreciate everything you've done for Aryll and me."

"Entering a light? Ringing a bell? I don't know what they're talking about, but, oh well. This was almost… fun. Like going on an adventure. Maybe I'll check in on you again, hero. But for now, I'm getting some much-needed sleep. Good night to you."

"Good night, Tetra," he said, oh-so-softly, as if there were some secret danger to the words.

He shoved the bow back into his messenger bag, and then stowed the messenger bag into his pocket. Then, he headed for the green light, which lifted him up, and up, the moment he stepped into it. It lifted him through the ceiling, into a belfry at the top of the tower.

In the middle of this belfry was a log, supported by two triangular arches of white stone, a bit like a spit. Hanging from the log was a large, bronze bell, which was shiny and new-looking, as if it hadn't been hidden underwater for who-knew-how-long. A conspicuous beam jutted out of the bell where the clapper ought to be, putting him in mind of the grappling hook poles. He sighed, withdrawing the messenger bag yet again.

He took careful aim, ensuring that the hook wrapped securely around the "clapper", and began to swing back and forth on the rod. Some manner of clapper sounded as he swung from side to side. Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong!

As he swung, a blue light—smaller than the green and red that had preceded it—began to form near the edge of the belfry. Although he could not see it from here, the King of Red Lions sailed into the waters enclosed by the circular arcade, as bright yellow light began to shine upon the water's surface.

When the blue light was at last opaque, he detached himself from the rod, storing the grappling hook in his bag, before stepping into the blue light. It lifted him up, and set him down in the sea next to the King of Red Lions. Good thing he could swim.

"Well done, Link Sylvanus!" boomed the King of Red Lions, turning his neck to face Link. "You have proven yourself worthy, and the gods have seen fit to open the path to what fate awaits you. Climb in, and let us venture into the world that awaits within that circle of yellow light you see before you. Do not be alarmed! It is all quite safe!"

With these ominous words, the King of Red Lions began to move towards the light, and Link hastened to climb in.

When they reached the light, they began to sink, as if they had taken water. The waters rose up around them with agonising slowness, and Link waited until the water was over his neck before taking a deep gulp of air, as they continued to sink through that beam of yellow light… down to the sea floor. He clung to the sides of the boat lest he be separated from his only companion in this venture—the only one who would even know he was lost.

And slowly, slowly, they sank through the water. It might have been beautiful under different circumstances. As it was, Link was too focused on not drowning to pay much heed to the distortion of light above and about him, and the deep pure blue of the water around him. He ignored the schools of fish, and floating weeds, in favour of holding his breath.

At last there came a point in which he could hold his breath no longer—and he expelled the air he had inhaled, and breathed in the water, desperate enough for air that his body didn't give his mind time to protest that this was not air at all, but water.

It might have been water, but it behaved just as air did. Instead of drowning, he felt as if he had emerged into a pocket of air. He could feel liquid sliding through his mouth and airways, but it behaved strangely like air—or was air—and he suffered no ill effects.

He wouldn't drown in the beam of light?

He looked around him with interest, now, as a metal rod so smooth and regularly shaped that it must be man-made came into view. A pennant of three triangles—red, blue, green—flapped lazily in the water's current, as if in a breeze.

Beneath it was a pyramidal tower roof, and below that, a rectangular tower, stretching up. They passed first roof, and then tower on their way down. As they did, he noticed two other similar towers, further away, to the left and the right.

Slowly, a castle—a building that he had only seen in Sturgeon's history books, but knew at once as if the word were etched into his soul for safekeeping—rose around them, meeting them as they sank, and sank, and sank.

And suddenly, there was no water around them at all, but he saw that the clear water around them had been exchanged for a bubble of equally clear air. He could feel it in the sudden lack of wetness, and in the change, the alleviation of pressure around him, from the weight of the water. They might have been a mile below the surface, but here, inexplicable, a wall of air kept out the sea.

They settled into what must once have been a fountain—a quaint little pond, with stepping stones leading from a grassy verge bounded by a low rock wall, to the gaping doors of the castle itself. Next these doors, the familiar triple triangle gleamed golden, flanked by rays of light, somehow hanging, unsupported, above a column.

Would he at last learn what they were?

Didn't he already know?

"Link Sylvanus. This is what remains of the kingdom that was drowned beneath the waves in the story your island elders like to tell. This is the kingdom from the legend, the land 'blessed with green forests, tall mountains, and peace'. This is the land that Ganon once tried to conquer, using the power of the Triforce, before he was driven back by the Hero of Time—" again his voice tightened, and it was more obvious both because Link knew the boat better, and because he had been waiting for it, "—wielding the Blade of Evil's Bane: The Master Sword. To put a stop to Ganon's evil plans, the goddesses chose to flood Hyrule. But, now that Ganon has emerged on the world above, a hero of that world must stop him. That is where you come in.

"Enter the castle now, and make your way to the resting place of the legendary artefact. It should be beneath a statue in the main chamber."

There was only one reason his voice would have grown harsh again when he said the word "statue". Well, at least Link knew what he was looking for.

"It may not be readily apparent, but there will be a path to the basement. Find it, and take your place in history!"

Link nodded, and walked into the castle.

Within, he noticed first that statues of monsters stood all around. These were of darknuts, and of moblins, wielding their respective jagged-edged blades and pikes. Next, he noticed that everything around was grey, even things that he was sure ought to be a different colour. There were monochromatic portraits hanging from the walls, in shiny grey frames, railings that had the texture of wood but the colour of slate, and proudly displayed coats of arms and insigniae, all in different shades of grey.

He looked down at himself, and found that his clothes were still green, and his boots were still brown, and his skin was still, if pale, nevertheless not grey. He wondered when he had forgotten that his clothes were those of the Legendary Hero—when they had become normal to him. He was at least as secure and comfortable with wearing them as he had been his old blue shirt and orange pants. Perhaps more so; these clothes were strangely reassuring, and provided more freedom of movement besides. His Grandma had outdone herself.

As he moved past the first railing—that of a wraparound walkway that went around the perimeter of the room, intermittently interrupted with gaps through which three might walk abreast (or one darknut might slide through, if he were careful)—he continued to take in the atmosphere and the scene around him. He passed a second balcony with a statue standing on a pedestal, from which Link deliberately averted his eyes, at least for the moment; he felt very small in this room as it was.

At the lower, far end of the hall, before a door barricaded off by lines of crackling purple energy, there were two or three darknuts, and a moblin. Link saw the angle in which one darknut held his sword, how it stopped just past the column that lay, broken and scattered, upon the floor. Perhaps, these were not mere statues, after all. His eyes narrowed, reassessing the scene around him. An invasion, immortalised in a pictograph. Not good.

He walked up to the crackling energy barrier, and then spun on his heel, marching back whence he had come.

In the centre of the hall, three short slabs of rock rose from the floor. They were flat, and came to about his knees, and were in the shape of triangles, each one pointing in a different direction: one towards the lower left, one to the lower right, and the third towards the entry door.

Nearby, three tall triangular blocks, each rectangular face twice as tall as he, stood scattered about this sunken field.

And facing them, as if watching, stood the statue.

"He… he looks just like me…" Link said, stunned, approaching the statue, whose pedestal was surrounded on three sides by a wooden railing. There were stairs leading up to the statue's balcony, but standing where Link stood now, the statue was beyond his reach. He could only look.

Had its sculptor known the Hero of Time? Was this statue made to his likeness by one who knew him? Did he so resemble his famous ancestor? Yes, whispered the part of his mind devoted to puzzle-solving. Remember how the three guardian spirits reacted when they saw you?

It was true that there were differences. The Hero of Time had bangs that sprang from his forehead in two arches, instead of Link's wild mop of hair. Of course, he hadn't cut his hair in a while. Who knew what it looked like, now? Who knew how it would look if he grew it out; the Hero of Time's hair was apparently worn at least shoulder length, judging by the bangs that framed either side of a very familiar face. He had seen his own face from without only recently, when he had used the "Command Melody". Could descent from the Hero of Time explain just how close the resemblance was? It couldn't be the artist's familiarity with Link's more immediate kin; this statue had been beneath the waves since the goddesses had drowned the kingdom in which it resided.

But, look at the shield it held loosely in its right hand! It looked completely different from the shield he wore on his own back—and not just on account of its lack of colour. While the statue's shield came to a point at the top, his shield was flat across. The design, too, was different—more ornate on the statue's larger shield. The clothes were different from those Link now wore, with a short-sleeved tunic over some sort of tight-fitting undershirt, and gauntlets over those. The stocking cap had no brim.

Against all logic, it was in body shape, face shape, and facial features that Link most resembled the Legendary Hero, if this statue were to be believed. The traditional clothes should have been, but were not, identical. The shield had belonged to the Hero of Time, but it was a different shield than the statue held. And, the sword….

Link at last let his gaze shift to rest upon the sword that the Hero of Time pointed to the sky, holding it aloft, straight up, as if to cut through to the surface. He could see the winged crossguard, and something like a fuller ran around the edge of the blade. Not a fuller, maybe. Well, Link knew nothing about the names of parts of a blade, and it didn't matter, anyway.

After all, he was soon to see the Master Sword itself, wasn't he?

He stared at the triangular blocks around him, and began pulling and pushing them into position, manipulating each equilateral triangle until it formed the familiar design, with a triangular slab each at its outermost point. The moment the last stone fit into place, the triangle thus formed sank into the ground, and then began to glow, not grey, but gold.

The statue Hero lowered his sword, and Link ran up the stairs, and began to pull on the pedestal, which slid backwards easily, revealing a hole to the basement. Stairs—two flights, one right next to the other—led down into darkness. Link leapt into the gap, and then rushed down into the room below.

It looked like a temple down here. There were intricate stained glass windows, more lifelike than many portraits he had seen; they might have been pictographs, but for their more vivid colour. And, the walls were covered in the brightly-coloured stained glass.

They comprised the walls, with a vitreous glint to them, dulled by lack of light shining through them. They must have been ethereally radiant when lit.

They surrounded a ring of seven statues, each one bearing a sword, each in turn surrounding a trapezoidal pedestal that filled him with a sense of foreboding. Sticking out of the pedestal was a sword, with blue hilt, and a design like a red eye in the centre of the crossguard.

Link climbed into the ceremonial circle of statues, feeling as if his limbs were obeying someone other than him himself. There was a sudden need to know welling up within him. The faerie ocarina seemed to hum, in his messenger satchel.

He descended the stairs leading from the circle of statues into a pool of water that ringed the dais, and approached the picture of a giant, pig-faced beast, standing before the triple triangles of the Triforce, and glared at it as hard as he might have glared at the one whom it depicted.

Next this stained glass window, to its right, was a window depicting an old man in plain brown robes, holding the Light Medallion over his head. Rauru, one of the few people in this world more long-winded than the King of Red Lions. He'd had a better guide than the King of Red Lions, too. What was her name?

Ah, yes. Navi. Navi was amazing in so many ways he could never think of how to express. He wished that she were here, with him, now. What would she make of all this?

Link, just try to keep moving forward, alright? Navi's voice echoed in his head. He shrugged, and continued on to the next window.

His chest seemed to constrict as if he had been caught in a vise that was slowly crushing him.

Saria. He reached out, and touched the window, half-convinced that his hand would meet actual flesh, but she was dead. She was long dead. His face seemed to twist into an unfamiliar shape, and he struggled not to cry.

Aryll! he thought, but, for a moment, the name was just a word to him. When he tried to picture Aryll—the owner of the name—all he could see was the girl with green hair, and clear blue eyes.

Because you're different from the rest of my friends. But that doesn't matter, because we'll be friends forever, won't we?

You don't have to explain… Because, it is destiny that you and I can't live in the same world….

That meanie! Has Mido been bullying you again?

…but if you ever want to talk about it, know that I'll listen….

It was too much, remembering Saria and Navi, the two closest things he had ever had to a mother. He turned brusquely, walking quickly, without running, to the other side of the room, following the curve of the dais, but staying in the water.

He stopped before Naburu's portrait. She looked… wrong… depicted thus. Sapped of her vitality, an image instead of a person. She was too remote, too sacrosanct. As the Sage of Spirit, she'd been fully in the thick of it, to make tough choices, but also to tease and to roughhouse. Who was this distant, expressionless woman in the glass? Looking at her, despite how little he had known her in truth, was in its own way as bad as seeing Saria, or not seeing Navi.

He turned, and started heading in the opposite direction. Here was Impa, whose hair looked grey instead of white—blame it on the lighting in this room. Her arms, like those of the other Sages, were held up above her head, as if generating the Medallion they held there. To him, Impa looked wrong when her arms weren't folded in front of her. She also looked strangely young.

The faerie ocarina continued its noiseless hum. He ignored it as best he could, continuing back around the circle. Naburu's had been the last of the stained glass windows, which had been, if only subconsciously, the reason he had stopped and turned there.

This next window was of Ruto, of course. He had to smile at the thought of how he'd neatly avoided marrying her. They'd never marry now, after all. The danger was past. She was such a controlling, demanding woman, if much more mature than the spoilt brat she had been. She would have worn him ragged, hero or not. She deserved someone who appreciated her quick tongue and harsh comments. Someone who would enjoy arguing with her.

You're looking for Princess Zelda, aren't you? You can't hide anything from me!

His eyes traveled the circumference of the room, realising that he, Sheik, and Zelda were all missing from the windows. Even Ganondorf had been here, and he could understand his own absence (he winced at the thought of the statue blocking this room from easy access or view), but Zelda? Where was she?

Hiding, he decided. Disguised as something else. It would be fitting.

He finished off his window-viewing in front of Darunia's portrait. Again too solemn, again too distant, Darunia's expression, ironically, held no warmth. But, Darunia had been far from a stranger.

He had been a companion, and family, and, occasionally, a guide through hard times and places, a pillar of strength, bulwark against evil. They'd spent a lot of time around one another, even when he had been a child. Darunia had told him many things about the gorons, Death Mountain, and bomb flowers. He'd given Link advice on the subjects of Zelda and Ruto, as Navi giggled and teased, and he'd come up with training regimens to help Link improve his skills. He'd also helped plan and scheme, and opened Link's eyes to a better understanding of the world in which he found himself. And, all of that before the gap of seven years.

Mentor, friend, brother, in the truest sense of the word. He'd had to explain what parents were, and what real siblings were, first, but he and Link had become fast friends. This, this here, this was not Darunia. Darunia wasn't even properly Darunia without his broad grin.

Link frowned, arms akimbo, looking around the room again. From the stairs leading to the dais was a bridge over water. If Zelda were hiding somewhere, it would be there. But, he was sure that, even if he found her, he would not react well. Just see how he'd reacted to Darunia and Impa!

The Master Sword glinted, beckoning him. He was standing right beside the stairs out of the water, and the Master Sword was clearly visible. He climbed the stairs back onto the dais, and cocked his head at what looked to be the actual Pedestal of Time. He was now more than a bit wary and hesitant. If he drew the sword, he wouldn't lose seven years, would he? He couldn't afford that, not with Aryll and who-knew-who-else in immediate danger. Aryll!

He still couldn't remember what she looked like, but he remembered who she was, now. Perhaps, it was the memory of discussing the idea of siblings with Darunia. Who knew?

He approached the Master Sword, slowly, reverently. It was a blade worthy of respect.

With the strangest feeling of déjà vu, he moved to stand directly before the pedestal, his feet automatically bracing themselves. He looked around at the circle of statues as he reached for the blade. They all bore swords. Would they attack?

Well, no matter. The Master Sword, after all, chose me . In a sense, I'm only reclaiming what I already possess. If they are here to deter would-be thieves, I have done no wrong. And, in this bastion, surely no evil would animate these statues to life.

He steeled himself, reaching out once more for the Blade of Evil's Bane. He grasped the hilt, and with a single tug, drawn out for the sake of the ceremony that this location seemed to enforce, the blade at last came free from its rest.

Something shifted overhead. He thought that he heard the clanking of heavy armour. A trap?

I've been waiting for you, Hero of Time.

Well done, kid! As I thought, you held the keys to the Sacred Realm.

The Master Sword was the final key to the Sacred Realm.

Link frowned, staring over at the staircase. Monsters were not terribly observant; he doubted that they realised that the staircase was here, yet, but…. Had he just made the same mistake twice?

And, why did the Master Sword seem… feeble? Dull.

He was distracted from his thoughts, as the statues, one after another, lowered their swords at him. He was ringed by swords that he had every confidence were as sharp and cutting as real swords. He wasn't sure that he dared to move. He looked around for a scabbard for the sword, and saw it hanging at one of the statue's sides. Out of reach, unless he somehow disarm the statues. Well, he couldn't leave unless he did, either. He removed Orca's sword in its scabbard with his right hand, and with his left, slung the Master Sword, unsheathed, through his bandolier.

He focused hard on the faerie ocarina, feeling the hum of its energy. He knew that there was another way to store items. He could remember it, now. He willed it into his hands, and the faerie ocarina appeared there. With an eyebrow raised at the statues, he put the ocarina to his lips, and played "Zelda's Lullaby". There was a pause, then, with complete silence save for the sound of heavy clanking above. The faerie ocarina disappeared back into his messenger bag, as he directed his thought to that goal.

Then, the statues dropped their swords, one by one, and he yanked the sheath for the Master Sword off the bandolier of the statue in front of him, carefully sheathing the Master Sword, settling the sheath in place.

The statues bowed, one after the other, and Link ducked out of their circle, picking up Orca's sword, and pulling out his messenger bag to store the sword, that he might return it to Orca when next they met.

He drew the Master Sword, that he not be unarmed when he returned into a place of probable danger, and raced back up the stairs, and the statue (don't think about that, he ordered himself, to try to avoid the inevitable slip into madness that would cause) slid back to cover the hole, and the staircase. The nearest monsters hadn't even seen him yet. Nor did the movement of the statue catch their eyes.

He drew the shield from off his back, staring at the purple crackling wall of energy that blocked the door leading back to the courtyard. His eyes narrowed, as he surveyed the room once more.

It was a large room, but teeming with moblins and darknuts. They seemed to travel in groups, two darknuts to a single moblin, or the reverse. Near where he stood was a cluster of two darknuts, and two moblins. Might as well start there. Well, what was there to wait for? What was there to fear? He had the Master Sword!

He ran around to the stairs leading down from the balcony, and, replacing the shield on his back, he willed the boomerang into his hands, throwing it at the two moblins. This would catch their attention, but the darknuts had trouble seeing, owing to the helmets obstructing their view.

Both of these darknuts had both sword and shield. He shrugged, confident that he could handle them. He had the Master Sword!

Holding the Mater Sword was a bit like having a reunion with an old friend and ally. It wasn't as if Navi had appeared, but he could hold his own without her, for a little while. Just until he found her.

She was out there somewhere…right?

He snuck around the darknuts before they noticed him, jumping to cut the ties that held the armour to their bodies. Said armour fell to the ground, exploding in a puff of black smoke, and the darknut in question—and its companion—whirled to face him.

He tried to stay out of the range of attack of the statue he had just dearmoured, but within the line of sight of the other, still armoured, darknut. The darknuts, being not terribly savvy enemies, didn't realise that he had positioned himself so that a blow from the armoured darknut in his direction would strike the unarmoured one.

Not even when the armoured one cut the helmet off his fellow himself. Link glanced over at the moblins, who were beginning to stir, and replaced the shield on his back, willing the boomerang to return to him. He threw it at them again, and then replaced the shield. The darknuts were intelligent enough to lunge at him in his moment of vulnerability, but he backflipped away from them.

He knew better than to try to block one of their blows. Instead, he repositioned himself so that the darknut who was accidentally helping him would hit his friend again.

The unarmoured darknut slashed at him, and he took the opportunity to parry, pressing aside the other's blade, and cutting the ties holding the previously helmeted darknut's helm in place.

This one had black fur, unlike the normal brown-furred darknuts. He wondered if that was significant. Come to think of it, its armour was differently coloured, too—all black and gold, instead of silver and red. Was there a darknut hierarchy?

He ducked under another blow from the helmless armoured darknut, as the other darknut exploded in black smoke. He caught the Knight's Crest with the Master Sword, as it fell, and willed it into his messenger bag. He glanced back over at the moblins, but there wasn't the time to hit them again. He parried an attack from the remaining darknut, finally cutting off the armour, and the moblins marched forwards. Their movements were too erratic, but, perhaps if he disarmed the darknut, he could finish them off before the monster retrieved its sword. It was worth a try.

Darknuts never expected parry attacks. It was as if they were unfamiliar with the move. That was why they kept trying the same moves over and over. Link shrugged to himself, as the sword went flying towards the balcony with the statue on it.

He did not react in time to prevent the spear of a moblin from piercing his side. It was low enough down that he thought he wasn't in any immediate danger, but he cursed his inattention anyway.

The darknut was running over towards the balcony. He had to finish off both moblins quickly. Perhaps, it hadn't been the best idea to start with the most populous of the monster parties, but… he had the Master Sword! He could win this, right?!

He went on a ruthless offensive, making sure to hit at least one moblin with every blow. It took four hits to kill off a single moblin, which struck him as odd. The Master Sword ought to have been much stronger than the sword that Orca had given him. Indeed, it had never taken so many blows to finish off a moblin before. Were these moblins particularly strong? But… they looked just like the moblins from Dragon Roost Cavern, even.

He felt the air move behind him, and he ducked, rolling to avoid the darknut's blow. Time to think about moblins and the Master Sword later. There were still plenty of moblins and darknuts patrolling these halls.

The next time that he managed to get under the darknut's guard, he cut off the arm holding the sword, Knight's Crest and all, grabbing the Knight's Crest, and willing it into his messenger bag even as he ducked to avoid the darknut's attempts to bash him with its shield.

He backflipped, then settled the shield on his back, because there was no use for it when the sword of a darknut would probably make it buckle into useless scrap metal. He'd save the shield for his encounters with moblins.

He slashed at the moblin. Then, the darknut moved its shield forward in an attempt to bash Link again. He reached around the shield, and cut off the other arm, and then hacked freely at the monster. Four down… only about twelve to go.

This would take a while.

He bent down to the balls of black smoke that moblins always left behind, and broke one open, relieved to find life potions within. Haha! Despite the disgusting taste, he downed as many as were hidden within, and the wound in his side healed. Now, he could continue on his quest to rid the entire room of its many monsters, absolutely none of which were anything other than darknuts or moblins.

On the plus side, this meant that there were no wizzrobes. He'd seen enough of those in Termina, alone.

But hey: he had the Master Sword! He could do this!

He didn't know how much time he spent in this endeavour, for even had he not been inside a vast, windowless hall, he was deep beneath the surface of the sea. The thrill of battle kept him from thinking about the passage of time, and he was not quite himself, anyway.

Eventually, he managed to defeat the rest of the moblins, and the darknuts, and when he had, the violet energy barriers disappeared from before both doors. Knowing that he might not have another chance to do this, he walked out of the lower door, to find himself on a walkway high over the moat. He walked along this path for a short distance before he was arrested by an invisible wall, which showed itself in patches of purple and yellow when he whacked at the very solid barrier with the Master Sword. He couldn't see it, but he could feel that it was smooth and cold, and very tall and broad, continuing even further than the span of the walkway.

It was an impassable barrier, for now, he decided, after trying everything from bashing it with the shield to throwing bombs at it. He thought he had encountered such a barrier before, somewhere, but wasn't sure if he had, or if so, where. It was only a sense of startling, if unplaceable, familiarity.

He backtracked, then, musing to himself about the nature of quests, and dungeons, and about the mysterious feebleness of the Master Sword. He was certain that the Sword was supposed to be stronger than this, and that it didn't look quite right, either. The memory of how it was supposed to look was strangely hazy, however, and it was impossible to know for sure.

He was still contemplating such matters when he emerged back into the courtyard, with its stepping-stones and stilled fountain. He saw the boat in front of him, and his head began to ache.

Part of his mind was telling him that this was the King of Red Lions, his guide, who was trying to help him rescue his sister, and the other was saying that there was something very suspicious about this stranger, and how was a boat able to speak? If it were able to speak, it ought to be judged just as the rest of cognisant beings were.

He frowned, and folded his arms once more. The boat had yet to notice him; it gave a great yawn. He wondered if he could just leave it behind and continue the quest on his own; he knew the way to the Forsaken Fortress, and Tetra seemed to be more kindly disposed to him now. But, for all he knew, the only way back to the surface was via boat. Even if it weren't, he could hardly swim to the nearest inhabited island; his body wasn't strong enough to fight the sea currents and tides for what would surely be several days' swim.

There was something oddly familiar about this boat…. He would have to keep his eye on it.

He walked back to the ring of light, and the waiting boat, pretending he was only pleased (and a bit awed) to have found and acquired the Legendary Sword

"I got the Sword!" he said, with a bright smile, and the boat smiled back, indulgent. Link maintained his cheery smile only through effort of will. The King of Red Lions was probably not evil, and probably deserved his gratitude and respect, for leading him here, if nothing else, but his behaviour was often rather off-putting.

"Very well done," said the boat, with evident distraction. "Now climb inside, and we will enter the ring of light that will return us to the world above."

Link frowned, and tried to sound as if he did not much care about the answer when he asked, "That ring of light—is it always there? Can we come back here again?"

The boat half-turned back to look at him, but settled for continuing to glide ahead.

"The path will open as the goddesses see fit," he said, which probably meant that the King of Red Lions opened the way somehow. Link frowned, but continued to stare straight ahead, trying to think of anything, something to talk about rather than remembering what had happened inside those walls, and returning to the question that he had already asked himself several times within: just who am I?

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Return to the (Not-Yet)-Forsaken Fortress

Link and the King of Red Lions arrived at the Forsaken Fortress three-and-a-half days later. They had emerged from the ring of light at around dawn, and it had vanished, and the King of Red Lions had given one of his usual long-winded speeches, which Link usually tried to listen to, but was now too distracted even to try.

He was tired, too, once the heady rush of battle and danger had worn off. The injuries he'd received from various monsters still stung with phantom pain. It was unpleasant, but somehow expected. He had downed enough potion to heal the least superficial parts of his wounds, but it hadn't been enough for a full healing. He had blue potion in his messenger bag, but he was saving it for a truly hopeless scenario.

The King of Red Lions had gone on for quite a bit longer than usual, too, about the magic of the Blade of Evil's Bane, just as if Link had never heard the island legend. He frowned occasionally, but was thinking mostly about what conclusions he ought to draw from his experiences in the sacred chamber.

One time, after all, could be dismissed as a fluke, but this made two that he had been assaulted by visions, and voices, or memories. But, what were they? Wishful thinking? Illusion? Vision? Or…(this last was absurd) memories?

Perhaps, as he had proven himself to Din by purging Dragon Roost Cavern, she had shown him scenes from the past in order to… what? Knowledge of the past was appreciable, when you liked learning the history for its own sake, but it wasn't terribly helpful.

He was still considering the matter on their second day of travel, which was when he reached the conclusion that, whatever they were, they were meant to help him, and could be relied upon for knowledge of strategy and combat if nothing else.

Were they true? On this, he had to reserve judgement. There didn't even seem to be a way to learn whether or not his visions were accurate, but they hadn't yet failed to match up with reality, in the rare instances when junctures and fusions could be made between "past" and present.

He wished he better recalled what had happened in the Forbidden Woods, but the memory was a blur, much as his experiences beneath the waves had become after he had caught up on his sleep. Still, this was, potentially at least, advice straight from the gods; they would not have chosen him, and given him access to the world beneath, if he were hampered by delusions. There might even be some use to these visions.

Now, after half a week, they had arrived at the Forsaken Fortress, at sundown. The sun seemed to set a bit more swiftly the closer they got to the looming stone edifice, but that might just have been the foreboding chill it sent into the air, or the smoke from the cannonballs it sent towards them as they approached.

The King of Red Lions made his way around to a side door, the height of a towering tree, made of long, seamlessly joined planks of wood—or perhaps long planks taken from a single tall tree. The door towered into the heavens, with its heavy iron doorjamb, high, high up—far too high for a puny human such as Link to reach.

A cannonball rocked the boat nearby, and Link had the idea that The King of Red Lions had doubtless hoped that he would, and pulled out the bomb bag, which shifted into a cannon around his hands.

He shot once, twice, thrice, against the jamb, and after a hail of blows, the door fell into the water with a mighty splash.

Was this meant to be the boat's inconspicuous entry? Ganon must be aware of their presence. It was inevitable, after such a racket and flash of lights as this—and he must have known, even before, because how else had the cannons targeted him… unless they had their own volitions?

The King of Red Lions sighed, and, shaking his head, turned back to Link, not bothering to keep his voice down, because—why bother?

"I had hoped to make a slightly stealthier entrance than that," he said reproachfully, but Link, reflecting upon his first exploration of this place, could think of no less ostentatious means of entry. The only entrances to the fortress low enough for him to enter through were all tall, wooden doors, much like this one. He might have attempted to climb the walls, he supposed, even though they were covered with cannons, and he would have been shot off the wall and killed long before he reached the top, but! He might have tried that.

He did not voice this idea to the King of Red Lions, instead silently taking responsibility for the disaster that was the start of this iteration of his rescue mission.

"Do you remember the way?" asked the King of Red Lions, and Link smiled and nodded absently, as he slung the messenger bag, now with bomb bag inside, back into his pocket.

"Oh, yes. I should have no trouble finding Aryll and the others, as long as they haven't moved her." Link crossed his arms, fixing the King of Red Lions with a blank expression. The boat rocked, and crept into the very pool of water he had fallen into what seemed years ago. Had it even been a month?

The King of Red Lions sighed again, and Link noticed, perhaps for the first time, that the boat's literally wooden expression made it hard to tell what he thought about any given subject unless he vocalised his opinions. It must be a bit like having a permanent mask on, being a boat.

"For now, let us assume that they have not done this. It doesn't look as though there are many areas in the Fortress with enough space for storing prisoners. I understand that rescuing your sister is your first priority, but do not forget that you must also defeat Ganon. He will be at the highest point of this fortress, in the shipwreck you can see high above you."

Link hesitated, but then reached into the messenger bag for Aryll's telescope, pointing it high in the sky to see what little he could make out of the shipwreck at the top of the Forsaken Fortress, but the angle was all wrong. He did, however, notice the great helmeted bird, awake and stirring about in its vast nest. He shuddered, but reasoned that, as he was going to be inside for most of the time; there was no reason for it to come after him again. The block he'd pulled aside for easy access to a ladder to the second floor was still there, as was the ladder itself.

The King of Red Lions had continued speaking, unaware of Link's wandering thoughts, even as Link had considered all of these matters, firming his resolve to see the ordeal through to its end. What was he talking about now? The pirates? Not to worry about the other girls, the pirates would doubtless rescue them for the hefty sum their parents would pay for their return?

Link sighed, and somehow kept himself from shifting on his feet as he stood on the ledge next to the water, the landing just before a flight of steps led up onto the main platform. Every second he took, he gave the enemy more time to react to his presence, and he had few doubts that they had already added some nasty surprises for him, in case he ever return.

"Thank you for the advice," Link said, at last, with a bow. "You have been of great assistance to me on my quest. I appreciate it."

The King of Red Lions frowned, clearly meaning to add something else, but Link slipped past him, up the stairs, and into the vast, open area that was constantly being swept by searchlights. He wanted to get out of the area as soon as possible, but every way forward was now barricaded off with thick, thorny brambles covering the floor, and draping over the sides of walls, wandering across passageways, and climbing through holes in wood and stone. He hacked at one blocking the stone walkway he had used before, but the Sword barely nicked it (this is the Master Sword? this?), and he pulled out the bombs instead.

At last, he conceded defeat, heading back into the main chamber, thinking that he might go back down the landing and consult with the King of Red Lions, at the very least.

But, as he approached the path which he had earlier trod, spikes sprang up, blocking his way, and a presentiment of danger had him backflipping from an attack he only sensed, and an evil whose whereabouts he only guessed.

It was a huge ball of yellow light that burst into the stones, shattering the floor around him into flat shards.

He looked up, and there, floating in the sky, was a figure, high above, blacker than the sky its backdrop, blocking out the stars. He had the impression of a greatsword clutched in one hand, and a horned helmet. What was this thing?

It's Phantom Ganon! …Answer his magic attack with an attack of your own! a shrill voice said, somewhere nearby. Only that voice wasn't here at all, let alone nearby—only the memory of it made it seem to be.

How to attack such a figure from a distance? He could use the bow, but he had the sense that he was missing something. A fragment of memory, perhaps, like an unraveling thread, and the knowledge that the Master Sword was designed for fighting the most powerful evils in the world. How to bring it to bear on the enemy, though?

Would an arrow send Phantom Ganon to the ground? The blasts of cannons all around it didn't seem to deter it. Its erratic movements made attacking from afar difficult to impossible, and the fact that it was in the air made attacking it at close range even more so.

It gathered another ball of bright yellow light. This was clearly a very destructive type of magic. What would happen if he tried to cut through it with the Master Sword? That's your first impulse? he mocked himself. Attacking an attack?

Answer his magic attack…

The ball of light approached. Link set his feet, and drew the Master Sword. …with an attack of your own!

He swung the blade so that the flat of it hit the ball of light which, like a physical object, seemed to have edges and a solid coating to it. This was what had enabled it to cause so much damage upon impact.

He put strength into his blow, whacking the light, which changed colour to a sort of forest green as the Master Sword connected with and purified it, back toward Phantom Ganon. As the spell returned to its originator, the Phantom swung his own blade (a shadowy greatsword edged in light), hitting it with the flat of its own blade, changing the energy back to yellow, and sending it back towards Link. Was it moving faster now?

Link swung the Master Sword at the ball of light again, watching the light change back to forest green as it returned to Phantom Ganon, who hastened to swing his own sword again, to send the ball back towards Link. It was definitely moving faster now.

Link hastened to swing the Master Sword again, and the green light swiftly counterattacked by Phantom Ganon again, turning it back to yellow as it hurtled back towards Link, who swung the Master Sword, almost in self-defence rather than as an attack. He was almost using the Master Sword in a guard position.

He swung even before his ball of light reached Phantom Ganon, and the Sword was in position in time to return the ball to its originator. This time, the two collided, with a painful-sounding explosion, and a loud, reverberating groan from Phantom Ganon, who sank to the ground, needing to restore and purge his own magic energy.

Link took the opportunity to approach Phantom Ganon, as he clutched the ground on hands and knees. It might have been a pathetic sight on a living creature, but on this boss, it was like watching a dangerous monster licking its wounds.

Mostly because that was more-or-less what was going on in truth.

Link sliced at the shadow, trying to aim for the places where vital organs were on human beings. Phantom Ganon was not, of course, a human being—and blows inflicted by the Master Sword were equally damaging to it, regardless of location. The best thing to do was to maximise the area exposed to the Master Sword's magic.

Link managed to hit Phantom Ganon several times (it made smaller groans of pain than before, flailing backwards as it struggled to regain its uncomfortable sprawl).

Eventually, however, it had restored its magic, and up it floated, once again. It worked! thought Link to himself, with a grin.

Then he focused once more on the boss, hovering high in the air above him. Link backflipped a couple of times to create enough distance that he would have time to react to Phantom Ganon's next attack, and waited, while Phantom Ganon hovered, moving from side to side in the middle of the air.

Finally, it drew back its empty left hand, and energy of a familiar yellow hue began to gather there.

Link drew the Master Sword, and waited as the energy began to approach him once more. Again, he swung the Master Sword at the ball of energy, sending it back toward Phantom Gannon, now coloured green instead of yellow.

He was already beginning to fall into the rhythm of the battle, almost without realising reading his opponent's moves. He could see that he was faster than Phantom Ganon, and that as long as he stayed alert, eventually, Phantom Ganon would fail to respond in time. That didn't stop the battle rush that accompanied every blow, as they sent the ball of energy back and forth. He was certain, judging by Phantom Ganon's incapacitation and the noise it made when the light sent it to the ground, that it would be very painful indeed to be hit by that light.

Phantom Ganon fell to the ground, once again, but Link had seen the energy hit it, and was already moving forwards, hacking at the undead thing.

After several blows, with the shadow slowly casing what passed for wounds in its imitation of flesh, Phantom Ganon rose again, higher, and higher, and then what looked like a purple vortex of light appeared in the sky, and drew the monster in. As it was pulled in, something fell from the area of its hands.

Judging by how it plummeted, the thing that fell was huge and undoubtedly heavy. Link raised his shield to try to defend himself from any debris that might be generated by the impact with the area on which he stood.

He had forgotten about the searchlights, too focused on the battle to notice, until they swept over the item as it landed. There was a long wooden stick, and attached to it, a blunt-edged metallic object, glinting dully even in the searchlight. It hit the ground hard, sending fragments of the stones that made up the former arena flying. Link waited until the clattering died down before peering over the rim of his shield, to where the item lay on the ground. It did not look overtly dangerous. As if it would hurt him to touche it, the way that the Blade of Evils Bane was said to burn those of evil intent who even tried to touch the handle (if in reverse).

He walked over to it, and examined it more closely. There was no presentiment of danger coming from it—no warning chills went down his back at his proximity. He went to the head of the object, and realised that it was a hammer, like those he had seen used by builders, only much bigger—at least as big as he was. The head of the hammer looked as if it would weigh too much for him to lift the thing, but he took hold of the end of the handle nonetheless, and lifted.

It wasn't as bad as he had feared; as long as he used both hands, he could lift, and probably even swing, it. It was heavy, sure, and unwieldy, but Link thought that he could use it. It still hadn't harmed him, either.

He remembered the brambles crawling over the way forwards, and smiled to himself. This was, after all, a dungeon, and dungeons had a way of providing. There would always be a way forward…eventually.

He brought the hammer over to where the previously untouchable briars were, and began to smash them into wooden shards. What were almost invulnerable to sharp edges proved all too sensitive to a massive exertion of weight. Link smiled and nodded to himself even as he pulled out the messenger bag. As with the bow, there was no way that this could fit, and yet it did, nonetheless.

He shoved the hammer into the bag, and then climbed over what remained of the brambles, making his way upwards, along the familiar path around the perimeter of the fortress.

The path he trod was much the same as it had been before, save for the fact that now many of the doors were barred off by the wandering briars, which grew even indoors. He had the sense that these were not naturally occurring phenomena, and tried not to remember the green-blue flowers of the Forbidden Woods. The last thing he needed right now was more visions to distract him.

At last, he came to the base of the tower, which was still patrolled by the moblins. Time might not have passed at all, for all that this room had changed. There was still the same number of moblins patrolling the area around a pond, far below. This time, however, he was armed, and there was no possibility of mercy. Stealth, then, and haste. These two things did not usually mix well.

Link drew sword and shield, wishing he had more arrows, and that he were more certain as to what lay ahead.

He waited by the entryway for the nearer moblin to approach, and then he attacked, while they were hidden from the view of the other moblin. The breaking of the lantern set the wooden floor ablaze, and Link decided that caution would not be enough in this venture, and ran. He was aware that his escape route was being destroyed behind him, but decided that he didn't need one; he had the Deku Leaf. What was concerning was that it would make it more difficult to bring the rescued girls back this way, but that problem would have stood no matter what. The important thing was to reach the stone staircase before the entire walkway burnt to ash.

There was a pool of water below. The girls could probably swim across, if need be, but how to get back to the door through which Link had entered?

The moblins prioritised putting out the flame, which was smart of them. Link focused on getting through the door, thinking he would have cause to thank the monsters, if they succeeded in their task.

He opened the door back into the cool night air, remembering the climb up to his borrowed sword as if it had happened years ago. So much had happened since then! He felt that he had been rather foolish before. But, the Helmaroc King was still sitting in its nest, high above him, seeming unaware of Link's presence. This time, the rescue attempt would work. Link was sure of it.

He drew the sword, and the shield from his back, and lunged for the approaching moblin, as it came around the corner. He followed this with a couple of swift thrusts, and the monster disappeared in the customary puff of black smoke. He broke open the resulting black ball, glad to see that it contained arrows, among other things. He had less use for bombs, or rupees, or the green little magic potions, but he was not about to overlook them.

He pulled out the messenger bag, and stuffed the bombs and the arrows in for temporary safekeeping. He didn't know what else he might encounter here, after all, although the Helmaroc King was too big and solid for most weapons to even scratch it. The metal mask protected one of its few vulnerable areas, and he suspected that, had it felt its chest to be as vulnerable, it would have worn some sort of covering. Arrows would not avail him against this foe—an arrow even slightly off the mark would break. He would just have to hope that the monstrous bird stayed well away from him.

Thinking such thoughts, he wended his way around the curving path, pausing when he came to the spike trap, which was barricaded off by the first appearance of crawling brambles he had seen since he had started encountering moblins again.

He took out the hammer, whacked away at the brambles, and crossed to look at the balcony, and the one in which he had fought the bokoblin before. A presentiment of dread crept up his spine as he noticed a complete absence of foes. He shook his head, telling himself that there certainly would be enemies rushing him if he stood there and waited, but listened closely for any sign of approaching foes, pulling out Aryll's telescope to survey the ground and air around him.

When he found nothing amiss, he raised the bar of the great double doors as quietly as he could, slowly… slowly.

He pushed the door only slightly ajar in order to creep inside, lest the light of the interior catch some monster's attention.

This room, too, was much as he remembered it. There was a grate covering a hole in the middle of the room, and a wooden ramp leading in a spiral around the sides, the underside of it forming part of the roof of the cages, which was where his attention was drawn.

He didn't have a key. This was such an obvious oversight that, for a moment, he could only stand there. But, Aryll had turned to face the door as it opened, as had most of the other girls. The girl in the hoop skirt seemed no friendlier than before, bending over to hiss something in his younger sister's ear. Judging by her narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, it was not anything pleasant.

"Big Brother!" Aryll cried. "You came!"

He gave a sharp nod, and ran over to the lock. He couldn't see any apparent flaws in its design. If he could pick locks, he wouldn't bother gathering up the keys that filled the average dungeon.

"Need some help with that?" asked a familiar voice, and he started, whirling around to look at the girl who stood at the base of the ramp, arms crossed, leaning back against the slats of wood with an expression that suggested that this was routine for her.

"Te-Tetra?" he asked. He hadn't been expecting her, although perhaps he should have. She had, after all, asked whether or not he was heading back to the Forsaken Fortress.

She ignored him, saying, "Honestly, don't you ever learn from your mistakes? You do realise that we had to call off that monstrous bird for you, right? You shouldn't just charge in without thinking."

This was so unfair of her that he opened his mouth to argue, but Tetra had not yet finished.

"Lucky for you, I was paying attention to your movements, and we were able to come here in time to help you. We're professionals at this sort of thing. And, we can always ransom the other girls back to their families."

"'Ransom'?" whispered a girl in tattered clothes, with auburn hair.

"You're going to sell us back to our families?" asked the haughty girl. "But…."

"My father doesn't have any money…" the auburn-haired girl continued. Tetra ignored them both.

"Take them," she said, with a lazy glance behind her, at where Link now realised most of the rest of the crew stood. Gonzo and Senza easily hefted the first two girls, and the surprisingly strong Zuko and Mako each carried another off.

They walked back up the ramp, which must be how they entered.

Link turned back to Aryll, and heard Tetra gasp.

"That sword!" she cried, and he remembered the sketch he had seen in her cabin. "That's never—you can't be…. Are you…?"

It was so rare to see Tetra at a loss for words that Link barely refrained from commenting. As he watched, she held her hands up in a shrug, with a grin at her own perceived folly, and a muttered. "Nah… he can't be. That would be ridiculous."

Perhaps, he wasn't supposed to hear that. There was a moment's pause, as Link considered what he ought to do now. The priority was getting Aryll to safety, but apparently the Helmaroc King had noticed him after all; she wasn't safe with him as long as that bird was around. And, he still had to fight Ganon….

Tetra seemed to be waiting for something, probably her subordinates.

The pirates came back down the ramp a short time later, for a second load of girls. They looked over at their leader, and at Link.

"Her too," said Tetra, pointing at Aryll. Link opened his mouth to protest, and then shut it again. Aryll would be safer with the pirates than anywhere else, wouldn't she? They were always on the move; that was why the Helmaroc King hadn't abducted the captain a second time.

"But—" Aryll began to protest in his stead, and Link's stomach clenched. She didn't know, after all, about his responsibility, the duty that the King of Red Lions had laid upon him.

Or that, perhaps, had always been his.

"Aryll—that's your name, right?—I want you to listen to me," said Tetra, in a surprisingly soothing, gentle voice. Then, she did have a soft side! "Your brother wasn't just here to rescue you. And, right now, he has big, important grown-up things to do. But, you'll see him when all of this is over with, so don't worry. Sylvanus, reassure her that we're not just kidnapping her, here."

He turned to Aryll, and gave her his best smile. She was preternaturally skilled at sensing whether or not they were genuine or exaggerated, so his smile was smaller than it might otherwise have been. "It's alright, Aryll. Go with the pirates. Tetra was the one who brought me here the last time, and she's right. I do have some things I need to take care of. But, we'll go home and see Grandma again. I promise. Just behave for the pirates… alright?"

Aryll nodded, stoic and with forced calm, and Link felt a pang at the thought of how swiftly she'd been forced to grow up. Almost like—

He turned to Tetra, and they waited, together, for a little while. There was a sound, far off, a whooshing of air.

"You've got some matters requiring your immediate attention, I think, Sylvanus. But, when you're done with that, I think I'll take my stone back."

She turned and walked out the door through which Link had entered, and water began to bubble up in the grate, as if the water underneath were boiling.

Wait. Since when was there water under there? Actually, it looked like the bubbles that might come from someone vast holding their breath underwater, only to expel it as they reached the surface.

He leapt backwards, and a moment later, the grate flew off and hit the wall under the ramp leading upwards, and a huge helmeted head emerged from the hole, swiftly followed by the rest of a bird.

There wasn't enough room to fight in this chamber, Link realised. That left only one reasonable course of action. He had to head up!

He didn't glance at the ramp as he jumped onto it, and began to run. He ran as fast as he could, but the Helmaroc King could fly, and was inevitably swifter than he. As he ran, the Helmaroc King would bash holes into the platform by ramming his beak into it. Link knew that it was trying to stop his momentum, and bar any chance of Link making it to the top of this winding ramp (and there had to be a top, didn't there?). Whilst Link was trapped on the narrow ramp, or its equally narrow landings, the Helmaroc King, being unconfined, had the advantage even without the consideration that this was its home turf.

Link ignored the bokoblins leaping out of where they had concealed themselves into jars to pursue his upward course, never pausing or hesitating, leaping across the great gaps. He ran and ran, long past the point where he thought he ought to have collapsed, as his legs protested and his body cried out for more air.

They climbed for what seemed eternity, with what amounted to an established pattern of running, the beak crashing into the ramp ahead, and jumping over the gap. Link paid no heed to any of the vases, disregarding whatever they might contain, item, nothing, foe, hoping to make it to the top first, even though he had never seen the area.

At last, he made it to the end of the ramp, but the Helmaroc King landed on the stone floor at its end. He caught only a brief glimpse of what lay at the top of the wooden stairs before the Helmaroc King stuck its beak down, covering the ramp, so that Link would have to fight it to get past. Link remembered his earlier speculation that the body would be invulnerable, but the head was protected by that mask.

He supposed that he could try to fire at the eyes, but from up close it was even clearer that the mask was designed to nullify just such an attack. On the other hand, if he could just break that mask….

The hammer had belonged to the powerful Phantom Ganon, a comrade of sorts of the Helmaroc King. Perhaps, whatever metal had been used to make the mask had been used for the hammer's head as well. Still, what would be stronger—the hammer or the mask? Just what was the mask made of, anyway?

He pulled the messenger bag out, warily watching the lunging Helmaroc King, deliberately not looking over the side, and pulled out the hammer, stuffing the messenger bag back inside his pocket before turning back to the boss.

He swung at the side of the head facing the wall into which the ramp was built, and the bird shrieked, lost its balance, and fell into the rising waters below.

Wait. Rising waters? Link had been too busy running to notice that the prisoner room had flooded. Wow.

He waited a moment, as the Helmaroc King sank beneath the water, beak wide open as if still emitting that shriek.

He climbed up the ramp into a circular arena, and the gap narrowed into the shape of a triskelion as the three slabs of rock began to cover the gap. But, just before the gap closed, the Helmaroc King rose through the narrow opening, twirling like a dancer as it breached the narrow gap and gained the sky, its home turf.

Link should have known that there would be no avoiding the boss. This reckoning had been coming for weeks.

He shifted the hammer so that the majority of its weight fell onto his shoulders, and watched the Helmaroc King as it flew high in the sky. For a moment, he wondered if the bird wasn't going to report in to Ganon. Then a black shape loomed in from the night, as the Helmaroc King swooped down on him, buffeting him with a huge gust of wind.

As Link dodged the attack, jumping aside, the Helmaroc King came to stand on clumsy feet unaccustomed to walking. It spread its wings to maintain its balance as it stomped towards Link. Link stayed exactly where he was, trying to figure out what the bird meant to do. But, with both of its talons supporting its weight on the ground, there was nothing else it might do, but attack with its beak. Perhaps, it would peck at him, or perhaps it would bite at him.

When it came close enough, it thrust its neck downwards. Link backflipped, but the beak continued on its trajectory, burying itself into the stone, sending shards flying. Link moved forwards, taking advantage of the fact that the bird was trapped and struggling to pull itself free to whack at the mask with the hammer.

It was immensely gratifying when he heard a cracking noise come from the metallic substance, and he watched the cracks spread from the point of impact as he continued battering the mask.

But, the enormous bird wrenched its beak out of the hole it had made (which was a surprisingly small hole, considering its originator), and once more took to the skies.

Link could swear that he saw a grin turn up the corners of the vast mouth as the boss swooped down from high in the sky (far outside Link's eyesight, or even, he suspected, although he did not dare to spend the time it would take to remove it to look, the range of the telescope), and began to flap its wings, sending gusts of air buffeting him backwards.

He planted his feet, but it drove him back, so he dropped the hammer to the side, holding his arms up to shield his face, he ran, pushing against the wind. There were probably spikes at the edges of the arena, although there hadn't been before; he had the sense that he had encountered a similar boss somewhere. It was important not to be pushed into the wall even if there weren't spikes there.

Eventually, the pressure of wingbeats subsided, and Link looked to see the bird rising again into the air, its back turned to him. His hands twitched, itching to reach for the bow in his satchel, but instead, he hefted the hammer once more, glancing around the spike-edged arena, and opting to stay near the centre as he stayed in constant motion, scanning constantly the sky for the best forewarning of the impending attack of the boss.

A black dot appeared high overhead, swooping in at an almost horizontal angle. Its talons were outstretched as it swept past him; he had jumped aside just in time. A few seconds later, the Helmaroc King again swooped past, but Link was now ready for such a move, taking a swipe at the mask as the bird flew past. He missed, of course, but the Helmaroc King abandoned that type of attack, taking to the skies again.

He soon lost sight of it, until it swooped down again behind him. He whirled around as the beak dove for him, and jumped to the side, carefully weighing the hammer lest it bash him as he moved.

The beak lodged itself into the ground, and Link jumped, swinging the hammer as he did, and the mask riddled with cracks and shattered, exposing the ordinary yellow beak and black heads he recognised from kargarocs. Was the Helmaroc King nothing more than a giant helmed kargaroc?

The bird continued to struggle to pull itself out of the ground, and Link threw the hammer aside to whack at it with the Blade of Evil's Bane, which, after all, was designed to fight such opponents. Now that the vulnerable area was exposed, it could do its work.

He sliced at the underside of the now exposed neck, cutting it deeply, but not deeply enough. The bird shuddered and heaved, wrenching its head out of the stone, and took to the sky once more, leaving its shattered mask behind it as the neck wound began to close.

Link frowned, but watched the bird for as long as he could before it disappeared once more. Link hoped that the mask was not organic; it would be a hassle to have to keep breaking that mask before he could harm the bird.

At last, the boss swooped back down, this time buffeting him with wind, driving him back towards the spike-ringed walls. He pressed back against the wind, and the bird abandoned the attack so suddenly that Link found himself running straight towards the bird's beak as it thrust it down in his direction. He stopped himself in time, or almost in time, as the beak dragged a deep cut down his leg.

Damn, that hurt. He knew he didn't have time to reach for a healing potion, however. This might be his last opportunity to defeat the Helmaroc King. If he didn't take advantage of the fact that the beak was lodged into the ground, he would have to wait for it to happen again, and he wasn't going to dodge very well with his injured leg.

He drew the Master Sword from his side, hobbling forwards, using it as an impromptu crutch, although he didn't think he was injured quite that badly.

He slashed at the neck, again and again, desperation giving him greater strength.

Eventually—at long last, the bird shuddered, shrieking, and dragged its head out of the ground, taking to the air once more, before abruptly, wings still folded in a downwards flap, it plummeted towards the sea.

He had defeated the Helmaroc King! Suddenly, he felt full of energy, as if he could do anything! He had the Master Sword, after all! How could he lose!?

Giddy and drunk on his victory, he barely considered that he was effectively rushing into the toughest battle of his life with a serious wound. The way behind him was lost, in any case—there was no turning back, unless the moblins had put out the fire in time to save the walkway, and he couldn't depend upon that fact. Nor could he return until the walkway was rebuilt, and who knew when that might be?

Sure, there was a chance that the moblins had been able to save the walkway, but he silently admitted to himself that the odds of that were not at all high. After all, there was a pond, but it was far below, and moblins did not strike him as good climbers. Nor were there any containers of water nearby. In all likelihood, the entire area had gone up in flames, meaning that there was no means of backtracking, nor of coming back to this place at a later point—at least for however long it took for them to rebuild the way. And that path was far below him, barred by the floor of the arena from access. The tower beneath him had flooded. He did not fancy himself good enough at rock-climbing to scale the wall of the fortress. It was now or never.

The spikes barricading off an area of the wall retracted, revealing a path beyond, a stone walkway leading up at a very low grade.

He followed the path, until he came to great wooden doors set into a wooden wall. Here was another balcony, behind him, but there were no guards at the wooden wall. This did nothing to reassure him. A lack of defences was almost never a good sign.

Nor were unlocked doors—not when they had a means of locking, as these did.

He stared at the doors, which were decorated with swirling designs in green, red, and blue. A yellow triple triforce was emblazoned, right-side up, across the crack in the doors.

Despite his sudden creeping sensation of dread, despite the shivers that ran up and down his spine, making it ache, Link reached up with his right hand, and pushed the right-hand door open, left hand constantly on the sword sheathed at his side. He entered, as quietly as he could.

Within was an impossibly lavish room, walls filled with curtains and banners and paintings, wooden floors covered in a carpet of ornate rugs, wooden furniture engraved with intricate designs. Link couldn't take it all in.

A man stood, back turned to the entrance, looking out the window. A long black robe obscured his body, leaving only his hands exposed. His wiry red hair was cut short, but between it and his robe, the greenish skin of his neck was hidden from view. He spoke to himself, quietly, so that Link had to strain to hear, even as he struggled to plan now what.

"After so much time waiting: the beginning of my revenge!" the man cried, and Link was again stricken with a sense of familiarity. He knew this voice as if it had haunted his nightmares all his life. It was deep, and gruff, and cruel, but there was a heaviness to it that hadn't been there before.

"Now that I am free, I shall conquer the Great Sea, and reclaim Hyrule. Don't even think that you can stop me, boy!"

And, he whirled around, drawing Link's notice to the twin swords sheathed at either side, one of which the man promptly drew. There was nothing else for it. It was an incredibly stupid move, but Link had to do something.

What he did was charge the man, dodging the downward strike of the drawn sword, only to realise that it was a feint when the man picked him up by the collar of his shirt, hoisting him into the air. He struggled to breathe as the protective sacred fabric cut off his air.

"Fool! Did you seriously hope to challenge me? What gives you such confidence?" Link felt the man's eyes land upon the Master Sword that he struggled not to drop. It took too much of his attention, but he would not drop the sacred sword. Then, the man laughed, a chilling, deep laugh that made the hairs stand up on the back of Link's neck, hat or no.

"Hahaha! You think that you can defeat me with this worthless slab of metal? Fool! You cannot hope to face me without a blade that sparkles with the power to repel evil. Did it look like this blade sparkled to you? No, it has no power, not against me! Its power is gone, its edges are dull! Go down to the underworld and tell that to the worthless fools who made this blade!"

Ganon swung his remaining sword, the one that he still held in his other hand, up, and Link shut his eyes, not wanting to see the sword's approach. But then, he felt the muscles slacken, and the sword lowered.

"Ah, but I must thank you. Did you not notice anything odd about the world beneath the waves when you were there? I sent an army of monsters there to guard the Master Sword; you must have met them. Yet, as long as the Master Sword was sheathed, they were frozen in time.

"You see, the Master Sword is a key. It has been a most wretched little key, keeping the seal on me and my powers intact! But, when you drew the sword, time resumed, and I was free once more. So, you see, I really must thank you. You have made it possible for me to conquer the world."

"I owe it all to you, kid!" said the man with evil eyes, as the world around him faded into blackness.

Link couldn't breathe. He was dying, sword strike or not. Worse, he was dying knowing that thanks to him, Ganon would rule the world. Maybe he and the King of Red Lions had been on the same side all along, and Link's mistake had been to listen.

"And now," the man said, at the edges of his awareness. "You die—ugh!"

Ganon was forced to drop Link as a heavy weight collided with his back, pushing him forwards, as it then used his back as a springboard, landing near Link, who was sprawled on the floor in an ungainly heap.

"Link! Come on! We have to get out of here!" cried Tetra.

He struggled to focus on her voice, to force his eyes to see her face as they tried to suck him into darkness.

"Get up!" she cried. He had never heard her sound desperate thus before. "Come on! Please, please! We have to get out of here, before—ungh!"

Ganon had recovered, and took the opportunity to grab Tetra around the neck, much as he had hoisted Link into the air before. She struggled and squirmed with all her might, but he had left her no vulnerable flesh into which she might sink teeth or nails, just the sturdy armour-like fabric of his robe.

At the sight, Link redoubled his efforts to stay focused, and managed to put weight on his hands, the left of which still clutched the Master Sword.

"L-leave her alone!" he cried, struggling to his hands and knees. But, Ganon wasn't paying attention to him. He was staring at his own hand, which had begun to glow, as the familiar sign of triple triangles appeared on it, the triangle at the apex showing especially vivid against his greenish skin. He threw back his head and laughed. "Ah! At last, I have found you, Princess Zelda! True victory within my grasp!"

Huh? Zelda? Who was that?

Didn't he know that name? He groaned, pushing himself up to his feet, but still swaying, unstable, he sank to one knee as his bad leg gave out. Of all the times—!

"'Zelda'?" Tetra repeated, sounding quite as lost as he was himself. "I don't know any… Zelda."

Ganon wasn't listening. Link dragged himself back to his feet, limping forwards in determination. It might kill him, but Ganon's trap wouldn't get both him and Tetra.

A flash of brown entered the room, and Tetra disappeared. A moment later, a flash of red followed it, and Link felt himself hoisted into the air by someone he couldn't see. He sheathed the Master Sword, and replaced the shield on his back, as his rescuer fled with him out the window.

He turned back in time to see Valoo engulf the shipwreck at the top of the Forsaken Fortress in flames, Ganon still inside.

"Hey, Link! I said we'd meet again!" said a voice of steely determination. He definitely knew that voice.

"K-Komali?" he stuttered, struggling still even to breathe. The air speeding by did nothing to help this.

"Your boat apparently warned us that you were in trouble, if Medli's translation of Valoo's words was accurate. Lucky for you, we rito are the fastest things on the Great Sea! Relax, friend. I've got you! And, Quill has your other friend. Try to stay awake. We've got a rendezvous, yet, with your boat!"

And, Link tried to stay awake, truly he did, but he could only fight unconsciousness so long, especially with the danger now passed. He trusted Komali, after all. And rightly so, for Komali didn't drop him, even after he passed out.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: And Who Is She?

The ritos might have been the fastest things on the Great Sea, but the King of Red Lions was not, and therefore, the rendezvous point was nearer the Forsaken Fortress than any of them liked. Tetra clung to consciousness by threads, while Link sank deeper into unconsciousness. The ritos landed near the lower of the two islands, the "child" island of Mother and Child Isles.

The King of Red Lions observed Tetra with a thoughtful expression as Quill set her gently into the boat, flapping his wings to stay airborne as he watched Link Sylvanus with evident concern. Komali set Link down with equal caution, and joined Quill in hovering in the air. By the time Link slowly opened his eyes, Valoo, who had followed the two ritos, and the King of Red Lions, were deep in conversation.

"Link! You're awake! Glory to Din! I'm going to go home now—if you need me again, you know where to find me!" Komali cried.

"I'm glad to see that my mistake has not harmed you much in the long run. But, you ought to return to Windfall, to see to that wound and to recover your supplies. If you return to Dragon Roost Island, the offer of assistance still stands. Good luck, Sylvanus," said Quill, before following his prince.

"The news is not good," said the King of Red Lions, unusually direct. Link looked over at Tetra, who was now struggling to stay awake. Hers had not been a short night, either. "I fear that, although Valoo destroyed his base, Valoo thinks that even his might was insufficient to destroy Ganon. The man told you that the Master Sword did not sparkle with the power to repel evil. There are two individuals charged with ensuring that the power to repel evil remains in the blade, and now I am concerned for their well-being. We shall check on their residences. But, first—"

He turned to face Tetra, who stared at the boat, blinking. She looked as if her face had frozen in position, other than her blinking eyes. The events of the past night were too much for her, Link suspected. "We must take you to safety, and I must reveal certain facts that I would have preferred to remain secret. Sylvanus! We must return to the place where you found the Master Sword! Hasten and change the direction of the wind."

Link, despite desperately wanting answers—and knowing that he needed care for his leg—only scowled as he reached into his messenger bag and withdrew the Wind Waker. Tetra gave him a tight smile that was intended to make him feel better.

"Your boat talks," she said flatly.

"Yes, I mentioned that," he said. "Just where are we?" he asked the boat.

"Mother and Child Isles, square B-2 on your sea chart," said the King of Red Lions, for once not going on at length.

Link nodded, remembering that the Tower of the Gods lay far to the southeast. He played the "Wind's Requiem", and pointed in that direction. They set sail, even as Tetra protested.

"But, Link!" she cried. "Your leg!"

Oh, right. Link reached into his messenger bag once more, and pulled out the blue potion. A gift from the Forbidden Woods. Or Kokiri Forest. Or whatever. He barely remembered putting it into the messenger bag, but here it still was. The glass should have broken, he was sure.

He uncorked the lid, and took a drink, drinking half the potion before the wound on his leg sealed itself.

He was overloaded with magic, again. This was not very good for keeping his head clear of visions. He was fairly sure that Tetra hit him, and yelled several things about his idiocy, and questions about the blue potion, but they slipped past his awareness in the manner of fog.

"Link," said Tetra, cutting through the burgeoning haze. She whispered as if she feared being overheard. "Just how does the King of Red Lions know that?—he quoted the man in the robe directly, there."

Right. They had both said something about the sword, how it didn't "sparkle with the power to repel evil". How did the King of Red Lions know?

He glanced at the prow that served for the boat's head, and turned to Tetra with a deliberately apathetic shrug. "He just seems to know things, like where I am, and what's happened to me whilst I've been away. I don't know."

Tetra stared at him, wide-eyed. "And, doesn't it bother you?"

He glanced down and away, but did not respond. There was nothing to say. He himself had confronted the boat about his secret-keeping. There was no denying that he was suspicious, but, for now, he had no better option than to trust the King of Red Lions. But, he could hardly admit all of this with the boat right there.

Tetra sighed, as if realising that he had said as much as he could. "Where are we going, then?"

The islands were far behind them by this point; the boat was making good speed. It wouldn't take more than two days to reach the Tower of the Gods, Link suspected, at this rate.

"To the place where I got the Master Sword," Link repeated with a shrug. "I suppose that the King of Red Lions is concerned that if we talk about it too much, one of Ganon's spies might overhear us, and—"

"Wait, wait, wait. You told me who the King of Red Lions was in that weird rainbow-platform room, but who is 'Ganon'?"

Link blinked, and turned to look at the boat, who was staring straight ahead as if he were an inanimate object. He must be focused on making the best time he could through the waves.

"Remember that man in the black robe?" He waited for Tetra to nod before he continued. "His name is Ganon. He's the evil from a legend of Outset Island, about a land beneath the waves, and a hero known as the Hero of Time."

Now, it felt strange, merely saying that title. He still hadn't decided what he believed: whether or not those visions were true, what were their connection to him? He could no longer think impartially about the tale of the Legendary Hero. First, there was the question: was he worthy of the clothes he still wore? Was he worthy of being called a hero?

And then, buried deeper in his mind, the true mystery: what was his connection to the Hero of Time?

"My mother told me similar stories," Tetra said, a distant look in her eyes. She watched the horizon, as a tall tower rose in their sight. It was too near for it to be the Tower of the Gods—too near, and too short.

She gripped the side of the boat hard, until her knuckles turned white, and just kept staring at the horizon as she spoke. "I know you've been in my cabin. That was very rude of you, you know. But, I suppose it was to be expected. At least you didn't go rummaging around in my personal belongings. Well, I know you saw the portrait of my mother, before she—

"Anyway, what I loved most growing up was hearing the stories of a land lost long ago, of princesses and heroes. Not much is known about the Hero of Time, and my mother told me that no one is sure if he's even a real person."

But for the King of Red Lions, Link would have told her that he descended from the Hero of Time. But, he kept the secret of the visions locked deep within.

"He's real," he said instead, in a voice barely even a whisper, and Tetra cocked her head, giving him a strange glance, askance, a small frown, narrowed eyes, forehead wrinkled together. He tried and failed to understand the reaction, shrugged it off as unimportant.

"It's customary on Outset for boys to wear the clothes of the Hero when they come of age. There's a ceremony and everything. On your seventeenth birthday, there's a celebration, with food and gifts, and you have to wear the clothes of the Hero for a day. Then, you go back to normal on the next, put the clothes away, take up your life as an adult. That's what was supposed to happen on my birthday.

"Instead," he smiled, but he couldn't put any strength into it; it was a very brittle smile. "Instead, you came to the island, and Aryll was kidnapped, and I have come closer than any of my fellows to fulfilling the dream handed down in Outset Island families of emulating the Hero. Ha!"

"Your birthday…" Tetra repeated, and drew her knees up, resting with one arm clutching the edge of the boat, and the other around her knees, as if she could barricade out the world—or maybe just block out Link—if she used her knees as a wall.

There was an awkward silence for several hours, before Link started asking about the girls taken from Forsaken Fortress, and what would become of them. Tetra was not shy about admitting that they would be ransomed back to their parents. Link found himself remembering the girl in ragged clothes, with auburn hair. He asked what would happen if they couldn't pay.

"I'm sure my pirates will figure out something sensible," said Tetra, with a shrug that revealed nothing of her opinions. He recalled her complaints at the Tower of the Gods—that they couldn't do anything without her, and doubted the sincerity of her words. She might just be telling herself this, that she needn't worry about them. But, she seemed more at ease now, at least.

A conical island with a tall tower stretching into the sky rushed past them. Reeves began to appear on the horizon. Link noticed that Tetra was being much less condescending than she had been before. And, she had been calling him "Link", rather than "Sylvanus", hadn't she? He narrowed his eyes, as if he would be able to see into her mind. But, it availed him no more than attempts to understand the King of Red Lions.

"I'm very sorry about intruding into your private quarters. It was rude," he said, still thinking about everything that Tetra had said. "I suppose that you were just so mysterious when we first met that I wanted to know more about you." He blushed as he realised how that sounded, but refused to try to take it back. Tetra turned to him, one eyebrow quirked, and an almost malicious grin on her face.

"I want to understand everything," he said, unwittingly clenching and unclenching a fist, as some part of him seemed to wander secret paths of his own mind. There was a hazy image on the fringe of his mind's eye. He tried to stare at it, but it refused to come clear. His mind was only half on what he was saying, now.

"I wanted to know how to repay you, I think, and why you helped me to begin with, and what your goals were. I didn't think about how intrusive I was being until I saw that portrait of your mother. But, you know, I barely knew mine at all, either. It made you seem more understandable, seeing that portrait. I thought that you were more like me than I had thought. I decided to trust you, then. I don't think I realised it myself, at the time. I'll trust you before I trust my boat, because I know you better.

"But, if we're going to the hiding place of the sword—well, I wouldn't want to spoil it for you. Something tells me you'd appreciate it even more than I did. You know more about the Hero of Time than I do, after all. We only have the one story, in its many forms, you know, and no version ever says much.

"There was a land beneath the waves, and the Hero of Time arose to save it from an evil who stole the relic that kept the land prosperous. That's Ganon. The Hero of Time appeared 'as if from nowhere', traveling through time to defeat Ganon. Then, at some point in the future, Ganon returned, but the Hero wasn't there to stop him. Ganon was taking over, so the people appealed to the gods. And, no one knows what happened after. Only… I think the King of Red Lions does."

He was tracing a spiral with his finger. He stared at it doing that, as if of its own volition, and wondered why the symbol seemed so important. It had some sort of significance, he knew.

He looked up at Tetra. "What do you know of the legend?"

Tetra twisted her torso to look out the side of the boat, at the fast approaching reef. Close by it, a huge waterspout was on the move, and she watched it. Her brow furrowed, and she bit her lip, glancing at the storm clouds over the waterspout. A cyclone.

"You mean, about the Hero? I don't remember very much. We don't know much more than you," she said. "I know that he acquired a relic that gave him great Courage, and that he was said to be master of many weapons. But, he went to some far-off land, and the power of the relic was taken from him."

This was the first Link had heard of such a thing—why did it sound familiar?

Time. The moon high overhead, but drawing ever nearer, and a sense of thorough displacement—that nothing was as it should be, as if he'd entered some sort of inverted world, and he himself had likewise been turned inside out. Parallel lives followed paths just similar enough to maximise the feeling of disorientation.

"Link?" asked Tetra, again. He hadn't heard her the first time. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Visions again.

"What?" he asked, and then spun around. Night surely hadn't fallen already. Why was it so dark?

"I think—that cyclone—"

They were pulled in, just as with the whirlpool trap behind Outset Island.

How…?

Link peered up, high above him, where he could see a small cloud floating in the eye of the cyclone, near the very top.

If you find a way to attack from afar, smack him around a bit for me, will you? Zephos had said, back on Dragon Roost Island. He had warned him to steer clear of any cyclones he encountered on the sea, but here they were, now.

At least he had a ranged weapon.

"It's Zephos's brother, Cyclos," he said, and then realised that that would mean nothing to Tetra. "He's a god. But, I was told by Zephos to attack from a distance, and to avoid any cyclones I saw on the sea—but that doesn't matter right now."

Even as he spoke, he drew back a notched arrow, sighting directly at the wind god.

He let fly, and watched the progress of the arrow, as the winds of the cyclone flung it about, before sending it back at them. He gritted his teeth, stood his ground, and blocked the arrow with the shield.

"Waa! What are you doing, Link?" Tetra demanded. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"

"No, I only thought… Cyclos is creating this cyclone. If I can hit him, maybe he'll be distracted and it'll disperse. I don't know what will happen if we're drawn up high into these winds. We might be shipwrecked. I have to do something!"

He drew back the bow again as he spoke, this time trying to compensate for the disruption of the wind. He put extra force behind the shot, drawing the string back at the greatest degree of tension it could manage, and then let fly again.

"Let me try that!" said Tetra, watching the second arrow as it vanished through the cloud.

"You can shoot a bow?" asked Link. Tetra just stared levelly at him in return, and he handed over the bow.

Tetra pursed her lips, settled the bow horizontally, and held out a hand for an arrow. Link handed one over, perplexed. As he had before her, she sighted along the length, shot, missed, and the arrow fell into the water. Link reached into his messenger bag for another arrow, handing it over before Tetra could ask.

She shot again, and this time, it struck true. She turned to him with a smug smirk. "There are gaps in his wind barrier. Aim through those, and use the rotation of the cyclone to your favour."

"You're a very good shot," he said. "Where did you learn—?"

"I didn't," Tetra said, with a contemplative frown. "I just sort of… knew that I'd be able to, if that makes any sense."

Rather as Link hadn't known that he would be able to. He wondered how to broach the subject of whether or not Tetra had had any visions.

He took the bow back, reaching into his messenger bag for a handful of arrows, which he settled into the quiver. He remembered how the winds had shot the arrow back at them, and followed the winds as best he could with his eyes. Hadn't he noticed that he had a strange sense for what direction the wind was blowing? But, within this cyclone, that sense was distorted.

He sighed, once more taking careful aim. They were closer to the wind god now, if not by much. There were fewer winds between them. He aimed through the wall of wind, slightly off from his intended target, and once more shot an arrow. The god gave a shout of pain, and Link's expression hardened into resolve. He withdrew another arrow, and again fired. Now that he knew the trick to it, he found that most of his arrows hit. But, he was beginning to run low.

At last, however, the god seemed to grow tired of being hit, and the cyclone dispersed, sending them plummeting down to the still rolling waves.

"Well, well, well!" said a raspy, rattling voice. The purple frog on his cloud was now clearly visible. There was a froggy smirk on his face as he rode the cloud down to their eye level. "So, you're the Waker of Winds! You think you're so tough, do you? Let's see how you deal with—this!"

For a moment, Link braced himself for an attack, but then he watched as the cloud moved, clearly directed by Cyclos. First, it moved down, then to the right, then to the left, and then up, as the currents of air grew taut. Link's eyes widened, and he pulled out the Wind Waker. He pointed to the left with his right hand, and down, right, left, up, with his left. The wind sang along with a strangely familiar melody, one which he could almost name. The knowledge was at the edges of his mind, but he was sure that it was there. Something green, he thought. He shook his head to clear it, as the storm god settled back down to a comfortable speaking level.

"Ah! The 'Ballad of Gales', a much nicer song than the 'Wind's Requiem', don't you think?

"Ha! Well done, then, I suppose. Few people can even see me, hidden within my beautiful cyclones! You've got quite the aim there, and quite the eye! Yes, I think you might be the first person I met worthy of using my wind. And, you too, little miss," he said, turning to Tetra, whose arms were crossed. Her expression leveled out into its usual indifferent mask.

"Just remember that melody, and one of my babies can carry you across the sea in a heartbeat—they're faster than anything else on the Great Sea! Understand that they'll only drop you off in a select few places—and you'll have to land on the water. They need water to thrive, you know! Just be glad I'm letting you borrow them! I know you'll treat them right. And—" there was a pause, and Link's messenger bag seemed to pulse with violet light, "—I'll be so good as to mark those locations on your sea chart, hehheh!"

Tetra raised an eyebrow.

"Well, seeing as you proven yourself, too, you can warp too—but only with those who have also proven themselves. I'll keep an eye on you if you set off over the sea on your own, and an ear out. You don't need that baton. Just something that will produce the proper notes."

"Well, I feel so much better about the world, knowing that it's in your hands. You two make a pretty good team, y'know that? I'm looking forward to seeing how you two do on your adventure. Well, I'll go now."

Link pulled out his sea chart, as the frog zipped away. Far out at sea, another cyclone formed, but Link didn't see it, so engrossed was he at analysing his sea chart. He didn't even notice Tetra peering over his shoulder at the chart he held, which was only half filled in, after all.

There were warp points on several familiar islands, including Greatfish Isle, Dragon Roost, and the Forest Haven. More important to him, however, were his suddenly immediate access to Outset, Windfall, and the Tower of the Gods. Had Cyclos and Zephos been watching him? But, it was called the Tower of the Gods. Perhaps, that was why they knew.

"Link, just what was—Hey! Your sea chart is wrong! There's an island marked here, when I know it's just open sea for miles around." He followed her finger which was, of course, pointing to the Tower of the Gods.

"There wasn't an island there; now there is," he said, as the boat resumed its course. "In fact, that's where we're headed. And, since I'm sure that the King of Red Lions will accept absolutely no delays—"

He gave Tetra his most confident smirk, and she, for some reason, blushed and looked away. What?

He conducted the "Ballad of Gales", and took a moment afterwards to wonder what he ought to do now, before he saw that his sea chart was glowing. He stared at the glowing circles marked on primarily filled in areas of his chart, before tapping the circle settled within the square that he knew held the Tower of the Gods.

"Take us to the Tower of the Gods, please," he said, and a cyclone arose out of nowhere, lifting them up, and up, as Tetra screeched, and Link clung to the sides of the boat. Their vision filled with a wall of white wind, and then the cyclone began to unwind, before the great arches of the Tower's arcade.

"Well, it works," he said, grinning. Tetra glared at him.

"I prefer my ship," she said, haughtily. Link shrugged in response. To each his own, he thought, but he much appreciated the ability to instantaneously traverse the broad sea. Now, he didn't have to worry about his dwindling supplies. He could just warp to Windfall once the King of Red Lions was finished here.

The King of Red Lions, who was being strangely still and silent.

"Hey!" said a voice from Link's pocket. Link, with a quizzical glance at Tetra, who spread her hands and shrugged, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a glowing communication stone.

"Hey!" Tetra cut in, before the voice could continue. "Hey, you! Who do you think you are, using my stone without my permission? Answer me!"

The voice only laughed in reply.

"You want to know, do you? Well, it is time for us to finally meet… face to face! I'll be waiting for you, in the chamber of the Master Sword!"

Link looked at Tetra, and their eyes met. There was something about her eyes—guarded and wounded and violated—that had him reeling, and there was a strange need to protect, to fix whatever had gone wrong, that she not look that way anymore. Or, ever again. He remembered entering her cabin without permission, suspecting that she had looked much the same then as she did now. His hands clenched into fists without him realising it.

"You heard the voice," said Tetra, her voice shaking—with what, Link couldn't tell. "Take me to the chamber. Take me to that voice. I want to know who dares such a thing."

"Tetra—" he began, unsure of what he even wanted to say.

"Please, Link," she said, quietly, and that was so wrong; a quiet, pleading voice did not suit strong, tough Tetra. He bit his lip, lest he admit such to her.

He stared at the centre of the arcade, where the light had appeared before, and it was there again. The boat was already gliding towards the circle of light.

On a different occasion, if she were her usual self, he would have quite enjoyed Tetra's reaction to their sinking beneath the waves.

She thrashed and flailed and screamed in the least dignified manner possible. She saw him smirk, and glared at him.

He shrugged at her, in response, his breathing even, and head clear. At length, she noticed this, and calmed herself, looking around them much as he had once he had realised that he was not about to drown. He felt personally gratified at her look of wonder, as if he had done something particularly impressive, himself.

He watched as the pyramidal tower passed them by, and, swifter than it had seemed last time, they fell through the air to land in the fountain.

"You jerk!" said Tetra, when she realised that she was no longer breathing water. "You might have warned me!"

"Do you think anyone warned me?" he asked, folding his arms, with another grin in her direction. At least she no longer had that violated, hurt expression. For a few seconds, he had thought that she might cry.

He stood up from the boat, and jumped over into the water, holding out a hand to help her out, if she wanted it. But, this was Tetra. Chivalry was beneath her, apparently. She looked away, blushing furiously. She stood up, and followed him out of the boat.

"I suppose not," she conceded. "Well, what are you waiting for? Take me to that voice!"

He nodded, serious again, and led the way up the steps into the castle.

All within was as he had left it; he didn't know what he had expected, but he had thought that there might be some visible indication of change owing to Ganondorf's actions upon his liberation. The hall was silent and still, and devoid of monsters. The energy field barriers had not returned. The entire hall was in full colour. Despite the sense of urgency and haste in the strange voice, Link waited for Tetra to wander the hall, looking around her, constantly whirling around until he wondered how she did not grow dizzy and fall.

She stared all around at the sunken castle, and Link followed her at a slower pace, watching her more than analysing the walls himself.

"Look, Link!" she cried, pointing to high above, where, on the wall, a full-colour portrait observed the hall. "They look just like the crew, don't they? There's Gonzo, and Niko, and Mako, and Senza!"

"That is curious," Link said, pulling out the telescope Aryll had lent him to examine the picture better. He did not know all of Tetra's pirates by name, but he could see an uncanny resemblance between members of the crew and various figures in the portrait, for all that they wore very different clothes. But, that girl….

"Who do you suppose she is, though?" Tetra said, arms once more crossed, before she freed one of her hands to wave it at the picture. "What is she doing with my crew?"

This was not, of course, Tetra's crew. This portrait must have been commissioned long ago, the individuals in it long dead. Still, the resemblance was uncanny.

Tetra was looking at him as if he knew the answer to her question. Link shrugged, although he wanted to ask how it was that he was suddenly considered the expert on all matters. But, he had been here before, after all, even if he had had no help from the mysterious voice, nor the King of Red Lions. Say….

"Link!" Tetra cried, and she clamped her right hand around his left upper arm, so tightly that he doubted whether he could wield the sword to attend to whatever threat had caused her such alarm. "That statue!"

Or, there was that.

She let go, but looked back and forth between the two of them, over and over, until Link began to scuff his feet, staring at the floor with his head bowed. He had never handled scrutiny well. He had wanted to keep her attention focused on their purpose for coming here, in order to avoid just such a spectacle as she was making now.

Realising that she was not about to stop, he climbed the stairs, running behind the statue to pull it away from the railing, revealing the hidden entrance. Tetra followed him, still looking back and forth with disorienting swift turns of her head, back and forth, back and forth.

"Link, that statue looks just like—" she whispered, coming closer than she ever had before. She too seemed to sense the quiet sanctity of this place, then. Good.

"I know," he said. "Supposedly, my family descends from the Hero of Time."

Tetra was gaping at him. He considered how he ought to react. It was tempting to tease her, but at the same time, he felt for her. She had had a great many surprises in a very short period of time. He laid a hand on her shoulder in a show of camaraderie, and then didn't know what he ought to do next. She was staring at him with a strange, unreadable look in her eyes, and he felt himself being drawn in….

He turned away first, returning to his task of pulling the statue from the entryway. When he looked back to Tetra, he saw that she was looking down and away again.

Tetra climbed around the statue the moment there was enough of a gap to let her pass through to the stairs. Link followed her, raising an eyebrow at the statue Hero, as if enquiring about her actions.

He sensed that the Hero of Time no more understood Tetra than he did. He shrugged in sympathy at the statue, and hastened to follow Tetra down the stairs, trying as he did not to remember what had happened the last time. He did not want to have visions in the middle of what promised to be a very important discussion.

If he had expected to see a man standing, waiting, somewhere in the chamber, then he was disappointed; to all outward appearances, the room was empty, save for its statues and stained glass windows. Tetra, turning around incessantly to try to look at everything at once, spun to the circle of sword-bearing statues. She stopped to peer around at the stained glass windows, from a distance, before she noticed the trapezoidal pedestal at her feet.

"Is this—?" she began. And then, there was a strange whooshing noise, and a man in a red robe appeared and vanished before their eyes, appearing at the top of the stairs, on the landing, at the path leading to the bridge, each time for a short time, so short that neither of them got a proper glimpse at him until he appeared, blocking the way back to the stairs.

He wore long red robes lined in white fur, and had a matching long, full, white beard, and his face was lined and weathered. An ornate golden crown rested upon his head, inset with rubies. His eyes were a bright green, dulled somewhat, as if clouded by bitter memories. But, he was only mostly opaque—the wall could faintly be seen behind him, making him appear to be an odd patchwork of man and stained glass.

Tetra took a step back.

"Fear not, children. I am a friend, and I mean you no harm. Do you not recognise my voice, Link Sylvanus?" asked the man, and Link's eyes widened. That voice sounded familiar. It sounded, indeed, just like—

"Yes, indeed, it is I," said the man in the ornate robes. "I was your boat, the King of Red Lions. When Ganon took over, long ago, he slew me, but the goddesses rescued my spirit. Before the goddesses three flooded this world, they imprisoned my soul within a boat. A gossip stone was lodged into its mouth, and it is through that stone that I have been able to monitor your progress. I did not ever intend to show you my true form, such as it is, but Ganon forced my hand."

"'Gossip stone'? 'True form'? I don't understand," Tetra began, but the man held up a hand, silencing her. For once, she subsided without a word, glancing over at Link, whose attention was fixated upon the man who was apparently his boat.

For now, he would listen, and reserve judgement until the end. He sent Tetra a bewildered smile that he intended to be reassuring, and she, without seeming to realise it, edged closer to him, reaching out, and gripping his upper arm again. Link thought that it was a fortunate thing that no more monsters had lain in wait here.

"Tetra, as promised, I shall reveal the truth to you. This castle in which we now stand is all that remains uncovered of the land spoken of in the legend. This land beneath the waves was once known as Hyrule. And, I was and shall always be its king, Daphnes Nohansen Hyrule."

This story was growing progressively more far-fetched. Link stared down at the ground, staring fixedly at the floor without seeing it, analysing and absorbing the tale he was being told. His boat was really a king?

"It is my solemn duty to guard and to guide the boy who will rise to become the hero to face off against Ganon in this day and age, and to protect the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, for which Ganon seeks, needing it to obtain the True Force to conquer the world. I believe that a necklace has been passed down from mother to daughter for many generations in your family—correct me if I'm wrong."

Tetra drew back, almost stepping onto Link's foot, and Link reached up and took hold of the hand clamped around his shoulder, pulling it off and positioning himself that he might protect her, if need be. He narrowed his eyes at the King of Red Lions—or King Daphnes Nohansen Hyrule, rather! These revealed secrets would have been kept from him, he knew, if the king had had a choice. It did not encourage trust. And, there was something else, half a memory of another reason to suspect this man.

Less than half a memory—a sentiment, a warning.

Tetra gripped his hand instead of his shoulder, and her grip was just as crushing as it had been before. He realised that she felt lost and alone, uprooted from the life she had known before, where she knew everything, and needed no one. Here, she had to rely on Link, the only person she knew and with whom she had established any measure of trust.

"Link!" she hissed, as the King of Red Lions held out his hand.

"That necklace is the key to revealing your true destiny. Please, let me see it," he said, his voice level and cool, and so very remote. Tetra glanced at Link, as if asking what she should do, and Link knew that there would be no answers until The King had what he wanted. Well, the King had guided him well enough thus far. He gave a tight nod, gaze still fixed on the King, knowing that he wasn't giving her permission, only advice.

She pulled a black leather cord from under her shirt, and Link saw that at the end was a small chevron-shaped gold pendant, but Tetra lifted the cord over her head, and held it out for the King, her gaze never leaving Link's.

The King of Red Lions took hold of the pendant in one hand, and with a puff of white smoke, a small triangle appeared in his other hand. They began to move towards each other as if of their own volition, as if they had wills, and Link saw that the triangle was just the right size and shape to fit into the arch of the pendant. They connected, forming one of the familiar gold triangles—a piece of the Triforce!

Blinding light flooded the room, and Link was forced to shield his eyes with his arm, as rays of light snaked from the pendant, growing brighter and brighter until the entire room was filled with white light.

When he opened his eyes, Tetra had gone. Where she had stood now stood a girl in a pink dress, with long, elbow-length white gloves, and a circlet of gold decorated with red jewels, and a blue bannerlike design that covered her skirt like an apron. He recognised the sign of the triforce, and then the bird stretching its wings, reaching for the triple triangles.

As he stared at the stranger before him, something in his mind shifted, as if his mind were being rearranged. He knew that this was still Tetra—or rather, that this was who Tetra really was. This was Zelda, Princess of Hyrule. He needed no introductions, no confirmations, no explanations.

He felt rather as if he had just aged by a century or more—the weight of the world now hung once more over his shoulders like a mantle. He stared at Zelda, unable to speak, but the King was speaking once more, regardless. Link listened, still looking only at Zelda Atempor Tetra—that was her true name.

But, was she Zelda Atempor Mia, as he was Link Sylvanus Tetrus, but also Link Sylvanus Hace? Two lives struggled to merge—too soon, too soon!—and the indecision felt as if there were suddenly no ground under his feet, and he was falling, falling, but he refused to show weakness before the King of Hyrule. (Throw me in a dungeon, will you? he thought, even as he recognised that he wasn't bitter about that at all; everyone made mistakes; he himself had made some spectacular ones.)

"This is your true identity," said the King of Hyrule, and if Link had to hazard a guess, he would say that that note to his voice was pride. "You are Zelda Atempor Tetra, Princess of Hyrule, heiress to the throne. Hyrule is your birthright."

She looked over at Link, and he clenched his fists so tightly that a piece of paper could not have slipped between his fingers. This was not how things were supposed to be. And why, why, why had the king removed the princess's disguise? Did he not trust her judgement and wisdom?

Link looked back and forth between them, and tried to remember how it felt to be the Waker of Winds, because now would be a terrible time to arouse the boat's suspicion. This king had a history of doing stupid things when he felt suspicious.

"Link," Zelda said, and her voice was softer than he had ever heard from her before (in this life, anyway, and that was what mattered, because was she even Zelda Atempor Mia, or was she someone else?). He lowered his head, but raised it again, because he had seen the glint of tears in her eyes, and her suffering was unacceptable, whoever she was.

"I'm so sorry. I—I understand everything, now. The Triforce is filling my mind with knowledge, and—and—and understanding. Now, I see that I've been a right jerk to you and… and that all of this is my fault. Ganon did kidnap all of those girls looking for me, and—"

"Link, it is time that you and I returned to the world above," the King said, but Link ignored him, because Zelda needed him, now, and his loyalty was to her, not to her failure father.

"Link, please wait—" Zelda said, but he didn't need to be told. He hadn't moved an inch, trying to give her reassurance, and whatever strength he had left, as his palms cracked and bled, because how dared the king to put such weight on her shoulders and then leave her there, alone?

"I will wait until you are ready," he said, voice ponderously slow, heavy with the gravity of the situation, and a hundred other things. He gave her a small, shy smile, which was not at all fitting for the Waker of the Winds, but familiar as the Blade of Evil's Bane, as a hundred other things he could name now, if asked, but knew that he wouldn't be able to, when he left again.

He hadn't realised it before, but there was a part of him that felt hollow and empty, as if an important part of his heart had been cut out. He knew that this was where his piece of the Triforce—the Triforce of Courage—belonged.

He suspected that Tetra, too, had gone through her life, never quite realising that this odd sensation was the deep-seated knowledge that she was incomplete, not quite whole. The reunion of the pieces of the Triforce had only made her more herself than she had been before.

He could not be himself, yet. Not without the Triforce of Courage.

"I wanted to say that I am sorry. For my behaviour towards you. For the kidnap of your sister. For everything. You've done so much, Link, and I've not given you the proper credit. Now, I see that I was wrong, and I want you to go with my blessing and apologies. Restore the Master Sword, and defeat Ganon."

"You are not to blame," he said, softly, reaching out to lay a hand upon her shoulder. Her head rose, and she stared at him. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him. Did she understand? Did she know who he really was? "You are not to blame," he said again, trying not to to remember how Ganon had laughed as he was sealed away, vowing to return and take his revenge on their descendants.

"It is all on Ganon's head, not ours," he said, leaning down to speak for her ears alone, forgetting the stone in his pocket, a mystery which the King had been able to keep in the excitement. "Be of good cheer. Do not trouble yourself with what has happened, but look to the future."

He had surely spoken similar words before. They had reassured another Zelda Atempor. Tetra smiled, just slightly, and his own smile widened in response.

"Go with my blessing, then," she said, finally looking him in the eyes. "And come back, safe, as soon as you are able."

He smiled and nodded to her again. The King had already gone, but Link didn't care. He went to the base of the stairs, turned back to look at Zelda again, hands raised to her chest in such a feminine pose that if he hadn't known better, he might have thought that she was someone else, someone completely different from Tetra.

He gave her a broader smile, one worthy of the Waker of Winds, and turned back to the staircase, running back up and into the lonely corridor above.

Thence, he returned to his boat, waiting outside the patch of light.

The boat lectured him as he climbed in—about avoiding this stretch of water, lest they call Ganon's attention to Zelda's hiding place. Link pondered if there were a way to convince the boat that she was safer with them than under the sea, where they couldn't even keep track of her, except through the pendants they both had.

Above the waves, the King of Red Lions turned to face him with what passed for a look of stern regard. The corners of the mouth were turned down, but mostly Link knew the intended expression from the boat's tone of voice when he spoke, which was grim and dire.

"All is not well, I suspect, in the world below—" Then why did you leave Zelda there? "—and I have my suspicions as to why this is. We must go and check the safety of the two Sages whose prayers are responsible for maintaining the power of the Master Sword, in its dormancy. I have marked their locations on your sea chart.

"While they live beneath the waves, there are secondary entrances to the temples in which they live, and these lie in islands above, upon the Great Sea. We must check on them, to see if they have been incapacitated… or worse. Something must be preventing their prayers from reaching the ears of the gods, and we must discover what."

"Fine," said Link in return, for he still remembered the importance of the Sages, at least for the moment. Dawn had come, now, and he realised that, but for his brief period of time spent unconscious, he had been awake for two days straight. "But first, I must stop at Windfall for supplies, and, might I remind you that, unlike you, I still need to sleep? I have been awake for two days, now."

The King hung his head, with what passed for an approximation of sheepishness in a wooden-faced boat. Link pulled out the Wind Waker baton, and conducted the "Ballad of Gales".

Chapter Text

Interlude: Reflections of a Princess

The girl named Tetra sat on the pedestal that had once housed the Master Sword, for want of a preferable place to sit, and thought back over her own life, trying to see the pieces of the puzzle that had led to this, but the Triforce of Wisdom was not meant for solving puzzles. If Link were here, she knew, he would help her.

The understanding she had gained from the relic was a crushing blow. She knew now that she had relied upon Link as a pillar of strength, and he had not hesitated to give her what strength he had, to carry her through. He was truly something else. Unique.

Too good for her, perhaps. She'd battered what kindness she could out of his frame, belittled and befuddled him, lashed out when there was some concern encroaching upon her mind. She had not done right by him at all, and in return, he now sacrificed the promise of a safe future, on remote Outset Island, to save her from the monster that now knew who she was.

It was an odd sensation that had accompanied the revelation that she was a princess. She had always been a leader of her pirates, but now the fragmented leavings of a drowned kingdom depended upon her for protection. She might otherwise have protested, or snuck back onto her pirate ship, where life was familiar and reliable.

She stared down at the floor, remembering the sudden heaviness in his gaze even as he reassured her. It was the weight that hid behind a dying man's eyes as he told his loved ones that all was well, giving them the comfort of a lie to ease their way for as long as he could, but there was no lie in Link's gaze.

Link was so sincere, so generous and openhearted. She wondered how she could have ever mocked him. She had started to change her opinion on him too late, when she saw the way he conquered the challenge of the Tower of the Gods, easily solving riddles that she couldn't begin to decipher, fighting foes before whom she would have quailed. She had discovered that they made a superb team.

She turned on her makeshift seat, tilting her head back to stare at the general location of the self-same tower, not far from where she sat now. She hadn't realised it, but she had begun to think of Link as an equal, there, where he was in a situation foreign to her, but familiar to him. It was, essentially, in his area of expertise, his comfort zone, despite the danger. She had seen a side of him that she had never thought existed before, and it had forced her to reconsider her assumptions about him. He was no child, needing minding.

He was something better than her equal, in truth. Words were insufficient to convey the regret that ate away at the heart she often pretended she lacked. She wished that he were down here, with her. He would be able to figure out what to do.

She suspected that time passed differently down here than it did in the world above—that she might spend a few hours here, while months passed above. She didn't tell Link, but she believed that not even the pendant she had given him would be able to break through to this submerged world. Perhaps, she was wrong. She hoped she was.

She missed him. It was an unusual experience for her, but she realised that that was the truth. He was the first person she had bothered to really care for since her mother….

She closed her eyes, bowed her head, stood from the pedestal, and stepped back, trying to imagine him drawing the sword, the legendary Blade of Evil's Bane, from this very pedestal.

Her thoughts inevitably drifted to the statue blocking the way back into the main great hall of the castle. There was no need of titles. Link was already a worthy hero in her eyes, worthy of his lineage. She would wait for him.

She slowly realised, as days passed, that here, down below, there was no need for food or rest, although she would surely notice their lack when she returned above, as she must someday. Until then, she spent her time coming to understand and to accept her new destiny. Or rather, an old destiny, always hers, that she hadn't remembered until now.

A princess? Me? had been her first response when the truth had been revealed to her. She could hardly have picked a girl whom she considered to be less of a princess. And yet, as the pieces of the Triforce had connected, something else had, too, an understanding, a feeling of rightness, as if she had been born for that moment to come.

Now, she knew that she had always been Zelda Atempor, known only by her numeral: Tetra. It had been a worthy disguise, one that had hidden her even from herself, but its utility had expired when Ganon had identified her through the mask.

Mostly. But, she still wished that she were up above. Even the smallest things that she had taken for granted were now beyond her reach: the sun on the water, flowers of spring (it was now surely almost summer), the pirate ship cutting through the waves, her cabin.

She didn't mind that he had entered her cabin, now. If they survived this ordeal, even if he refused to have any more to do with her, it would be something to connect them in her mind.

Just like the drawing on her wall.

She reached down towards the pedestal that had housed the Master Sword, and then noticed the stairs leading down into a miniature moat. She made the round of the room, marveling at the detail and soul that the maker of these windows had poured into it, decided that Link had already analysed them enough for both of them.

Still, she went and stood, bowing, hand over her heart, before each of the six Sages. The Triforce whispered their names in her heart: Rauru, Sage of Light, Saria, Sage of the Forest, Darunia, Sage of Fire, Ruto, Sage of Water, Impa, Sage of Shadow, Naburu, Sage of Spirit. But, there was a seventh Sage, too, one born to lead them, without whom their power was halved.

This was why she was needed here, down below. Because when it came time to reseal Ganon, she would need to be in proximity. Link didn't understand, but she had finally, finally figured it out.

It did nothing to curb her desire to be up above.

She grew restless, and worried, until she could stand it no longer, and had to know for sure.

"Link!" she cried, bringing to bear the force of her will onto the fragment of gossip stone that she had hung around her neck to replace the familiar weight of the Triforce piece. "Link! If you can hear me, answer me!"

Nothing. She was completely and utterly alone, and her heart suddenly felt as if someone had taken a hammer to it, and shattered it. And then….

Zelda? asked a faint voice, but it didn't come from her necklace. She didn't care. A faint smile spread across her face. Perhaps, she wasn't alone, after all.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: Winged Sage

The trip to Windfall could be considered uneventful, if you stretched the truth a little. He'd had a confrontation with the girl dressed in the hoop skirt, now dressed in rags (a misfortune for which she blamed Tetra and the pirates), from which he had come away with new appreciation for his own life, and a bottle made of glass. He'd met a man dancing in the island graveyard, and learnt a song that made time speed by for him (the song was far, far too familiar, and more than half-missing, but he inexplicably knew the rest).

He'd gone to Zunari's thriving store, and the man had sold him supplies at a suspicious discount. He'd finally traded his chu jelly for red potion and a green potion to recover his life energy and magic power. He'd helped Ilari the rito postman to deliver mail to the obstructive new inhabitant of Solvo's old home.

Windfall looked very different now. A conversation with Mrs. Marie, the schoolteacher, revealed that Zunari had had the idea to spread joy throughout the town by adding stands for decorations which he sold in his store. She'd proceeded to sniff out the Joy Pendants he had collected from bokoblins, and head traded twenty of said pendants for a deed to her private cabana.

He wasn't sure what was more alarming—that she had a private cabana, or that she was willing to part with the deed to it for twenty necklaces. Just what did she intend to do with those, anyway? She only had one neck, as far as he could see.

He had spent the night in Windfall, which was when he had stopped Mila, who had only robbed Zunari a couple of times, perhaps because this was only her third night of poverty. Although he had taken a nap after returning to the surface, he considered whether time mightn't flow differently in the world beneath the waves. Perhaps, Tetra would be alright, even without any supplies. He had to assume that the King knew what he was doing, because his life had taken a sudden turn into uncharted territory, and he didn't know even the most fundamental rules, now.

He had gotten some sleep, in Windfall, before the King of Red Lions insisted that they head for Headstone Island, conveniently located due east of Outset. He used the "Ballad of Gales" to return home instantaneously, realising that he now had far greater ability to choose their destinations than he had before. With the "Ballad of Gales", he could travel instantaneously to various spots across the sea, so the King of Red Lions couldn't even berate him for wasted time.

His first stop upon arriving home was, naturally, to his grandmother. To his relief, she hadn't relapsed.

Next, he needed to visit Orca, who had merely raised his eyebrows at the handful of Knight's Crests that Link had produced from out of his messenger bag, and taught him a new attack: the Hurricane Spin Attack, which ate away at his magic, but combined the strength of a spin attack with a parry attack. By staying constantly mobile, he was probably also more difficult to hit, although Link decided he'd reserve judgement on that until he had seen for himself. The attack left him so dizzy that he decided he'd rarely use it.

Sturgeon, too, had been eager to share knowledge with him, regaling him with tales of Outset in older days, and listening avidly to Link's tale of what had occurred thus far (he neglected to mention Zelda Tetra).

At last, Link, feeling energised by the reunions, returned to his boat, redirected the wind to blow to the east, and set sail for Headstone Island.

Once there, he found that he had made the trip for no reason, because a giant stone head blocked the entrance. Go figure.

One of the fishmen had emerged to speak with the King of Red Lions whilst Link had climbed up to the rocky head to see what he could do (it responded to neither bombs nor the hammer, and likewise could not be moved with his bare hands). When he finally conceded temporary defeat, the King of Red Lions informed him that Ganon had not been sighted since the shipwreck had burnt, which, apparently, was very bad news.

No, Link didn't understand why. He was back to being kept in the dark by the King of Red Lions, who instructed him to "use that song that the God of Storms taught you to transport yourself to the larger of the islands on square B-2 of your sea chart".

He was not informed as to why this was desirable, of course.

He obeyed nonetheless, and a cyclone appeared, lifting them up in a by-now-routine wall of white, and setting them down in an earthly paradise.

The "Mother" Island of Mother and Child Isles was a pond surrounded by a grassy ring, carpeted with lush grass and short, leaf-covered saplings. There was nothing outwardly impressive about it at first glance, other than its exquisite beauty.

Then, the Fairy Queen appeared. Or, rather, a giant humanoid figure, all pastel blue, with proportions suggesting that the figure was of a child not past her early teens, if that, appeared out of a beam of light, and introduced itself as the Fairy Queen.

But, something seemed a bit implausible about this. For one thing, the figure floated around with jerky movements, drifting from left and right, bobbing up and down. Secondly, the voice that spoke from its vicinity seemed oddly distant—as Tetra's voice through the communication stone, or Sturgeon's when they had practised telepathy, almost a month ago. It was oddly like watching a marionette move about on invisible strings. No hand is ever completely steady, and thus it bobbed and swayed up and down, and the voice sounded from far away, from wherever the true Fairy Queen was.

Even the monochrome of the Fairy Queen lent credence to the idea that this was a false body, a projection that the actual queen manipulated from afar. As he watched, it changed colours, going through a pastel rainbow, retaining its monochrome. The only non-monochromatic thing about her was a life-sized Great Fairy marionette that she held supported by strings between her hands. It was a very dark green colour, green as the fairy he had met back on Outset had been blue.

She spoke to him, but the mouth of the doll didn't move. Her voice was much higher-pitched than the Great Fairy's, and oddly childish, just as the appearance of the marionette was that of a child of Aryll's age. But, the words she spoke rang with old world gravity and refinement.

"At last we meet, young Waker of Winds. I am the Fairy Queen, who rules over all the fairies and Great Fairies upon the Great Sea. As it was foretold long ago, you have come. Fear not, child; I shall not harm you. Within this sacred island, evil dares not tread. You are safe.

"I know why you have come. You come seeking a power that will enable you to enter the Temples of the Wind and of the Earth. To enter the Earth Temple, you will require the ability to lift great weights. To obtain this ability, you must retrieve the treasure hidden deep within the volcano of Fire Mountain, which lies south of Dragon Roost Island.

"To enter the Wind Temple, you will need the iron boots, which will enable you to stand your ground and not be driven back by even the strongest of winds. To acquire these, you must head to Ice Ring Isle, which lies to the northwest of the Forest Haven.

"You cannot enter either the volcano of the Fire Mountain, nor the frozen tundra of the Ice Ring with the skills you currently possess. But, I shall help you. I can see that your heart and your intentions are pure.

"I like you, child!" she giggled. "And thus, I shall grant to you the skills that you will need to enter these two islands."

She clapped her hands together, squashing the Great Fairy doll between them, dispersing it into a white and sparkling mist, and as she spread her hands back apart, two fairies, one in a pale blue dress, and the other in a bright red one, but in appearance otherwise identical, appeared where the Great Fairy had been. They both had blonde hair done up in twin pigtails, and violet eyes. They flew towards him, and then seemed to brace themselves, before they each flew towards his face, colliding with it with a painful zap, dissolving into his body as they hit. He could only imagine how the fairies felt—if actual fairies they were.

"I must say, child… you are just my type!" the Fairy Queen said with another giggle, as she held a hand over her mouth. Link staggered backwards, trying to force a smile at the peculiar behaviour of the Fairy Queen. He wondered at the silence of his boat.

With that, a beam of light appeared, and began to grow around her, but he saw the figure bend over in a slump as the beam of light pulled it back into whatever otherworld it had come from. It was very much like seeing a marionette being set down, its puppeteer finished with using it for the moment.

"No one can enter this island without my permission, but you are welcome at any time, child!" the Fairy Queen's voice resounded still from parts unseen, although the doll had gone. A number of more ordinary fairies appeared in the springs that bubbled up nearby, filling the pond with a constant supply of water.

He looked at the fairies, and looked around for any place that might hide a figure the size of a Great Fairy. There were no hidden caves that he could see, and anyway, the Queen's doll had vanished into a light. Perhaps she lived on another plane of existence, and only connected to this one via such dolls. Regardless, the entire experience was somewhat unnerving.

"Well, what do you make of that?" he asked the King of Red Lions, but the boat was silent. He stepped out of it to walk around the front, but the boat, which usually yawned and moved its neck about to follow his movements, was completely and utterly still. When the Fairy Queen said that none entered without her permission, did that mean that she also had blocked the King?

He felt a sudden urge to stay here forever, cut off from the world, and nagging boats, and responsibilities, but he shoved it aside, stepping back into his boat, and guiding the wind along the melody of the "Ballad of Gales", tapping his finger at Dragon Roost Island, and saying, "I'd like to go to Dragon Roost Island, please". The cyclone swept up the boat, and deposited them near the shallow pond, near where he had first set foot upon the island.

He took a moment to relive his adventures, but now was not the time for reunions with old friends. He needed to head south, and find whatever would enable him to lift the stone head blocking Headstone Island.

"Link Sylvanus," said the boat in his most authoritative voice. "What happened, back there?"

Link frowned. He had been about to request a guiding wind of Zephos, but there wasn't a reason to keep quiet.

"You were there, weren't you? The Fairy Queen told me how to get into the Earth Temple."

The boat frowned. "No. For whatever reason, the Fairy Queen did not allow me to accompany you to the island. Only a soulless shell of a boat accompanied you to her sacred island. I have long wished to see this island, for it is said to be a place of great tranquility, where the heart finds itself at rest. I have had much cause for regret, over my extended life."

There was no need to explain everything that the Fairy Queen had said. The King almost certainly already knew everything she had informed him of, anyway. Let him think he still kept his secrets.

Link conducted the "Wind's Requiem", and pointed to the South.

It was dusk when they came to the Fire Mountain, which spewed an unending column of flame into the sky. Link pulled out the messenger bag, and his bow, and wondered how to go about using the magic arrows.

Just freeze it, he thought to the arrow, willing it to become as cold as ice, trying to recall how it had felt to use the Deku Leaf, which had drained away his magic. Then, he remembered the spin attack, and the Hurricane Spin attack. By focusing on his blade, and willing it full of magic, he had been able to charge it with pure magic energy. If he focused in a similar manner upon the arrows, he might be able to fill them with ice.

He frowned at the arrow in concentration, as the King of Red Lions shifted and fidgeted. Link took careful aim at the heart of the pillar of flame, and fired the ice arrow.

It sailed into the middle of the jet of flame, and ice extended up and down the column's length, before the whole shattered, ice and gout of flame both, leaving the entrance exposed. Link wondered how long that could possibly last, and jumped out the side of the boat without bothering to even turn to see if the boat would speak. He began climbing the rocky cliffs that formed a makeshift path up into the crater of the volcano.

For hours, he climbed, well into the night, until his arms once more began to throb and ache, and he wished that he dared to waste some red potion. Instead, he continued to climb, suspecting that something very bad would happen if he did not make it to the treasure in time. He did not dare to stop to rest.

When he reached the top, he leapt into the volcano without thinking, and a beam of something like light gently lowered him down into a room filled with lava, and fire keese. He pulled out the boomerang from his messenger bag, and took careful aim, as he jumped across to an island of sturdy rock in the sea of fire, and then another, and followed a rock path around a corner into a room deeper within the volcano. It was blocked by a door without handle, which did not respond when Link tried to pull or push at it, until Link, speaking to himself, asked in frustration, "Why won't you open?" Whereupon it did.

Within this room were two circular walls of flames surrounding… something… he couldn't see from the entrance. A narrow bridge led from the doorway to a broader island in the middle of the room, and another narrow bridge led to another circular wall of flames.

He suspected that there was something he hadn't yet seen about the two miniature islands to either side of the one in the middle of the room. He came to stand in the middle island, and magtails began to come out of the lava. Peering more closely through the flames surrounding the two islands, he saw that there were two switches sunken into them—the sort that were activated by weight.

There were also two magtails.

Link found that, with careful application of the grappling hook, the magtails turned a dull ashen grey, and curled up into balls. These were cool to the touch, and he was able to pick them up, and throw them onto the switches. When the second magtail activated the second switch, the wall of flames disappeared from around a treasure chest in the far island.

Link, mindful of the fact that magtails, being living creatures, could hardly be expected to stay curled up forever, moved quickly, hastening to lift the latch of the heavy iron grey treasure chest, and to open it to reveal… heavy-looking silver gloves. He picked them up, and settled them onto his wrists, not bothering to take the time to tighten the straps that held them onto his arms. He needed to leave the volcano before the pillar of fire shot forth into the sky once more.

He clenched his hands into fists lest he lose the gauntlets, and raced back to the door whence he had entered, curtly demanded that it open, and began to backtrack to the entrance. If there were other hidden chambers and secrets to this volcano, it could keep them. He would be glad just not to be roasted alive. He was surprised that it hadn't been hotter inside. Perhaps, it was because of the ice arrow?

He stepped into the beam of light that had lowered him into the volcano to begin with, and it raised him back up. A creeping sense of danger made Link throw caution to the winds, metaphorically speaking, as he pulled out the Deku Leaf, and leapt from the mouth of the volcano, sailing back down to the King of Red Lions, ignoring his arms' protests.

The first thing he did upon his return was to down what remained of the blue potion the Forbidden Woods had given him.

The King of Red Lions looked at him, but said nothing. Link was sure he was quite the sight, covered in ashes and soot, fists clenched tight on the Deku Leaf to keep the silver gauntlets from falling off.

He frowned, putting away the Deku Leaf, and finally reaching to the straps to tighten the silver gauntlets on his wrists.

Meanwhile, before him, the mountain once more spewed forth its pillar of flame. He probably had had time to climb back down the mountain. Perhaps.

No, probably not.

With the gauntlets secure on his hands, he pulled out the Wind Waker again, and warped them both to the Forest Haven, remembering the Deku Tree's words about Hollo researching how to make blue potion. He could see from a distance that the monster-plants had returned after even his brief time away from the Forest Haven. There were plenty of boko babas lining the path into the Forest Haven; no matter how many Hollo needed, he was certain that it couldn't be more than he would encounter on the way up.

He noticed the sound of a fiddle echoing out from a cave behind a waterfall. He hadn't noticed the cave before, but once his attention was called to the waterfall itself, he could see through the rushing water to the darkened cavern beyond. He paused, deciding that it couldn't hurt to check back with Makar before continuing on.

The little korok was pleased to see him, but distraught that his hiding place had been discovered. ("What? You can hear me outside?" he shrilled, and began hanging his head, shaking it as he had when he had explained how terrible it would have been had he not been able to play the song to usher in the new year.)

Link left the cave satisfied that Makar had recovered fully from their adventure, and resumed the perilous trek back into the Forest Haven.

Once there, he brought his empty bottle to Hollo, who explained that, with four boko baba seeds, he should be able to make blue potion for Link. He took the seeds with excitement plainly written upon his leafy face, and hopped up a series of stumps until he stood high above a giant cauldron. He threw in the four boko baba seeds, and chanted a few chittery nonsense words. They waited together for a few moments, as blue steam rose from the cauldron and then Hollo pronounced the potion ready.

"I have done it! I have found a way to make blue potion! I'll make it for you any time. Just bring me the boko baba seeds. How very exciting! Thank you so much, swordsman!"

Link wondered what he had done to deserve such gratitude. He left with Hollo's continued promises of further assistance ringing in his ears, making the trek back down the path to his boat, who shot him a reproachful look. Link shrugged, unapologetic. He knew that he needed to maintain his supplies of potions, and he would need to warp to this general area later, anyway, to retrieve the iron boots from Ice Ring Isle.

He pulled out his sea chart, and stared at it for a couple of seconds, before deciding to forego the journey for the moment. One thing at a time. First things first, he needed to discover what had happened to the Sage who lived beneath the stone statue.

He warped them both back to Outset, and conducted the "Wind's Requiem", setting sail eastwards. He slept on the way there, waking to the King of Red Lions's shouts. He tumbled out of the boat, a bit unsteady on his feet, and weary despite the blue potion he had drunk back at Fire Mountain.

He approached the stone head, once more, and found that, mysteriously, while wearing the silver gauntlets, he was able to lift the head, although it was still quite heavy. He tossed it away, towards the high wall in front of it, and watched it shatter into millions of tiny shards. Beneath it was a hole in the ground, around which nothing grew.

He shrugged, and jumped in.

Within was a chamber lit by torches, which was empty otherwise, save for a stele on the far wall. Engraved upon the stele were familiar marking, six of them in all. Down, down, straight ahead, right, left, straight ahead. Presumably, he could wait here for years, and nothing would happen (except for Ganon taking over the world), until he had conducted the melody.

He reached into his messenger bag, and pointed to the left with his right hand, following the markings with his left, staring at the label below the directions: "The Earth God's Lyrics". The wind hummed along to the tune, which was a swift, lively one.

As it drew to a close, a wall of light appeared before the monument, slowly condensing into a figure with a head with a long, pointed growth extending from it like a tailfin, twin fins coming from the elbows of the arms, and beady black eyes. Other than these tells, and its blue-white, glistening skin, it looked quite humanoid.

Judging by her long indigo skirt, and the way the bodice of the dress hung about her, this was a woman, but of a race that Link could not recall seeing before even in Sturgeon's books. She wore a golden headdress on her head, suggesting that she came from a family of some importance, whoever she was.

Then she spoke, in a voice whispery and faint as wind murmuring through cracks in a cave.

"You must be the new Hero, come at last," she said, and her voice was filled with quiet dignity. "I am Laruto, and for an age, I offered up my prayers in the Earth Temple that lies beyond yon barrier." She indicated the stele behind her with a graceful twist of the head, sending the never-still headfin swaying. "I knew the importance of my duty, for as long as I continued to pray here, the power to repel evil would remain within the Blade of Evil's Bane.

"But, when he broke through the seal of the Great Sages, Ganon's first act was to send monsters to break the power of the Sages. The monster he sent to the Earth Temple was a vile ghost of vengeful hatred. I did not stand a chance against such a terrible creature. It slew me, and took up its residence in the heart of the Earth Temple, where once I offered my prayers.

"I know why you have come. You are here to return the power to repel evil to the Master Sword. To do this, you must find the one who carries on my bloodline, my descendant, and awaken that one to their role as a Sage. You will know him or her by this instrument, with which I offered up my prayers. Upon my death, it will have made its way to the world above."

She held out a very familiar lyre, and Link stared at it. Like the ghost, he noticed that it was translucent, the brassy metal throwing back nonexistent light, despite being see-through. It was not worth contemplating how that was possible. Perhaps, it was merely Laruto's memory of how the instrument had once looked. Did it matter? He knew that harp.

He closed his eyes, pondering the whims of fate.

"Find them, and have them perform this melody, that is inscribed on the monument behind me."

She began to play the same lively tune that the wind had hummed a little while ago. "This tune will awaken the power of sages that runs in their blood. Bring them hither, defeat Jalhalla, King of Poes, and have them pray in the room of rites. Alas, without corporeal form, my prayers now have little effect. Ease my regrets, Hero, and defeat Ganon!"

She disappeared, slowly fading away, leaving the room empty behind her, without a hint that she had once been there.

Link himself stood there for a few moments longer, disbelieving what had just happened—he had never encountered a ghost before, and it was a rather surreal experience—and then he shook his head to clear it, and turned back around to head outside.

The King of Red Lions was waiting on the shore, speaking to one of the fishmen who had helped to fill in the sea chart. The fishman dove back beneath the waves, and the King of Red Lions turned to face Link as he approached, still a bit off from the eerie encounter.

"He killed her," he said, and even he was surprised at how his own voice sounded, a harsh noise against the soothing plash of the waves around him. "He killed her, just in case someone came someday to stop him with the Master Sword."

He climbed into the boat, putting his hand on the side for support; he did not trust himself not to fall into the water. He was still a bit dazed. The King of Red Lions hung his head, and Link sensed it was out of respect for the dead.

"Tell me what she said."

Link spent a couple of minutes blankly reciting what Laruto had told him, and watching his boat grow more and more agitated.

"Then, we must assume that the same has also happened at the other temple. First things first, we must find the Sage of the Earth Temple, Laruto's descendant. You have met many people on the Great Sea. Have you seen Laruto's instrument before?"

In response, Link bowed his head, standing up and brandishing the baton he still clutched in his hand. He conducted the "Ballad of Gales", made a subdued request for transport to Dragon Roost Island, and jumped out of the boat the moment the cyclone stopped spinning the boat around. Words eluded him.

"Sylvanus!" the boat cried, as Link began to trudge up the shore.

"I'll be right back with Laruto's descendant," he called back, without turning around. There would be time later to contemplate how it could be that the fishy woman could be the ancestress of a winged bird-woman. For now, he focused on climbing the ledges leading to the entrance to the heart of Dragon Roost Island. Even from down here, he could hear the chords of a lyre falling gracefully down to him.

He remembered Medli in Dragon Roost Cavern, how terrified she'd been, but helpful, too. He remembered Komali and Medli, his suspicions that there was something between them. Could a Sage ever return to the world above, or would they forever be trapped below? Had Komali found courage too late? He pitied the man, despite himself.

He gritted his teeth, and entered the chamber. He did not want to see Komali now, did not want to have to try to explain his actions, to justify taking Medli away from the place where she belonged.

Inside, his mind was beginning to churn with vengeful thoughts. He seethed at the injustice of what he was about to do, what Ganon had driven him to. How dared he to take Medli from her home, from her family, from a chance for love?

He stormed up the ramp leading to the second storey, and if there were any ritos passing by him, or giving him searching stares, he didn't notice them.

He emerged onto a higher ledge of the cliff, where Medli's music was louder and clearer. He could see her, now, on a high ledge that he would only be able to access through careful use of the grappling hook. He yanked it out of his messenger bag, and took careful breaths, and an even more careful aim.

He swung across the gap, leapt up the rocky wall to the higher ledge, and approached Medli. She didn't notice, too absorbed in practising the harp.

Without preamble, he pulled out the Wind Waker, and then hesitated. Would it reassure her, soften the blow, somewhat, if he explained what he was doing beforehand, or would it cause problems? Might she fly away? She had her wings already, didn't she?

He pointed to the right with his right hand, and followed the remembered instructions with his left, as the wind sang along. Medli swayed where she stood, and then fell over.

He caught her before she hit the ground, and waited for her to open her eyes again. It was the least he could do; he knew that he ought to do more, but what? Apologies could not begin to make up for what he had done, for what he was going to do.

"Link Sylvanus," she said, when her eyes again opened. They seemed clear, but her voice was hazy and faint. He was reminded, almost, of Laruto's soft whisper. "I had the strangest… vision. A woman named Laruto came and informed me of my destiny. I know who I am, now. I am the Sage of the Earth Temple, and it is my duty to return the power to repel evil to your blade, the Master Sword. Komali's grandmother foresaw this, I am sure."

A shadow soared by, high overhead, and Medli closed her eyes, as though pained, and Link wished that he had a choice not to inflict such grief upon her.

"Please, Link Sylvanus, take me to the Earth Temple, that I may fulfil my duties as a Sage. But, let's not tell Komali. I want him to remember me as just a simple attendant. Please, Link Sylvanus. Let's go, swiftly, and quietly."

Link nodded. If this was all that he could do to ease her burden, then he would do it, no matter his misgivings.

Medli plunged over the side of the cliff, down to the water below. Link made to follow her, but Komali landed just then.

Link stared at the prince. Finally, he understood that Komali really was the same age as he. Their heights were about even, now, and the prince looked unintentionally intimidating, with his vast wings spread out around him as he landed, gently, on his feet. He wore the same red robes as his father, now, but no other adornment showed that he was a prince. In his hand, he clutched a pink flower, fresh cut, with four circular petals around a yellow centre.

Link staggered back, startled by Komali's sudden appearance despite the warning shadow overhead.

"Link, have you seen Medli anywhere?" asked Komali, whom Link had previously assumed had seen Medli's abrupt departure. Link swallowed hard, and closed his eyes. He owed his life to this man, and he understood full well the weight of such a debt. Furthermore, it was clear that Komali considered them to be friends. Link wasn't sure that they were, but he knew that even an enemy deserved the truth in such a case as this.

Komali seemed to be in a very good mood, judging by his broad smile, and the relaxed way he held himself. He didn't seem to have a care in the world.

But, Link had told Medli that he would keep the truth from Komali. And, mightn't it be kinder to let Komali keep his hopes for a little while longer?

Of course not, but what choice did he have? Was he a man of his word or not?

"I—" he began, but Komali, oblivious, cut him off.

"I found a pretty flower that I thought she would like. Girls like flowers, don't they?"

"Hokit tells me that they like golden feathers," Link said flatly.

Komali looked down at the ground, and scuffed his feet, for a moment reminding Link of the awkward preteen he had seemed when Link had first met him.

Why hadn't Link noticed before how tall the prince had become? He took a step back, to increase the distance between them, in case Komali attacked. His hands itched to reach for the shield to defend himself, and no amount of his protestations that he was only trying to do the right thing could convince him that he didn't deserve to be attacked for this.

"Link, are you alright? What's wrong?" Komali asked, and his voice was laced with compassion. He'd make a strong ruler, Link thought to himself. What did he know of ruling, though, anyway? And, that compassion wasn't going to do the man any good in this situation, either. Only let Komali not become a bitter, jaded old man on account of Link's betrayal.

"This quest obligates me to do some things I would rather not, had I the choice," he said, putting all his regret into that one sentence, knowing that Komali wouldn't understand, and without that comprehension, the apology, such as it was, was worthless. "And, for that, I am sorry."

"Link?" asked Komali, who still didn't understand. He reached out out of concern for Link's well-being. Link must look a wreck.

"Forgive me, Komali," Link said. "I have places I need to be."

Didn't you just make yourself sound suspicious? asked his critical inner voice. Link quashed it, bowing to the prince as he leapt off the cliff. Medli would be waiting for him, he was certain without justification, at the boat.

He saw Komali turn to follow his retreat, peering over to watch him dive into the water. But he trusted Link enough not to follow. Link tried to pretend that his friend wasn't there, that he had met no one at all on the balcony, and had done nothing suspicious.

He swam around the side of the island, where regularly spaced ledges provided places for him to stop and to catch his breath as he made his way to the front, where his boat was waiting.

Medli was there when he arrived, somehow. Wordlessly, he turned away from her, trying not to vent his frustration on her, who was more victim than he.

Pulling out his sea chart, he compared the location of Headstone Island, to the east of Outset, with their current location. Because Medli wasn't there when he had acquired the Ballad of Gales, he doubted that Cyclos would transport her via cyclone, regardless of circumstance. They would have to sail back to Headstone Island the long way. Well, it would give him time to recover from everything that had happened.

He shrugged as if it didn't matter at all, and leant back against the mast as it hoisted itself up.

There was silence in the boat for the duration of the journey. This made a long and tense journey, but Link was mulling over recent events, asking himself what he might have done differently, and Medli seemed to be reflecting upon and adjusting to her new role.

Four days later, Link and Medli jumped out of the boat onto the soft shores of Headstone Island, and the boat spoke for the first time. Medli stood there and stared at it, blinking furiously, but made no other recognisable response to a talking boat.

"There will be many and difficult traps within the Earth Temple," the boat began, and while Link knew to brace himself for a long-winded explanation, Medli did not. He wondered if ritos were even capable of sitting down, with their taloned feet. Who knew how that might change their lifestyles? But, since she wasn't sitting, he thought it only courteous to also remain standing.

"You will need to work together to make it through the temple safely. Medli, I am given to know that ritos can carry even a grown man's weight. There may be times when you will have to carry Link. He will often give you instructions. Listen well to his orders, and heed them, remembering that he has much more experience in these matters than you."

Medli bowed, and nodded. The King of Red Lions turned to Link.

"Link Sylvanus, protect Medli, and guide her well. Look after her safety above your own. Once you have the compass, it should show you where in the dungeon your companion is. When you have this guide, you can venture into more dangerous situations alone, without worrying about her safety. Make sure to leave her in a safe place!"

Link emulated Medli in bowing and nodding to the King, and they both turned towards the uncovered hole that marked the entrance to the Earth Temple. Medli leapt in first, and Link followed.

Medli touched down easily onto the bare earth beneath the hole, spreading her wings as if concerned that the yellow light would be insufficient for softening the impact. They retracted as soon as she was steady on her feet, and she turned back to wait as the yellow light softly set Link down nearby. Together, they approached the stele on the far wall, Medli going first, to wait before the hidden entryway.

Link pulled out the baton, and guided both Medli and the wind through the melody inscribed upon the stele. As Medli played the more complete version that Laruto had upon her harp, cracks began to appear in the stele as it shone with white light. They spread rapidly, and then the monument exploded into rubble, leaving no trace of its former existence behind. Hidden behind it was a hollowed out tunnel, boring straight through the mountain, and broadening into a chamber a short distance beyond. The chamber was empty, at least as they could see from here.

Link once more followed Medli as she led the way to the room beyond, lit with a single torch. (And who had lit it? Who was there to light it?) The torch barely illuminated the hole in the ground that stood next to it at all.

Link took barely a moment to consider before leaping into the hole, and trusting Medli to follow more cautiously.

Another yellow light set him down by torches at regular intervals—the entrance to the Earth Temple. There was a raised ledge, upon which the light shone, and then a gap over a grassy area, and then another ledge on the far side. He wondered if it could be rude or selfish to ask that Medli fly him across (after all, he had the Deku Leaf, still), and then realised that they would have to practice at some point, and there did not seem to be any monsters in this entryway, at least.

"Medli, could you fly me across?" he asked, and Medli seemed to brace herself, before reaching her long talons around his torso, and flapping her arms heavily. They crossed with surprising speed, considering how difficult the task must be. She set him down on the far side, and landed herself. She seemed a bit winded. Link wondered if flying the way ritos did required magic power, or whether it was just like walking. Would the ritos even know the difference?

There was a door on this far side, one without handle or any visible means of gripping it. It was a dark green, and decorated with the triforce in the centre. He pushed on it experimentally, but was unsurprised when it didn't move.

"Are you alright, Medli?" he asked, turning back to look at her. She smiled and nodded, but Link had the impression of her that she was the type not to complain even when mortally wounded. He would have to watch her.

"Seriously, Medli, if you're tired, we can wait here for a while."

The smile she returned was wan, but it seemed to be more out of distraction than actual fatigue, judging by her distant expression, the way she looked past him, at something he couldn't see.

"I'm fine, Link Sylvanus," she said, with a low bow. He wondered just what had happened, when she had fainted.

He stared at the door before him. "Open," he said, and the door obligingly rose. Medli stared at it for a few moments before running after Link, who had already entered the next room.

This room was enormous—with tall earthen walls, but limestone floors with columns supporting what had doubtless once been a means across from the platform at the top of a flight of curving stairs to the door, immediately visible, on the far side of the hall. As it stood, the columns made it more difficult to see what might lie in wait, but there were at least three moblins patrolling the room, as Link could see even from the entrance. He turned to Medli.

"Wait here," he instructed her. "Unless the moblins seem as if they might be coming your way; in that case, find someplace to hide—the top of one of those pillars, maybe." He indicated the column. "I'll come back for you when it's safe."

Medli nodded, clutching her harp close to her chest as she watched Link move further into the room. Link decided to trust that she would follow his instructions, and to focus on ridding the room of moblins.

By now, even with the weakened Master Sword, this was an easy task, and he emerged from each of his four battles (against one moblin each time) unscathed. While he had been fighting moblins, he had seen that iron bars covered the far door, preventing it from being opened. He spoke to it anyway, just in case, but when even defeating the moblins didn't cause the bars to rise, he frowned. Clearly, he was missing something about the room. He shrugged, heading back to Medli to explain the situation.

She suggested that they head to higher ground, to see if their greater height, and the different angle it provided, might help them figure things out. This struck him as an excellent idea, and they climbed the stairway to look around the room from the broken landing.

That was when they saw the switches. There were two of them, each accessible for one with wings, but not for the mere gliding abilities of the Deku Leaf. Link suspected that, as there were two of them, they would need to be activated at the same time. Didn't the King of Red Lions say that they needed to work together?

"Time to put into practice what we attempted before," he said, looking at the switches. "Could you carry me across to the nearer of those two switches, and still fly over to the further one alone?" he asked her. He questioned whether she knew her own limits. Just what did the average postman go through on a day-to-day basis? Was it different from what was expected from Medli as the attendant of Valoo?

Medli nodded, her face set in determination, and flapped her wings, grabbing hold of Link as she flew with steady wingbeats to the first platform, and then stopped, setting him down, and landing nearby.

"A moment to catch my breath, please," she said, sounding rather winded, and Link winced. "I am unaccustomed to flying very much. There is not much call for it; I am not a postman, and spend most of my time on Dragon Roost Island. It is the first time I have been so far from home."

"Take your time," Link said, sympathetic, and she nodded, bending over to gulp down breaths of air, face downcast and glistening with sweat.

Eventually, she straightened up, and, without needing to be told, flew to the second platform. When she landed, she nodded at Link, and they stepped on their switches.

The bars leading out of the room rose. But, now was the critical moment. Link tentatively stepped off the switch, and sighed in relief when the bars did not come back down.

"Come on, Medli, we shouldn't stray too far from one another until I find the compass, so even though I don't know what's in the next room, I'll have to ask you to follow me inside. I'll do as the King said, and do my best to protect you."

He leapt from the pillar, and rolled to absorb the impact of the fall.

Medli touched down with less grace than before, nearby. Or, perhaps he was getting used to such landings, and her words had made him realise how inexperienced with flying she was.

"Open," he told the door, which slid aside, revealing a rather darker and smaller room.

At first glance, it was empty, save for a dais with a shimmering distortion upon it, walls hung with banners and insigniae, and a hole in the roof that let in… sunlight? What was the origin of that light? Maybe, it didn't matter.

As he moved further into the room, chuchus began to appear—red and green ones, mainly, but there were also a new colour: dark purple, almost black, as the sky at night.

Hmm…. These chuchus seemed to be made of patches of night, and there was a beam of sunlight in the room inexplicably. Perhaps….

He had nothing with which to reflect the light of the sun, of course, except….

He remembered how the light had gleamed off Laruto's illusory instrument, how bright the lyre seemed to shine in the sun.

He finished off the other chuchus, and then turned to Medli.

"Medli, could you do me a favour? Could you stand in that patch of sunlight, and position your harp to reflect the sun onto these things?"

He'd tried cutting through them, of course, but it didn't work. They just split along the path of the sword, and pulled themselves back together once the sword had continued on its path. They had to have some weakness, however, and he had read, somewhere, that some creatures were vulnerable to the light of the sun.

Or, maybe he hadn't read that. It was difficult to tell, sometimes, whence his knowledge came.

Medli obligingly edged forwards, taking cautious steps, staying well away from the chuchus, and pulled her lyre off its place on her back, focusing the glare of the sun onto the chuchus.

Hit by the beam of light, they turned to stone. Link picked up the chuchus, and tossed the heavy statue at the wall, where it shattered into pieces, leaving behind green chu jelly. Link shrugged, resolving not to think too hard about that.

Meanwhile, Medli, who still stood there focusing the beam of light, had shone it onto the distortion on the dais while manoeuvring the beam to hit another purple chuchu.

As it crossed over the distortion, the beam of light shone bright white, and a huge treasure chest began to appear. The chest was painted forest green, and lined with gold—it was one of the big treasure chests, containing the map or the compass, or the dungeon item (too soon for that, surely!), or the boss key (far too early for that!). Without being asked, she redirected the light to shine back onto the rapidly forming treasure chest, until it appeared as solid as any other wooden chest Link had seen.

"Never mind that for now," he said, after a moment. "Please, help me with these chuchus!"

Medli bit her lip, resolutely redirecting the beam. The treasure chest did not disappear.

Medli petrified the other three chuchus in swift succession, but stayed in the light until she was certain that all of the chuchus were gone.

Link hunted them down one by one, picking them up and hurling them at the floor to break them. Then, with a nod to show his appreciation, he approached the still present treasure chest, flicking the clasp up, and lifting the lid, to see what lay within. The dungeon map, of course.

"It's just the dungeon map," he said to Medli. "And, I think that all of the monsters have gone from this room, at least for now. We'd better continue."

Medli nodded, looking rather out of sorts. Link examined her, but could see no sign of injury or strain. Perhaps, it was being in danger. He hadn't been there for most of her journey through Dragon Roost Cavern, and didn't rightly know how she behaved when in real danger. The enclosure where he had fought the moblins didn't count.

He went through the doorway first.

There was no sign of monsters in this room, again, but, looming before him, screaming for his attention, was a giant face, with a line down the middle, which probably indicated that it was not just for decoration, and had moving parts.

"Link! If you can hear me, answer me!" cried a voice from his pocket, and, with widening eyes, he pulled out the communication stone Tetra had lent him. Zelda, rather.

Unlike previous times that Zelda had contacted him, he had company, and wasn't sure that he wanted Medli privy to everything that he said—not that he didn't trust her; he had to, as she was a Sage—but something about the experience of the two linked communication stones felt as if it were meant just for him and Zelda—also, he wanted to try to shut out the King of Red Lions, if he could. There were far too many reasons to do that for him to even think that he had to justify it. He remembered Sturgeon's lessons, wondering if they applied even if you couldn't see to whom you were speaking.

"Zelda?" he asked silently, looking at the room around him.

"Link, you're alright!" she said. He noticed how much more emotional—how much livelier—her voice now was. She seemed to be bursting with joy at this fact, and he blushed, despite himself, at the level of concern she seemed to be exhibiting.

Medli, meanwhile, had followed him into the room.

"This is the Earth Temple," he explained, looking below the giant face to the whirling blue mist that lay beneath it.

"Careful, Link!" Zelda cried, resuming her advisory role. "I've heard of that mist, rare though it is. It drains out your magic power and makes it hard to move your arms or hands. You have to clear it away somehow…. Is that a beam of sunlight?" she asked, with very Tetraish incredulity. Link glanced at the floor nearby to see that, in fact, to either side of the door were two patches of sunlight, like the one in the previous room.

"Yes?" he asked in response.

"Underground?" Zelda continued.

"Link, what do we do now?" asked Medli, and Link felt Zelda flinch back at the new voice.

He sighed, frowned, glared at the mist. There were two other doors visible in this room, but a quick glance at the map told him that there was a fourth door, located behind the giant face. The two other doors were on the ledge upon which he stood, one in the wall to his left, and the other in the same place in the wall to his right. Between, there were stairs leading down into a pit so filled with mist that he couldn't even tell how deep it was, and that hidden fourth door.

"I don't know, Medli," he said. "We need to find some way to see into this pit."

Medli cocked her head, and pulled her harp of her back, shining the light from the sun down into it. The mist withdrew from the beam of light, and they were able to see that the pit was quite shallow—only a bit deeper than Link was tall. She continued to move the beam throughout the pit, until it hit upon a pile of brambles growing in a mound. Link recognised those brambles, but had to admit that he hadn't been expecting to see them far from the Forsaken Fortress.

"Huh. Good thinking, Medli," he said.

"I just thought… haven't you ever noticed how mist seems to block out the sun? So, what if you focused the light of the sun onto the mist? I mean, they seem pretty incompatible."

"Link, will you explain what's going on?" asked Zelda, with a sigh. "I've been down here for only a couple of days, and I left you as long as I could, but it's very lonely down here. You'll be pleased to know that I don't need to eat or sleep, but thanks for checking to make sure of that fact before leaving me below without food or water."

Oops. "I guess I just trusted that the King knew what he was doing," Link replied, staring at the switch. Medli had taken his praise as a sign that he had noticed something that she hadn't about the area she was illuminating, and left the beam of light there. Link sighed, decided that he could jump far enough to land in the area devoid of mist, and took several steps back to get a running start.

He landed in the middle of Medli's patch of light, and reached into his messenger bag for the hammer, which made short work of the brambles, and flipped the step-on switch while he was at it.

"The bars are off from both of the doors!" Medli cried. "Which way do we go?"

Link pulled out his map, and saw that there was one room to the left, with no way to head up or down, and that there were a series of rooms to the right. Maybe the compass was in the room to the left.

Link began to fill Zelda in on who Medli was, what exactly his quest had obliged him to do, and where they were. It had seemed a simple, short tale until he had attempted to put it into words. As it was, he was forced to interrupt himself several time.

There was the brief interruption when, beckoning Medli to follow him, he told the left-hand door to open, and the much longer pause while he fought a handful of eerie, wood-brown skeletal humanoids that had been lurking in what he belatedly realised were coffins lining the walls of a lower level of the room.

Medli was white and shaking from the eerie shriek they made, and he didn't feel much better than she. They looked to be shriveled, decaying corpses, and would make eerie, groaning noises, then suddenly turn and seem to fix eyeless gazes upon him, emitting a high-pitched, unearthly shriek as they lumbered towards him. He thought that he should have stayed with Medli on the higher ledge, and shot fire arrows at them.

On the plus side, once he had, after what seemed forever, hacked them into pieces, and the bodies dissolved (and it was bad enough that they didn't disappear in those plumes of smoke!—it had made Link wonder if they were really dead, in spite of circumstances), a big green treasure chest appeared. This one contained the compass.

Zelda was very quiet, but he couldn't blame her. He rather wanted to curl up into a ball and sit, unmoving, for several hours to several days. If he and Medli were in the land beneath the waves, albeit a different part from that with which he was familiar—did that mean that they didn't have to eat or sleep either?

Link shrugged, as he fitted the compass into the hole in the dungeon map.

"I have the compass now," he said, but it was far too early to speak, after what had just happened, and the conversation died before it could begin. He could feel Zelda shaking through the psychic connection.

It didn't occur to Link to tell Medli to stay behind, in the room that he knew was safe, when he entered the door to the right, in the room with the giant face. They were lumbering forwards just like the humanoid creatures, taking slow, uncertain steps forward, putting one foot in front of the other.

He opened the door, to find himself in a room with more coffins (please let there be no more of those things in here, he mentally begged), and several dark stains of a black inky substance on the floor. Zelda came out of her stupor as he approached the first one, shrieking,

"Link, be careful!" and this, aloud, and even Medli seemed jarred from her daze, taking several steps away from the coffins, retreating to the door. "Those are wallmasters! If you come too close, they'll grab you and bring you to a different part of the dungeon! You'll lose all your progress!"

Link edged with greater caution towards the monster, feeling more alert, heart racing as he focused upon the task at hand. He drew the sword as he approached, hacking at the hand that emerged from the black pool, as soon as it rose up. At length, he cut it off from the arm protruding from the hole, and the monster condensed into a black ball of smoke. There were, however, still three more in the room.

Eventually, however, the room was emptied of wallmasters, and he could set about pulling a block in the middle of the room to use to climb the ledge leading to the door in the far side of the room.

Once he had safely made it to the other side, he shouted as loud as he dared for Medli to follow him, because it was better than leaving her in the room with the coffins. He had quite deliberately given the things as wide of a berth as he could, and Medli, despite her inexperience, took to the skies, and flew over them.

"Open," he told the door, and they entered the next room, which contained several of the dark purple chuchus, and a patch of light. There was also a step-on switch. He frowned, concentrating. As he approached the light, he noticed a high ledge that he couldn't hope to climb up, which, according to his map, led to the next room. Since there was no other obvious plan of action, he walked over to the switch, and stepped on it.

When he did this, the middle of the ledge began to collapse, falling down in short slabs that formed a staircase, leading up. But, the moment he stepped off the switch, to approach the revealed staircase, the stairs began to rise up once more, forming the ledge again.

Meanwhile, the purple chuchus approached.

Link took a moment to consider what to do. If he destroyed all of the chuchus, and then left Medli to stand on the switch, he would be able to climb the stairs and enter the next room. Medli could fly up after him, if need be. But why, then, the patch of light? Was it just to destroy the chuchus?

"Medli, can you fly up that ledge and check the door that should be set into the wall?"

He made his way into the patch of light, and some of the stupider chuchus followed him, turning to heavy stone statues. Hmmm….

"There's a door, but it's covered in bars," said Medli who stood at the top of the ledge, where the stairs ought to be.

Link considered again. Either the bars would retract when every chuchu was defeated, or when the switch was flipped. Since he couldn't undefeat chuchus, he decided to test the second option first.

"Let me know if the bars rise," he said, running back to step on the switch, as the last chuchu redirected its wobbly motions to follow him.

"Aha!" cried Medli. "The bars lifted when you stepped on that switch."

Link sighed.

"There's two of us, and I can't both stay on the switch and go up the stairs to enter the room beyond. For all I know, I'll need Medli's help there, so I can't leave her to stand on the switch—according to the map, there are many rooms beyond this point. What do I do?"

"The chuchus turn to stone, right?" Zelda interrupted.

Of course! Link picked up one of the stone chuchus, and carried it over to the switch. The stairs descended once again, and the bars lifted. He ran up the stairs towards the no-longer barred door, beckoning for Medli to follow him as he did.

He wasn't sure that the chuchus would stay stone forever, after all.

The next room had yet another patch of sun that Link knew that he wouldn't be able to access if not for the ladder leaning up against it. Translucent figures with pale blue bodies and white masks carried lanterns as they floated through the room, their feet hanging at least six inches above the floor. They wandered aimlessly about. What were these?

"Those are poes!" Zelda breathed. "If you get too close to them, they can possess you, so watch out! I've heard that this variety is vulnerable to sunlight. There are many different kinds of poes, of course, not that that matters right now."

"Indeed, it doesn't," Link snapped. Vulnerable to light, were they?

"Medli," he asked of the poor girl. "Can you fly up that ledge and shine some lights on these ghosts?"

Medli gamely made to obey, and Link was stuck fretting and wondering what, exactly, would happen to the ghosts when they were exposed to sunlight.

As it turned out what happened was that they became both solid and opaque, dropping their lanterns as they clutched their backsides as if they had been lit on fire. Link found that the Master Sword made quick work of the monsters, once they were corporeal.

He gave an appreciative nod to Medli, and then continued to the other door in the room, deciding that this was as good a place to temporarily leave Medli as any. If he needed her help, he could backtrack.

This room had three coffins, and Link's heart accelerated its pace at the thought of what might lie in wait, below. He hoped it wasn't more of those eerie humanoid monsters with the paralysing shrieks.

There was nothing else for it, however, but to jump down the ledge (there was a ladder, but it was hanging from up in the ceiling, and inaccessible). The coffin on the left rattled, and the lid fell down, and a skeleton wielding a spiky mace emerged. Link almost sighed in relief, but that would have been premature. There were still two more coffins, after all.

Link hacked away at the skeleton, but didn't seem to be doing much damage, until he cut off the head, which began to jump around on its own, as the rest of the skeleton lay as a pile of bones scattered across the floor. Meanwhile, he had come too close to the right-hand coffin, the lid of which shivered and then fell, as another skeleton soldier climbed out.

"Link, see how it behaved when the head was cut off? You have to crush the head!" Zelda cried, which was something that Link had already figured out, not that he minded Zelda's help.

He hacked away at the head of the first stalfos, until a swirling vortex of wind reattached its limbs, the one bone to the other, and it began to swing its mace around in circles, in an odd imitation of the Hurricane Spin attack—unless that attack was based on these monsters, of course.

Link hacked indiscriminately at both skeletons (they had no sinew nor flesh, and thus, if they had some manner of weak spot that caused them to collapse into themselves, it was a matter of luck that he hit it; he thought it was just having the Master Sword in direct contact with the bones and tainted magic that had animated them), and then set to crushing the skull of the first one, slowly chipping through it with the Master Sword.

The moment he broke through, it collapsed into a ball of smoke, and the second one seemed to redouble its efforts. It was easier fighting this one, since he didn't have to worry about a second stalfos anymore.

As if on cue, the middle coffin rattled, and the lid fell off. But, there was nothing within, save for a bottle containing some manner of potion.

Link ignored it for the moment, and concentrated upon crushing the stalfos's head. Had he had the freedom to, he would have taken out the hammer. Maybe. These slow brutes illustrated why such a weapon was not flawless. He suspected that he had the advantage, wielding the much lighter Master Sword.

Finally, he broke open the skull, and it dispersed into a ball of black smoke. He ran over to the potion, seeing that it seemed to be blue potion. Could he trust it?

He didn't know. But, from here, he could see that a big green treasure chest had appeared on the ledge whence he had come, as the ladder had mysteriously appeared leaning up next to it, providing a way up.

He climbed the ladder, and opened the treasure chest to find a new shield. This one was silvery, and red around the edges, and highly polished. He found himself thinking of the room with the giant face—how there were two patches of sun spaced to be in line of sight of the mask's two eyes, each decorated with crescent moons for pupils, against a dark blue backdrop. Perhaps….

He took the Hero of Time's old shield of his back, pulling out the messenger satchel to carefully stow the family shield inside, before placing the Mirror Shield in its place on his back.

"That's the shiniest shield I've ever seen," said Zelda. "What do you suppose it's made of?"

"I don't know—silver like these gauntlets?" he suggested. Now that he looked at them, there was similarity in the design and decorations, not to mention the colours, of the two defensive items. He stared at his hands, and pulled the mirror shield off his back to examine it more closely. "How strange," he said.

"Perhaps, they were made by the same person," Zelda suggested, and Link gave a noncommittal response, as he returned to the room with the poes.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Reflections of the Soul

Medli glanced at him with a briefly furrowed brow, but she was the sort to keep her own counsel, and she said nothing of his sudden acquisition. Without needing to be asked, she left her spot from the high ledge, fluttering to land gently on her feet at the bottom.

He glanced at the ladder leading up to that height, and tried to decide whether there were any way that he could have opened the door, had he come here alone. But, of course, it made sense that if any were to traverse these halls alone, it would be the Sage of the Earth Temple, who was defined by the fact that she bore that reflective brass harp.

What was more suspicious were the curious brambles in the room with the face on the back wall. He had only seen those at the Forsaken Fortress, before, and only the hammer could break them. He took a moment to consider what intelligence, good or evil, created these dungeons, and the Temples in particular, and then beckoned Medli to follow, as he backtracked. Thankfully, all the monsters remained slain, the rooms they had haunted (in far too many cases literally), now devoid of any save these two passing back through.

At last, they stood once more in the room with the face on the back wall. Link observed the two rays of sunlight shining through the ceiling (and tried not to distract himself by wondering how), and confirmed that, indeed, they did line up with the eyes of the face on the back wall.

"Medli, can you shine the light from the beam of sunlight on the left into the left eye of the face on the wall?" he said, breaking their extended silence. This was when he learnt that she was unaware of the face in the wall—she had dismissed it as mere decoration, whereas Link, noticing the almost ray-like spikes surrounding it, and the crescent moons where the eyes should be, and the fact that somehow, there was a door on the map, right about there, had analysed the thing, taking in every detail that he could.

It was a huge face, with only the crack where two silvery plates (silvery!) connected in the centre for a nose, and no mouth at all—the door would have been where the mouth was, Link supposed. Below the area where the mouth should be, the roiling mist flooding the pit made it impossible to see what was there.

He pulled the mirror shield off his back, after pointing the face out to Medli and making sure that she otherwise understood. He could almost feel Zelda's concentration, fixated upon the strange statue. Standing in the sunlight, he angled the shield to reflect the mysterious sunlight from its surface into the eye. Slowly, the design of the crescent moon against the night sky brightened into a blazing yellow sun. As it did, the area around it also began to glow yellow, although eye and mask remained distinct.

Medli, meanwhile, focused the beam of light from her harp onto the other eye. Now that he had seen them behave separately, he realised that one person alone would not be able to open the door. As he had let the shield begin to drop, sliding off the eye, the eye in question began to dim once more, and the light to fade. He had hastened to return the light to the eye, and meanwhile, Medli's harp had found the eye of the left side of the statue. Now, the left side glowed yellow, as the right side began to light once more.

Only when both sides were yellow with light, and the eyes blazed white at the same time, did the two panels of the face retract, sliding in opposite directions away from the centre, revealing a passage underneath, right where the map said it was.

Now, he wondered: did dungeons know who entered them, and what challenges the intruders could and couldn't face, and arrange themselves (or were constrained) accordingly, or was that an ability peculiar to the Tower of the Gods? Medli could not have opened this door on her own.

Monsters were one thing; they were as much intruders in the Temple as he and Medli (although they had Ganon to teleport them to whatever room he felt them needed in, presumably). But, puzzles built, as it seemed, into the very layout of the temple—the lights, and the switch that required chuchus (even with two people wandering the Temple), and this face like a mask… these were either built into the Temple from the start, or the Temple was a structure that could rearrange itself.

He shrugged. There was no one to ask. Instead, he waited a few more seconds, and then lowered the mirror shield. When the light didn't leave the sun-shaped face, he replaced the shield on his back, and looked away from it.

The pit beneath the mask had filled with light, and the mist had cleared away, revealing a homogenously shallow pit, shallow evenly all over, with the pile of broken brambles and the switch he had stepped on being the only asymmetrical things about it. Even the jars on the back wall were arranged just so. In the centre of the pit, beneath the non-existent nose of the mask, stairs led up to a long tunnel, with a door at the far end.

He turned, remembering Medli, and said, "Well, I think it will stay, now. Let's go!"

He waited for her to return her lyre to its place upon her back before running into the pit. Medli followed him at a slightly slower pace, and he had to wait for her at the door.

On the other side was another room filled with blue mist. There was the ledge through which they had entered, and another, and a door leading down, on the far side of the room. This one was covered in steel bars. Connecting the two ledges was a bridge of wooden slats and ropes. Across the bridge, at regular intervals, giant skeletal heads wreathed in red (and yes, they were red, and not yellow or orange) flames flew.

There were only two probable ways to lift those bars and progress. The first was to defeat those flying skeletal heads, and any other monsters hiding in the room. The other was to find some manner of switch, and, judging by what he could see of the room, it would be hidden down in the mist below them. There were no sunbeams here.

He looked up, hoping for a hole in the ceiling, but there was nothing there. The ceiling was too high above them to be seen. He remembered the skulls from the Tower of the Gods, however (Tetra—no, Zelda—had said that they were called "bubbles", a thoroughly unsuiting name). He distinctly recalled shooting them from the air with the bow.

"Wait here," he instructed Medli. "Unless, of course, there's danger; use your best judgement. I'll be back soon."

He stepped forward, onto the bridge, and wisps of that incapacitating blue mist swept over his feet, but didn't rise high enough to do any real damage.

He pulled out the bow, and the quiver appeared, slung over his shoulder. He took careful aim, shooting the two bubbles patrolling the bridge out of the air, and looked at at the door before him. It was still barred.

He glanced back at Medli. Really, she would be in less danger from being incapacitated by the mist than he, but for all he knew, the area below him was crowded with monsters, and the mist muffled any sound they might make.

"Well, what do you make of this? The way forward is through this door, but the way to unbar it must be hidden in that incapacitating mist," he said, tapping his foot as he peered around the room, looking for any object that might be considered a switch. Nothing that he could see.

He pulled out the map, and saw that there was a room marked through a door on the floor below him (which was also filled in, informing him that it was the room of the mist beneath him), somewhere on his right. He could sense Zelda peering at the map too, through his eyes, as he stared at the symbol for stairs lying above the door he had been glaring at.

"You have to go through that other door anyway, which means trudging through that mist. Keep a close eye out for monsters and the switch you need. I don't know any better than you—except to say that the effects of that mist are temporary. If you're careful, you should be able to make it through just fine. But I think you might want to wear my communication stone as a pendant, lest you drop it in that damn mist!"

That, actually, was a really good idea. This way, he and Zelda could communicate without him having to worry about keeping the complicated knot tied that he used to ensure it stayed in place on his right hand even while he used the shield. He untied said knot, and slipped the cord over his neck. It would be a liability in battle, but he could handle that when it came to it. Right now, he was trying to avoid engaging the enemy, anyway.

He found a ladder leading down to the lower floor (2B), and climbed down into the mist. As he descended, he heard faint scuffling sounds coming from nearby. The mist was just thin enough for him to see where he was going. Also, he could see that the floor was filled with wallmasters. They were making the scuffling noises he had heard. He sighed, ignoring Zelda's sharp intake of breath, and crept through the room, heading for the other door.

He did not encounter a switch on his way, of course.

This room, too, was filled with mist and wallmasters. He picked a careful path through the room, trying in vain to move his hands and arms. They did not respond. He could not recall being this vulnerable before. It was rather as if all of his experience thus far, all that skill acquisition and learning, was for naught. What use the knowledge of how to fight when he couldn't lift his shield off his back to defend himself?

He crept past the wallmasters, reminded forcibly of his first time in the Forsaken Fortress, so long ago, making a perimeter of the room, looking for a way to clear out the room. He noticed at least one wallmaster, waiting near a jar, reach for one instead of him as he came close. Why?

On the far side of the room was a square archway, and beyond that archway, a small room devoid of mist, and, in the middle of that room, a step-on switch. He stepped on the switch, and the mist cleared away, slowly, slowly draining out of the room. He wondered if (he hoped that) it drained away outside, as well, but who knew? Dungeons were mysterious. He was just glad that he could fight off the wallmasters, now. Here.

Well, there was nothing else for it. He pulled the sword and shield off his back, and then realised that he had.

"Alright! Do you suppose the mist has gone from the other room?" Zelda asked.

Link shrugged. "We'll just have to see. Don't distract me, just now, alright? I have to defeat these wallmasters without getting too close…."

He replaced the sword and shield back onto his back, and pulled out the messenger bag. He was a very good shot with the bow, after all.

Once he had defeated a few wallmasters, there were enough jars located far from any wallmasters that he was able to defeat the rest by using the jars as impromptu weapons. He was very much aware of how dangerous broken pottery was. As were the wallmasters, who persisted in throwing the jars they could reach at him. Jars flew through the air all over whatever section of the room he was in at any given time. He heard Zelda stifle a laugh, and grinned. It must look a bit strange, from the outside.

At last, the last monster was defeated, and a treasure chest appeared, dropping down out of nowhere with a thunk. Link, pulling out the dungeon map, discovered that the chest in question had appeared in the alcove with the switch.

He walked back to the treasure chest—the first small treasure chest he had seen in this dungeon—and pulled out a small key. Huh. According to the dungeon map, there were few rooms in this dungeon he had not already been to. Well, alright. That just made for fewer choices. That was fine by him.

He returned to the room with the blue mist and the bridge, to find that the mist had, indeed, cleared from this room, too. (Zelda cheered, and Link smiled, as he pulled off the pendant, and rearranged it on his right hand.)

There were, mercifully, much fewer wallmasters here than in the previous room. When he had defeated the last one, hiding on the far side of the room (to the left of the bridge, according to his original entry door), the bars on the door before the staircase at last lifted. He climbed up the ladder on the left-hand side of the bridge, and returned to Medli.

"Time to keep going," he said, and Medli nodded, and followed him.

Behind this door, a spiral staircase wound down, deep into the ground, before stopping before an unbarred, unlocked door.

Beyond this door was a mystery. It was a room filled with mirrors, with a tall column in the centre, and two shafts of light falling from the ceiling. (Wasn't there a room above them? Maybe he should check the map.) The sunlight fell onto two mirrors, which reflected a beam across two daises, symmetrically arranged on either side of that column in the middle of the room. Miniature suns decorated various parts of the wall—painted on. Still….

He stood in a patch of light, and reflected the light of the sun onto the sun-painting. It began to glow and the wall around it crumbled. Right. There was a plan in his head, now.

He made a perimeter of the room to check for monsters, and then returned to the doorway, where Medli waited. No, the giant mask-face on the far wall did not escape his notice. Well, at least now he had a goal.

Medli was puzzled, but did not question his order to shine the light of her harp onto every sun design she saw (and to call if she accidentally triggered a trap doing this). She ran over to the platform on the right, first, and Link went to the dais on the left.

He focused the sunlight onto a sun beneath the one he had already lit, and the wall around it also crumbled, revealing a narrow, low passageway, with a mirror on a block. Looking at the floor, he saw a low path chiseled into the stone, a proper guiding ledge for the stone block. It was shallow enough that he hadn't noticed the slight indentation when walking across the floor, but the blocks were heavy enough that it would be very difficult to drag the mirror-block out of that path.

He ran over, and set to dragging it into place. When he had, he observed that the original shaft of light now struck this second mirror. A nearby platform gave him a way to direct the light onto sun-paintings "decorating" the central pillar. Within, he found yet another mirror, sitting on yet another block, which he was able to position to reflect the original sunbeam across a third dais. Here, at last, he could reach the face in the wall.

What was Medli doing? Of course! He had become so fixated on his work (and, if he were honest, unaccustomed to being accompanied by another person in the flesh) that he had forgotten her assigned task. He returned to see her puzzling over a door in the right hand wall. He dismissed said door for the moment, instead pulling the mirror that Medli had revealed whilst he had been working on the other side of the room out of the right-hand wall to reflect the light of the first mirror.

Medli seemed to come to herself, and climbed onto her second platform, focusing the light onto the sun designs in the hollowed out alcove in the middle of the room. Of course, just as he hadn't seen this mirror when pulling his side's final mirror into place, so he now saw no trace of the passage through which he had dragged that mirror.

At last, however, the last mirror was in place, and he glanced over at the door Medli had uncovered. According to the map, there was a single room beyond that point, which meant that it shouldn't take him very long, if he left by himself.

What encouraged him to just go was the fact that the door was locked. He pulled out the small brass key, and fit it into the brass padlock. Of course, the chains disappeared even as they fell, and Link didn't bother stepping over the place where they ought to be as he pulled open the door.

This room was a square of corridors lined with coffins, and he felt Zelda tense. She had been silent as he had analysed and solved the puzzle of mirrors, seemingly respecting his need for quiet, but that companionable silence had shifted to one born of fear. Neither of them particularly wanted to see what these coffins contained, and he knew by now that they would rattle, and the lid would fall off as he approached. The question was—how many of them contained those walking corpses?

The answer, he discovered, after making his way through the corridor, and its fifteen coffins, was either three, or far too many, depending on how literally you wanted to take the question. There were, in addition, keese, two stalfoi, and (aha!) a big treasure chest, painted green. He pulled out the boss key, noticed that it was brassy, as the small keys, with cobalt blue eyes. Why blue? Did it matter?

He was still shivering when he returned to the room filled with mirrors. He dropped the map when he pulled it out, to give himself an excuse to wait to use the mirror shield. What were those monstrous corpses? Zelda's fear poured into him from the stone, and he braced himself, trying to bear the brunt of it; it was his fault that she was so terrified to begin with. He whispered reassuring words to her, and waited until his hands had more-or-less stopped shaking before retrieving the map. There were no other hidden chambers.

"I'm sorry, Link," she said, sounding contrite. "Those things—"

"The less said about them, the better," Link agreed, stuffing the dungeon map back into his messenger bag. It was the fourth one he had put in there. Why did he always pull out the right one the first time?

But, he shrugged that question off as unimportant, to be considered later, and went over to Medli.

"Same as in the room above, shine the sunlight onto the eye on the right," he told her, as he headed to the left-hand dais. He had to return to point out the giant face on the wall to her. Was it that difficult to notice?

This time, their actions were much more in sync, and the two sides of the face lit up at almost the same time. Once it did, the wall beneath it began to fall, in short slats, making steps like those he had seen in a room above. The steps led down, down, down, to a door.

Beyond this door, according to the map, was a circular chamber, and that chamber contained the door leading to the boss's lair. They were almost done. He would at last meet Jalhalla, and avenge Laruto. But, of course, first things first, they had to find out what lay beyond that door.

"I think it'll stay open, now," he told Medli, and they made their way down the stairs together in silence.

On the other side of the door was another winding staircase, and at the bottom of that, a stele inscribed with the "Earth God's Lyrics" blocked their way. He pulled out the Wind Waker, and Medli pulled out her harp, and Zelda watched with evident curiosity.

He guided Medli through the melody, such as he knew it, and she played a shorter version of the song that Laruto had played, and Medli herself, at the entrance.

"Is that still 'The Earth God's Lyrics'? It's awfully short."

He was very aware of Zelda hanging on his every word.

"For these stele inside the Temple, the shorter version will do," Medli said. He considered asking how she knew this, but then dismissed the idea. He suspected that it was somehow connected to her fainting spell. That was when she had begun to act different. Who knew what, precisely, happened when you awakened to the knowledge that you were a destined Sage?

He nodded to show that he understood. The cracks of light spread through the monument, and it shattered into dust. Beyond lay the circular room on the map. They were at the top of a set of stairs winding down. At the far side of the room was a ledge, much lower than they, and with no easy means of access. The giant brass padlock glinted visibly even from here. He turned to Medli.

"Medli, could you fly me to the far side of the room, or is that too taxing for you?"

He had his own means of flying—sort of—but he didn't want to waste either magic power or energy, when he was about to fight the mysterious Jalhalla.

Medli gave a tight nod, and picked him up in her talons, grunting with the effort as she flew across the gap. They barely made it, and Medli sat down abruptly on the far side after dropping Link unceremoniously onto the platform. They were very near to the abyss leading down into darkness. Link swallowed, hard. Perhaps, he'd asked too much of her.

"I'm sorry, Link," she said, gasping for breath. He pulled out his messenger bag, realised he didn't know if ritos flew by using magic, or if it was just like walking was for a human, and put it back.

"It's not your fault, Medli. I asked too much of you," he said heavily, turning to the door. "Wait here. I have to defeat the boss before it's safe for you to come inside. I'll…try to find some way to let you know when it's safe."

Medli nodded, and Link, frowning at himself, pulled out the messenger bag again.

"Have some blue potion," he said. "It should help you to recover."

That was the wonderful thing about blue potion, wasn't it? To think, he'd almost forgotten that he had some.

Medli took a small sip of the potion, and smiled faintly at him. "I couldn't possibly take any more," she explained. "This is very revitalising. I feel much better already!" She did seem to have regained some of her energy, so Link, after confirming that she was sure that she didn't need more, replaced it in his messenger bag, and approached the boss's door, having already fished out the key.

He fitted said key into the lock, and twisted, and the padlock fell away, revealing a green door with the symbol of the Triforce emblazoned on it.

"Link, shouldn't you rest first, before confronting the boss? As long as you're down here, you don't need to eat or sleep, but—you've done a lot of work."

He shrugged. "I can rest once Laruto is avenged, and Jalhalla defeated. I'll ignore whatever the King of Red Lions says to the contrary."

He heard Zelda huff, and grinned again, despite himself, as he turned to the door to command it to open. It rose up into the ceiling without protest, slamming down abruptly behind him once he had passed through.

"Do you want me to keep watch for you?" asked Zelda, sounding resigned, as Link spun back around to look at the closed door, as if he couldn't help it.

"I don't know anything about this boss, but, if we work together, I'm sure we can figure something out."

A shaft of conspicuous sunlight shone nearby, but Link's attention was drawn to the huge white mask lying on the floor in the centre of the room. Was that Jalhalla, or was Jalhalla one of the twenty or so poes running aimlessly about the room? The poes he had previously encountered were all blue, but these were in many different colours: blue, yes, but also red, purple, green, and yellow.

As if in response to his unspoken question, the poes turned as one to face him, standing stock still, and then hurried for the mask lying on the ground. Without their frenetic activity, he saw that the room was lined with spikes, and that there were four columns spaced to the northwest, northeast, southeast, and southwest. But, that was all he had time to notice before his attention returned to the mask, and the poes that were somehow jumping into it.

When the last poe had climbed in, somehow, the mask lifted up on its own, and a body formed around it—that of a vast poe, at least as big as its constituent parts, with a broad belly, and a tuft of hair on its head. It wore a red vest loosely over its chest. It was unarmed until it looked at its left hand, snapped its fingers, and gave an approving nod as a huge lantern appeared there. Link remembered that the poes of before were vulnerable to light, and made for the column of light.

Only for it to disappear, as Jalhalla laughed, and then sent a gust of air in his direction, driving him back towards the spikes lining the wall, no matter how he try to push through the violent gust of air.

"Just like the Helmaroc King, then," he said grimly. "Well, then. At least this one can't fly."

The light of the sun appeared in a different place, and he glared up towards the ceiling, but ran for the light, as he narrowly avoided being squashed flat by Jalhalla's bulk. He pulled the mirror shield off his back as he ran, and held it up to shine the light onto Jalhalla, who dropped its lantern , and slowly turned from translucent to a deep, deep blue, and fell onto its back on the floor.

Link sighed, noticed the four strategically placed spike-covered columns, and trudged over to the temporarily immobilised poe, picking it up with great reluctance. It was incredibly heavy for something that was technically not even of the physical world.

He strained to turn until he faced the nearest column, and threw the poe at it. When it hit the spike-laden wall, it shattered into its constituent poes, all of which were now solid, and Link smiled. It was not a pleasant, reassuring sort of smile.

He drew the Master Sword from his side, and began to track down and kill the poes, which had resumed their frantic aimless running. Eventually, however, the remaining poes, translucent again, turned, as if given a hidden signal, and ran for the mask, diving down inside it, and Jalhalla swelled up again around it.

"Link, watch out!" Zelda cried, as the giant poe brandished its lamp at Link, flinging balls of fire at him. Well, it was probably too much to hope that Jalhalla only had one means of attack. Two, if it could still possess people like a normal poe, which Link suspected that it could.

Link backed away from the flames burning on the stone floor, and Jalhalla's quick intake of breath was his only warning before he was being driven back towards the spikes lining the wall. He knew that there wasn't space enough to avoid the collision, and thus, he set the mirror shield back onto his back, in the hopes of protecting the most critical areas, and reached for his messenger bag. He knew that he had some red potion in it, somewhere.

The mirror shield took the brunt of the impact, especially with Link bent forwards trying to ensure just that, but the spikes still drove deep into his legs, as Jalhalla laughed. He heard Zelda squeal, and then cry out in alarm. With a cry of his own, he fell over onto his front, halfway through pulling out the messenger bag, and rolled onto his side. Jalhalla, meanwhile, was flinging flames at him.

He glared at the poe as best he could through the pain, and reached into his messenger bag to pull out the red potion.

"Link, are you alright? Never mind, that's a dumb question. What are you going to do?" Zelda sounded frantic, her speech rushed, and her words tripping over themselves. She'd sounded more polished as a pirate captain.

Link, in reply, uncorked his bottle of potion, and downed at least half of it, before his legs sealed up, and the immediate danger passed. He glared at his blood-soaked trousers, even then trying to figure out how to clean the blood out of his grandmother's hard work.

Then he focused on a foe truly worthy of his ire: Jalhalla. He surged back to his feet, slightly re-energised by the potion, and ran for the ridiculously mobile pocket of light.

Jalhalla hadn't been expecting an attack so soon. It dropped its lantern with a disgruntled shout, and fell onto the floor as it gained unfamiliar solidity. Link approached it, picked it up, and chucked it unceremoniously at the nearest column. It burst into fifteen or so poes, which began milling about.

Link drew the Master Sword once more, and began chasing them down. He managed to finish off half of them before they heard their silent summoning, and all jumped back into the mask.

Jalhalla laughed, swinging its lantern, and Link gritted his teeth.

"Watch out!" Zelda cried, and Link avoided the patches of fire, running towards Jalhalla, rather than away, catching sight of another (the same) patch of light, over to Jalhalla's left. Jalhalla threw itself down onto the ground in Link's direction. It was the second time that it had done that, making Link suspicious. Was this how Jalhalla possessed people, or would he merely have been crushed if he hadn't rolled to safety into the patch of light?

He pulled the mirror shield off his back, and focused the light onto Jalhalla again, waiting until it was fairly corporeal before approaching the sitting ghost.

Link lifted it with great difficulty, and tossed it at the southeast pillar, as it flailed its arms about.

Jalhalla burst into eight different poes, and Link swiped at them indiscriminately as he rushed by them on the way to the mask. Predictably, he couldn't even touch it, and the Master Sword couldn't put a scratch in it. Of course not. It wasn't at full power yet. It wasn't even at half power.

He had killed five of the remaining poes when the remaining three ran for the mask. Link got out of their way, watching as the mask fleshed itself out, just as big as it had been when it held twenty poes.

Jalhalla swung its lantern, and Link dove for the light, but the fire was actual fire, and not some ghostly fake, and he felt the heat of it as it narrowly passed him by. Before Jalhalla could inhale, Link focused the beam of light from the patch of sun onto it, and it dropped its lantern and fell onto its back as it became solid, for what Link hoped was the final time.

He picked the ghost up, threw it at the southwest column, and Jalhalla exploded into three poes, which weren't even the same colours as the three that had jumped into the mask. Link wondered if that was somehow important—or did poes change their colours as humans changed their clothes?

He shrugged, doubting that anyone had the answer, especially as the uniformity of previous poes' appearances suggested that these multicoloured poes were unique to Jalhalla. As far as he knew, only three people had ever encountered Jalhalla, one of them being Ganon, and one of them being he himself. Answers would probably not be forthcoming.

He hunted down the last of the three poes, which evaporated in a swirl of light, and the mask began to move on its own.

Just as Link was bracing himself for a second boss fight, he noticed that the (comparatively harmless) mask didn't seem to be able to see what it was doing, or tell where it was going. It wandered into the patch of sunlight that suddenly appeared before it, cracked in half, and then began to chip away into pieces. In a few seconds, nothing remained—not even dust—of Jalhalla. Zelda cheered. Elation flooded from her side of their connection.

"You did it, Link! Way to go! Sorry I wasn't of more help…."

Link shrugged. "You warned me about the fire of that lantern, and you told me everything I know about poes. You did plenty."

The symbol of the triforce appeared in the centre of the room, as the spikes disappeared, retracting into the walls. The empty triangle in the centre of the triforce glowed with a familiar column of blue light.

Link turned back to the door through which he had entered, banging on it as hard as he could.

Medli entered a few seconds later, looking around wide-eyed at the boss's chamber, first, even though there was little to see, now, and then looking at Link, and seeing the blood-soaked legs of his trousers.

"Link Sylvanus, are you alright?" she gasped, hands flying to her mouth.

"I'm fine," he said, with a frown. "I have some red potion. It helps heal wounds, and recover lost energy. Maybe I should have given you some?"

Medli gave him a polite smile in return, and Link took a moment to appreciate the contrast between Komali and Medli. Medli was very studious and serious, and oh-so-polite, and Komali had been none of those things when first they had met—although he did seem to be growing up and becoming more responsible. Medli was very businesslike, if somewhat unsure of her capability, and Komali had also needed a boost to his confidence. He still wondered how they had met, and why they seemed to be such good friends (or more, judging by Komali's behaviour, and Medli's slightly lower degree of formality in matters concerning the prince).

"Stand in the light," Medli said now, "and I'll stand here. Conduct that song again. Help me to guide my prayers to the gods."

Link stepped into the blue light, which didn't carry him up through the ceiling to the surface.

"Draw the Master Sword," said Medli, and Link did as he was told, thinking that Medli deserved to be giving orders now. He could imagine that she would make a great rito queen, someday. Komali needed someone as steadfast as Medli.

He pulled out the Wind Waker, and followed the remembered markings for the Earth God's Lyrics. Medli joined the wind as it hummed the full melody. Halfway through, where always before the music had stopped, Laruto's ghost appeared. He glanced over at Medli, whose eyes were closed, and then closed his own, listening as the same harp played two different parts of the score.

When it had finished, he opened his eyes as the Master Sword began to shake. Slowly, the wings of the handle began to spread apart from the crossguard, and a faint blue sheen appeared on the sword. A trail of sparks flew from the sword, and then vanished. Link raised the sword into the light to see how this made it seem to glow with its own light.

"I must stay down below," said Medli. "I will continue to offer my prayers down here. Good luck on your quest."

She bowed deeply to him, and he bowed back to her. A surreptitious glance around the room confirmed that Laruto had gone. Who knew, with ghosts?

"Goodbye, Link," Zelda called, sounding forlorn. "Call me again, when you come to the next Temple. I look forward to helping to guide you again!"

"Sylvanus!" Medli called, as the light began to lift him up. He looked down at her, and she continued in a rush. "Please look after Komali for me!"

Yep, there was definitely something there on both sides. A pity that he'd torn them apart forever. He clenched his fists, but nodded in agreement as the light carried him higher, and higher….

It set him down on the shore where he had landed. The King of Red Lions floated nearby, yawning widely.

"Ah, Sylvanus, there you are," he called. "You were gone for two days! I did start to worry."

Link just raised an eyebrow and folded his arms, but inside, he was contemplating, calculating the difference between how long he thought he had spent below, and how long he had. It had only seemed to be a single day….

"All that hard work needs sleep. We can wait a few hours to go to Ice Ring Isle," he told the boat firmly, ignoring his frown. Link lay down on the shore of Headstone Island, far enough in to not need to consider the tides, and fell asleep.

When he awoke, he downed what remained of his red potion, and walked back to the King, who frowned in what was probably supposed to be a reproachful manner, but it was hard to tell, since only his mouth was capable of expressing any emotion.

"I need to return to Windfall to recover my supplies," Link said. The alchemist insisted that he still owed Link three batches of potion for bringing in "so many excellent samples of chu jelly". Since the jelly would keep the alchemist supplied for some time, he supposed that free potions were an understandable reward, but the alchemist struck him as the sort of person who often gave discounts for frivolous reasons anyway.

Link had brought him the first green chu jelly the man had ever seen, and what had he done? He'd toyed with his equipment for several hours (Link had wandered Windfall Island and periodically checked back on the man) before crying "Eureka!", and had offered Link a bottle of it free of charge. And, Link was allowed to keep the bottle. Also, most of the other stores on Windfall were closed at night, but not the potions shop. It was admirable in a way, but when did the man sleep? He must be one of those eccentric genii Sturgeon had read to him about

It was a good thing, too, Link mused as he thoughtlessly pointed at square D-2 on his sea chart with a murmured request for transport to Windfall. Link was starting to run low on funds, after all, even using the rupees Niko had left in his wallet. He'd have to find some rupees, and soon. For now, however, he could ask the alchemist for another red potion, and warp to the Forest Haven.

The cyclone deposited him by the pier of Windfall, and Link set off, under the arch, to see the alchemist, who was rambling on about rumours of a rare electric blue chuchu from which he suspected that he could derive the ultimate medicine. Link hadn't seen any blue chuchus, electric or otherwise, but he kept the thought in mind as he walked back out of the shop ten minutes later.

Ilari landing near the mailbox distracted him. The red postbox was located just outside the arch leading into the town, and thus Link didn't have to go out of his way to gain Ilari's attention.

"Sylvanus! Hold on a moment! I have a couple of letters for you! I don't know how, but our chieftain, Shavoli, always seems to know precisely where you are. It's a tough job, keeping track of you. You seem to move as fast as a rito sometimes."

"A gift from Cyclos," Link said succinctly. He hadn't expected to be intercepted by a rito. What if they asked about Komali? What if they asked about Medli?

"Ah," said Ilari, nodding in understanding. "That explains things. And, Prince Komali sends his regards and greetings. He's become a fine young man. For a moment, we worried—but then you showed up. He greatly admires you, you know."

Link swallowed, hard, but Ilari wasn't looking at him; he was rummaging around in his messenger bag.

"I've a letter from your sister, Aryll, and one from your grandmother, and one from a rather odd fellow who answers to the name of 'Tingle', although that can't possibly be his real name…."

Link shuddered at the mention of the name. He took the first two letters with something like reverence, but touched the last only by the corners. Ilari did not seem to find his behaviour strange.

"Thank you, Ilari," he said. "I very much appreciate—everything the ritos have done for me."

Ilari grinned back at him. "No problem… I'm just glad that it was me! I still owe you for your help the other day…."

"Give my regards to Prince Komali, and Quill," said Link, staring fixedly at the letter from Aryll. "I have to continue my quest, but thank them both for me. And, thank you again, Ilari."

Ilari bowed, and straightened up, turning back to the postbox, as Link went back downhill, and then began to climb the wall around the snail's shell of the city, looking for an out-of-the-way place to look at his letters.

He sat on the wall, and withdrew the letter from Aryll from its place in his messenger bag. As he removed the envelope, it quadrupled in weight, and four red rupees fell out. He raised an eyebrow at no one in particular, and began to read the letter, hoping for some manner of explanation.

Hey, Big Brother,

Here's hoping you're doing all right on your quest. It's just like the stories of the Hero of Time, isn't it? But, I wish you were here with me on the ship, instead. They're training me to be a pirate! Sure, I have to do chores, but they pay me well.

I figure that, as long as we're out at sea, I don't need the money—but you probably do, Big Brother! You have to pay me back, though—and don't think I've forgotten Grandpa's telescope! You have to make it through this, s o that you can return it to me!

I've written Grandma a letter to let her know that I'm alright. She wrote one to you, too, I think. The postmen are going out of their way to help me communicate with you. The one with the funny updo seems really fond of you. Isn't he the postman back home?

I hope I see you again soon, Link. Make sure you take good care of my telescope!

Love, your sister,

Aryll

Link realised that he was grinning. Aryll was safe, and she was with the pirates! This letter must have been written quite recently, if she said she had been there for several days. He was glad that she was still well. He had thought that the pirates might have dropped her off at Outset, but Tetra must have said something to them before she disappeared, and they were looking after her as if she were one of their own. Perhaps too well! He smirked at the thought of his poor Grandma's reaction to the skills Aryll might have acquired by the time she came home, and pulled out his grandmother's letter.

Dear Link,

It's so lonely in our old home without you and Aryll here, but I'm sure that you are attending to very important business; Aryll says so . I want you to know that I'm very proud of you, and that your parents would have been proud of you, too. I hope you are taking good care of the outfit I made for you. Wear it with pride!

Remember, if you ever feel lonely and in need of rest, your home will always be open for you, and I'll make your favourite soup! In the meantime, I found a strange rupee behind the house, and thought you should have it.

Come home and see me again soon, if you can.

Love,

Grandma

An orange rupee was attached (magically?) to the letter. Link stared at it, wondering if it was money at all, but then picked it up and put it into his empty wallet, that he had gotten from Niko, along with Aryll's four red rupees. Hyrulean wallets were magical of a necessity, capable of breaking down rupees, or recombining them into larger or smaller denominations. If the orange rupee was money, it would know.

Finally, Link bowed his head, bracing himself, taking a deep breath as he drew out the third and final letter. He removed two pieces of paper from the envelope—one of them was rolled up into a scroll, which swiftly expanded from as small as a one-rupee piece, to as wide as his chest. He glanced at it, but decided that he had better read the letter, first. Perhaps, that would provide an explanation. He just hoped that Tingle seemed less creepy via post than in person.

No such luck. The letter addressed him as "Mr. Fairy", and Tingle began by repeatedly entreating him to lead Tingle to the home of the Fairy Folk, so that he could become a fairy and live happily ever after. It was rather like their first meeting, on that first day on Windfall, when he had unwittingly freed Tingle from jail.

That jail cell had looked unusually homey for something meant to punish criminals. It had a bed, and chairs, a table, and even a bookcase. Not only that, but it was very large. Tingle had, even before he'd been freed, given the impression of extreme… oddity, and Link thought that this was his house, and he had gotten stuck inside.

Not the most sensible conclusion, sure, but there were no guards, and no means for the man to get food. A switch hidden behind some barrels had opened a hole in the bars, and Tingle had hurried out, before beginning his great monologue about fairy paradise, and how Tingle thought that Link was "one of the fairy people", and that he himself was "the very reincarnation of a fairy". He'd extolled the virtues of fairykind, before falling to his knees, begging Link to take him to the fairy kingdom. And this before Link had met a Great Fairy, let alone the Fairy Queen.

That was not the end of Tingle's disturbing delusions, but the worst about him did not bear dwelling upon. At least Link had acted in innocent ignorance, right? Unfortunately, his penance was that he now had mail from the man.

He unfolded the letter further, skimming past the usual threats and promises to where the true message of the letter began:

"It has come to my attention that you are seeking the Triumph Forks of legend. From various travelers—" whom he had probably enslaved as he had poor Davey Junior, "—I have finally learnt the location of eight charts that will tell you where each piece is hidden can be found! I have marked them on the chart I have sent you. I have heard that these rare charts are very difficult to figure out, but bring them to me, Mr. Fairy, and I will decipher them at a bargain rate of four hundred rupees each! I look forward to seeing you soon, Mr. Fairy."

What? Triumph Forks? Charts showing where charts could be found? Now what was Tingle on about?

"Whoever told him that I was looking for Triumph Forks must have been—" he paused. Triumph Forks. Legendary Triumph Forks. Could it be…?

He jumped down from the wall, letter and chart clutched in one hand, and ran down the hill towards where he had left the King of Red Lions.

When he read the pertinent section of the letter to him, the boat turned to face Link with a smug grin, and Link knew whom Tingle had gotten the idea that they were looking for "Triumph Forks" from.

"Is it the artefact from legend?" he asked, cutting himself off.

The boat gave him a broad grin. "I believe it is. But, let us not be distracted. We must head to Ice Ring Isle, and then to Gale Island to discover what has become of the Wind Sage!"

With Zelda's words in his mind, Link could find no suitable protest to these actions. It didn't much matter how long they left the two Sages down below, and how long could it take to gather the eight charts, anyway? He was more worried about raising the funds, but Tingle had mentioned a fairy fountain located due north of Tingle Island (ah, such narcissism!).

Link pulled out the sea chart and the Wind Waker without a word, conducting the "Ballad of Gales", and warping to the Forest Haven, before putting away the sea chart, and guiding the Wind through the "Wind's Requiem". The Ice Ring Isle was located almost due northwest. As the King of Red Lions raised the sail, he pulled Tingle's chart back out, unrolling it, and committing the squares of the chart which held treasure maps to memory.

One, he noticed, was located off to the side at the end of a telescope focused on a blue ship. Another was, apparently, located inside a cannon boat. The others were all on islands. It seemed pretty straightforward. One chart was even located just north of Ice Ring Isle!

He smiled, nodded to himself, and rolled the scroll back up, tied it, and put it away. He wondered why it was that the sea chart was divided exactly the same way as his own. He suspected that the fishmen were responsible for maintaining a certain uniformity to the charts, whether by making them themselves, or being the only ones capable of filling in the information. Was it a lucrative business, making sea charts?

There was plenty of time to consider the matter as they sailed northwest. The Forest Haven was located far to the south of its square, and the Ice Ring Isle was located in the southeast corner of its. The distance was not that great—not enough to justify taking a nap. But, it was enough that he needed something else to keep him occupied.

Half a day after sailing from the Forest Haven, he felt the air began to chill, and saw the snowflakes falling from some unidentifiable source. As they approached, the frozen ring of ice that was the island came into view, and, peering through the flurry as best he could, he caught sight of some giant stone or ice sculpture, spewing an incessant burst of frost. Snowflakes rose from this frost to blow about the island, and into the surrounding sea. He knew that he didn't want to approach the island without being able to see, and accordingly sailed around it until he came to an alcove within sight of the frost-breathing sculpture.

Reaching into the messenger bag, he at last pulled out the bow and arrows he had received at the Tower of the Gods, and then withdrew an arrow. As he concentrated on fire, hand clamped tight over the arrowhead, the head began to glow red, and fire began to emerge from it, surrounding the arrow. He took careful aim, before firing the arrow right into the mouth of a frost-spewing dragon sculpture.

He waited a moment, as the arrow traveled deep into the dragon's throat, and then hit something. The blizzard coming from the serpentine mouth stopped, and the snowflakes began to settle, as Link leapt from his boat, already looking for a way to that yawning mouth.

He found an area where the higher ring around the perimeter was low enough that he could climb up. Thence, he slipped, slid, and ran around the rim that this higher ledge formed around a pool of unfrozen water. Inside the pool floated a series of icebergs. This was rather like running from platform to platform across the rocks jutting out near the bridge back home. And, something else, although what this something was, he couldn't think.

The icebergs floated in circles around the water, as if stirred by invisible currents. Link timed his jumps with great care, mindful even still that the dragon might "reawaken" at any time. What would happen if he were hit by the full force of a blizzard, compacted into an icy blast? Nothing good. He might freeze clean through. That would be a pitiful end to his quest.

But, he was able to reach the mouth of the dragon, which yawned wide, with sharp, curved teeth, but nothing but a wall lay at the back of the mouth. There was no visible source for the frost, unless it be the hole in the middle of the beast's tongue. It was always down, down, down to the source, wasn't it?

There was no time to think about it. Link leapt into the hole, trusting the yellow light to carry him down. It set him down, gently, at a ledge leading to a path snaking through a deep abyss. The path looked even more slippery than outside, and small wonder, if this cave held the origin of the frost.

There wasn't time to be as careful as Link wished, as he ran cautiously down the path

Then, the keese appeared, flying towards him, alight with what looked to be blue flame. He scowled, pulling out the boomerang and taking aim only when they seemed to be diving towards him. Meanwhile, he concentrated on making his way to the door at the end of the path. He hadn't seen it from the yellow light on account of the giant brown slab of rock rising to the ceiling, forming a natural safety wall along part of his winding route.

Said door was the same ice blue as the wall all around it. There was another door similar to it across the gap, leading to a path that ended in a higher ledge right next to the light by which he had entered. He supposed this was intended to be his way out, once he had done whatever he needed to, beyond.

He walked up to the door, commanding it to open. It slid aside without a sound, revealing the mostly empty chamber beyond. Inside was a wooden treasure chest, painted blue.

Could it be that easy? Then again, he had to more-or-less run across a narrow path snaking across an abyss whilst being chased by mysterious fire-bearing bats. Perhaps, that was considered challenge enough.

He looked around, wary, that he might be forewarned of the presence of any trap or monster, and be given a chance to react and to avoid harm.

Inside the chest was a pair of boots that looked ordinary, except that the cuffs and insides were a dull, dark grey. Link felt confident in his assumption that he could only lift them out at all because of the silver gauntlets he still wore on his hands. The boots were plain and unadorned, unlike the silver gauntlets, which might mean that, whoever made them way back when, they had been a different party than that which had made the silver gauntlets (and the mirror shield). Both shield and gloves had a design of a crescent moon above a swirling design like a figure eight. There were no designs on the iron boots at all, as far as he could see.

He pulled off the boots he had worn up to this point, and put them into his messenger bag, walking barefoot to the other door leading out of the room. Through this door was a broader passageway leading up. Fierce winds blew from spinning fans lining either side of the passageway. Maybe they were natural phenomena, but he doubted it.

Link frowned, and pulled on the iron boots. Predictably, while the silver gauntlets seemed to spread a certain amount of strength throughout his body, this power boost was insufficient for lifting his feet faster than a crawl. He marched at a snail's pace across the floor filled with fans, biting his lip at the question of how much time he had left before the frost returned from its unknown source and trapped him in here (probably as an ice sculpture).

It only seemed to take forever to return to the yellow light that had brought him. As it lifted him out of the hole, he removed the iron boots, and put them into his messenger bag, which weighed no more than it had before.

He didn't bother to put the boots his grandmother had made him back on, running as fast as he could away from the mouth, sliding down into the water, which wasted no time in trying to freeze him solid. It was not as cold as it would have been had the mouth still been spewing frost and snowflakes, but it was incredibly cold, nonetheless.

Link's teeth were chattering, and he was shaking all over, which made him slip even more often as he climbed the ledge, and slid down the path he had trudged up, searching for his boat. He slipped and fell at least five times as he ran back to where the King of Red Lions waited. He was no longer sopping wet, somehow, but still felt frozen.

He said nothing to the King of Red Lions, pulling out the Wind Waker with shaking fingers, suspecting he'd still freeze to death if he didn't get warm soon.

Even blue potion would not dispel this chill, and he insisted upon returning home to recover for a short time. The boat might not have to worry about such things, but Link had read tales about what happened to men exposed to such cold. The clothes of the Legendary Hero had blocked a lot of the chill out, somehow, but enough seeped through for him to insist upon taking no chances.

At last, the King relented, perhaps because Link had already warped back to Outset, and was climbing up the hill to his house, and the stubborn king could not be seen to be weak or not in control of a situation.

Link smiled as he climbed the steps into his house. Grandma was standing by the fire, cooking her almost miraculous soup. It certainly seemed miraculous to Link, who felt frozen from the inside out. His teeth were still chattering.

Grandma served him up a bowl, upon seeing his expression. He ate for a while in silence, before turning to beam at his grandmother.

"I have to go, soon, but I think I'd like to rest in a familiar bed for a few hours. I got your letter. Someday, when this is all over, I'll tell you everything that happened. It's quite a long story, and incredible, and who knows who might be listening in on this conversation."

He frowned at his pocket, to remind the King that some things were meant to be private, but had no faith that the boat heeded this warning. Grandma merely smiled in return, a warm, soothing smile that had been sufficient when he had been a child, but made him feel strangely hollow now, now that he'd been out in the world, and fought a legendary evil (and almost been killed by the same).

"I'm sorry, Grandma. I wish that I could tell you more, but it's a secret, and it's important that I don't tell anyone. Not even my family."

He spat the last few words, for the truth of this ate away at him. But, his grandmother hummed and smiled as if he hadn't said anything unusual. When she came to pick up his bowl, he wrapped her into a tight hug, and felt warmth begin to return to him at last. His grandmother was nothing if not warm.

"The King of Red Lions always keeps me busy. I wanted to come home before, but he's always on the move—no delays! And, he helped me save Aryll, so I guess I owe him. Still, all his rules and demands! But, someday, I'll have repaid my debt. Then, I suppose, I'll be able to tell you everything."

"That will be nice," said his grandmother, as if she weren't listening. He cocked his head, analysing her, trying to divine if she had relapsed. She seemed well, if a bit distracted.

It hit him just then, the sentiment that home seemed small and foreign to him. He remembered the mirror shield on his back, and reached into the messenger bag to pull out his family's old shield, then put the bag back to climb the ladder to the second storey.

He hung the shield back up on the wall, and stood back to stare at it. It didn't look a hero's tool, but it had stayed him in good stead. He gave it something like a respectful bow, and climbed back down the ladder.

Suddenly, he felt that he couldn't leave soon enough. There were too many memories here, and they all seemed to belong to a happier, more carefree child. He clenched his fists, and thought of Jalhalla, and the as-yet-unknown monster that had killed the Sage of the Wind Temple.

"I'm sorry, Grandma, I have to go," he said,

Running away from your troubles? Some hero! Shows how brave you are. nagged his most critical inner voice. He swatted an area near his temple as if he could swat away that part of himself.

I'm doing my best, he snarled back to himself.

He returned to his boat in a thoroughly bad humour, pulling out the sea chart, and requesting a warp back to Windfall Island—this time to head to the island that stood to the northeast of it: Gale Island. It was time to meet the Wind Sage.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: Bully, Braggart, Hero

Gale Island was named that with good reason. A tall wall ran three-quarters of the way around the island, but from a strange stone in the middle of that wall came a steady stream of wind. There were what looked to be cracks in the stone, meaning that it could be broken—if Link or any of his weapons could come close enough. A cannon ship sailed around the island in circles, further complicating matters, because the iron boots would make him an easy mark for their cannons.

Accordingly, Link sat in the boat, and waited for the cannon ship to come within range of his mounted cannon. He'd take out the ship first, and then put on the iron boots, and trudge through to the source of the winds that gave the island its name.

It took three direct hits to sink the cannon ship, and Link hurried to jump out of his own, and pull out his messenger bag for the iron boots; he still wasn't wearing any shoes.

The iron boots enabled him to force his way up the shore to the stone steps leading to the ordinary-looking cracked stone blocking the entrance to a cave. He pulled out the hammer, because he didn't want to use any weapons that could be blown back in the direction of his boat (or in his) if he didn't have to, and swung it two-handed.

The rock shuddered with the first blow, and shattered as Link slammed the hammer down again. The winds dispersed, and Link set about removing his iron boots, and putting back on the boots that came with the hero's outfit. He wished that there were an easier way to go about this, but doubted that there could be. He just hoped that he never encountered an area where he would have to switch out shoes quickly.

Behind the stone that had blown a vortex of wind out to sea, a natural hole bored through the island, emerging into a hollow chamber, which likewise showed almost as few signs of human interference. However, as at the seaward entrance to the Earth Temple, this cave, too, contained a stele set into the far wall, flanked by two torches for lighting. Link looked at the markings carved into the rock, and the label of the tune: "The Wind God's Aria".

Then, he pulled out the Wind Waker from his messenger bag, and, pointing to the right with his right hand, he followed the markings inscribed in the stone: Up, up, down, right, left, right. He listened as the Wind hummed a fuller version, a jaunty little tune, like a jig, so lively that Link barely held still.

A ball of green light raced downwards in a spiral from the air before the monument, to the ground, and then there was a bright flash of green light. When Link opened his eyes, the translucent figure of a boy wearing a long-sleeved green tunic had appeared. Over the tunic, he wore a white decorative pannier emblazoned with a drawing of the sun.

He had a chubby, round face, and lips set into a seeming perpetual pout, bright blue eyes, and a comfortable-looking green cap was seated like a crown atop strawberry-blond hair. In one hand, he clutched a bow. In the other, he held a familiar leaf fiddle. Of course. Were there no casual musicians on the Great Sea?

"Are you the new hero?" he asked, and Link discovered that the boy had a hasty, impatient sort of voice, but one laced with authority and self-importance—a clipped, brusque sort of voice that did not match his childish appearance. He looked to be only ten years old, but….

"You don't look like much. Hmm. Well, I suppose you'll have to do." He paused, nodded to himself as if he had just decided something, and continued, in a rather different voice, "Though I have the outward semblance of a child, do not trust what you see. Your eyes oft deceive you to the true nature of your surroundings. I was once the esteemed Sage of this Wind Temple. I am of the Forest Folk, one among those who once took a form resembling human children, when we lived in a world not yet submerged beneath waves. I am Mido, erstwhile leader of those kokiri."

He gave a bow to Link, who, if uncertain, nevertheless bowed back. He was stricken by a powerful sense of familiarity. That self-importance, that haste, didn't he know it? Wasn't Makar much the same, if much politer?

"Nice to meet you?" he asked, and Mido snorted.

"You'll need a better attitude than that to make it through the Wind Temple in one piece. The Evil King Ganondorf sent a monstrous wyrm, the great wyrm Molgerra, to slay me as I offered my prayers in the Wind Temple. Believe it or not, I, the Great Mido, was taken off guard, without my weapons! But, I was able to send my fiddle to the surface, that its magic might continue to help my people, the kokiri. Or koroks, as I suppose they are now known.

"Here I waited, beneath the sea, for one to remember me, that I might deliver the grave tidings to them. And now, at last, a hero—" he cocked his head, with an expression that suggested that he was about to correct himself, and then continued, "—a hero has come to awaken the Master Sword.

"If you would return the power to repel evil to that sword you bear, seek out my reincarnation, the man who bears my fiddle. He will be of my people, who are now the koroks who live scattered across the Great Sea."

He held out the instrument towards Link, who could clearly see the earthy walls of the cave through the pointed leaf. Link's mind swam, trying to take in all of this new information. Mido's reincarnation. A great dragon. And, Makar's fiddle. He could connect all of that information into something less overwhelming, given time.

"Did the King of Red Lions bring you to me? Give him my apologies for failing him. Tell him that I will continue to play for him—even in the next world!"

Mido vanished in a great flash of green light, leaving the chamber once more barren of all save for the lit torches, and the stele. Link stared about the room for a second, and then turned back around to head for the entrance to the cave.

Hadn't he heard the name of Mido before? Had Makar mentioned it?

He couldn't recall. But, it sounded incredibly familiar—too familiar for a cursory mention to be the cause. Perhaps, it was that mysterious phenomenon, "déjà vu". Or, perhaps, it was the visions. They hadn't bothered him for a few days, after all. And, Mido's demeanour suggested long-ago times.

Perhaps, the King of Red Lions knew, but there was no surreptitious way to ask him about it that Link could think of, and the King was surprisingly close-mouthed for such a long-winded man. Link frowned at the ground, deep in thought, as he walked back to where his boat was waiting, almost grounded into the soft shoreline. Perhaps, he'd been fighting the winds trying to push him away, and had run aground.

Regardless, he didn't appear to have been damaged, and even if they were grounded, he suspected that Cyclos could send them off across the sea. He hadn't mentioned being in water as a limitation of the "Ballad of Gales"'s abilities, only that they needed to land in water.

He pulled out the Wind Waker, and warped back to the Forest Haven, remembering Makar hiding behind the waterfall, and hoping that he was still there.

Sure enough, when he swung into the cave behind the falls, he saw Makar standing on the dry ground at the back of the cave, still sawing away at the same tune on his fiddle. The reincarnation of Mido? Koroks looked so different from humans—and Mido outwardly appeared human—that it was impossible to see any physical resemblance.

And, why was Link trying to track such things, anyway? To see if the idea of reincarnation itself had any merit? Mido had flat-out told him that Makar was his reincarnation. But, koroks were spirits of the forest, and barely even humanoid. Who knew what behaviours governed their race that humans didn't share?

Even if humans did reincarnate, what reason did Link have but vanity to think that he might be the reincarnation of the Hero of Time? Ridiculous idea, right? The Hero of Time spoken of in tales had great courage, and had defeated Ganondorf single-handedly. Link, on the other hand….

He tensed, almost expecting those fingers to tighten around his throat once more, and then shook himself, scolding himself for being a coward, and for wasting time, while Zelda remained below, vulnerable. He climbed out of the shallow water onto the low, wet ground at the edge of Makar's grotto.

Makar sawed away on his fiddle, eyes closed, and stubby hands moving expertly. Link took a moment to listen to the music—still a work in progress, and noticeably so—before he came to stand next to the korok, already holding the Wind Waker baton.

"Hello, Makar," he said, and the little korok jumped, the bow screeching across the strings with an awful shriek.

"Oh, swordsman! Look what you've done! Don't startle me!"

He gave a higher-pitched squeal than usual, as Link wished that he could cover his ears properly whilst still holding the Wind Waker.

"Sorry, Makar," he said, with a grin. This one was a bit more excitable, hmm? But, he soon sobered at the thought of what lay ahead. "I was sent here by your previous incarnation, to guide you to your destiny."

These were exactly the sort of pompous words that Mido would love. Link didn't question that knowledge, not when the little korok, already recovered, beamed up at Link.

"Oh! A destiny, you say? Is that a conductor's baton? Will you conduct me?"

Link nodded. "There's a special, secret song that will unlock your knowledge of what you were always meant to do."

He found himself reassured of Medli's chances of returning to the world above, at least periodically; Makar had to come back at least once a year to perform the ceremony of the new year. Maybe he hadn't ruined her and Komali's chances, after all.

He held his right hand out to the right, and followed the melody with his left, and Makar haltingly followed along, brow furrowed in concentration. Or, perhaps it was distraction. He too seemed to hear the melody the wind hummed.

"Strange…" said the korok, his demeanour abruptly different. There was a sudden sense of gravity and age to him. "This song feels familiar…almost as if I knew it before…but before what?"

He raised the bow again, and began to play that jaunty little tune, but where the wind had stopped, he continued. As he played, his body seemed to grow taller, the leaf moved upwards to become a cap, strawberry-blond hair sprouted, and a green tunic, and boots, as the mottled bark turned into human skin, and by the point where the wind had stopped humming, Mido was playing the fiddle in Makar's place. He gave Link a cocky grin, and bowed at the end of the song, and then swiftly shrunk and reverted back to Makar.

Link shook his head rapidly to clear it, staring at the little korok.

"Ooh! Swordsman! I know what my destiny is now! I am the Sage of the Wind Temple! Please, take me there, so that I can return the power to repel evil to the Master Sword!"

Did everyone know that phrase? It sounded strange, coming from the little korok, but Link shrugged.

"Sure," he said, shoving the ten-or-so unimportant questions he wanted answered to the back of his mind to be thought about later. Judging by Tingle's chart, he'd have plenty of time whilst hunting down charts to ponder these things. "The King of Red Lions is waiting outside."

It might or might not be telling that Makar didn't ask who that was, jumping from one leg to another with those high-pitched squeals.

He followed Link out into the water, down the falls, down the cliffs, and climbed into the boat without needing to be asked.

Link still had the Wind Waker clutched in his fist. It was the work of seconds to change the direction of Zephos's localised blast of wind, and set sail for Gale Island.

They left at dusk and arrived at dawn, which was probably symbolic somehow, although how eluded him. The King of Red Lions gave a long speech—instructions for him and Makar similar to those he had given to Medli when Link had brought her to the Earth Temple. Did he expect Link to have forgotten, this soon?

He paid the boat little heed, but listened politely nonetheless, barely refraining from tapping his feet, as if that would incline the king to haste. He stood there with folded arms, while Makar, somehow without bow or fiddle, waved his arms in a gesture that might have meant anything. At last, they turned towards the cave mouth, and Link led the way toward the Wind Temple. He climbed onto the dais, leading the way to the entrance of the cave.

Inside the cave, Link wasted no time in mounting the steps, to stand before the monument blocking passage into the Wind Temple. He nodded to Makar, and a fiddle and bow appeared in the korok's stubby hands. The korok gave a grave nod in reply. Link withdrew the Wind Waker, to guide Makar through the notes. Makar played an abbreviated version of the "Wind God's Aria", and didn't transform into Mido, which was just as well, even though Link had half-hoped to be able to analyse the process again.

White light spread cracks through the stele, which exploded, shattering into dust, which vanished even as it flew through the room. Makar rushed through the revealed door and down into the pit without waiting for Link, who followed at a run, despite his fear that he might crush the korok.

The yellow light set him down gently, and Link scolded Makar for running ahead as he looked about the entrance hall in which they found themselves. Before him stood an odd pedestal with a spring coiled around the base. Immediately beyond it was a ledge leading down into a chamber.

His view of most of the room was barred by high, thick stone walls of yellow brick. Each individual brick was, if Link could estimate, at least twice as tall as he, as wide as it was tall, and at least thrice as long. These were some huge bricks, and Link had to wonder who had built these temples—or did they build themselves?

If they could rearrange themselves, and had a sort of awareness, was that something that developed over time, and someone had once laid those bricks, side by side, and before that, there had been blueprints, obsolete designs for how the temple would look? Was that what dungeon maps were?

Makar wobbled off the cliff, and Link followed him with a sigh. Below, the bricks were more covered by moss and weeds than the bricks above. There was something of a carpet of grass underfoot, which cushioned his fall. There was no visible way back up, and Makar would never be able to carry Link, the way that Medli had.

He frowned at Makar's recklessness, and then glowered when he heard the telltale little tune that announced the arrival of a wizzrobe. He looked up at the ledge, as it was the most inaccessible place he knew of, from here, and was unsurprised to see a wizzrobe there. Meanwhile, he removed his messenger bag, and notched an arrow, monitoring Makar out of the corner of his eyes.

He shot the wizzrobe once, and it disappeared. He could feel a gentle breeze blowing his hat and clothes around, and turned around to see a visible helix of air coming from an unknown source up above, spiraling down to the ground. There was a ledge on the far side of the room from the entry, but between the walls and the column of wind, he could never have made it there, anyway. Perhaps, Makar had sensed this when he had jumped into this lower chamber.

The wizzrobe returned, with the little tune that warned Link of its arrival. He notched another arrow, and fired while the wizzrobe was spinning in a circle. This time, the arrow struck whatever passed for vital organs, and the wizzrobe disappeared into a puff of black smoke. Meanwhile, Makar had awakened a stalfos lurking under the ground up ahead, and it spun around and around in circles, swinging its spiked club around as it headed for Makar.

Shaking his head, Link ran to intercept it, bow temporarily forgotten on the ground behind him as he drew sword and mirror shield, holding the latter up in the hopes that it could block the blow. Right after the shield absorbed the impact, Link began to hack away under the mace with the Master Sword, trying to disconnect the head from the body. Thence, he had only to chip away at the skull, breaking through the tough bone to release whatever consciousness remained there.

When he had done that (it did get slightly easier with practice), he turned to Makar, arms akimbo, glower firmly in place.

The korok hung his head, and began to make whimpering noises.

"Aiee! I am so sorry, swordsman! I got ahead of myself, eager to get to the Temple to offer my prayers! I was not expecting a monster to come out of the ground and attack me! Forgive me! I will show what help I am by planting some trees in those patches of soft soil."

Link, baffled as to how this could possibly help or atone for anything that the korok had done thus far, considered telling him not to bother, and that they needed to continue, and what good was planting trees in a dark hole in the ground that let in no sunlight?, but he had to admit that he was curious about it, and he could ponder what might need to be done to reach the cliff up above. If Makar did successfully grow a couple of trees, could he climb them and use the Deku Leaf to sail to the ledge?

It turned out that the patches of soft soil were those mounds of dirt on the floor. Makar dug a little hole, and threw a seed from parts unknown into it, and then covered it up. He stepped back, and a second later, a tree wider than Link was tall shot into the air. There were branches on it, alright, but they were so high up, and the bark so smooth, that Link knew that he could never climb this tree.

As he studied it, Makar found a second pile of soft soil, and threw a seed into a hole he dug in it, and a second tree shot into the air. There were now two trees, one on each side of the gap on the entrance side of the room, which had the mysterious switch-like object with the coiled spring. Speaking of which, there was another on the ground nearby.

And, wait a minute… had the wind coming from above just stopped?

No. This was ridiculous. The world had lost any and all sense of logic. This had to be a dream, because only in a dream could planting two (instantly sprouting!) trees stop a column of wind that was blowing from somewhere high up in the distant ceiling. There was no logic to this at all. The inexplicable patches of sunlight deep underground had taxed his credulity to its very limits, the moving patch of sunlight had been deliberately ignored, but this? This was impossible.

And, it wasn't even just impossible—it made no sense. How could planting a couple of seeds, and them growing into trees affect the stone high above that was creating the wind, at all, let alone stop it? Perhaps, if the trees hadn't been so smooth, and almost completely devoid of branches, you might have made the argument that the branches had wormed their way into cracks in the rock, and broken it apart (but then, where the rubble?), but as it was, Link could clearly see (thanks to Aryll's telescope), that none of the branches came anywhere near either distant ceiling or the walls.

He folded his arms, turning back and forth from the sudden tall trees to the empty air where a column of wind had blown down on him as he had moved to intercept the stalfos. This called for a new strategy: plant those seeds everywhere that Makar saw a patch of soft soil, and hope that none of them caused the temple to cave in, or the seas to boil, or some other such ridiculous thing. Because, at least for the moment, the world was behaving illogically in his favour. Might as well exploit that. Had Makar known—?

Damn this predecessor passed-on memory. It would be nice to enter a temple (with a companion) for once knowing what his companion's abilities were.

In a daze, he pulled out the communication stone, wrapping it around his fingers in his trusty knot.

"Zelda?" he asked, and he must have sounded bad, because Zelda's voice was fraught with concern when she responded.

"I'm here, Link. What's wrong?"

But, how to explain to her what had just happened? He turned back to look at the trees, brow furrowed. Makar was still standing there, and his expression was probably smug, but those leafy masks made it even harder to tell what a korok was feeling.

"Makar just stopped a windblower that was somehow blocking our way, set up high into the ceiling," he said, craning his head to look up above, where the windmaker somewhere was.

"That's great!" Zelda said, in far too excited of a voice. "How is that a problem?"

Link sighed, and turned back to those trees. "See that little creature at the base of that tree? That's Makar, my companion here in the Wind Temple. See those trees? They weren't there a minute ago. And somehow, Makar planting them caused the wind to stop."

He pulled out the telescope again, to show Zelda that there was no way that this was possible.

"What happened to the world, Zelda? How am I supposed to solve the puzzles in this Temple when merely planting seeds in soft soil can, apparently, accomplish anything at all? Where is the logic to this world, Zelda?"

"Well… logic can't do everything. I mean, it's not really logical that I would be a princess, is it? Or that the goddesses would protect the world by flooding it? Or that there even are little…tree…things with leaves on their faces. It's alright, Link. This isn't any worse than patches of sunlight buried deep underground. Just try not to think about it too hard. Does it matter why it worked, if it worked?"

"And how will I know when I'll need Makar's abilities?" he asked, as the aforementioned korok waddled over, chortling in a way that made Link suspect he was quite pleased with himself.

"You look for a patch of soft soil, and a puzzle that you can't solve otherwise," she said, firmly. Her voice was so authoritative that Link was able to set aside the absurdity of recent events. She was right. He was wasting time analysing the impossible, when what he needed to do was to restore the power of the Master Sword, and then hunt down the charts leading to the Triforce.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Zelda. I'll get you out of there, soon, I promise. Although, there is a bit of a complication…."

He noticed that there was a treasure chest—dark wood, painted a dark blue—sitting off to one side of the chamber. When he opened it, he was unsurprised to find the dungeon map.

He backtracked to the odd spring, picking up the bow as he did, and returning it to his messenger bag, staring at it, and thinking, even as he filled Zelda in on the King of Red Lions's extended plan. He climbed onto the switch, in case it was an odd step-on switch, and it wobbled slightly. But, his weight seemed to be insufficient to press it down….

Hmm. He pulled out the iron boots, removed the boots of the hero's costume, and stuffed them into his bag. The moment that the iron boots were in his hands, the switch sank down into itself. When he set them back into the messenger bag to pull out the hammer, determined to find something to do with the switch, he found himself being launched into the air, as if out of a boko bud. He withdrew the Deku Leaf, instead, kept a tight hold of his messenger bag, and was able to control his flight well enough to return to his original ledge. Now that he knew how to use the not-switches, it should be easy to reach the far side of the room.

He was wearing only his grandmother's knitted socks on his feet, but there weren't any sharp rocks littering the temple floor. He'd probably end up just walking through this temple barefoot. If there were two such switches, he would find others. It would be worth whatever cuts and bruises he obtained. After all, if he kept having to take off the boots he had on or replace them with the iron boots—what if he were attacked, or needed to switch shoes in a hurry? The boots only seemed to weigh him down when he was about to wear them. If he were already wearing boots, he was sure that it wouldn't work.

He stepped onto the switch, and pulled out the iron boots to press it into itself. Then, the Deku Leaf. He set the iron boots down in front of him, and removed the bow. He tied the messenger bag around an arrow, and, somehow, was able to shoot the bag across the gap. He took careful aim, and flung the iron boots across the ledge after his bag, now holding onto the Deku Leaf with both hands. He'd had to drop the bow again. As he sailed across the ledge, he called out a request that Makar bring it across, because he knew that the koroks could fly, and Makar routinely carried a bow that was longer than he was tall. He must be used to doing such things.

He landed heavily on his feet, picked up his arrow, with its broken arrowhead, and untied his messenger bag from around it, then returned the iron boots to the bag.

Makar appeared seconds later, and Link returned the bow to his bag, hoping that he wouldn't have to do something similar again. Lucky that this far ledge had been close.

The door in front of him was identical to the ones in the Earth Temple, save for the fact that this door was blue. Why blue? Who cared? At this point, Link would be content to make it to Molgerra with his sanity intact.

He beckoned to Makar with a resigned sigh, and moved to the door.

"Open," he told it, arms akimbo as he stood before it, and walked through first. Makar hastened to follow.

Link scowled at the series of platforms, each with mounds of soft soil, leading up to a ledge located at a right angle to the door through which he had entered. He had no idea what planting trees here could do, but clearly it was the only means of progressing. Judging by Zelda's giggle, she had discovered this too. On the plus side, there was an unlocked, unbarred door on the same ledge as him. He could always postpone the inevitable, and go through that door first.

He sighed. Who knew what sort of important function the patches of soft soil served in this room? Judging by the bubbles flying across the pit surrounding the aerial islands, he was supposed to somehow use them to cross the gap. But if so, how? His grappling hook wasn't long enough to reach the tall branches of the trees grown from those seeds.

Oh, well. "Makar, could you plant some more trees?" He tried to keep his voice polite, but, judging by Zelda's giggles, he wasn't quite successful. Oh, well.

Makar squealed, and a Deku Leaf appeared, sprouting from his back, its stem somehow connected to his back. He flew over to the lowest platform first, digging a hole in the soil, and throwing in a seed, covering it back up with soil, and then standing back as the tree reached for the sky. Then, he moved to the next ledge, and did the same thing.

That was when the wallmaster appeared, and, before Link could pull out his bow and shoot it, it dragged a squealing Makar into the ground. The wallmaster reappeared, waving at Link. Makar did not.

Well, now he'd done it. He'd lost Makar. But—hadn't the King said that the compass would show him where his companion was? He'd just have to hope that that was true. He wasn't giving up quite yet!

"Link! Link, what now?!" asked Zelda, her anxiety flooding into Link via their psychic connection. He ground his teeth together, and glared at the only other door in the room.

"Now," he said, "I'm going into this other room. And, I am going to find the compass, and it will show me where Makar is, and I will rescue him."

"But, what if—" Zelda began.

"I will rescue him," Link repeated, in a tone that brooked no argument, and Zelda sighed.

"You couldn't have done anything, you know. Even if you'd had the bow, shooting while it was so close to Makar—there was too much danger of hitting him. And, you couldn't have known the trap that would spring when Makar planted that tree."

"Yes, those trees do all sorts of things, good and bad, apparently," said Link, knowing how incomprehensible this conversation was, taken out of context. The world must be collapsing in upon itself. Wasn't it bad enough that Medli, the bird-woman, was the Sage of the Earth Temple, while the living tree was the Sage of the Wind Temple, without adding in subterranean sunbeams and omnipotent seeds?

"Well, then. Let's go through that door, and hope for the best," Zelda said, and Link gave a curt nod. He knew that he was being a bit unreasonable, but was past caring.

The next room had a checkerboard patterned wall halfway through the gap between two ledges, blocking the other ledge from sight. Mobile spikes ran on their own in horizontal lines at the edge of each ledge. Closer to where he stood were a series of cracked floors, ringed by metal frames, as if those frames could prevent the cracks from spreading. Why would there be cracks and supports, unless some sort of open area lay beneath?

He reached into his bag, and pulled out the hammer. He approached the cracked floor.

Then, he paused. From here, he could hear a noise that sounded like that made by the vortices in which wallmasters hid. You had to be very close to them to hear them, which was why he'd had no forewarning about the wallmaster in the previous room.

"Link, that noise!" Zelda said.

"I know," he replied, standing to the side of the left-most crack. This close, the cracks looked artificial. What was their purpose, then?

He swung the hammer, and the floor shattered. He could see that there was a huge alcove beneath his feet, and that two wallmasters patrolled it. There was also what looked to be a brazen version of the Forbidden Woods's platform spinners. He peered again at the odd checkerboard. He couldn't reach the spinner from here. He'd have to watch the wallmasters carefully, and jump down.

As soon as his feet touched the floor, he reached into his messenger bag to pull out the boomerang. He cautiously approached the nearest wallmaster, and, the moment it emerged from its protective hole, he flung the boomerang at it, then drew the Master Sword and leapt at it, hacking mercilessly until he cut off the hand, whereupon the hole closed up, in a puff of black smoke. One down.

He was able to repeat his success on the other wallmaster. Now, he could turn his attention to the spinner. The memory of his experience of the Forbidden Woods was very faint—as if it had happened years ago, or to someone else, and he had only heard the story. He knew what to do, however.

He pulled out the Deku Leaf, thinking that it made sense (what a mercy!) for a Wind Temple to have wind-activated switches. The gust of the wind caused a hidden rod to turn, rotating the checkerboard platform ninety degrees, so that it now covered the gap between the ledges. He could see what lay past that barrier, now.

On the other side of the room was another of those springy non-switches, this one supported on a block. Another, springless, block stood nearby. A shadow on the floor hinted at a possible destination for it. He ran over to the other side of the room, keeping on the lookout for monsters. There were none.

He jumped onto the platform, and pulled out the iron boots. He flung them up, through a hole in the ceiling, and the spring sent him flying into the air. He landed on the other side of the checkerboard. Nearby was another framed cracked floor. He picked up the iron boots, and returned them to his bag, pulling out the hammer as he did.

When he broke through the floor, bars lifted on a door he hadn't seen yet, set as it was into the right-hand wall, at a landing at the top of a set of stairs before him. He heard the bars retract, and that called his attention to the door. He pulled out the dungeon map, and saw that there was, indeed, a huge room beyond. He tried not to figure out how cracked floors could secretly be switches.

"At the risk of sounding like you," Zelda said, "How did breaking the floor there cause… whatever just happened… to happen?"

"It must be just a coincidence," he said. Denial was the only way to deal with this temple. "As for what happened, the iron bars blocking off the door at the far side of this corridor rose. Now, I can go to the next room. But, I want to try something first."

He walked over to the side of the room he had started from, and pulled out the hammer, whacking through the next cracked floor to the right of the first. A treasure chest appeared on the far side of the room—a blue one, which probably meant the compass. Yes!

He opened the treasure chest, and then pulled out the dungeon map once again, to fit the compass into its slot. Now all the treasure chests of the dungeon appeared, as well as the boss's lair, and a strange purple spot, located in the next room.

Makar was in the next room? Or did the purple spot signify something else? How would he know?

Zelda lumbered along in the wake of his train of thought. "Do you suppose that that purple mark is where Makar is? But, that's in the next room, isn't it?"

"Open," Link snapped at the door. It obligingly lifted up into the ceiling, but slammed down more swiftly than previous doors had once Link was on the far side. Great. A dungeon with an attitude.

But, when Link turned back away from glaring at the door, he felt his breath catch. There was something awesome about this room. There was vast open space filled with nothing but air (and the occasional peahat milling about). The ceiling was still invisible, high above, and deep, deep down, he could see a series of ledges winding down towards a distant bottom. Grass grew beneath his feet (don't wonder how, he told himself), and he could see a few statues of heads with circles painted on their foreheads scattered throughout the room. It was oddly picturesque.

Facing him was a lower ledge, with two columns on either side, but two bomboi clearly visible behind them, flanking a door. Zelda gasped, possibly still taking in the view. Perhaps, she appreciated the aesthetics of the thing. He shrugged. He didn't see Makar, but according to the compass—assuming that it showed Makar's specific location—he was on a ledge somewhere to the left. Also, this room had two floors: 1F, and 1B.

He pulled out the Deku Leaf, put away the map, and glided across the room, as Zelda squealed and giggled.

"That never gets old! This is so fun, and I'm not even flying!" she cried. Link grinned in return, some of his good humour back, until, halfway across, Makar called out from his left.

"Swordsman! Over here!" He had time to catch a glimpse of Makar behind a chain link fence blocked by one of those statue heads with the circles on their foreheads, before he had to swerve to avoid a peahat.

"I'll find a way over there, Makar! Don't worry!"

"I've tried to push against it, but this statue won't give at all! I think you'd have to become as heavy as the Great Deku Tree himself to move it."

Not if you have iron boots, Link thought to himself. But, how would weighing more help him to move that statue head? He was missing something.

He landed on the far ledge, and stuffed the Deku Leaf into his sock. It wouldn't stay. He frowned, and pulled out the messenger bag, withdrawing the bombs while he was at it.

Although there was a limited space to avoid the bomboi as they whirled about in their death throes, the two were nevertheless more easily dispatched than the peahat that had followed him to the far side. He ignored it, heading for the door instead.

On the far side, he found himself on yet another ledge (these were, understandably, everywhere in the Wind Temple), over a snaking corridor, with intermittent platforms, and chain link fences with gaps and platforms—or rather, open doors that served as platforms. Clearly, he needed the Deku Leaf. He looked around, and narrowed his eyes when he saw no peahats nor other obvious foes. Then, a little tune announced the appearance of a wizzrobe, far off. Yes, too good to be true.

He pulled out the bow, instead of the Deku Leaf, when he withdrew his messenger bag. He dropped the messenger bag onto the ground next to him, to reach it the more easily when the wizzrobe was gone. He took careful aim, as the wizzrobe spun in a circle, far off on one of the ledges further into the room. This one would be hard to hit, it was so far off.

He fired once, and the wizzrobe gave a shriek, and vanished into a puff of black smoke. Alright!

He waited for a few moments, to give any other wizzrobes hiding a chance to appear, but either there were no others or, more likely, they patrolled a stretch too distant for him to hear that little melody as they appeared.

He shrugged, put away the bow, and pulled out the Deku Leaf. He glided over to the chain link fence platform that lay just before a fork in the paths. The shorter path continued on in the same direction he had been heading, and the longer one turned abruptly, about a hundred twenty degrees to the right. The angle made it difficult to see what might await further in

He was reaching into his messenger bag for the dungeon map, when he heard the telltale melody of a wizzrobe. He retrieved the bow instead, dropped the bag onto the wire carpeting, and scanned the room for any wizzrobes.

There! There was one in the path straight ahead. He aimed, shot, hit it, dispersing it into a ball of black smoke, and rolled in time to avoid the fireball that almost hit him, coming from behind as it was.

He whirled around, already notching an arrow, to shoot the second wizzrobe, but it had already gone. The metal behind him hissed, and he suspected that the area behind him was red-hot, and unsafe for him to walk on, even had he been wearing boots. He turned sideways, to keep both the path forwards, and the one behind, in his view, as best he could. He tried to peer over the edge and across to the ledges farther in.

The wizzrobe reappeared where the previous one had first appeared, and Link turned before it could begin to spin in its circle, aiming for the same area as he had before. He hit, this time, too. It disappeared in a puff of black smoke, but he heard the telltale little melody that signalled another one.

He looked to the left. Nothing. He looked to the right. Nothing. It was outside of his range of vision, and therefore he was, hopefully, outside of its range of attack. He reached for the mirror shield unconsciously, thinking that it might have absorbed some of the heat of the fireball that had just missed frying him, and waited.

He heard the melody again a short while later, and something appeared in his peripheral vision, to the left. He spun to face the entrance, notching an arrow and drawing. The entrance ledge was much closer than the ledges further in. It was a clearer shot, for which Link was somewhat thankful. It would, of course, be preferable if there weren't any wizzrobes at all.

And, the wizzrobes weren't the only monsters in the room. Now that he looked, he could see peahats milling about, further in. Well, as long as they didn't come this way, he might as well take out the map (at last!) and take a look.

According to said map, the right-hand path curled back around to enter the room in which Makar was held prisoner, this from the eastern side. He had entered from the south, originally, which meant that Makar was on the western side of the chamber. That was where the purple spot was, at least. He didn't remember anything very important-looking on that side of the room. Also, there was only one room to the path that lay before him. That sounded promising.

He stuffed the dungeon map back into his messenger bag, and pulled the Deku Leaf back out.

"Link, what about those spinning things, further in?" Zelda asked. She'd been so quiet that he'd almost forgotten that she was there. She must have realised how much concentration he need to dispatch the wizzrobes, and to fly across these gaps without being ambushed.

He frowned at the spinning monsters, calculating his chances of hitting one of them from this distance with the bow. He didn't have enough arrows in his quiver to risk it. If he came closer, he might be able to use the boomerang.

"Too far away," he replied. "Which path do you think I should take—straight ahead, or to the right?"

There was silence, as Zelda weighed the two options. "You always seem to choose the path with the fewest rooms to try first. Besides, the right-hand path leads back to that room with Makar in it, doesn't it? It seems to be an alternate route to the main chamber of the temple."

He nodded. "You have been paying attention. I suppose you have nothing more to learn. You're ready for your own adventure!"

She laughed in reply, but the laughter cut of abruptly as Link lifted the Deku Leaf. "Link, be careful!"

He wished that he knew how she sent feelings down the psychic connection. He'd give her reassurance, and strength. It must be difficult, watching him do these dangerous things, and, judging by her reaction down in Hyrule Castle, blaming herself for every near miss and hit as she did.

He looked down at where the spikes had impaled his leg in Jalhalla's chamber, but the blood must have washed out, because there was no trace of bloodstains. That was a relief. He didn't want to disappoint his grandmother.

He sailed across to the ledge that lay straight ahead, cautious, twisting to avoid the peahats that sailed by. At last, he stood on the lower ledge, and turned to the left to look at the other path. There was no discernible way to get there, and he hoped that he had chosen the right way, but it must somehow be possible to get up there. Distance had distorted how high the ledge had looked, when he stood in the middle of the room. Now he wondered if he could have even crossed over from that platform. At least there was solid ground, and not that far away, although even from here he could see the vortices of wallmasters, as they moved about down below. Well, he'd just have to hope that he found something useful in this next room.

The next room was, of course, a miniboss's lair. His first (and only) warning, was when the iron bars slammed down behind him. He heard Zelda's sharp intake of breath, and a figure appeared on one of three raised platforms high overhead. There were several such platforms, located much higher up, which he sincerely hoped it wouldn't use, because an ordinary wizzrobe was bad enough. This one wore a gold headdress shaped into an arch, and bright orange robes. It made him think that it might have been some sort of wizzrobe leader.

He took out the bow, shot at it, hit, but it disappeared, and a darknut appeared on the floor with him. What. Oh, come on!

In addition to the darknut, there was another, more ordinary wizzrobe, as if for comparison.

This wizzrobe was in the lower part of the room, with him, for now, and thus he focused on it, keeping an eye on the darknut to make sure that it didn't attack him while his attention was focused elsewhere. With a quick slash of the Master Sword, the wizzrobe dispersed into smoke. He turned to the darknut, using a well-timed parry attack to get behind it and cut the straps off its helm and armour, before dispatching it in a vicious flurry of strikes.

He heard a telltale teleportation noise, and spun around in a circle, himself, looking for the wizzrobe king up above. He retrieved the bow from his messenger bag, aimed, fired, and it disappeared in a whirl of smoke, but no new monsters appeared. That was something.

He tensed, waiting for its reappearance, and trying to ignore the urge to spin around and around in circles, lest the little melody forsake him, or arrive too late for sufficient warning. He'd never seen a wizzrobe that could call other enemies before, let alone other wizzrobes. It was more than slightly troubling.

Zelda was very, very silent, and he hoped that she was remembering to breathe.

He notched another arrow, and listened. A few seconds later, the sight of the wizzrobe coinciding with the little melody that always seemed to accompany their teleportations, had him raising his bow and shooting before he properly realised that it had reappeared.

It disappeared again, in a puff of smoke. He was beginning to trust that, as long as he hit the wizzrobe king in time, it wouldn't be able to summon any monsters, or fireballs. That was good to know. He notched another arrow as he waited.

He heard the melody, but didn't see the wizzrobe. Zelda didn't say anything, and she seemed to have a good sense of what lay even in his peripheral vision, so he whirled around, assuming that the wizzrobe king was behind him. It was. He barely had time to draw and shoot, but he made it in time, and the wizzrobe king vanished once more.

He waited, breathing so carefully controlled and shallow that it made him almost light-headed, until the melody announced that the wizzrobe had returned. He spun around in a circle, and noticed it on the ground below him. It volleyed three fireballs at him just as he shot it with the bow.

At last, it collapsed in upon itself in a puff of black smoke. The fireballs rushed towards him, and he held the mirror shield out, trusting, for some reason, that it would be able to absorb the attack, when he hadn't tried this in his battle against Jalhalla.

He staggered back under the momentum (and heat) of the single fireball that hit, and when it had gone, he had an unobstructed view of the centre of the room, where stood another of the blue big treasure chests. He listened, hard, for the warning of any more monsters, and then reached down to the chest, twisting the clasp and popping open the lid. He reached in and pulled out what was perhaps the oddest contraption he had ever seen.

It had a blue handle, and something like a blue shaft, which attached to a chain, with something that might be a hook or an arrowhead at the end. A name came to him: "hookshot". Was that what this was?

"Link, what is that?" Zelda asked, as if on cue.

"I think it's called the hookshot," he said, staring at it, as if whatever the origin was of his knowledge would confirm this to him.

"Alright," said Zelda, and if he could judge, that hadn't been her actual question that he had answered. "What does it do?"

"It lets you pull some things close to you from far away. Also, it can latch onto some things, and pull you towards them. I don't quite know how it works, though." Link gave himself a moment to wonder where all that information he had just relayed to Zelda came from. It was probably reliable enough. Vision material?

"I'll believe it when I see it," said Zelda. He could just see her cross her arms, eyebrows raised. The incredulity was that evident from her tone alone.

Challenge accepted. Time to see how much he trusted this knowledge he shouldn't possess. And hope that the goddesses were looking out for him. Not anything too dangerous, but—

He sighted the hookshot the way he would the bow, aiming toward the concentric circles on a statue head above one of the wizzrobe king's lower platforms. Suddenly, those looked less decorative, and more like targets. Amazing what having the right item did for your perception of a thing. He was sure that this would work. Even though the target was embedded in a statue, of heavy, solid stone.

Oh well. His thumb automatically rested on a grooved disc. He rotated the disc away from him with his thumb, and the chain shot out. He held it there with his thumb as the chain shot out, and let go once the hook attached to the circle. The hookshot carried him up to the statue head, disengaged from it, and he fell to the platform beneath it.

"Alright, alright. That is kind of neat," Zelda conceded. "How do you know how to use it, anyway?"

Link shrugged, looking down, and shifting his weight from foot to foot. He'd hoped that that question wouldn't come up. He didn't have a good answer.

"Don't know. Same way I knew how to use a bow without ever touching one before, I guess."

Zelda obviously realised that this was troubling him, because she asked him about all sorts of unimportant things as he climbed the room using the hookshot, encountering the occasional bokoblin (whoa. They seemed so very unimportant and non-threatening, now!) hiding in a jar.

"Say, Zelda, you're a pirate. Do you know of any way to earn the funds it will take to pay Tingle to decipher those maps?" The question had been stewing at the back of his mind for some time. He'd only not had the opening to ask it. He suspected that she wouldn't reveal the knowledge she had of any major treasures, and that she understood his own limits (to the extent that she was willing to do things that he wasn't).

"Er—well, some of the monsters—especially the moblins, have treasures hidden on their persons. For example, I've heard that the skull necklaces that those moblins wear are very valuable, if you show them to the right person. There are also rings of light, that sometimes appear as you pass by them on the sea. If you have something that can draw items up from the sea floor, I've heard that they often contain money.

"Of course, if you don't have anything that can dredge things up from the sea-floor, that's rather a big problem, if any of those charts that Tingle deciphers show you something underwater—which, let's face it, they all do. I mean, the Triforce of Courage hasn't been seen since the Hero of Time's day, now has it?"

Link stared at his wallet. If Zelda recognised it, she said nothing. He considered the question. "I know less about this than you, I think. Supposedly, the Hero of Time vanished. Perhaps, when he died, the Triforce he bore split into pieces."

"I suppose we'll never know for sure. It must be in pieces, if there are multiple maps leading to its location. Will you stop looking over that ledge like that!?"

Link drew back from the high ledge. By now, he was at the highest ones, which commanded quite a view of the room. The door by which he had entered looked much smaller from here. He'd probably be gravely injured, or worse, from such a fall. Red potion would little avail him if he died.

He heeded her advice, and looked about the room for a safe path down. He still had to test whether or not the hookshot and the iron boots, working together, could topple a statue head. Given what Makar had said about weighing as much as the Deku Tree, he supposed that it would.

"Thanks, Tetra," he said. "I do appreciate the advice. I'd rather not pay Tingle at all, if I could."

"'Not pay him'?" she repeated, but she sounded insufferably amused. "You mean, short-change him? You seemed a decent sort of person!"

"Yes, I do like to think that I'm decent," Link said, hopping down to a lower platform as Zelda groaned. Did she have some sort of fear of heights? No, that couldn't be it, could it? "That's why I'd rather not pay the upkeep of a kidnapper extortionist."

He could feel Zelda's eyes widen, so she must be feeling rather strongly about this, for whatever reason. "'Kidnapper extortionist'?" she repeated, again.

Link explained about the poor shipwrecked Davey Junior, in bondage, seeking to earn enough to repay Tingle's "hospitality". He was also, apparently, desiring to look for his father. "He was in prison, too, before I accidentally released him," he said. "Apparently, he stole the prize pictobox of a man named Lenzo. I've heard he also runs some smuggling businesses—that he's the person to go to for certain rare items. I don't know if they're fraudulent or not, but I doubt that he'll cheat me. I suppose I should be thankful for that fact."

"How do you accidentally release someone from prison?" Zelda asked, disbelief and raised eyebrows clear from her tone.

Link set about telling her the tale of his first trip to Windfall, soon after their parting, now he thought about it, as he hopped from ledge to ledge. He reached for the iron boots at the bottom, pulling them on, for once, and then aiming the hookshot at one of the targets set into the stone foreheads. The statue fell from the wall, breaking when it hit the platform beneath it. Link nodded in approval, and then paused. The statue head he had to break was located on the ground. How was he going to break it?

Still, he pulled the iron boots back off, and stored them in the messenger bag, before removing the Deku Leaf, and gliding to a door above that by which he had entered, hidden from view by one of the platforms.

Now, back in the room of corridors and wizzrobes, he faced the perilous trek of flying to the ledge to his left. The alcove in which he stood was well-hidden, on account of its small size, which made peahats overlook it, but also made it hard to aim for them. He'd just have to sail across and hope to avoid them. First, however, he needed to make sure that there were no more wizzrobes.

He waited for a few seconds before launching himself into the air, pulling out the Deku Leaf at the apex of his jump, and making the journey cautiously. He emerged unscathed, and pulled out the boomerang. He set about defeating the peahats one by one.

When the last peahat had disappeared in a ball of black smoke, he followed a winding path in a hook, until he came to another door.

He knew which door this was, opened it without a second thought, and walked through onto the eastern ledge of the room where Makar was being held prisoner. This ledge was, if boring, high enough up that he could glide across to the western ledge, where Makar waited.

The Deku Leaf was still in his hands, so he easily sailed across to the western chamber. Makar jumped from foot to foot, in what seemed a happy, excited dance. Who really knew with koroks, though?

Link glanced around for enemies, saw none nearby, not even peahats, and sat down to put on the iron boots, replacing the Deku Leaf in his bag, and pulling out the hookshot instead. He judged the angle at which the stone head would fall, and moved back to give it a wide berth, before aiming the hookshot for the target circle on its forehead.

At last, he managed to break the statue head. The weight drew it with great speed and force to the ground, where it shattered into rubble, which then proceeded to evaporate, leaving a dancing Makar behind the hole in the now open chain link fence.

"Swordsman! You came!" the korok chittered, as Zelda scoffed.

Link pulled out the dungeon map, frowning at Makar. The door he and Makar had tried to access had been the door to the antechamber to the Boss's lair. They wouldn't have been able to enter anyway. This all seemed rather pointless. But, Link continued to analyse the map, waving a hand at Makar, which the korok seemed to take as a cue to run over and fly up to look at the map over his shoulder. Well, if two heads were better than one, perhaps three were better than two. Perhaps.

"That door down there—is that the next stop? I would prefer to avoid the room with the giant skull."

Link glanced at the skull marked onto the room beyond the room they had tried to access. That symbol was rather common; all dungeon maps seemed to have it. This was probably Makar's first time in a dungeon, other than when he had been eaten by Kalle Demos. Link felt a twinge of conscience towards his behaviour to the korok. He'd been a bit rude to Makar, hadn't he?

"Are you alright, Makar?" he asked, reaching out to lay a hand on the forest being's pointy head. "I forgot that the last time you were in a dungeon, you got eaten by the boss. But, I'll do for you what I did for Medli. I'll leave you outside the boss's lair until it's gone. That way you'll be saf-er. I suppose nothing in a temple is ever truly safe. But, at least you won't be killed by Molgerra."

Makar shivered, as if the name of Molgerra meant something to him, and Link studied the violently-shaking korok. "I'm sorry, Makar. It was my fault that you got captured. I took a stupid risk, and see where it got us! We'll go down below, there—together. And, you won't have to enter the room with the skull on it until the boss is defeated. I'll give you some sort of sign."

The korok gave a considering twitter, but said nothing.

"I am unharmed," Makar announced, finally, as Link was peering down below for a ledge near enough to leap to without using the Deku Leaf. He had pulled off the iron boots already, but now he had to reach into his bag again to pull out the Deku Leaf. "The monster merely picked me up, disappeared, and reappeared here. I don't think it even really traveled, somehow. It just shoved me in here, somehow. I was beginning to fear that I would never escape, when you appeared."

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: Don't Steal Them!

Link nodded to Makar, beckoned for him to follow, and leapt down to the next lowest ledge. It was quite the drop. He pulled out the Deku Leaf, holding it high in the air to try to break his fall, somewhat.

Makar followed after him, his Deku Leaf umbrella spinning so fast that it was a blur.

Together, they slowly made their way back down, Zelda staying alert and warning of peahats as they became threats. After that first ledge, he didn't need the Deku Leaf to slow his descent. He returned it to the messenger bag, and pulled out the boomerang instead. In this way, the three of them slowly made their ways down to the floor of the room.

Nearby, on this bottom storey, was an alcove with two patches of soft soil, on either side of a step-on switch. Link stepped on the switch, and the floor, which had previously looked to be an iron grate, now revealed itself to be made of six panels, three of which moved to overlap the other three, revealing a sort of chamber below.

Down below, stationary blades hinted at the presence of a windmaker. If Link was right, this was a fan, that would make it possible to return even to the highest ledge of the tower (they hadn't been there before).

For now, however, it was stationary. Link walked over, toward the two piles of soft soil flanking the step-on switch.

"Swordsman! There's a switch down here!" Makar yelled. Judging by the phrase "down here", he was close by, in the space below the spinning blades of the fan, if such it was.

"Step on it, then, Makar!" Link called back, and Zelda gasped.

"Link!" she said. "Don't be so reckless!"

But, Link waited for Makar to step on the switch. The bars of a door to Link's right slid up. Makar flew back up, past the stilled fan blades, and rejoined Link at the alcove.

Without being prompted, he took a look at Link's expression, nodded, and waddled over to the first pile of soft soil, digging a hole, burying the seed, and stepping back, to allow the sapling to reach for the far-distant sky. He repeated the same for the second mound of soil, and the fan began to spin. Even from this safe alcove, the power of it was alarming. Eventually, it slowed, and then stopped. Link waited, assuming that the fan's use was not a single use deal.

A few minutes later, as Link was considering just running out and into the only other room on this floor, the fan started up again, blowing a strong vortex of wind upwards towards the ceiling.

He waited for it to subside again before approaching the door. Makar followed him, desperate not to be left behind, when wallmasters could be anywhere.

"It's alright, Makar," said Link, in his best reassuring voice. "The monsters won't hurt you if I'm nearby."

The korok gave a rather feeble sniffle, but followed him through the doors.

Inside the room, of course, were a couple of darknuts. This room was marked with a treasure chest on the map. Not only were there two darknuts, but there were platforms leading up, as in the room with the Wizzrobe King. Link motioned for Makar to stay back—Makar sensibly flew to a high platform—and ran to meet the darknuts. He kept remembering Zelda's advice, and wondered how much Knight's Crests were worth, if they were the keys to mastering certain secret abilities. He thought that he might want to keep them instead, lest one unworthy somehow discern the secret of the hurricane spin attack, merely by holding enough of these.

Nevertheless, as the battle continued, Link made sure to cut off the hands with knight's crests, leaving them be for the moment, and picking them up when the battle was over. Now, he could start climbing the room, up to where he was certain that the treasure chest was.

The treasure chest was at almost the very top of the room. It was yet another blue one. The boss key had red eyes set into it, much the same as the previous boss key.

Now, Link had to backtrack, using the hookshot to descend the way that he had climbed, and beckoning to Makar before returning to the room of the fan. Then, he used the hookshot to climb from ledge to ledge, until he was high enough up that he could take advantage of the updraft by leaping off and catching himself with the Leaf. From here, it was easy enough to return to the southern door, and the room from which Makar had been abducted.

Makar shuddered when he saw the room again, but was surprisingly ready to fly back across the pit to continue his tree-planting. Link withdrew the hookshot. Just because the branches were too high for the grappling hook to reach didn't mean that there was no way to cross the gap. He must be able to use the hookshot to cross via the trees. Otherwise, the dungeon would have provided him with a puzzle that couldn't be solved, and they didn't do that.

When he reached the second tree, he hastened to slash at the wallmaster lying in wait. Once he cut off its hand, he turned his attention to the red bubbles flying by overhead, in the path before him. He found that the hookshot also latched onto them, and drew them towards him, after extinguishing the flames surrounding them. Link thought he preferred using the bow. It was, at the very least, less work.

Makar flew across to the third ledge, and planted another tree. Link followed him, and Makar moved on to the fourth ledge. They continued thus until there were no more ledges; they had reached the far side. There were more wallmasters here, but distant enough that Link was able to use the hookshot to cross before Makar could be abducted again.

Beyond the wallmasters was a complicated puzzle involving pushing blocks so that he could tromp across a corridor lined with spikes, without getting hurt. He had to carry Makar, who was so light that the winds would readily blow him away.

On the far side of this room stood another stele. They were behind the windmakers, now, so Link set Makar down before the monument, and withdrew the Wind Waker. He nodded to Makar, and Makar nodded back, a bow and the leaf fiddle appearing in his hands.

Link guided Makar through the melody, and Makar played the abbreviated "Wind God's Aria". The stele shuddered, and cracks of light spread through it before it exploded, revealing a short tunnel, leading down. At the end of the tunnel was a door, with that familiar brass padlock covering it, preventing entry.

Link pulled out the key, inserted the key into the lock, and twisted, and as the padlock fell away, he turned back to Makar.

"Wait here. I'll pound on the door and call for you when all of this is done. Make sure it's safe before you enter."

Makar squealed, but nodded. "Good luck, swordsman!" he exclaimed, and Zelda echoed his words.

"Good luck, Link! I'll watch out for you! Keep your eyes open!"

He nodded, and turned to the door once more, ordering it to open.

On the other side of the door was a tall ledge overlooking a pit covered in sand—except for the sign of the Triforce, which was left uncovered. He wondered if Molgerra had gone already, or if it was instead lurking somewhere out of sight. He leapt down into the pit, trusting the sand to break his fall.

As he ran towards the design of the triforce, something burst from the sand in front of him—a great wyrm, sandy as the area around it, serving as camouflage. Sand displaced by its exit covered the symbol of the triforce.

It shot into the air, advertising its great size and dexterity to Link as it swam through the air, flying without wings. He caught sight of blue-green eyes, and gaping flexible jaws that flapped open and shut, before it dove headfirst into the ground, and disappeared. This must be Molgerra.

Link pulled out the hookshot, and ran. There would be little to no warning before Molgerra resurfaced.

Predictably, he heard it burst out of the sand behind him. He could tell that it was behind him because he couldn't see it, and Zelda made no report of it, but he could feel the sand beneath him begin to drastically heave.

He climbed out of the sudden sand pit, and turned back to face the jaws of the great wyrm, now wide open, exposing what looked to be an eye on the end of its tongue. Link grimaced, but readied the hookshot for the only part of the monster that it made sense to aim for—that eye.

The hookshot pulled the strange sphere towards him, and he saw to his relief that it wasn't an eye—what it was, however, remained an unimportant mystery. The jaws of Molgerra, now lying flat against the sand, and its lolling tongue, worked to draw the stalk and the non-eye away from Link.

He managed to hack at it a couple of times (it chipped, as glass will chip instead of shatter, when thick enough), and then Molgerra had withdrawn it back into its mouth, and sunk beneath the sand once more.

Hadn't he fought a similar boss before?

He set out across the room again, and again felt the ground heave beneath his feet as Molgerra once more emerged. Link spun around to face it, and raised the hookshot.

Once more, he managed only a few swipes, at the stalk, this time, which was thick and almost as tough as the brambles he'd had to shatter with the hammer, but too flexible, not brittle enough for Link to consider that a viable option. Then, the boss retracted the tongue.

Link wasted no time in setting off moving again, as Molgerra burst from the sand behind him, flying high overhead, out of reach, raining debris down on him. He dodged the falling pieces of temple rock, as Zelda shouted in alarm. Eventually, Molgerra dove back beneath the sand, and the game began anew.

He noticed that Molgerra always appeared behind him, meaning, perhaps, that if he often changed direction, it might emerge facing him. Molgerra was, as it seemed, not very bright, because this strategy worked on it.

It shot out of the ground Link had recently vacated, which was over his shoulder, to his left. He was aiming the hookshot even as it emerged. This time, he aimed for the tongue-stalk again, and was able to chip away enough at the tongue to cut off that strange blue orb. He leapt at it, putting all his weight into the blow, and shattered it with his sword, and Molgerra shot out of the ground once more, its tiny eyes glinting in a way that promised pain.

Link didn't know what other target he could aim for, now. He withdrew the bow, nonetheless. For shelter, he used the ledge containing the door through which he had entered. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. Meanwhile, he aimed the bow at the wyrm's eyes, and fired. It struck in the forehead, right between the eyes. The wyrm lashed out at nothing, twining around itself, chomping at its own tail, further enraging itself. It knocked against the walls of the temple, on the far side of the room, burying itself under rubble.

Link sighed, and waited. He waited for several minutes, in truth, before deciding to approach the mound that served as the dragon's tomb. He shot an ice arrow at the area, for good measure.

Slowly, the sand began to recede all around the chamber, revealing the sign of the triforce once more. The triangle in the centre glowed blue. Link took that as a sign that the dragon was well and truly dead. As did Zelda, apparently.

"That was amazing, Link! Triforce of Wisdom or no, I don't think I could have outwitted that dragon like that! I just wanted you to know that."

Link paused in his approach of the boss door, high above. How would he even reach it? He pulled out the hookshot, and looked for something to aim it at. There was a wooden beam sticking out, high overhead. Could the hookshot even reach that? Worth a try, he supposed.

"What's with your sudden enthusiasm? What have I done to earn so much respect from the unflappable pirate captain?"

She huffed, and he had the impression of crossed arms, and hands clenched into fists. She wanted to tell him off, he knew, but she restrained herself. Hmm….

He banged heavily on the door of the boss's room, reminding Makar as he did as to how to get it to open.

Makar waddled through the open door scant seconds later, peering around past Link to ensure nothing evil remained to threaten him. Link leapt down from the ledge, and Makar followed him. Link stood outside the symbol of the Triforce, and set the Master Sword, point down, in the blue light, before pulling out the Wind Waker.

He guided Makar one last time through the melody, and stopped to watch. When Makar reached the point beyond which the wind had always trailed off, he kept playing. Mido's ghostly figure appeared from within Makar's body, playing counterpoint to Makar's melody.

The Master Sword began to glow in the blue light. Link picked up the sword, and held it skyward, as the wings spread fully, and the blade shone. This was no mere sparkle. Mido smiled, and gave a sly wink, as he vanished back into Makar.

"I must stay here, and continue to offer my prayers, so that the power to repel evil remains within the Master Sword. If you enter the blue light, it will carry you back to the world above."

Link nodded; he had done this before, but bowed to Makar—and Mido, too, although he couldn't see the latter.

"Thank you, Makar. I will return for you when this is all over. Please, be safe until then." He turned to walk to the blue light, and Zelda spoke up, tentative, from the pendant wrapped around his hand.

"I suppose…this is goodbye," Zelda said, softly. "We won't be able to talk when you're out collecting the Triforce, will we? I'll miss talking to you. You're a lot more…interesting…than I thought when we first met. And, smarter and braver, too. Please, be careful, yourself. I won't be able to tell if something happens to you, so nothing had better happen to you. And… thank you, Link. For everything."

Link shifted on his feet. He could feel his own blush. Since when did Zelda give compliments? Makar was peering at him—Link could feel the eyes boring into his back, as he sheathed the Master Sword, and began to unwrap Zelda's pendant. Why was she so certain that they wouldn't be able to still talk? But, if she thought it, there must be good reason. She was the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom, after all.

"Thank you, Zelda. You've been…nice…to talk to, too. I'll definitely miss your counsel and insight. But, I think… well, I think I'll miss the assurance that you're safe down there, most of all. I'll miss talking to you. Maybe I'll become a pirate when this is all over. Who knows?"

Zelda gave a ragged laugh, and Link sobered. "Don't treat this as a final goodbye. We'll see each other again soon—I promise. Just don't get into trouble before then. Think you can manage that?"

Zelda gave a feeble laugh. "I'll do my best, Link. You do yours. We'll meet back here when we do."

Link nodded, knowing that she could see it, and stepped into the blue light.

It set him down onto the shore. The daylight was beginning to die, and the King of Red Lions, who had probably napped while he had been inside, was nevertheless yawning, as the blue light gently set Link down. He drew the Master Sword, and held it out for the boat to see.

"Time we started collecting charts," Link said. "And, I know just where to begin. With that island north of Ice Ring Isle that I meant to sail to last time! Let's go!"

The boat seemed to think that Link was far too energetic; he gave a great yawn, and turned to peer blearily at Link. "You have been in that temple for three days. Do you not think it prudent to rest?"

Link furrowed his brows, in response, considering. Time passed differently below, didn't it? But, surely, the King ought to know that. Perhaps, as a spirit, he was unaware that below, neither food and drink nor sleep were required. Link was quite as awake as he had been before he had gone below. But, he wasn't one to waste such a gift.

"Tomorrow morning, then," he said, even as he considered the question of whether or not he still needed food and sleep for three days, even if he didn't feel thirsty, hungry, or tired. It was possible, wasn't it?

The next morning, the first thing he did, after having his breakfast, was to warp to the Southern Fairy Island, deciding while he was there that he might as well climb out and see what assistance these fairies could render, before sailing to the northeast, to whatever island lay due north of Ice Ring Isle.

Before he could enter, he had to spend one of his arrows to light a wooden fence on fire. Oh, he'd tried other things—the hammer, the Master Sword, and even bombs, but the wood was unyielding. There must be some manner of spell on it.

Once the wood had burnt through, a chamber in the shell house was revealed, and in its centre, a hole. Link jumped in, assuming that fairies weren't sadistic enough to provide an entrance that people could use without providing an exit. Then again, the entrance had been sealed off with those beams of wood. Too late to rethink it now.

The yellow light that led into the temples reappeared, guiding him gently to the floor. The blackness of the cave wall felt as if he were in the sky, instead of deep underground. The air was fresh, not musty, as he might expect from subterranean caverns. He stared around at all of the scalloped clamshells, the packed snowy crystal of the floor, and the heart of the fairy fountain, where everything was a very dark red. A lone fairy swam low to the ground, aimlessly—the messenger of the Great Fairy?

As he approached the far side of the room, rather in awe of the scene around him, which might truly lie in another world, he stared all around, committing all to memory.

When he came close enough to climb the steps leading to the fountain proper, the fairy rushed around in a circle, and in an explosion of red light, the Great Fairy appeared. She wore a long, pale red dress, much like the previous Great Fairy's. She had pale red hair in a bun, with bright red eyes. Her red skin was so dark that it was almost black, and she had four arms. Perhaps, all great fairies looked very similar. He'd assumed so, until he'd met the fairy queen. She was a rather disturbing anomaly.

The Great Fairy smiled when she saw him.

"Young Waker of the Winds," she said, and Link began to feel his worries and concerns be soothed by her comforting voice. "You wield a bow. I can increase the number of arrows that your quiver can carry by half. Please, allow me to aid you in your quest."

The many-petaled flower that appeared in the hands attached to her lower arms was bright red this time, and not blue. But, just as the previous Great Fairy had, she lifted it to her lips, using the upper pair of hands to channel her breath in the proper direction. He decided not to question how being smothered under a pile of flower petals would affect his quiver at all.

Link bowed to the Great Fairy in gratitude, instead, and she vanished in a beam of light, her voice resounding in the temporarily empty fountain. "Farewell, young Waker of the Winds. Though we shall not meet again, return at any time for my attendant fairies to ease your weariness."

And suddenly, the fountain was filled with the same fairies he had seen at Outset. Well, presumably not the same fairies. Presumably, they were merely uncannily similar in appearance. Did it matter?

A fairy broke off from the others, and approached him, spiraling up and down around him as the one he had caught on Outset had flown in circles around his grandmother. He felt his energy be restored. He was much more awake and alert.

He gave a smile to the fairy, as it vanished, back into whatever otherworld fairies inhabited when the great fairies didn't send them to this one.

Link turned around, heading back for the light. So, this warp spot was to a Great Fairy's fountain, eh? And, that had been a useful stop.

He returned back to his boat, who was frowning grumpily, and took out the Wind Waker.

A moment and a tune later, and they were sailing north, for the mysterious island south of the Tower of the Gods, and north of Ice Ring Isle.

Link was surprised and confused (had the map been wrong?) to find a quaint, picturesque island, lushly green, with trees, and a pool of water surrounded by comfortable-looking chairs. An awning suspended on a pole provided shade from the sun. There was a cliff at the far side from how he had entered, but Link thought that the shack nestled up against said cliff was probably a better place to start looking for a map.

When he approached the door, he noticed that there was a figure painted on it, of a man in a black fancy suit, with a towel draped over his arm. Link reached for the door, trying to find a way to open it. The island looked abandoned; he doubted that anyone would care. But then, the door itself spoke, in a man's high, reedy voice that was immediately grating.

"Halt! This is private property! None but the owner of this cabana may enter! If you want to get by me, you must show proof of ownership! Well, out with it, boy!"

A talking picture? Now, he knew he was dreaming. Nevertheless, he reached into his messenger bag for the deed Mrs. Marie had given him to her private cabana, and hoped that there was only one private cabana on the entire Great Sea. He saw no other way to enter the house than to use this door, which would open only if he were the owner of the property. If it weren't the right deed, perhaps he would see if he could break down the door, or investigate the cliff behind the house.

He held up the deed, signed by Mrs. Marie herself, and the painting gasped.

"Oh! Young Master Link Sylvanus, then! It appears that you are my new master. Very well, forgive this old door his rudeness and lack of manners. I am the only means of defence of this cabana…. Please, come in, and make yourself at home. Let me know if there is anything that I can do for you."

The door swung inward, and Link gingerly stepped inside, rolling the cabana deed back up to stick into his messenger bag as he did. This was an unusually lavish house. Where did a schoolteacher get this much money?

The door shut behind him, and he saw the back side of the suit, and the grey hair of the painting to which it belonged. He didn't question what the door could do for him, being an inanimate object. If it could swing open, and speak, who knew what else it was capable of?

Link began a thorough search of the room, which included a basin for bathing, a bookcase with several scrolls, none of them charts, a fireplace, and a table with two plushly padded chairs drawn up to it. Did Mrs. Marie have guests often? Or did the house have some means of supplying itself? Mrs. Marie must have had food shipped in, because there was no pantry or other means of storing provisions. There was an odd, distorted picture on the wall, which, when he looked at it, turned out to be a jumbled replica of the picture on the other wall. The truly eerie thing was that the pictures were both of Zill, who had never left Outset.

Finally, he saw it. Hanging up above was a rod, inexplicably centred over the middle of the room. Grappling hooks were not very rare items, were they, if every rito had them? Some of them must surely end up in human hands. He tried and failed to imagine the rather old and overweight schoolteacher swinging from such a rope, and grimaced at the thought.

He pulled out the messenger bag, and then the grappling hook, and took aim.

Swinging from the hook caused a hidden switch to trigger, and a bucket of water put out the fire in the fireplace, revealing a hole.

A secret underground passage? Perhaps, a secret library? He approached the hole, trying to peer down into it, but the blackness was too complete.

There was nothing for it but to leap in, and to hope for the yellow light to break his fall. If all else failed, he still had red potion!

Thankfully, a yellow light set him down into a platform surrounded by murky, brackish water. The fetid smell made him wrinkle his nose, and gave him pause as to what this place was, and what he might encounter here. But, he walked through the water, which never rose above his feet, approaching an open entryway.

He soon discovered that this place was a maze, and that it was crawling with vermin. The first chamber he entered had a hole, with a ladder leading down. This ladder led to a tiny room, the bottom covered with water, with two crawlspaces. Each one led to a different, similar hole.

He chose the one directly in front of the ladder, and emerged at the bottom of another hole, with a ladder leading up. Nearby was a switch covered in brambles. This made him pause, and frown. What were these brambles doing here? Still, he took out the hammer, and set to whacking them. He was becoming a bit suspicious of the schoolteacher. First the private cabana, and now this underground chamber. Nor was that the worst of it.

Bars lifted somewhere in the maze, and Link was able to enter a new part of the cavern (which part he didn't know; he was already lost). In this chamber, a hole with a single crawlspace enabled him to access two different bramble switches, each of which opened barred gates, connecting all of the chambers he had been in thus far to one another. He at least had a shortcut back to the entrance!

He entered the new path (one of the new paths?) and decided that Mrs. Marie had crossed the line from creepy to criminal evil when he saw two creatures the colour of warped wood waiting below. They saw him, and shrieked, and he froze, as if he had no control over his body. He willed himself to move. Move! But, he couldn't.

They lumbered towards him, their approach painfully slow.

He pulled out the bow, at last regaining control over his arms, and reached for an arrow from his (full!) new expanded quiver. He clenched his fist tight around the arrowhead, willing it to fill with fire, and notched the arrow. He barely gave himself time to aim his shot. The arrow hit the thing in the arm, rather than the chest, but the creatures didn't just look wooden. They were highly flammable, too!

Link took a deep, shuddering breath, and wished that Zelda were with him via communication stone. Alas, she was in the land beneath the waves, and he was somewhere above it. There was no one else here. He was all alone, with these unnatural humanoid….

Yes, that sentence was best ended there. He reached for a second arrow with shaking fingers, clenching the arrowhead so tight that it cut into his hand, but he didn't notice, too busy willing the head to fill with fire. He made a clumsy backflip, and notched the arrow.

The first monster collapsed with a groan, leaving behind a vial of magic recovery potion. The second arrow missed, and Link swore, and reached for a third arrow, trying to regulate his breathing, and to still his shaking fingers. Fear would not serve him here.

He infused the third arrow with fire, aimed, shot, hit it on the head, and fire spread from that point.

Another magic recovery vial appeared as the second monster collapsed. Unlike normal monsters, these did not vanish in puffs of smoke. It made him suspect that these were not truly monsters at all. Perhaps they were, instead, the defiled corpses of—

Nope. Stopping that thought there. He took a moment to press his hands against the wall, pushing against the white bricks with all his might, keeping his hands flat. Slowly, his breathing evened out. His hands, when he pulled them away, felt the strain of recent exertion, instead of shaking as they had before. A streak of blood remained where his left hand had touched the wall. Well, he'd recognise this chamber, at least, if he backtracked. There couldn't be too many chambers with human blood on the walls, could there?

Could there? Oh, bad question.

He saw the crawlspace, and got back onto his hands and knees, wriggling through this space and silently praying to the nameless goddesses that there be no more of those undead monsters. He knew that he'd spent a great deal of magic—though nowhere near his limit, thanks to the Great Fairy of Outset Island—and he could feel the strain. He should watch how much magic he used until he could recover his magic energy.

At the far side was a broad chamber. On the far side of that chamber were a handful of pots sitting on a white dais. They flanked a circular red rug. Five steps led up the dais, and right at the top, before the rug, was a circle like a seal. The triple triangles—yellow, this time, with the wings of that bird from the Hero of Time's shield—set against a red background.

He walked up the steps, and smashed the vases, looking for any hint of the chart. There was none. There were, however, quite a few rupees. He picked them up and put them into Niko's wallet. It wasn't as much as he'd expected. More disappointing was the fact that the chart wasn't in any of the vases.

The symbol of the Triforce must be the key. He stood on the symbol, and the faerie ocarina hummed softly. He narrowed his eyes, and pulled out the Wind Waker. Time to run through all the sequence of triangular songs that he could think of. It had to be in three-four time. Only that would produce a triangle, really.

He started off with the "Wind's Requiem", and then realised that that was what he had done. He must just use it so often that he played it automatically…!

He was not expecting for a red treasure chest to appear in the middle of the floor.

This must be the location of the Triforce Chart. That was a mercy.

Link turned the clasp of the lock, and flipped open the lid. He reached inside, and pulled out a red chart emblazoned with the symbol of the Triforce in yellow in the centre. Yes! This must be it!

Link considered giving a shout of triumph, and then thought of the undead monsters. Who knew how many more of them were sleeping beneath Marie's cabana?

He swallowed, hard, and carefully stowed the map inside his messenger bag. He ran towards the only open path out of the chamber, and found that it led back to the entrance of the maze. The yellow light was clearly visible before him. He stepped into it, and heaved a sigh of relief only when he was again standing in the cosy room that Marie had provided for herself. He considered asking the painting what he knew of the underground catacombs beneath the house, but decided that, on balance, he really didn't want to know.

Instead, he turned and headed for the door without a word.

"Let me out," he said, in his most level voice, and the door obligingly opened, with an obsequious, "As you wish, Master. Please return to keep this humble old door company again, soon."

No. Link was never coming back here if he could help it. He imagined the monsters following the light back to the surface, and prayed that they couldn't swim. He shuddered at the thought of them washing up on a beach somewhere. But, he could hope that the door would keep them from leaving, right?

And, maybe there had only been those two, below.

Denial was the only way forward.

He hurried down to the King of Red Lions, still feeling a bit faint.

"Let's go to Tingle Island," he said, as calmly as possible. The boat turned to face him with an odd expression. His unmoving wooden eyes remained expressionless, but that mouth was trying to convey something. Concern, perhaps?

"I just want to get out of here. After Tingle Island, I'll go see the Great Fairy to the north of his island. Then, we'll come back to Southern Fairy Island, and head southeast. There's another chart there."

Without waiting for a response, he withdrew the Wind Waker, warping them to square C-3 in silence broken only be his warp request. The mast rose, and they sailed to the island.

Link jumped out, and climbed the tall tower to Tingle's base.

Tingle was a figure who never became less predictable. He greeted Link with a cry of "Mr. Fairy! You came to visit poor old Tingle! Tingle is so very happy to see you, Mr. Fairy! What shall we play today? Shall we play a game? Are you here to take me to fairyland?

"What? No? You're not? You have a chart that you need deciphered, you say? Leave it to Tingle. Hand it over!"

Link glanced at Ankle and Davey Junior, as they pushed Tingle's huge wooden sign around and around. He turned his back to Tingle, and pulled out the messenger bag, and then the chart from within it, and Niko's wallet. It would take almost all of the money he had, except for fifty rupees, to pay off Tingle. Maybe if he stressed that he was rescuing the world, the Great Fairy to the north would give him some rupees in addition to the enhanced wallet? It was worth a try?

He handed over four hundred rupees, and the chart, and Tingle handed two rupees back. They were both green. Perhaps, it was Tingle's fondness for the colour showing through. Who knew?

He threw the chart over his head, and Link winced and turned away, as Tingle did something, crying: "Tingle, Tingle, kooloo-limpah! Become…readable!"

Was that it? Really? The chart landed in Tingle's hands, and Link resisted the sudden desire to burn the thing that had touched Tingle. He held out his hand for the map, and Tingle said. "Those are Tingle's words! Don't steal them! Tingle came up with them himself!"

He held out his hand, and Link's brows furrowed. "I already paid you, Tingle," he said, trailing off at a lack of an idea of what more to say.

"Tingle knows that. He's very smart and knowledgeable. No, Tingle wishes to do you a favour. Give him the chart that he sent to you via the postman, and he will mark the location of the item you seek on the map. It will make it easier to find."

Link blinked rapidly. This was not something he expected from someone like Tingle. Why was he being…nice?

Did it have to be asked? He sighed, and reached into his messenger bag for the chart in question. It came immediately to hand, as everything he needed did.

Tingle hummed to himself, and pulled a black stick out of nowhere, beginning to scribble on the paper.

Link took it back, nodded at the chart, and then paused. Tingle had marked the chart with the triple triangles of the Triforce…. What did he know?

"There you go, Mr. Fairy! If you find any more charts, bring them here, and Tingle will translate them for you, for four hundred minus two rupees each!"

Tingle made no sense. Perhaps, he made as little sense to himself as he did to everyone else. Perhaps, he himself didn't know why he marked the map with that sign.

Link nodded, and put the charts back into his messenger bag. He climbed over the side of the tower onto the ladder, and then dropped, eager to be away.

He walked back to the King of Red Lions, still contemplating the enigma that was Tingle.

He shook himself, reminding himself to focus at the situation at hand.

They sailed north, until they reached another heart-shaped island. The spiral-shaped antechamber was violet in colour, and thus Link knew to expect a violet fairy fountain. The door was open, with no traps.

As he approached, however, a sky blue chuchu crackling with electricity rose from the ground. He remembered the words of the alchemist about the mysterious electric blue chuchu that might be the key to making the ultimate medicine (whatever that was), and took out the boomerang to stun it, before quickly cutting it apart. Blue chu jelly was left behind, and Link picked it up, storing it in one of his bottles. Then, he ran into the giant shell, and dove into the hole in the ground.

The yellow light set him gently down in a chamber much like the other two fountains, only this one was all over violet, just as he'd expected. He approached the lone fairy at the far end, and she created a swirling portal of light.

The lilac-haired fairy smiled as she stopped spinning around in circles. It was hard to tell what eyes that lacked iris and pupil were looking at, but he thought that she was looking at him.

"Young Waker of the Winds," she said. Energy and courage returned to Link, and he relaxed properly for the first time since encountering those monsters below. "I can enable you to carry more rupees. Allow me to aid you in your quest."

"I have a small favour to ask. See, there's this man named Tingle, with a mind like a child, who wants to be a fairy. To save the world, I have to gather the shards of the Triforce, and to find those shards, I have to get seven more charts deciphered from Tingle for the price of four hundred (minus two) rupees each, so I was wondering, seeing as how I'm trying to save the world…."

The Great Fairy laughed. "I will give you what funds you will need to succeed in your quest."

She raised the purple flower to her lips, and raised her hands to frame the flower, the better to aim and direct the petals.

The petals swirled around Link, who felt no different from how he had before, but then, he hadn't sensed a change the last time, either. He bowed low to the Great Fairy, who was already disappearing in a beam of light.

Her voice echoed after her. "Farewell, young Waker of the Winds. Though we shall not meet again, return at any time for my attendant fairies to ease your weariness."

As before, the fountain filled with fairies much like those he had seen at the other two fountains. Unlike the great fairies, these all looked exactly the same.

Link shrugged, and turned back towards the yellow light.

C-1: Northern Fairy Island, he thought to himself, considering adding the name to his sea chart himself. What then, though, of the fishmen, and their debt to the King?

He sighed. Perhaps, he was too soft.

The King of Red Lions waited at the shore, yawning widely. Link realised that he hadn't looked at either chart. What idiot was he?

The sun was setting now, but he could look first thing in the morning.

Deciding to head to the island to the southeast of Southern Fairy Island first, he fell asleep.

He awoke the next day, first pulling out the chart that Tingle had sent in the mail. This first piece of the Triforce was located somewhere near an island in the shape of a star, located due east of the Forsaken Fortress. Link was thinking progressively worse of the whole affair. Why did Marie have such a chart at all? Let alone one showing the location of a piece of a relic submerged somewhere near the lair of a truly legendary evil?

That reminded him. "Hey, King," he said to the boat, possibly waking it up. Oops. "Do we have a way to dredge things up from the seafloor?"

The King chewed on his lips. "I believe that we can use your grappling hook as a winch to pull items up from the seabed. Just hold it out, the way you hold the bomb bag out to make the cannon, and I will create a crane for you. Make sure that we are dead over the location before delving for treasure, and get rid of any enemies nearby first. It will require too much of your attention!"

Well, that was something. He pulled out the Wind Waker, and warped them back to the Southern Fairy Island. He could almost hear the King frown. Then, he conducted the "Wind's Requiem", and changed the localised blast of the wind to guide them southeast. He nodded to himself in satisfaction, and put his supplies back away.

They sailed until noon, before approaching a series of blocks rising from the sea. These were the very blocks he had seen on Dragon Roost, he noticed, questioning their origins. These couldn't be a natural phenomenon, could they? He shrugged, as they approached, and the fishman leapt out of the water, to fill in their sea chart, and give some advice.

Apparently, this island was called "Angular Isles" even though, at first glance, there was only a single island.

No, the second one was just tiny. It was one block high, deep, and wide. That meant that a giant block puzzle lay before Link, in the most literal way possible. He sighed, staring at the unhelpful picture the fishman had drawn on the sea chart. It was just the outline of each island, both unnaturally square.

He climbed out of the boat, as soon as the fish had gone (after a long-winded tale about how supposedly a chart showing the location of the fabled "Triumph Forks" could be found here). Well, yes, that was why Link was here at all.

Link found a block low enough that he could climb onto it, and began making his way around the irregular structure, always climbing upwards. Eventually, he found a block that wasn't so covered in moss that he couldn't move it, and used it to gain access to the second highest blocks. Yes! And there, at the centre of the island, was a giant hole leading down.

Please let there be no walking dead down here, he prayed to the unknown goddess of courage, as he let the yellow light carry him down.

There was no sign of any monsters at all, within, except for three yawning mouths to the north, east, and west. But, nothing emerged from these mouths. Link suspected that he was safe. The island seemed deserted.

The immediate objective was clear: move the blocks until he could climb the vaguely pyramidal structure before him. There was a patch of sunlight at the top, which suggested that he needed the mirror shield, too.

He nodded, walking around the pile of blocks, imagining how he could move each one (those that weren't glued together by moss), to provide a path he could climb up.

That one over there, that one atop it, that one over towards the patch of light… this one onto the previous two….

Link double-checked his plans, and set to moving the blocks. Periodically, he paused to observe the three yawning mouths, and to listen for any sound of an enemy's approach. Eventually, however, he had made a sort of pyramidal staircase, and he could climb up the blocks to the patch of sunlight.

He stood there, in the sun, for a second, before pulling the mirror shield off his back. He stared at the silver shield for a moment— at the odd sickle moons and the shape like a battleaxe beneath it. The same was on his silver gauntlets, only much smaller. Both were silver, with red edging. The softer red leather allowed his hands to move and his fingers to bend even as the silver somehow strengthened his entire body. The red enameled edges of the mirror shield were the exact same hue of red. They were probably only decorative, but the red leather straps on the back were not.

He shrugged, aiming the beam of sunlight reflected off the shield, shining it across the mouths of the tunnels, first, because he assumed that they had some sort of function, and there was no clear target for the ray of light, which also needed some purpose. A big red treasure chest appeared in the mouth of the north tunnel, and Link now had to figure out a way to get there. Even from this distance, he could easily tell that there was no way up. The rows of teeth surrounding the carved mouth complicated things further still.

He climbed down the blocks again, deciding that he might as well analyse it from closer to, and remembered, faintly, that the hookshot could latch onto the strangest things. He approached the mouth, and carefully aimed between the teeth. Sure enough, the wood of treasure chests was a material that the hook of the hookshot could latch onto.

It pulled him up into the cave mouth and disengaged, setting him down right in front of the chest. He twisted the clasp, and opened the chest, to find the second triforce chart, this one just like the previous, a red scroll with the yellow triple triangles on it.

And still, no enemies had appeared. Link nodded to himself, and, glancing one last time around the room, he returned to the world above the sea via the light.

Next stop: whatever island was due northeast of the Forest Haven.

He warped to the Forest Haven first, his eyes lingering on the still dreary-looking Forbidden Woods, confused as to why he had expected it to look brighter than it had before. He shrugged, and guided the wind along the melody of the "Wind's Requiem".

A moment later, they were sailing northeast, to parts unknown. Link was beginning to think that he might see every inch of these seas. After all, after he had somehow acquired all eight charts, he would still need to retrieve the pieces of the Triforce. The sea chart had forty-nine squares, and he had been to half of the islands already—or at least seen them, as their likenesses and names covered his chart.

Then, there were several charts located on unfamiliar islands (or near them?), not to speak of the missing Triforce pieces. And then, perhaps, he would need to do something more before the King of Red Lions decided that he was ready. He still was not in the boat's confidence, which was pathetic and rather disheartening.

This was not the spirit with which to embark upon an adventure. This would not do! He leant into the sea spray, eyes already straining for any glimpse of the mysterious island located somewhere in the northeast. He just hoped that he didn't pass it by, or somehow else miss it altogether. Still, he'd found Angular Isles by just sailing southeast from Southern Fairy Island. Perhaps, he'd be lucky again.

Yet, he remembered that it usually seemed to take about half a day to sail across from one side of a square to the middle of the next. So, if he hadn't encountered the island by sundown, he had definitely sailed too far.

Despite this plan, he tensed, as hours passed with no sign of the island. At last, a small cluster of islands appeared, shooting up into the sky. Nearby was a much shorter island. There was a house-sized patch of grass, with a cliff on the far side, and a hole set into the cliff, a natural alcove, its contents hidden from view by heavy iron bars.

To his left, he saw kargarocs wheeling around, high above. With the assistance of Aryll's telescope, he discovered that there was a kargaroc each perched in a nest at the top of five columnar rocks. This was what he had previously taken to be a cluster of rocks.

Link took a moment to consider just how good of a shot he was. He stepped out of the boat onto the grassy island, and took careful aim at the kargarocs overhead. He could see nothing else to do. He aimed for the ones sitting on the nests first.

He hit the first one, and saw it vanish in a minute puff of black smoke. He pulled out his telescope, and saw a lit switch had been sitting beneath it—or had he tripped the switch when he had fired that shot?

He took careful aim again, at the next island. Again he hit the kargaroc (the island, or whatever these spikes of rocks were called, was closer than the previous; Link had expected to hit). A lit switch also lay beneath the kargaroc. He wondered if he ought to fire an arrow at the switch. Would that activate, or deactivate, these switches? He might as well kill all of the still nesting kargarocs, and see if that accomplished anything.

Now, he was getting to more difficult targets. He aimed at the kargaroc in the nest at the top of the spire behind the one he had just shot at. It was very far away.

He had to shoot two more times before he tripped the switch. It was that far. Link was astonished that he could even shoot an arrow that far, let alone hit a target.

He set his sights on the island around which circling kargarocs flew. There was only one nesting kargaroc other than the one perched on the heart of the spread of spires.

This one was closer, but the last was the furthest away of any of those columns. Link aimed the bow again, reminding himself that the spire to the left—the farther one—was much farther away than the kargaroc he was attempting to hit.

He struck this one, too, and turned, aiming for the final spire. It took three tries, but he managed to hit said kargaroc. This apparently triggered the fifth and final switch, because, with a sound of grating metal, the bars to his right lifted up into the ceiling of the doorway, revealing a hole leading into the ground. Of course.

Link put away the bow, and approached the entrance. Then, he leapt backwards, hearing the crackle of electricity from overhead. A moment later, an electric blue chuchu wobbled off the higher cliff, still crackling with energy. He backflipped again, retrieved the boomerang, and threw the weapon, before swiftly drawing the sword, and hacking at the creature.

The chu jelly it left behind could be put in the same bottle as the previous one. Maybe the alchemist was right, after all.

He waited for a few seconds, to ensure that nothing would attack him from above. When nothing did, he approached the cave entrance once more. He leapt into the hole without a second thought, trusting the yellow light (which he only saw before it picked him up when he was leaving, not when he was arriving).

The yellow light set him down gently into a bland-looking room, all of grey bricks, with a few steps running the width of the room leading up onto a raised platform. Climbing the stairs, his eyes were drawn right to the sign of the Triforce standing in front of a blue rug. There was nothing on the rug, but there would be. All he needed was the right song.

He stepped onto the red circle, and the faerie ocarina hummed. He pulled out the conductor's baton, and elected to see if the "Wind's Requiem" was the proper song first. Judging by the red chest appearing before him, it was.

He opened the red chest without preamble, pulling out the third Triforce Chart, and stowing it into his messenger satchel with less than complete reverence.

That had been easy. The danger and hardship was in hitting those birds from afar.

As he let the light carry him up, he contemplated what island he ought to head to next.

By now, it was almost sundown. That made the answer obvious: Outset. His home island. If he returned at night, he could avoid the accusations—of dereliction of duty, of failing his family, of bringing war to his home. He didn't want to see anyone—not even Aryll. There were too many what ifs, and I should haves.

After that, he could go to the island to the northeast of Dragon Roost. That island also happened to be the northeast-most reaches of the Great Sea. Once again, he had to judge whether or not he would sail away into the greater sea, if there were one. Well, he now had a plan, he supposed.

He let the light pull him back to the surface, and walked back over to his boat. Then, he guided the wind through the "Ballad of Gales", warping over to the island of his birth.

Outset Island looked uninhabited from a distance, until you came close enough to see the houses, often nearly camouflaged by the surrounding groves of leafy trees whence came the wood for said houses. But, at night, the light blazed through the windows. Not everyone was abed yet. He remembered Mesa saying that he had trouble sleeping at night anymore. He'd still be awake, at least—but too frightened to go outside. Which probably meant too scared to look out the window, too.

Now that he was here, the first thing that Link needed to do was to find the location of whatever (almost certainly cave) hid the next triforce chart. He had roamed the island, far and wide, as a child—playing games with Sue-Belle and Mesa, before they'd grown up, and become too old and responsible for childish games.

Later, he'd played with Aryll, and helped to watch the adventurous Joel. If the secret hiding place were at all accessible on the lower parts of the island, he would have stumbled upon it long ago. No memory came to mind of anything like a hidden cave, except for that high above, across the bridge.

It was the only idea, for a starting place. He climbed out of the boat without a word of explanation, even after the King of Red Lions questioned him, and then reprimanded him for visiting his family when there were pressing matters to attend to, and he'd see them again soon enough, wouldn't he?

Easy for him to say. He lived so long ago that there was no one for him to care about—except for Zelda.

Yes, Link understood his sentiments. But, he wished the boat would be quiet, before someone noticed it. He felt quite enough the scum of the earth without the King of Red Lions loudly protesting against him doing what he ought to be doing.

"I'm looking for another chart," he said tersely. "Please be quiet, so no one comes out here and sees you."

The King frowned, and Link had the sense that his sincerity was being weighed. He didn't give the boat a chance to think it over, heading right for the path leading up to the bridge.

The bridge had, of course, not yet been repaired. Link climbed atop one of the posts, for a superior vantage point, and reached into his pocket for Aryll's telescope.

He panned across the island for at least a minute before spotting an outcropping to the northwest. A ledge, near his house, but tall enough that, from a lower perspective, you would never guess that it was there. It formed a promontory, leading out towards the sea. At the end of the promontory, barely visible, hidden around a corner of the mountain wall as it was, was what looked to be the same sort of giant stone head as that to the east on Headstone Island. Definitely a place to start, at least.

Link put away the telescope, and brought out the baton. With the wind at his back blowing northwest, he pulled the Deku Leaf out of his messenger bag, and stuffed the bag back into his pocket, before leaping off the post. If nothing else, the Deku Leaf would ensure that he didn't fall to his death. He could try this again.

His arms were screaming by the time the ledge came within reach. He dropped as soon as he was securely over ground. There was, in fact, a stone statue head before him. He bent over, holding his arms loose, he rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had seeped into them. That was a long flight! He hoped he didn't need to use magic anytime soon.

He frowned at the stone head before him, wishing that he didn't have to lift anything right now. He gave himself a few seconds to rest, and then approached the statue head. This was going to hurt.

He cautiously reached under it, and lifted, transferring most to the rock's weight to his back (how much did it matter, though? He was wearing gauntlets that strengthened his entire body).

He managed to turn around to face the rock wall behind him. Throwing a giant boulder in the direction of the sea could cause as many problems for the island as if he'd lobbed it at the town itself, especially since the stone would probably not break into pieces on its way into the sea.

The rock shattered against the thicker stone of the island proper, and Link turned back around to look at what had hid beneath the head.

There was a hole, sure enough, impenetrably dark. Link reached into his messenger bag, took out some of his red potion, and took a few sips. His throbbing shoulders began to cease their incessant complaints. One fewer thing to worry about. It would not do to enter an unknown area distracted. Now that he was ready, he could jump in.

There was, naturally, another of the yellow lights to ease his freefall towards the floor. It set him down gently, on his feet, as Link looked at the area around him. There were lit torches flanking another gaping hole.

Link wasn't sure which bothered him more—the torches that were lit although he had to have been the first visitor to this place since the gauntlets had been hidden away (and this was probably millennia ago, judging by the architecture, and the fact that you needed the help of the Fairy Queen to enter) or the second hole in the ground. He was favouring the former.

Well, there was no use thinking about the matter. The sooner he jumped into that hole, the sooner he'd have an idea of what awaited him. Looking before he leapt would not avail him here. With these thoughts in mind, he jumped into the hole below.

He found himself in a small room, where a ring of fire surrounded what he guessed to be either the treasure chest containing the chart, or yet another hole in the ground. Milling about were several keese. They noticed him as the yellow light set him down, and flew towards him. The one nearest him dove at him, but he swiftly drew the Master Sword, and cut through it.

For the rest of the keese, he drew out the boomerang, aiming carefully as the ones on the far side of the room, near the wall of fire, flew around erratically. Once the boomerang was airborne, he drew the Master Sword once more, as the remaining two keese dove at him from two different sides. A single swing dispatched both of them, and the boomerang was already returning to him.

The wall of fire surrounding the hole in the ground disappeared, and Link nodded to himself—he had expected that—and jumped in.

He swiftly realised—as he went from room to room, fighting his way through identical chambers filled with all the same type of monsters, or of several different kinds he'd encountered earlier—that none of the monsters seemed quite real. There were never any puffs of black smoke—the slain monsters just vanished. Then, too, was the more pressing fact that none of them left any trace behind—and that included the black balls that always seemed to accompany the moblins. It was somewhat distracting, the thought that, if these weren't real, then what were they? Link stayed focused on the matter at hand, however.

There were three darknuts in the room that must be the last, if the tall columns rising up to the ceiling, and the size of the chamber, and the white walls and floors that suggested that he wasn't still in a cave at all, were any indication. They approached him all at once, but Link was, by now, unfazed by such an attack.

He vaguely remembered the tactics he had used against the parties of several darknuts and moblins in Hyrule Castle. Pit them against each other—use their own attacks against them, and pick them off, one by one. The way they were lined up thus meant that each of them were well within the range of attack of one another. Any given one of them could injure either or both of the others with a misplaced attack. The key was to position himself to ensure just such an accident.

He cut off the Knight's Crests, and stuffed them into his messenger bag, as he fought. There was time enough to waste with such frivolities.

At last, when the final darknut, which had black armour (a colour he'd never seen them wear before), vanished, the bars covering a door on the far side of the room lifted. As he approached, he noted that the swords of the darknuts were left behind, unlike the bokoblins', or even the spears of the moblins. Was it significant? Maybe. Probably not.

He crossed to the far side of the room, and cocked his head, examining the sign of the Triforce, blazing yellow on the red door.

"Open," he told it. It opened. Were all doors secretly this way, or was that a sign of this place's age? He wasn't sure.

He walked through, into a square chamber, walls supported by wooden beams helping to hold up a ceiling too distant to see. Link wondered just how far below the sea he was now. Impossibly far, perhaps?

He shrugged, knowing that no answers could be forthcoming, and approached the steps on the far side of the room—they led up to a dais in an odd shape, like a semi-circle, but with edges, turning it into a hexagon. Columns were stationed at each point of the hexagon, blocking Link's view somewhat, but he saw the triple triangles on the red background easily enough. And, there was the blue rug, in front of it. There were swirling designs of darker blue crawling throughout the rug, but Link couldn't make out any particular secret message to the design; he dismissed it. The triangle, on the other hand, was an important clue. Time for the Wind Waker.

By now, he felt confident that the "Wind's Requiem" was the key to all of these treasure chests. There was something about the tune—he felt as if he'd heard it before. Was it the visions again, trying to guide him?

The moment he pulled the red chart from the red treasure chest, a beam of yellow light struck the floor behind it. That must be the way out.

Still contemplating the true significance of the "Wind's Requiem", Link entered the light, and let himself be carried back into the world above.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14: The Restless Ship

After venturing back to Tingle Island, and braving the conversation with the man himself, Link made his way back down below, to the ship, already planning what island he ought to venture to next. And, just what did that blue ship signify?

Perhaps, he'd learn, if he went to the only other ship pictured on the map—the cannon ship at whatever island lay on square A-5. On the other hand, there was another chart located northeast of Dragon Roost Island, and Komali might still be looking for him. Like Outset, that was a job best undertaken at night.

Then, of course, were the four pieces of the Triforce marked on Tingle's chart. He pulled out his sea chart, and studied their locations. There was one at the Forest Haven, one south of Southern Fairy Island, one east of the Forsaken Fortress, and one in the patch of unknown sea directly to the north of Dragon Roost Island. Didn't that suggest that he ought to warp to Dragon Roost Island first?

But, these pieces of the Triforce truly seemed to be scattered all over the Great Sea. Perhaps, there would be another piece of the Triforce near Dragon Roost Island, or even Outset. He couldn't be sure. What was the most efficient path—the one that wasted the least amount of time?

At length, he opted to warp to Dragon Roost Island, and sail past it on the west side (as far away as possible from where he'd last seen Komali, as a part of his mind chided him). He'd sail north first, and then east. He was very much aware that he'd have to fill in the sea chart he possessed if he wanted to have any hope of finding the Triforce using the deciphered chart.

To look at the "island" on this square of his chart, it was several dots spaced at regular intervals across a small area, making almost a design. Seven Star Isles, read the label. A series of islands? Or more of those spires from Cliff Plateau Isles?

And of course, as they sailed into roughly the area governed by that particular square on the grid, a whirlpool formed around them, and a giant octorok rose up out of the waves. Link noticed first that it was covered in huge yellow eyes. It also had thin tentacles, and an arrowhead shaped head, with a gaping mouth, which was probably the source of the whirlpool. Somehow.

Link pulled out the bow—he was going to need it soon, anyway, right?—and took aim at the big octorok. This was much easier than trying to hit Cyclos, within his hurricanes.

Eventually, the Octorok sank beneath the waves, and the whirlpool dissipated as it did, leaving no trace of the huge monster. Link took a moment to consider whether or not Tetra had ever faced off against one of these. He could just picture her, shouting orders and—wait.

That had actually happened, hadn't it? "Big Octo" might be short for "Big Octorok". She'd said something to Gonzo about it when he had interrupted her as she had been helping him to traverse the Tower of the Gods. It felt such a long time ago. He almost wished that he could go back to that time, but then Aryll would still be held prisoner in the Forsaken Fortress. At least Zelda was safe beneath the waves.

He hoped. He sent a prayer to the unknown gods for her well-being.

It was astonishing, to him, how much he missed her. The underground caves, and Marie's cabana in particular, had really underscored that point for him. He missed her. Even the walking corpses were less… intimidating, knowing that Zelda was watching, listening, and helping. There was just something about her that set his mind at ease. They definitely had a unique sort of connection.

Unaware of where his passenger's thoughts were tending, the King of Red Lions sailed on.

At dusk, they reached the spires of rock that they had seen from a distance. First, they needed to coax a fishman into filling in the sea chart. That was easy enough to do—there seemed to be fishmen stationed all over the sea, waiting for them, periodically leaping out of the water to look around. Or maybe, one followed them everywhere they went, somehow, and only leapt out to signal that he was waiting to fill in the chart.

That was ridiculous, wasn't it?

This particular fishman had some odd information, and an even odder warning, to dispense.

"Hey, fry! You'd better stay away from this stretch of sea on nights when a small part of the left side of the moon is missing. That's when it comes out, fry! The Ghost Ship! But, if you want to know where it is on any given night, and make sure that it doesn't vanish on you as you approach, go to Needle Rock Isle! That's the island on square A-5 of your nearly empty chart, fry! If you got that chart, you'd be able to board the Ghost Ship… although why you'd want to do that, I don't know. Surely, golden eating utensils aren't worth that much, no matter how much Triumph they contain! Well, with that advice, I think I'll leave you. Watch out for the Ghost Ship, fry!"

As he had spoken, Link had understood, finally, what Tingle's chart was telling him. The blue ship drawn off to the side was the Ghost Ship. And apparently, it only appeared at night. Perhaps, he'd go to that Needle Rock Isle after he had retrieved this next Triforce chart.

Well, for now, he was going to look for the piece of the Triforce that was located somewhere nearby. He sailed close to the isles, and pulled out the bow, shooting the kargarocs out of the sky—and the occasional nest—one by one. With them no longer liable to come swooping down at him, he put away the bow, and pulled out the grappling hook. That part was done, and the tedious part of matching up the image on the Triforce chart with their location could begin.

It wasn't as bad as he had thought it might be. Possession of a (translated?) chart meant that the area where the Triforce rested, deep below the waves, began to glow as he approached.

When he had marked his position fastidiously, comparing his current location with that shown on the chart, he pulled out the grappling hook, and held it out. As with the cannon, a crane swiftly sprouted out of the mast hold. After that, it was a simple matter of turning the crank so that the crane claw sank deeper and deeper under the waves, and waiting for it to catch on or to hit something.

A sudden weight at the end of the line caused the boat to lurch, and Link furrowed his brows, staring at the crane. Was something wrong?

He hurriedly spun the crank, watching as the rope retracted back into the arm of the structure.

Eventually, however, peering over the side, he was able to see that the hook had, in fact, caught onto the handle of a square red chest. He furrowed his brows again, but reached out to twist the arm of the machine around. When it was close enough, he carefully lifted the box into the boat, which rocked as he set the chest on the seat.

He wasn't sure what he was thinking or even feeling as he undid the latch and prised open the lid (all surprisingly in good repair). Within the chest was an irregularly shaped chunk of what looked to be gold. The edges to it were sharp and clean, for the most part. On one side, the edge was smooth and sharp as a knife, and came to a point like one, too. Two sides of the piece of the triangle were completely smooth, and seemed to shine. These must be the triangular faces of the triforce, rather than the thinner, rectangular sides of the triangle.

The moment he reached out to touch it, thinking to analyse it more closely, it vanished in a flash of light, which was echoed on his left hand. When the light faded, there was nothing in his boat but he himself, and the crane.

He shivered, and stared around the boat. What had just happened? What had become of the Triforce?

He knew full well that there was no point in asking the King of Red Lions. He pulled out the baton instead. Time to head east.

The extraordinary thing about the caves beneath Overlook Island was not the sheer number of trees he had had to use the hookshot to hop from one island to the next before making it to the hole. No, it was how closely the place resembled the series of caves beneath Outset. Outset and Overlook, at two opposite ends of the Great Sea, both filled with rooms filled with monsters.

While on Outset, he'd had to defeat the enemies in the caves in each successive room to move on to the next, in Overlook, he'd found himself in a central chamber, with a door on the far side of the room that was distinctive both because it was red when the rest were blue, and because, unlike the other four doors, there was no unlit torch hanging about it.

As he passed through each successive room, in no particular order, the torches lit. When he had defeated the last of these monsters, he'd again had to fight three darknuts, hiding in the central chamber. This was getting old.

However, when he had defeated the last of the darknuts, the bars on the far side of the room from the entry door rose, and he was able to enter the last room. Presumably, there would be no monsters there, but Link kept the sword and shield drawn, just in case. It was fortunate that these doors all seemed to respond to spoken commands; it meant that he didn't have to sheathe sword or replace his shield to open the door manually.

Sure enough, the room beyond was devoid of all foes. It was, as was the one on Outset, very white, with stone steps leading up to a dais ringed by columns. Indeed, it was almost identical. This one had several vases lining the edges of the platform. Bokoblins might be lurking within. Link shattered the vases, one by one, with the Master Sword, only to find that they contained different denominations of rupees. There were even some orange rupees like the one his grandmother had sent him in there! Apparently, those were worth one hundred rupees.

The amount of money he picked up was about three-quarters of what it would cost to get the map translated by Tingle, but it worked to cut the cost, somewhat. Link gave an appreciative nod in the direction of the goddesses in the sky, and then headed for the familiar triangles on the red background.

He didn't have to think about what to do next, his mind wandering to his next course of action as he guided the wind along the "Wind's Requiem", pausing to once again wonder where the song sounded familiar from.

He shrugged, as the red treasure chest appeared in a flash of light. Within was, of course, another of the red charts with the triforce emblazoned upon them as a seal. He picked it up, stowing it in his bag.

Next stop: that cluster of important squares on the grid, near Greatfish Isle. The fishman had said that the map to the Ghost Ship could be found on grid-square A-4, there was a Triforce shard marked on a cannon ship in Square A-5, and another marked on grid-square B-5. He wouldn't be surprised if some Triforce shards were hidden in that area, too. It was beginning to seem to be a strangely crucial part of the sea—and it wasn't that far from Outset Island.

Questions of whether or not this was for a reason, or mere coincidence, began to clamour at the back of his mind. He studiously ignored them, determined not to consider the matter of reincarnation for the moment. Instead, he hurried back through the main chamber, and through the door to the yellow light that had deposited him down here. After all, Zelda was waiting.

He sailed south from Greatfish Isle, and began scouring the seas for any sign of islands or of fishmen. He'd probably see the former first, but he knew nothing about the island he was looking for at all. It might be very, very small. That would make his search harder.

He saw the island first. It was huge, and so regularly shaped—a perfect cylinder, rising to the sky—that it must be artificial. As he approached, a fishman jumped from the water, heading for the boat, and he waited for it.

"Hoy there, fry! I take it you want to fill in that chart, and get some information on that there island? Start by giving me your sea chart!"

The fishman hummed to himself, a strange, gargling tune, as he hastily drew in the round island with his brush. He finished by writing the name of the island in swift, even brushstrokes.

"That there is the Islet of Steel, a fearsome battery. I hear that the cannon ships appear from there. It's loaded with cannons, but I bet if you took them out, it would have some mighty fine treasure inside, fry! Well, that's all the info I've got! Keep an eye out for us fishmen, yeah?"

He dove back under the water before Link could begin to reply. His mouth had barely started to open. Well, there were all sorts on the Great Sea. The fishmen generally seemed a bit quirky; Link wouldn't hold that against them. The advice sounded useful, too. He'd half-expected another comment about how, supposedly, a chart showing the location of golden eating utensils was within.

He nodded to himself, pulled out the bomb bag from his messenger bag, and turned to the lion head, which was facing away from him, as it usually did while they were sailing.

"You heard what the fishman said. We're to take out those cannons, and then see what lies inside. You can move without the sail, right? Let's go around the island, and take out the cannons with our own!"

The King of Red Lions bowed his head, and Link took a moment to question whether the man, doubtless used to giving orders, not receiving them, would do as Link asked. But, he began to cut through the sea at a surprising speed, given that he had no visible means of self-propulsion.

Link held out the bomb bag, and a cannon sprouted from the mast-hold. He turned the cannon to face the island, and fired the first shot at the cannon on the wall, before it could shoot them first.

It was tedious, circling the island slowly whilst peppering it with bombs, but at last, they returned to the mouth of the island. Link was sure that they'd hit every last cannon. It was late afternoon, now, and he'd rather be off to the next island, before night could set in, making the island all the more the difficult to find.

They sailed inside, where they saw the steps leading out of the water, across the room. There was a platform cutting the room in half. Half was water; the other half was dry land. Around the walls were large vases—four on each side. In the centre of the platform, near the stairs, was the sign of the triforce on the red background. Before it was the blue rug, where the treasure chest would appear. Straightforward.

Link climbed out of the boat, very much aware that this was the first time that the boat would be present to witness the apparition of the treasure chest, and what producing it entailed.

Perhaps, he'd know better, what significance the "Wind's Requiem" had, but he hadn't said anything thus far. For being as long-winded as he was, he was very taciturn on the most relevant matters. He ought to balance himself out more. Briefer speeches and actual explanations of what they were doing at any given time would not be amiss.

Link stepped onto the triangles—he was strangely sure that he had to stand on them, and pulled out the Wind Waker, glancing back at the watching boat. He guided the wind (if wind it could be; the walls here were so thick that no air could enter save through the doorway), and waited as the treasure chest appeared in the blue circle. He ran around breaking the vases around the edges of the wall, by now expecting the sum of several hundred rupees that they contained, if you added the varying quantities together.

He opened the treasure chest, pulled out the red chart, and whirled around to show it to the King of Red Lions. There seemed to be a need to explain to his audience just what he was doing.

He proceeded to stuff the chart into the messenger bag, and to return to the King of Red Lions, who spoke not a word, but turned around in a slow half-circle, until he was facing the entrance. He slowly glided back out of the tower. It hadn't seemed to take this long, cruising through the Tower of the Gods, but Link wasn't sure that he wasn't merely impatient to discover the mysterious Needle Rock Isle. Not that he said any of this aloud.

They exited the island in silence, and Link clutched the Wind Waker tight. The moment they were outside, and he could feel the wind on his face again, he once more conducted the wind through the "Wind's Requiem", turning to face westward. The island would be located about due west. He suspected.

Despite his best efforts, it was already dark by the time they saw the tall central pillar jutting out of the sea that was located in the centre of the lake that was in the "head" of Needle Rock Isle. By the light of a rising crescent moon, Link could see the kargaroc flying high up ahead. His immediate concern, however, was finding the fishman patrolling the island. But, it seemed that the fishmen were tireless workers, for one swam up to them as he was circling the island.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard," he said, jumping up from the sea and somehow clinging to the side of the boat by one fin. "I take it you want your sea chart filled in? Well, hand it over."

Link obliged, watching as, with rapid strokes of the brush, the shape of a skeleton key appeared on the map. There was even a round circle in the middle of the handle of the key, signifying that pillar the kargaroc was flying around. Link received the sea chart back, and stuffed it into his messenger bag.

"You know, fry, if you're really brave, I'd recommend looking for the chart that's hidden somewhere under this island. They say that there was a man so devoted to the Ghost Ship, after encountering it once, he set out to mark its movements, so that he always knew where it was, every night. Supposedly, it appears regularly, in rotation, in a select few islands, for every phase of the moon. I've seen the thing before, and I've never seen the like. I didn't sleep for a week! Well, that's all the info I've got. Keep an eye out for us, right, fry?"

With that, he gave a nod, and Link nodded back, and then the fishman sank back below the waves, leaving him and the boat alone again.

"Time to find that chart, then," Link said, jumping out of the boat, and running up the steep shoreline onto the grass growing around the lake in a ring. At the tip of the island, he'd already noticed a ring of fire blazing. He decided to head in that direction, first.

Imagine his surprise when he saw a korok—one he didn't know by name, but must have seen at the Deku Tree's ceremony—standing before a withered, shriveled up tree. Nearby, a ring of fire sent absolutely no heat into the air. It surrounded some manner of treasure chest.

"Oh, swordsman! It's good to see you again! I'm Oaken, one of the Deku Tree's koroks. Every year, we travel far and wide across the Great Sea, tending to the Deku Tree's seeds. As the trees grow, the sea begins to recede."

It began making squealing, distressed noises.

"But, this year, something strange has happened. My tree is all withered. And, if my tree is withered, the trees of all my fellow koroks must have withered, too. It must be a blight cast on these seeds by the evil that resided in the Forsaken Fortress…. I don't know what to do. I can't leave my post, but the Deku Tree must know what has happened. Will you go and tell the Deku Tree for me, swordsman?"

The little tree looked very upset, and Link would need to warp back to the Forest Haven at some point, he was almost certain. There were only so many warp points scattered across the sea, and the Ghost Ship doubtless traveled far, and the Triforce pieces would doubtless be as scattered as their charts. At some point, surely, he'd need to return.

And, if he had every chart deciphered, and there was no need to return to the Forest Haven, he'd warp there anyway. It wouldn't take that long to climb the cliff and speak to the Great Deku Tree, and the news was clearly important. It also could probably wait for the few days that it would take for him to find the chart, get it deciphered, and hunt down the Ghost Ship. Probably. Still, he'd better ask.

"Yes, the tree will last for several more days. It will have to. I doubt that there's any cure, unless it's to defeat the evil causing the blight. The Great Deku Tree will know more."

The korok turned back to his tree, staring at it with the most forlorn expression Link had seen on his entire quest.

Link turned his attention to the treasure chest, wondering if it could be the legendary Ghost Ship Chart, but, looking around, he saw no sign as to how he was to enter the ring of fire without being incinerated. Just because it didn't feel hot from this distance didn't mean it wouldn't burn him. He suspected that there was a switch located somewhere at the top of the pillar the kargaroc was circling.

He'd heard that seagulls would do anything for hyoi pears, and that they were very intelligent birds, who understood human speech (the things you learnt from Aryll!), but he didn't have any of the shriveled pears, so he'd have to hope that he was wrong, and that either this treasure chest wasn't what he was looking for, or that there was a way to put out the fire hidden elsewhere on the island. Seagulls weren't active in the middle of the night, anyway.

He ran back down towards the ring around the lake, and began to make a circuit of it. As he did, he almost stumbled into a hole in the ground, hidden from what little moonlight shone down from above by tall trees flanking it. He'd stepped around the first tree, and barely noticed the hole in time.

Well, everything else important seemed to be located in holes in the ground these days, so why not a chart to a ship with a chart to a legendary artefact?

There was probably some spiritual significance to the sudden ubiquity of all these holes—something silly like venturing deeper into yourself to discover your true potential. It was the sort of thing he'd heard in Sturgeon's stories, growing up—morality tales about conquering heroes. And then, Sturgeon wondered why he'd spent so much time with Orca, learning how to fight.

Link leapt into the hole, and was surprised when no yellow light appeared to gently guide him down. Instead, an odd, springy bed broke his fall. The way up would be to latch onto the trees he could barely see above him with his hookshot. But then, how had whoever had hidden the chart here left, if the hookshot was hidden in the temple?

He shivered, thinking of ghosts and haunted ships. Perhaps, he hadn't left.

Link glanced around the room, but it was almost completely dark. He had no choice but to pull out a fire arrow, and shoot it at something at random. Or possibly, to walk forwards in the dark, until he found something that it was safe to burn, and risk injuring himself in the darkness, or being assailed by monsters without being able to tell what was going on.

What to do? He stood there, pulled out the messenger bag, setting it down carefully before him after confirming that there was ground there, by reaching out and feeling around with his hands. He pulled out the bow and replaced the messenger bag into his pocket.

Then, he began to crawl slowly forwards on his hands and knees, hoping that his lower position would make him harder for monsters to see, if they could see in the dark. Every now and then, he paused to listen, straining his already sensitive ears for any sound other than his own.

He came to a slight, raised mound in the ground. His hand hit on something that felt organic—wood, or straw, something with a prickly, dense sort of structure to it. That should be flammable. His hands reached up, and up, as he felt his way up to a metal frame, and within that frame, something gritty, like ashes. Hmmm….

Link stood up, pulled an arrow from the quiver, and clamped his hand around the arrowhead. As he did, he filled his mind with thoughts of fire, and then he took his hand off the arrowhead, and thrust the arrow into the brazier. The torch flared to life, and he saw a sign to his right. It was old, and worn, and he could barely make out the faded lettering, even with the torchlight.

"Light the six torches and dive down to the sea floor. Guide the lost spirit of the boat that forever wanders in darkness."

He shivered. That sounded like the ghost ship, alright. But, what did the message mean?

Peering through the room around him, it was difficult to see very far, even by the bright light of the torch next him. He moved forward, away from the light, into dimmer surroundings. There was a railing in front of him, and through the bars that comprised it, another torch could be seen. He pulled out an arrow, and took careful aim through the wooden bars.

Surprisingly, said railing did not catch fire as the fire arrow passed through it, hitting the fuel piled onto the brazier, lighting the first (or second?) of the six torches. This second torch shone with an impressive amount of light for a single torch, illuminating the furthest reaches of the cave. He could see, if only faintly at the dimmer edges, two more torches, on what looked to be a shipwreck.

There was one in the crow's nest, and one on the upper deck—in what might have been the prow of the ship.

On his side of the rail, there was a torch to his left, around what looked to be the bow of another ship, and to the right, behind what must be the rigging of a third. He could climb that rigging, he decided. He had to get to the other side of the wooden rail, somehow, and he couldn't slip through the holes between the posts of the rail, nor climb over them—the posts were too thick for him to gain purchase, and he'd never learnt rock climbing. Perhaps he should have, but he doubted anyone could climb that smooth wood.

He headed for the rigging, surprised when the ropes held his weight, and he was able to make his way up the ropes onto the deck of the ship to his right. There was a torch on the prow, fairly easy to reach. He fired an arrow at that torch, first, and then turned to the ship that was to the left of the entrance.

What was this place, the home of all ships lost at sea? How were there any shipwrecks at all, beneath an island?

He shook his head, concentrating on fire, and took aim, but did not fire, at the torch across the room from him. There was a railing around the prow of the ship he stood on.

He couldn't get past the mysterious shipless railing that had barred his progress before. But, with the added light of this third torch (but was it the second, or was it the third of the six torches that he was supposed to light?), he could see that the left-hand ship had a broken railing around a prow that jutted up high enough that he could probably use the Deku Leaf to sail across to the third ship.

Oh, this was going to use so much magic. He'd be drained to…didn't the Deku Tree say something about magic drawing on life energy after you used up your magic energy? Well then, it would probably kill him. How fitting. At least he had some green potion left. He'd need it. He just hoped that he had enough.

Reconsidering the matter, he settled the fire arrow back into his quiver, lowering the bow.

He took out the hookshot, and considered. Were torches the sorts of things that a hookshot could latch onto?

He aimed at the mysterious wooden railing, at the top, and rotated the disc, sending the chain shooting out. It hit the wood, with a clang, and the chain curved back around in a hook shape as it fell to the floor. He released the grip on the disc, and the chain retracted again. Not the wooden railing, then.

Next, he tried the bow of the other ship. Again, the hook hit, and the chain bent back in a loop, falling to the ground. He lifted his thumb off the disc, again, and the chain retracted. He took aim at the unlit brazier on the second ship, and tried a third time. It caught.

He lifted his thumb off the disc and was pulled towards the brazier. The hookshot deposited him safe on the deck, and he sighed.

He took aim with the bow at the brazier he had just used to reach this point, hoping he wouldn't have to use the hookshot to come back up here. He'd prefer to avoid getting burnt. Hmm…maybe he'd leave it for later, then.

He used the hole in the railing around the deck to climb onto said railing. From his new vantage point, he could see another torch, down below, to the left of the rigging that connected this ship to the third ship, the one he hadn't been to yet. This seemed to be his last chance to light the torch he'd used to get here before heading to the third shipwreck. He found his old fire arrow easily, drew, hit the torch, and turned back to the one between the second and third shipwrecks, trying not to think about how he'd get back with the torch near him lit. There had to be a way to leave this place safely. Maybe.

He fired at the torch where it lay in the sand, below, and then put away the bow, and pulled out the Deku Leaf. He could feel how drained his magic already was. Fire arrows seemed to take a lot out of him, but the Deku Leaf was a constant pulling drain. His arms were worn out regardless of how much magic he had left. They just couldn't take the strain of supporting his entire body for so long. There had to be a way to use the Deku Leaf's innate magic to redistribute his weight. He frowned, focused on that goal, and leapt off the railing, hoping for the best.

His arms did seem a bit less tired than usual when he alit on the deck of the third ship a couple of minutes later. But, he'd had to keep his focus fixated upon that goal, bending his whole will to it, and concentrating much less on his surroundings and destination than he liked.

He shrugged. Perhaps, with practice, he would improve. Quite a gift, the Leaf the Deku Tree had given him.

He looked around him. There was a torch on the deck of the ship, near where he landed. He aimed at it, and shuddered. Alright, he thought, as his arms shook. He was feeling a bit weaker than usual in general. He pulled out the messenger bag, withdrew the green potion, and braced himself. It didn't taste that bad, really. But, there was a distinct, grassy aftertaste that had him grimacing nonetheless.

At least now, magic was coursing through him again. His hands were still shaking, however. He gave himself a few seconds to rest, and then, with an arrow full of fire, turned to aim the bow at the nearer torch.

He'd now lit six torches, but he knew that there was one in the crow's nest, behind him. It was very far away. He wasn't sure that he could hit it on his first try. Well, he'd just have to try again, then.

He clenched his hands over a seventh arrow, took aim, fired, missed, pulled out another, fired, missed, correcting his aim each time. He withdrew a third arrow, gritted his teeth, and fired a third time.

There! That one took! He smiled, putting the bow away, and watched as the hatch to below decks opened behind him.

What?

Well, he supposed that the chart must be down there, somewhere.

He ran down into the darkness of the ship, and paused when his feet struck water. He was still on the stairs leading down. Just whither was he headed, and what, precisely was he looking for? He suspected that he'd already passed by the captain's cabin.

He wished that he had a light. Well, the sign said "dive down to the sea floor". That was underwater, so maybe….

He sighed, and continued walking down into the water. He could hold his breath, even through exertion, for a decent amount of time. It had occasionally disturbed Sturgeon, not to speak of Aryll and his grandmother. He'd always been able to, however. He didn't question it, and it seemed useful, now.

When the water was deep enough, he began to swim forwards, until he hit a wall. He wished that he could see where he was going.

The wall that his hand hit was to his left, and thus he continued to the right. He'd have to dive, somewhere.

He swam along the wall, and then along another wall, and then along the back wall, and then along the stairs by which he entered. Right. Well, at least he now knew the rough size of the room. That was a start.

He swam to the middle of the room, and dove.

The water in here was surprisingly deep. Somehow, the cave must connect to the greater water body of the Great Sea. His hand touched metal, like the chest he had dragged up with the grappling hook. He wished that he had a winch, here and now. He should drag the treasure chest to somewhere less…wet…before opening it. Then again, even the stairs were flooded, and he doubted that treasure chests were waterproof.

He tugged on the handle, and found that the chest was almost as heavy as the one that had rocked the boat, above. Stricken by sudden inspiration, he swam back to the stairs, and pulled out the iron boots. This would give him enough traction to push the chest. Of course, he'd drown if he couldn't move it far enough in time. He'd probably have to keep careful track of how much longer he thought he could hold his breath, and keep returning to the stairs. Why couldn't things be easy?

He pulled on the iron boots, and trudged back under the water towards the centre of the room. There were quite a few more steps than he'd anticipated, and the water was deep, completely covering his head, and then some. He stomped over to the treasure chest, relying on his sense of space to tell him where it was, and began to pull on it by the handle. He gave himself plenty of time to backtrack to the steps.

He pulled off the boots, standing at the bottom of the stairs, and tossed them up the stairs, surfaced, and then swam up the stairs, following the boots. They'd landed somewhere in the unsubmerged part of the ship. He pulled them back on, and sat there for a few seconds, catching his breath. Then, he stomped back below the water again.

It took at least ten more tries before he reached the stairs, and another ten to drag the chest up the steps. He'd had to find a way to keep it from sliding back down the stairs, carried by its weight back to the bottom. Thankfully, he had the rope of the grappling hook. He already knew that it could support that weight.

Eventually, the chest was far enough out of the water that Link felt that it would not ruin the map if he opened it.

He couldn't, naturally, see what was inside, but he reached in, and pulled out… a rolled up scroll, which glowed blue. In the faint light, he could see the wall in front of him—part of it, at least, and the wall next to him, and the rotten, hole-ridden stairs. Maybe it was a good thing that he hadn't been able to see the room at all, before?

He pulled out his messenger bag, and then paused. No, it made a lot more sense to wait until he got out of the below decks of the ship before he put the chart away. He really liked being able to see his surroundings.

The air seemed somehow cleaner and fresher outside of the ship. Perhaps, it was how vast and open the cavern was, or perhaps it was the fact that it wasn't flooded with water, and he could see where he was putting his feet. He felt the tension in his chest ease. It seemed easier to breathe.

Well, he had the Ghost Ship Chart. He could look at it, outside. He'd probably been down here longer than he thought.

He sailed back across the gap, over the impassable railing, (partly to prove to himself that it could be done), and returned to the hole through which he had entered, already pulling out the hookshot.

It was surprisingly difficult to aim for those trees from this angle, but he managed it after a couple of tries, and the hookshot brought him, at last, back into true open air.

The moon had been a crescent when he'd entered. Now, however, it was a half-moon. And, it was setting.

He'd been in there for over a day?!

He was no longer dripping like a wet dog, at least, by the time he reached the King of Red Lions. He had never truly appreciated before how good it felt to be dry. He ran around the ring to the King of Red Lions, who was yawning.

"That took quite some time!" the King snapped. "I trust that you accomplished what you needed to get done?"

Link pulled out the Ghost Ship Chart, and saw a number of islands drawn on it, arranged in a circle, separated from one another by lines, like slices of pie. Next them, sketched in, like the numbers of a clock, were the phases of the moon.

One of the "slices" was glowing—and so was the half-moon drawn next it. He didn't recognise that island—and it wasn't labeled—but he did recognise Greatfish Isle, the island where he'd found the first piece of the Triforce, and what looked to be a Great Fairy island. This one was facing to the west, so, judging by the fairy island he'd already found, this one was the Eastern Fairy Island. It would be at Greatfish Island in…a week. Great.

Well, in the meantime, he knew what he'd be doing. He still had to find that cannon ship that had the penultimate triforce chart, and see Tingle to get the charts he'd discovered deciphered, not to mention pull up the pieces from the sea floor. And, speak to the Deku Tree. He had plenty that he could do in that time.

There was a sign standing near the King of Red Lions. It said "this way to Western Fairy Island."

It was pointing north. Hadn't they passed such an island, on the way to the Forsaken Fortress the last time? He thought that he could faintly remember a purple spiraling shell rising up out of the sea, as they sailed past. He could definitely use the rest, and whatever the Great Fairy would do to help him would be much appreciated. Suppose that he sailed north, and then south?

He pulled out the Wind Waker.

Predictably, it took an entire day just to find the elusive island. After all, because he'd seen it once, he'd thought he'd be able to find it again, with ease. This turned out to be false. Eventually, however, they came to it, and the fishman jumped out of the water.

"You know, fry, there used to be a Great Fairy living in the water near Two-Eye Reef. (That's the reef in the grid-square due east of Headstone Island—do you know where that is? Good.) But, I've heard she hasn't been seen recently…and there's supposed to be a Big Octo in the area. Oh no! Did it eat her!? I hope not. I've heard she uses a lot of magic to live underwater like that. She'd probably be willing to teach you how to use magic, too… that is, if she hasn't been eaten!"

With that, the fishman leapt back into the water, without even saying his farewells. It was quite abrupt, and for a minute, Link sat there, blinking, as he stared over the side of the boat at nothing in particular.

But, as Western Fairy Island approached, he snapped out of his mini-stupor, and stood up, stepping out of the boat onto the shore as they pulled up to it, and glancing around the small island. Yep, there was the violet shell-house, just as he thought he remembered it.

Of course, sailing by, he hadn't realised that it was barred off by those wooden beams he had seen on the other island. These were crossed, one over the other, unlike the others, that had been nailed straight across.

He pulled out the bow, first, and fired an arrow at the wood, but, as was inexplicably the case in the cave containing the three sunken ships, the wood did not catch fire. Next, Link pulled out the hammer, and pounded it with slow, but strong blows.

He tried the Master Sword, next, although there was something sacrilegious about making such usage of a sacred sword. Not that it availed him; the beams remained intact.

He was interrupted from his attempts to open the door by the crackle of electricity. He whirled around to see a blue electric chuchu approaching him. Weren't these supposed to be rare? Then again, he was traveling all over the Great Sea. Perhaps, they seemed more common than they were.

He stunned it with the boomerang, pulled out the bombs while he was at it, and hacked unceremoniously at the enemy with the Master Sword. He put yet another glob of chu jelly in the bottle he had reserved for just that purpose, and then broke the cap off the end of the bomb he was holding, and threw it at the door, catching the boomerang, and stowing both bomb bag and boomerang back into his messenger bag as he did.

When the smoke cleared, he saw that nothing remained of the wooden beams except the nails surrounding small fragments of wood still clinging to the edges of the door. Just why were these fountains barricaded off, anyway? He had the feeling that it was so that he could only access them when ready. And, didn't that seem the height of conceit?

Perhaps, he should ask a Great Fairy. But, none of them had commented, themselves. Perhaps, Ganon had barricaded them in here, and they were unaware. In that case, asking them would not avail him. In the end, as long as no harm came of destroying the barriers, it didn't matter what the answer was. He set the question aside. He could always ask them, later.

For now, his first priority was collecting the shards of the Triforce, and this fairy was nearby.

Within, of course, everything was as with the other fountains, but tinged violet. The fairy herself had pink hair, and wore a pale pink dress. The flower she withdrew, after her introductory speech, eerily similar to that of her fellows, with a few changes of phrases ("Young Waker of the Winds. I will increase the size of your bomb bag so that you can carry more bombs. Allow me to aid you in your quest."), was also pink. She disappeared in a pink flash of light, and a multitude of fairies appeared in the spring. As the light disappeared, he heard her voice call out the exact same words that the other great fairies had spoken as they vanished. It was as if they were all working off the same script.

He was still contemplating the matter when he arrived back at the boat. Absently redirecting the wind via "Wind's Requiem", he considered the mystery of the great fairies as he fell asleep.

He awoke the next morning, disoriented. He had no idea where on the Great Sea they were. He hadn't expected to fall asleep, either, which, when he thought about it, was rather stupid of him. He should at least have told the King of Red Lions their destination.

"What grid-square do you suppose we're on?" he asked, yawning as he began to come awake. The King of Red Lions, still sailing at a good pace, bent his head forwards, towards the water, and then pulled in the sail, which furled itself around the mast post before retreating into the mast-hold. The momentum kept the boat moving forwards for the moment.

"If you look to your left, towards the rising sun, but ahead of us aways, you can faintly see your home-island of Outset Island. I therefore suspect we are somewhere northwest of that island, but very near to it. Perhaps A-5 or A-6."

"According to my chart, we're looking for cannon ships somewhere on A-6," Link said, frowning. Just how was he supposed to find a small ship in the wide, wide sea? How could he even be sure they were in the right general area? "Maybe we should turn around. If we can see Outset that clearly, we've probably gone too far. Keep an eye out for cannon ships."

This was shaping up to be a tedious part of the quest. And, it was tedious. Despite keeping both of their eyes peeled, it took at least three days to find the cannon ships, which patrolled in a triangle…somewhere. Link wasn't too clear on where, exactly, they were, as he had fallen asleep several times over their extended search. He couldn't afford to fall behind on sleep, now could he?

What to do once they had found the ships was a second mystery. If the chart were inside one of them, was it in a treasure chest, or was it lying loose within that opening? If they sank the ship, they would probably lose their chance at acquiring the chart, either way.

Instead, Link aimed the cannon at those of each of the ships in turn, taking out the weaponry before jumping from the side of the King of Red Lions, and swimming over to the boats. Fortunately, these were unmanned, and he was able to crawl up onto the decks, and enter the small storage chamber within.

He found that there was nothing in there at all. Once he had confirmed this to himself, he moved onto the next ship, and then the third. Frowning when each ship was revealed to be empty inside, he swam back to the King of Red Lions to confer.

Then, he remembered that there were bars in dungeons that rose only when every enemy was defeated. Perhaps, it was something similar at work here.

He pulled out the bomb bag, again, and began to shoot at the ships once more. Sure enough, when the last of the three went under, a patch of light shone before them. The King set off towards that light without a word, as Link put away the bomb bag and pulled out the grappling hook. He hoped that the map wasn't ruined on account of being underwater.

Thankfully, it was inside one of those flat-topped red chests with the handles. The chest was apparently more waterproof than it looked, because Link found, when he opened the lid, that the chart inside was completely dry.

That was something. Now, he had every chart but one—the one that lay hidden inside the Ghost Ship. He pulled out the Ghost Ship Chart, staring at the diagram. According to the chart, tonight the Ghost Ship would be somewhere… near an island in the shape of a crescent moon? Was that some sort of mistake? Was there really an island that resembled a crescent moon?

"Ah, yes," said the King, when Link voiced the concern that maybe the man who drew this map had grown a bit…confused…as he made the map. "Crescent Island is located just north of Windfall. It's shaped very much like a crescent moon. Wrong colour, however. It is a very small, low island—difficult to spot from a distance, but I know where it is."

The Ghost Ship, however, was probably not on the island itself. All that Link needed to know was that the island pictured was both real, and located north of Windfall. According to his map, Windfall was at almost the edge of the northernmost reaches of the Great Sea. There was only a single row of grid-squares north of it, after all. Windfall was located fairly far to the north of its square, so the crescent-shaped island's area wouldn't be hard to find. Once there, he could reach the Ghost Ship.

There were still a few hours until sunset, but he didn't know how long it would take merely to reach the waters where the ship appeared. It should be somewhere within sight of the Crescent Island. If he set sail from Windfall now, he would maximise his chances of finding the Ghost Ship. Probably.

He pulled out the Wind Waker, and warped to Windfall. Thence, he sailed north, keeping a lookout for the low-lying island, but not expecting to see it.

They were still sailing when the sun set. Even as it set, Link kept turning around in the boat, looking for any looming shape resembling a ship. He still remembered the image as it appeared on Tingle's well-drawn chart. It had square sails—two of them—and was long, and narrow, if he could judge from a picture alone. It looked ordinary on the chart, other than being blue—nothing a fish would fear, he suspected. That suggested that something was missing from the picture.

They almost grounded themselves on the Crescent Island, but the King of Red Lions had been watching, and had withdrawn the sail in time. Link blinked, looked around, and noticed a blue chuchu approaching, crackling with electricity. What would it hurt?

He jumped ship, pulled out the boomerang, and Aryll's telescope. He made sure to throw the boomerang, and hold the telescope. He was in a state of some distraction, after all.

Now, he walked towards the stunned chuchu, and whacked away at it. Then, he saw the second electric blue chuchu approach. The boomerang was still hovering in the air before him, so he threw it again.

He stabbed the chuchu, and then dragged the Master Sword down its length, and set to filling his bottle with chu jelly.

Once he had replaced the bottle, he put everything away, but for Aryll's telescope, which he raised to look at his surroundings. He didn't know what he was looking for, but hoped that he would know it when he saw it.

And at last, there it was, an eerie shimmer of hundreds of glowing blue orbs, surrounding a hazy shape, which was obscured by its own personal, localised fog. He could just make out part of the glowing blue mast through the dampening (blue) fog.

He turned to face the same direction as the telescope, and then lowered it. Northwest. West-northwest, rather. It couldn't be too far off, because he could see it now, knowing what he was looking for, even with the telescope lowered. Occasionally, a tall wave would obstruct his view, but it would pass. The problem was all that fog, and the storm cloud overhead that served to darken the area around the Ghost Ship. It made it more difficult to see. But, he'd use those clouds as a primary marker.

He returned to the scowling King of Red Lions with specific directions on whither to head. He wasn't going to bother asking Zephos to change the direction of the wind—here, it might be better if they had a bit of a lag to their speed.

They sailed at what was still a very good pace, racing away from the Crescent Island. As they sailed, the seas grew choppier, and the waves taller. Then, it began to rain. Link kept his eyes trained on the storm cloud overhead, and then he looked down, below it, as it grew progressively more distinct. The ship was still difficult to see, but it was much nearer now, and he could make out the rigging and the mast, and the crow's nest, so like the one that had carried the sixth torch, down below.

The Ghost Ship chart had everything the artist knew about the ship—except for any depiction of the ship's appearance. Perhaps, he had trusted the surroundings in which he had hidden his chart to tell any seekers what to expect in that quarter. There was no one to ask.

Link watched the ship grow closer and closer, as the air grew colder and colder. He began to shiver, in the clothes that Aryll had told him looked as though they would be much too hot. These clothes were insufficient for protecting him from the unearthly chill of the Ghost Ship.

He saw no sign of crew—no lookout in the crow's nest, no helmsman at the rudder, no captain giving orders. Despite this, the craft reminded him of Tetra's pirate ship. He wished that she were here to see it. What would she think of the eerie, smaller replica of her ship?

When they were near enough, he jumped out of the King of Red Lions boat without a second thought, swimming against the waves, grabbing onto the side of the Ship, clinging to the cracks between its constituent boards, as he crawled up.

There was still no sign of inhabitants. He stepped onto the deck, surprised at how solid the boards felt underfoot, and looked around.

He noticed the great door leading to below decks first, and then the unmanned tiller at the helm. He pulled out the telescope to confirm that the crow's nest was empty. He put the telescope away, feeling rather as if this had just confirmed something else for him. He needed to go below decks.

He walked over to the sturdy door, ignoring the pitching of the ship in the rough waters to pull at the great iron door-ring. Beyond, the lower decks were lit with wall sconces, emitting an eerie blue light, and no heat whatever. Although the clouds overhead had not provided for it any of their threatened rain, the chill of death permeated the ship—especially here, within its interior, where there were not even the hints of an outside world filled with warmth and light, and, in only a few hours—how untrue that seemed at the moment!—sunlight and dawn.

He approached the captain's cabin, but his progress was halted by the sudden appearance of a poe. How did you fight them, with no sunlight available?

A patch of moonlight shone down near the wall sconces, alighting on a strange white flower. Both flower and moonbeam seemed to glow with equal amounts of light. Link hoped that moonlight had the same effect as sunlight on poes, and pulled the mirror shield off his back, heading to the hidden patch of light.

Thankfully, it worked. He knew he'd been taking a chance, but what other option had there been? Perhaps, there was something else he could have done. He should have asked Zelda while he could.

Once the poe turned solid, he rushed it, nodding to himself at the observation that, as expected, it was blue, with a white mask, and wearing black gloves, with that red spiral design on its chest. Just like the other poes that weren't pieces of Jalhalla.

He slashed at it twice, and it shredded like cloth. He waited for anything else to appear, and then headed for the cabin.

Inside was a strangely familiar room. There was a four-poster bed against the wall, an armoire behind it in the far-left corner, and paintings ranged around the walls. There was a table in the near-left corner, and a vanity on the far-right wall, next to an open chest filled with women's clothing.

That was all that he had time to take in about the room before a stalfos approached, wielding a greatsword two-handed. Unlike the ones in the Earth Temple, this stalfos lacked a ponytail—or a mace. It had the remnants of tattered clothing hanging from its bones. Some sort of bluish pants, and a white shirt. Further into the room, Link noticed two lumbering walking corpses, previously hidden by the furniture.

He drew the Master Sword, facing off against the stalfos first. He slashed at the monster as it approached, aiming for the head, but with alarming speed, it moved to intercept the sword. He leapt backwards, through the door, one ear listening to the low eerie moaning of the shambling corpses, and one eye tracking their slow progress across the room.

He backtracked along the landing of the stairs, unwilling to venture into areas he hadn't already explored. The last thing he needed was for another foe to catch him unawares. The open space gave the monster more room to swing the greatsword, which was an unfortunate sacrifice, but necessary. Link kept on the defensive, waiting for an opening that he could exploit.

Unfortunately, the greatsword had greater reach than did the Master Sword. He swiftly realised that he would have to take a chance. He jumped to the side, and rolled forwards, managing to briefly gain access to the monster's back. He dragged the Master Sword up through the ribcage to the head, splitting through the crucial skull on his upward slice. That had not been easy.

The first of the two walking corpses had reached the entrance to the cabin while he had been fighting the stalfos. He braced himself, and then rushed it. It latched onto him, as he flailed, trying to detach its tight grip. With every second that passed, he could feel his life draining away. He'd really need some red potion after this.

If he survived, that was.

Finally, he managed to shake it off, throwing it into the wall. But the thing, for all that it resembled a shriveled human cadaver, didn't seem to have any bones to break, and it was right back on its feet, lumbering towards him.

Shine light on the living dead, said a high-pitched voice in his mind, and he made for the patch of moonlight, obeying without question. He pulled off the mirror shield, and focused a beam of light onto the corpse. Slowly, it stopped moving, even as the second one emerged through the doorway.

With a cry of frustration, driven to distraction (and terrified, if he were honest), he redirected the light at the second monster, hoping the effects would last, and manoeuvred himself to be behind the first, so that if it was reawakened by injury, as he rather suspected it would be, it would at least have to turn around before leeching off him again.

He slashed at it ruthlessly with the Master Sword, keeping one eye on the other monster, which was beginning to turn brown again. He didn't give it the chance to revive. He stabbed and sliced at it repeatedly from behind. The monsters didn't seem to have any particular weak spot. They fell when they were too full of holes to properly function anymore. Just one more disturbing thing about them—like the fact that they didn't vanish in puffs of black smoke. Although, come to think of it, that strange stalfos hadn't, either.

Link waited for more monsters to appear, and then returned to the captain's cabin, and paused again, on alert. He made a perimeter of the room, just in case, and then sat down on the (creaky, but still very comfortable) bed, pulling out the red potion. He downed half of the bottle before he stopped feeling woozy and light-headed. He sat there for a few seconds, composing himself, and then stood, steeling himself for whatever he might find below.

As he sat there, recovering, he took the opportunity to examine the paintings lining the walls. One was of a woman with long black hair, wearing a long white frilly dress and a stern expression. At her left side was girt a triangular sword, which, like her dress, looked highly ornamental. A familiar chevron-shaped necklace hung around her neck.

Another painting—unsurprising, after that first—depicted a familiar scene. A giant black monster resembling a pig with bright red hair wielded twin swords, but a figure sheathed in blue light, his back turned to the audience, blocked both the swords with one. Around them stood a burning wasteland. Concerning the figure wreathed in blue, little could be seen, save that he wore green—including a green hat. Link reached for his own, self-conscious.

A third picture was a sketch of three individuals, their features indistinct, with many lines drawn over one another—different shapes for eyes, noses, mouths, hair, and even ears. In the back of the picture, standing on the triangle at the apex of the Triforce, was a man with green skin, and bright red hair, in dark, leathern armour. His eyes glowed a fiery red. Alone among the three figures, he was unarmed.

The second figure stood in the lower left. Her hair was long, and filled with every hue of blonde, as if the artist, unwilling to risk being wrong, knowing only that his subject was blonde, had bent himself to the task of incorporating every shade and hue of blonde that a human could have. Her eyes were a glassy blue. She wore white gloves, and a white dress with a bright pink bodice, but there was a faint sketch overlaid on the skirt of the dress. She clutched a golden bow, arrow notched and shining in her hands. Her face, in all its forms, was drawn and haggard. She looked as if something had eaten away at a once-spirited individual, and Link's heart went out to her.

Zelda…. And, that meant that the third figure was….

Like the Princess, the Hero of Time's vague features were set into a drawn expression of weary determination. Something had chipped away at his strength, leaving him somehow fainter than the other two. He clutched the self-same Master Sword in his hands, with a shield facing away from the audience in his right hand. It came to a point at the top, and, if Link could judge only from the back, was made of wood covered by a sheet of steel. Two straps on the back provided a secure grip. Link suspected that this was supposed to be the same shield that the Hero bore in the statue beneath the waves.

Suddenly, Link felt as if he couldn't remain in the room for a moment later, and stood, turning on his heel resolutely, with new determination.

For Zelda!

There were no monsters on the stairs, but the hold was filled with more odd greatsword-wielding stalfoi (each appearing out of nowhere), and far too many walking corpses. He stood on the ledge above the hold, taking careful aim at each of the shambling brown monsters with arrowheads filled with fire. There was no point in conserving magic—not with how much immediate danger the corpses presented. He knew he wouldn't have lasted much longer if he hadn't managed to shake that last one off.

Once the hold was empty of redead, he jumped down into the pit, glancing at the ladder hanging from the ceiling in the same spot where Niko had waited for him—on Tetra's pirate ship.

Why did they look so similar?

As he roamed the perimeter of the hold, he was periodically stopped by the sudden appearance of a stalfos bearing a greatsword. He was slightly more cautious and confident, knowing that at least he was only up against a stalfos, rather than having to consider the other monsters. The key to defeating these seemed to be to get behind them, or somehow impale their skulls with the Master Sword. This was always easier said than done. They were far less predictable than the darknuts.

He knew that he had defeated the last stalfos when the ladder dropped down, providing a way up to the next, and final, room. If the ghost ship chart wasn't there, then where could it be? He'd have to search the captain's cabin.

He climbed up the sturdy wooden ladder, and peered into the room beyond. He saw nothing.

He walked through the door, and noticed a ball of blue light in the middle of the room. As he came closer, it resolved itself into a more-or-less familiar form: a short man, with a blue cap, buckteeth, and a red-and-white striped shirt. He was transparent, but rocked with the motion of the ship. One of the ghosts? Why did he so resemble Niko?

For a sudden, horrible moment, Link had the thought that there had been some sort of disaster on the sea, and Tetra's ship had been wrecked, and all aboard killed. His stomach clenched at the thought—he had left Aryll there for safekeeping. Then, he remembered that the Ghost Ship had been around for long enough for rumours about it to spread across the Great Sea—for a man long dead to make a map of it. What, then, the answer?

"Are you our liberator?" asked a voice, somehow strangely distant. Although the man's mouth did not move, Link had the sense that it was coming from the man before him.

"Er—I guess?" asked Link. He wasn't even sure who this ghost was, or if he was good or evil. The voice was similar to that of Niko, but pitched lower, the words smoother, less harsh to the ears.

The pirate(?) nodded.

"Head up to speak with the captain. She's in her quarters. She'll tell you what to do."

The ghost faded out into a blue ball, and Link took one step back, and then another.

Down below, in the hold, were two more balls of light. As he approached, he saw that one had glasses and carried a book, while the other wore blue, and had dark hair, a square jaw, and a close-cropped beard. He did not stop to examine them more closely.

He ran back up the stairs. A blue ball of light next the cabin's doors turned into a broad-chested man in an orange bandanna. He had shoulder-length black hair, and wore a blue shirt.

"Y'here to see the captain, stranger?" asked the man. His voice seemed in turns rough and harsh, his speech by turns polished and informal. Link nodded, although he still wasn't sure, himself.

"Go on in, then," said the man, bowing.

Link privately wondered if he were going to meet Tetra's duplicate next.

Inside, a woman was bent over maps at the table. She was so close to the door that, if she were usually visible as a blue ball of light, it had already resolved itself into her ghostly figure by the time Link had come close enough to open the door.

She was tall, and somehow imposing, even sitting down. Her black hair came to her shoulders. She wore a long jacket with a stiff-looking collar. Link wasn't sure, but he thought that it had once been blue. Her pants were white. Her eyes were dark green, and he felt himself immobilised by the sudden intensity as her gaze landed on him.

"You saved us," she said, her voice a breathy murmur, a gentle breeze on a summer's day. So very, very faint. "Thank you, Great Hero."

Link felt himself turn roughly the same colour as red potion. He'd never been mistaken for anything like that before.

"I'm not—" he began, but she cut him off.

"You seek for the shards of your shattered Triforce of Courage," she said, still in that breathy murmur. "My ship was lost at sea hundreds of years ago, but the descendants of my crew and me yet live. I am Princess Zelda Lusin, Penta. I did not know my true name while I still lived, for that knowledge had already been lost. My daughter, Zelda Aventa Setta survived, and that is all that mattered to me when I died….

"But, my crew and I, we promised that we would return to Windfall. Every night, however, we find ourselves in a new and unfamiliar patch of seas. Our ship is thronged by monsters, against whom we cannot fight, lacking physical forms.

"You saved us, Great Hero. And, in return, we will give you the chart leading to the Triforce. I have one request to make, however. Please guide our ship back to Windfall, where my daughter is buried. I would keep my promise to return to her. For centuries, we have wandered these wide seas. Please, lay this curst ship to rest, and ease our regrets. Will you do this for us?"

Link hung his head. What else could he do—refuse the last request of a woman long dead? If he left, he'd never get that chart to the Triforce, but there was more to it than that. This poor beleaguered crew (the ancestors of Tetra's pirates?!) had sailed these seas for centuries without rest. They deserved to rest in peace. And, Windfall Island was not that far away.

"I will," he said, lifting his head to meet her eyes. "Only tell me how to guide this boat back home. I don't have much experience with sailing a big pirate ship."

Zelda smiled back at him. Despite her height, she seemed to diminish to human size.

"Come with me to the deck. I must see if Lizo has any idea where we are."

She stood, unfolding long legs. She was fully as tall as Link, and several years his senior. She moved with confidence and poise (grace) and Link thought that she seemed very much a princess from a fairytale, for all that she had a cutlass girt at her side.

He followed her out the cabin's doors, not noticing the guard's salute, and back out into the cloudy air.

"We were just north of Windfall Island—on Crescent Island," he offered the captain. She nodded in acknowledgement, and turned to yell up the crow's nest, in a voice very reminiscent of Tetra.

"Hey, Lizo, see anything you recognise?" she yelled. Her voice was breathy and faint, even in a yell, but Lizo must have heard her, for he called back a faint reply.

"Either Windfall has stopped using its lighthouse, or we are too far away to see it," a wispy voice called back.

Zelda folded her arms, leaning backwards, and peering around the ship, as if for inspiration.

"Just sail south," Link said, with a tired sigh. He saw a blue light up by the tiller, which was some relief.

"And how are we to know in which direction that lies? I don't suppose the Ghost Ship always appears facing the same direction. Even if it did, we were turned around even before we were wrecked."

"I always know what direction I'm facing in," Link said, shrugging. "I don't know if ghost ships need the wind to sail, but I might be able to give you a strong wind in the proper direction."

Something bright shimmered in the princess's eyes. He turned away, pulling out the Wind Waker.

He guided the wind along the "Wind's Requiem", as the pirate captain watched with bright, curious eyes. He knew that she wanted to ask him more about the baton, and how it was able to control the wind, but suspected that she believed that she had already demanded rather a lot from him.

"Great Hero, what—?" she asked, as if she couldn't help herself.

He spun to the south, pointing in that direction with his right hand. He felt the wind adjust its course around him, and he nodded to her. "That direction," he said, and the pirate princess gave him a nod, running towards the man at the tiller, who probably resembled Gonzo. He was the most conspicuous pirate missing an ancestor.

"I tried to tell you, I'm not the Great Hero. I'm just—"

He sighed, as she scrambled away, up the ladder. It wasn't worth trying to correct her. Let her think that she was saved by the Hero of Time. It might even be true, commented his infuriating inner voice.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: The Deepest Tower

They arrived at Windfall sometime near dawn. He disembarked first, hoping that the King of Red Lions had been able to keep up with their journey. At the time, he was forced to admit, he hadn't been thinking very clearly. He'd only realised when they came into port that he couldn't ride the Ghost Ship back to Crescent Island. It was, after all, a ghost of a ship. Once it had completed its voyage, that was it for the ship. It dissipated even as they put in at Windfall.

He stood there on the pier, flanked by ghosts of varying sizes and ages. Each of them bowed to him, one by one. The last of them was the pirate captain, who curtseyed instead, before reaching into the pocket of her longcoat, pulling out a familiar red chart with the triple triangles upon it. In her hands, it looked wispy and indistinct as she was, but she offered it to him, and he took it.

As he pulled it from her grasp, she smiled, and nodded, turning to lead her crew up the path to the cemetery. When he looked back down, the map was solid and real as any of the others.

Link nodded to himself, and struck up along the other path, heading back for the alchemist's shop. He needed more potions, unfortunately, even though he knew that he wouldn't be confronting Ganon again until the Triforce was whole once more. And, just whither had that piece he had dredged up from the sea gone, anyway?

He needed to do something while he waited for the King of Red Lions to arrive. But, he had some faith in the boat's ability to find him again.

He'd forgotten about the communication stone, again. Then, the King of Red Lions's voice blared in his ears, demanding to know just where he was and what he had done. Did he have to answer to this man?

Apparently. He gave a terse, succinct explanation of what had happened since they had parted ways, finishing by explaining that he was running low on certain supplies, anyway, and he should be finished by the time the King of Red Lions arrived.

Of course, Link ended up falling asleep on the shore before the King of Red Lions arrived. He'd had a very long, very eventful night. He felt no need to make excuses for himself. Indeed, he felt he had greater cause for complaint than did the King of Red Lions.

He means well, Link reminded himself with a sigh. Only, he's quite as distracted by the thought of what might happen to Zelda as I.

He acknowledged this fact to himself, and deliberately met the King of Red Lions with a serious, but not confrontational, set to his face. They needed to work together.

"I've got the final chart. We can go back to Tingle Island, now."

The sun was, by now, high overhead. He was sure that Zelda and her crew of pirates had made it to the cemetery before the sun had risen. If they hadn't, he paused to wonder, what would happen? Would they reappear the same night on shore, or would the ship again be lost, adrift somewhere far out to sea? He would just have to assume they'd made it.

He pulled out the baton, and climbed into the boat, wasting no time in warping back to Tingle's Island. The quest was almost finished.

Nothing about collecting the remaining shards of the Triforce was as exciting as collecting the last chart had been. He noted that the Ghost Ship Triforce chart showed the location of a triforce piece in the sea near Outset Island, and that another one showed a piece near Greatfish. It was intriguing, how the same islands seemed to come into prominence repeatedly.

And, no matter how closely he watched Tingle, he couldn't figure out how the man translated those charts. It was some sort of spell, but the magic wasn't in the words. Was it in the gestures? Link was stumped. Presumably, it was merely a way of concentrating knowledge into an object, and using magic to scribble all over it, replacing the original images with more comprehensible ones. Or something. Link couldn't make any sense of it. He rather suspected that this was because Tingle was a true cartographer, and Link could only read maps.

He pulled up the piece located in the reef south of Southern Fairy Island first, taking the opportunity to find the Big Octo, defeat it, and rescue the Great Fairy living in the waters nearby, just as the fishman had recommended, back near Western Fairy Island. She had increased his magic reserves, as promised, and restored his magic energy while she was at it.

Despite her location in the middle of the sea, the experience was suspiciously similar to that he had had with the other great fairies. This one had green hair, green eyes, and a green dress, and disappeared in a flash of green light, leaving nothing behind to show that she had ever been there. Nevertheless, the words she spoke were almost identical to those spoken by the Great Fairy who lived on Outset Island.

He was starting to believe that they got together and came up with some sort of universal script: what to say if Link Sylvanus, the Waker of the Winds, ever shows up. There might be Great Fairies elsewhere on the seas who would never get a chance to recite their lines. He took a moment to pity them, before sailing for Four-Eye Reef.

Once again, the area where the chest lay lit up as he approached, once again he opened the chest, saw the piece of the Triforce lying within, and once again, it vanished as soon as he touched it. He became accustomed to that, as he collected the rest of the pieces. He decided that if the King of Red Lions didn't care, neither did he. The King must know something (again) that he didn't.

The last piece of the Triforce he retrieved was the one located to the northeast of the main island of the Forest Haven. He climbed up into the Great Deku Tree's springs, before even looking for the guiding light, and explained the request and predicament of the korok that he had encountered on Needle Rock Isle.

"It is true, what Oaken said," said The Deku Tree, with a heavy sigh, his usual jovial face downcast. "Only the defeat of Ganon could hope to end the curse created by that man. In the meantime, Forest Water—the purified water that flows around my roots—might help, but you would have to sprinkle it on all of the trees before the water turned into regular water. It would take about a week, and in that time, you might otherwise have put an end to the curse at its source.

"Nevertheless, I thank you for your tidings, and frank words, although they are of little comfort for me. If all else fails, do not despair—only the trees planted this year shall be harmed by this shared blight. It will set back a year our efforts to drain away the Great Sea, but a tree is patient, and can wait. Make the defeat of Ganon your priority. I am sure that Hollo will offer you whatever assistance he is able."

Link bowed, thanked the tree, and did indeed stop to make a request for blue potion of Hollo before he went back outside, climbing back down the many cliffs and falls to where the King of Red Lions lay waiting.

For once, the King, seeing Link's expression, did not make a comment.

Less than an hour later, they pulled the final piece of the Triforce from the sea floor, and Link, with a wary glance at the King of Red Lions, reached in to touch the last piece.

This time, it vanished in a flash of bright light, and his left hand began to ache. He took a moment to consider whether these two facts were related, decided that they must be, and scowled at the King of Red Lions (who, after all, could not see him) for his continued secret-keeping.

"And now, we shall return to the Land beneath the Waves," said the King, in a good humour. Link, obedient, pulled out the Wind Waker, and warped them to the Tower of The Gods. Cyclos's winds obliged, setting them down just outside the arcade.

As they sailed back into the circle, the King of Red Lions turned his neck around to face Link.

"Hold up your hand to show the goddesses that you now possess the Triforce of Courage, and they will open the way!" he cried, and Link's brows furrowed in confusion. But, there was no other way to learn what The King meant than to do as he had instructed. Link held up his left hand, palm facing out, to the Tower, and light shone from his hand—bright green. Before him, the yellow ring of light appeared once more.

"Ah. The Goddesses recognise you as the Hero of Winds. Every hero needs a title, after all, and you guide and control the winds around you, with the help of the baton, and the Wind Gods."

And, just how did he know about that title? They sailed forwards, as Link speculated, until they were so close, they could hear the hum of the magic of the circle.

The King turned back to Link, asking a silent question, and Link gave a tight nod, staring at the light.

The King of Red Lions entered the circle, and they sank down, down, down.

Stricken by a sudden sense of impending doom, a sudden keen sense, as if he had appeared suddenly into pitched combat, Link leapt from the side of the boat, and landed in the shallow waters of the stilled fountain. Without pausing to explain, he ran up the steps, into the hall.

The statue of the Hero of Time lay toppled and broken, detached from its plinth. As he'd half-expected, Ganon had been and gone. Link climbed across the floor, hindered by the rubble strewn across the hall (surely there hadn't been this much masonry, before), and climbed up the walls, over the railing, and landed on the plinth of the statue's pedestal.

He leapt to the ground, and began pushing the plinth aside. His stomach twisted in on itself as he tried not to consider what he might find, in the sacred chamber of the Master Sword.

What he found, was nothing. Zelda had gone, but other than that, the room looked untouched. Then, a translucent figure with bright red hair and sideburns materialised behind the pedestal of the Master Sword, his face split into a disturbing grin.

"Ah. The little hero returns, too late! I have already captured his princess. It was foolish to leave her here, below—so near to my kingdom, I could visit any time I liked. But, I waited for you. I wanted to be sure that this time, I got my hands on all three pieces of the Triforce!

"Already, I am extracting the Triforce of Wisdom from Zelda. The process may kill her. If you want to save her, you'll have to defeat me. I will be in my tower. You'll find it past the barrier, on the far side of the hall from where you entered. I won't wait for you, little hero. Be there—unless you want the girl's death on your conscience!"

He grinned at the sight of Link, standing there, fists tight clenched, and then he faded out. Well, there was nothing else for it. Link would have to enter Ganon's Tower, make his way through the inevitable traps as fast as he could, and rescue Zelda. He owed her that. It was his fault, anyway, leaving her below.

He ran back up the steps, across the hall, through the open doorway, until he came to the barrier that had stopped him before. He narrowed his eyes, and drew the Master Sword. Nothing else that he possessed might even possibly be of use against this wall.

Sure enough, a few good blows and the barrier shattered in the manner of glass, falling in panes around him, disappearing before it could hurt him. He strode through the space formerly occupied by the barrier.

Beyond it, the bridge (the old castle walkway) was in much worse repair. There were crumbling columns and archways, and gaps in the walkway leading down into a ravine. He kept his eyes fixed forwards, pausing only to withdraw the boomerang to take out the peahats milling about. He could afford no distractions.

He easily followed the path beyond the walkway (it was, mercifully, outside the ravine), as it wended its way between two hills, heading for a tall black tower. That must be his destination.

Along the road to the tower, in a broader area almost a valley, two moblins waited for him. They were the usual, brown, spear-wielding moblins from the world above. While he was wary of their spears, it was good to know that Ganon hadn't sent out some never-before-seen foe to intercept him.

He drew the Master Sword, and the shield, immediately raising the shield to block the swipe of the first moblin, and pushed the spear up and away, before lunging at it while the spear was still raised, leaving it open for attack.

The Master Sword, revived by the joint prayers of Medli and Makar, cut through the moblin with surprising ease. Even the first cut penetrated deep.

He sliced right, and then sliced left, and the moblin disappeared in a puff of smoke. His eyes widened at the sight of how quickly he had been able to defeat the monster, but he swiftly redirected his attention to the second moblin, mindful that he did not have as much time as he was accustomed to. This knowledge made him a bit less cautious than he otherwise would have been.

He ducked under a blow, and then leapt at the moblin, swinging the sword up. The added weight cut right through the moblin's torso, and it condensed into black smoke, as he had expected.

Without pausing to rest, he continued on to the black tower looming ahead.

It was a very tall tower, he couldn't help noticing as he approached. It was broad enough to be a castle's keep, and covered in sharp protrusions—spikes ranged the railings around it, and jutted out around the roofs of every floor. There was no spire at the top, however; Link couldn't see what manner of roof the tower had, but a spire he would have seen from a distance. Now, he was too close, and the tower too tall.

Before him, a great hole stood in the middle of the walls, a square stone archway leading into the tower.

There was nothing else for it. He didn't even know his ultimate destination. But, it was no different from any other dungeon—only the stakes were higher, as the boss controlling the monsters within was the same evil of legend, and he held Zelda captive.

Link ran into the tower, and reached into his pocket for the communication stone. Maybe he ought to have done this before, but he assumed (subconsciously) that the stone would only work if he were in a dungeon. There was no justification for this, but it had been the assumption that had led to him not even trying to contact Zelda as he'd searched for the charts and Triforce pieces. Perhaps, that had been a mistake.

"Zelda!" he cried, bending all of his will to the thought, as he looked around the tower, eyes unseeing. The entrance chamber was big, and had three doors, each set into the far side of the room: one to the left, one to the right, and one dead ahead. He focused even harder on the communication stone, clearing his mind of everything but Zelda. "Zelda!"

Still nothing. Either she had lost the communication stone when Ganon had kidnapped her, or she was (for whatever reason) unable to respond. In his mind, he could think of only one plausible reason that she would not respond, if she had not lost the stone. His hands tightened into fists, crushing the communication stone, which took the opportunity to remind him that it had a pointy end.

Link stared at the doors before him, putting the stone into his pocket. The centre door was most likely, but it was barred. Time to head for one of the other two doors, then.

He chose the door on the right, first. He turned the black doorknob, opening the door to find a room with a ledge, and then, almost immediately, an abyss that filled the rest of the room, surrounded by a semicircular wall. As he watched, the four torches (one each in each corner of the room) lit, one by one. The sequence was odd, and Link fixed his attention upon the lighting torches, memorising the order.

First was the torch near him, on the left. Then was the torch on the wall over the abyss—on the far side of the room, to his right. Then was the torch on the far left. Finally, the torch near him, on the right. Near left, far right, far left, near right. He was sure that he'd need this knowledge, later, and muttered the words repeatedly to himself, lest he forget.

He waited for anything else to happen, as he muttered to himself. Then he walked to the edge, and peered down into the darkness. He couldn't see what lay down there.

He shrugged, opened the door, and walked back into the main chamber. Next, was the door to the left.

Within were two moblins, again. Now that he knew that the Master Sword could make short work of them, he threw caution to the winds, launching a violent assault against them. It occurred to him that it had been the first time that he'd treated moblins as ordinary enemies—and they weren't miniboss material anymore, were they? At some point, had he become more competent without realising it? Or was it the superior power of the Master Sword, enabling him to appear better than he was?

In the end, it didn't matter. All that mattered was whether or not the bars leading to the next room off the main chamber were raised or not.

Sure enough, somehow, defeating those moblins had raised the bars. He twisted the doorknob, and walked into the next room, which was a staircase, leading up. He hoped that there weren't too many of these.

At the top of the stairs was another door. This one, too, had a black doorknob. He twisted it and entered, to find himself in another chamber, this one with two darknuts in it. Perhaps, Ganon had the number two on his mind when designing the tower (thinking of the lost pieces of the Triforce, perhaps?)

Darknuts were not that intimidating even when he had had the powerless Master Sword. With it and the Triforce of Courage in his hand (but what did the Triforce of Courage do? Did it have hidden abilities that he could access?), the darknuts were simple to dispatch.

The bars rose on the door on the far side of the room, and he continued on into the next room, which was another staircase, winding up. The door at the top of the staircase led to another room with an abyss in it, this one without torches. When he peered over the ledge, he noticed no difference between this abyss and the one he had encountered in the first room, down below.

But, there must be some sort of difference, and there was no other way forwards. He would have to take a chance. He pulled out the Deku Leaf, just in case, and leapt into the abyss.

There was a point in which he couldn't see anything, and his eyes seemed to be filled with darkness, that he wondered if he hadn't made a mistake. Then, solid ground came into view beneath him, and he raised the Deku Leaf over his head to break his fall. He landed on his feet a few seconds later, and put away the Deku Leaf.

Was it just him, or was it darker in this chamber than it had been in the one above the "abyss"?

The room was round, just like the ones with the abysses in them, but there were neither torches nor switches. All there was was a door—in roughly the same area of the room as the door had been in the other two rooms.

This door did not have a doorknob. He looked at it, pushed at it, and then sighed, hands on his hips. "Open," he told it, and it obliged, sliding into the sides of the walls next to it, and then back to cover the doorway once he had passed through.

A row of iron bars slid down from the lintel to block the door, which was his first and only warning before the ball of yellow light almost hit him. He rolled to the side, grabbing the hilt of the Master Sword as he rose to his feet, already on the lookout for whatever foe had attacked him.

And there, floating in the air in the darkness above the chamber, was Phantom Ganon. His curved sword was drawn, but his hand was raised, already forming another ball of yellow light. Link took in the room quickly, noticing the most important fact: there were pillars that could block the attacks about to be sent back and forth from him to Phantom Ganon. The room was large, and circular, and had far too many doors leading out of it. There were at least five of them.

Well, he didn't intend to run for any of them—and they were all barred, anyway. Still, it must be important, the way they were arranged around the perimeter of the room, evenly spaced with the door through which he had entered counting for a sixth door. If he got turned around in this room, it would be easy to get lost.

He swung the Master Sword at the approaching ball of light just as it was about to hit him, and it changed colour to green, and headed back to Phantom Ganon. This battle seemed far, far too familiar.

Phantom Ganon sent the attack back to him, and they spent the next thirty seconds sending the orb of light back and forth, before Phantom Ganon failed to react quite in time. He disappeared in a haze of black mist, like the Ghost Ship, and the sword fell, its hilt falling so that it just happened to point to one of the doors.

Or maybe not by accident. Perhaps, the sword was somehow connected to Phantom Ganon, and knew where its wielder was at any given moment.

The most important thing was: it was pointing to a door. Link didn't know what way to go. Following the hilt of a sword was as good a means as any other of deciding.

He walked through the door to the far right from where he was standing, following the hilt. It was another of the doors that needed to be told to open. He suspected that the rest of the doors in Ganon's Tower would be the same.

Phantom Ganon, sword somehow retrieved, was waiting for Link.

He sighed, and drew the Master Sword, jumping to the side in time to avoid the attack. Was it just him, or was this room identical to the previous?

Oh. Oh, that explained everything. With a hundred duplicates of that room, he could easily become permanently lost in this place. He'd just have to keep following Phantom Ganon, and hope that there was some sort of secret passage, and that he could find it by chasing down a boss. Not the best choice, but what else could he do?

He really hoped there weren't a hundred duplicates of Phantom Ganon to go with all of these duplicate rooms. Because if there were….

Well, he didn't want to finish that sentence.

When Phantom Ganon next attacked, he sent another ball of light towards Link, who deflected it back almost unthinking.

Once more, when Phantom Ganon faltered, and the ball of light hit, he dissipated, leaving behind a sword. The hilt fell facing to the northeast—in the far right from the door through which Link had entered.

For want of a better plan, Link followed the direction in which it pointed, and entered the third, identical chamber. Was this the same Phantom Ganon, regenerating infinitely, or were there a hundred fragments of the boss scattered throughout this maze? He shrugged, as he waited for the ball of green light to return to Phantom Ganon. He'd known to expect the boss the moment he'd entered the room, and had entered with sword drawn and at the ready. Phantom Ganon did not seem to have anticipated that.

Eventually, after they'd exchanged the ball of colour-changing light ten or so times (Link had decided to count, and the number was actually twelve), it hit Phantom Ganon, and he vanished in a swirl of black smoke. A beam of light fell from the air where Phantom Ganon had floated, as did the sword, which pointed to the door to the north. As Link approached the beam of light, it resolved itself into an arrow of silver encased in bright light.

Link stared at the arrow of light, trying to figure out what made the least amount of sense: that a light arrow had spontaneously appeared out of nowhere miles beneath the sea, that Phantom Ganon had somehow been carrying it in his pocket, and it had fallen out, or… yeah, Link didn't know what the third option was, but he was sure that it had to make more sense than the previous two. He picked up the light arrow, and pulled out the messenger bag, withdrawing the bow, if only to put the arrow away in the quiver.

The moment Link touched the arrow, Zelda's face appeared in his mind's eye. She held out a hand to him, wordless—or rather, saying something inaudible, speaking words that he couldn't hear. Knowledge filled him—that these arrows were much the same as the fire and ice arrows. He could make them himself. They ate up more of his magical energy, but they were formed in the same way that the other two kinds of arrows were.

He followed Phantom Ganon into the next room, not bothering to put away the bow. He had an idea.

What if all of this were an illusion, created by Phantom Ganon? If he defeated the boss, the illusion should be ended, too. And, he had the sense that Phantom Ganon would be vulnerable to arrows of light.

He took aim at the air overhead, ducking behind one of the columns, and aiming for the chest of Phantom Ganon.

He let fly the arrow, and it hit, and Phantom Ganon sank to the floor, as it had back on the Forsaken Fortress. Link dropped the bow, ran over, and, drawing the Master Sword, hacked away at the boss.

Eventually it recovered, and Link retreated back behind his column, picking up the bow, and withdrawing another arrow from the quiver, clenching his hand over it, filling it with light.

He shot at the boss again, hit, dropped the bow, and ran back over to hack at it with the Master Sword.

He retreated again when Phantom Ganon took to the air again, picking up the bow, and firing for the third time.

This time, Phantom Ganon, sword and all, dissipated into a puff of black smoke, leaving nothing behind. Around him, doors lining the walls vanished, leaving him with only one—the door in the centre of the far side of the room (the door to the north, straight across from that through which he had entered).

On the other side of said door was another circular room, with what looked to be a bottomless pit encircled by the wall. He wondered if this one were like the one above. The room looked identical to the one through which he had first entered this floor (or area). Perhaps, it would function just the same. There was, most likely, no other way to go but down. He had prior experience with these gaps to suggest that there was unseen ground somewhere below the darkness.

Without pausing to consider the matter further, he leapt into the hole.

Once he had passed through the dark floor, he saw below him a vast room, the area he stood on a ledge sticking up out of a lake of lava. From this platform, a bridge connected to what seemed to be a central axis, with five other bridges raying out from it. The result was a design a bit (ironically) like a snowflake. Straight ahead, across two bridges, was a ledge with a huge door. There were four other doors, one at the end of the other four bridges shooting diagonally from the central platform. Other than that, there was no further clue or guide as to what he ought to do.

He kept a lookout for keese and other enemies as he ran across the bridge to the central platform. Thence, he approached the great door that lay straight ahead. He could already see that it was divided into four panels by an "x". Some sort of designs were engraved into the door, in each of the four panels formed by the two lines running across it.

Coming closer, he thought first that the engraved designs looked familiar. The one in the upper right corner was of a mask, for instance. The one below it was in the shape of two wide flapping jaws. On the left-hand column was a shriveled-looking face with twin pincers, and below that, a conspicuous flower, vines trailing from it. Jalhalla, Molgerra, Gohma, and Kalle Demos. No symbol for Gohdan, of course, but, for some reason, none for the Helmaroc King, either.

And, if the door matched the room around it….

Link turned his back on the door to look at the four bridges leading from the main platform. The one close by, and to the left, probably led to Jalhalla. The one close by, and to his right, probably led to Gohma. Of course, it was also possible that the nearer left-hand bridge led to Kalle Demos, in which case, the nearer right-hand bridge led to Molgerra. However, Link suspected that the door, the engravings of which could have been seen from the centre of the room, especially if he'd brought out Aryll's telescope, was probably arranged in a way that mimicked the layout of the room. But, maybe, there would be images on the other doors, to help guide him.

Really, he wouldn't have approached this door, if he hadn't harboured hope that the door was already accessible. He half-heartedly commanded it to open, and pushed at it, but was unsurprised when neither worked. There was nothing else for it but to go through each of the doors. Probably, this meant fighting the bosses again.

The boss which he had found most difficult the first time around had probably been Jalhalla—and then, he'd had Zelda to watch out for him. Now, he was alone. He'd start with Jalhalla.

He ran back across the bridge, and ran across the first bridge on the left. The door was engraved with the symbol of a mask. Link was right.

"Open", he told it, but instead, the world seemed to fade out, and to go grey. Now, he was in a colourless world, as Hyrule Castle had been before he'd drawn the Master Sword. And oh, he recognised this room. He was well-acquainted with the spikes jutting out of the walls, and the mysterious patch of sunlight shining grey light onto the floor. And, there was Jalhalla, holding their lantern, which they shook, laughing, sending gusts of flame at him.

He ran for the beam of light, shining it on Jalhalla until they regained solidity, and went to lift the boss. He threw Jalhalla at the pillar, and Jalhalla broke down into four poes. Link could tell they were different colours only because some seemed slightly darker than the others, though the masks and gloves remained identical. At least there were only four. He could wonder why that was, of course, but he was inclined to just be thankful, and not to question his good fortune.

If these were, for instance, taken from his own memories of events, maybe his knowledge that he had at last prevailed somehow imposed limits upon the boss. If it were made by magic, perhaps the magic that had first created Jalhalla had not yet replenished enough to create a greater number of poes. He was certain that, whatever the reason for Jalhalla's weakness, Ganon had intended for them to be fully as tough and dangerous as they had been when Link had first encountered them.

He sliced through the last of the poes, which was probably yellow, and the world went fuzzy, and faded out to white, and then he was standing before the great door again, and the engraved symbol to the upper right was now glowing.

Ah. That was how it was going to be, then.

He turned back around, remembering his experiences with the remaining three bosses. The next greatest threat had been Kalle Demos. He'd need to take out the bosses that posed the greatest threat first—they'd use the most energy, and he'd need to be at his best to avoid getting injured. He hoped that Kalle Demos was, for whatever reasons, weaker than the one he had fought before.

He walked to the door on the far left of the great door, commanding that it open. Once again, the world faded out, and he found himself in a monochromatic mirror of the Forbidden Woods. Only, there was no mist to be found, at all. Kalle Demos clung to the ceiling, and Link reached into his messenger bag to pull out the bow.

He paused (despite knowing how foolish that was!) when he reached into the messenger bag, and did not find the bow. Nor was the hookshot there. He reached for the boomerang, relaxing only when he saw it clenched in his hand. Electricity crackled behind him, and he dropped the bag to roll forwards, taking careful aim at the tentacles up above holding Kalle Demos to the ceiling. Where was the rest of his equipment? Had he gone back in time, somehow? The grey….

As he watched the boomerang, he backtracked, picking up the messenger bag to stow it back into his pocket. The boomerang returned to him, and Kalle Demos plummeted to the ground. Link ran forwards towards the shell-shaped seed, drawing the Master Sword as he did. Alright, so much for that theory.

He hacked at the seed with the Master Sword, which quailed before the legendary blade, and cut the stalk. The world once more faded into whiteness, and he again found himself standing before the centre door. Now, the symbol to the bottom left was also glowing.

He stopped, then and there, to remove his messenger bag, and fumble around for the hookshot and the bow, which he replaced. He took a quick inventory of his possessions before deciding to continue.

He headed for Molgerra's door next. Who knew how he would do without Zelda's assistance? Furthermore, his experiences with Molgerra were comparatively recent. This meant that he would have improved little to not at all since their last confrontation. At least these iterations of the bosses were weaker than their real counterparts.

The moment he told the door to open, the world faded out, again, and he found himself in the same sandpit of before, which looked rather odd in black and white. The sand could almost have been salt, it was so pale and colourless.

Link pulled out the hookshot, waiting for Molgerra to appear behind him, which fact was signalled by his feet sinking down towards its gaping flaps of jaws, and rotated the disc, letting go in time for the tongue (or whatever that was), to be drawn towards him. He hacked through it, steadily, with the Master Sword.

Then, he was back before the central door, and three of the four panels were glowing. All that remained was Gohma. He nodded to himself, running for Gohma's door.

Lava, he discovered, looked even stranger than sand, when you removed all colour from it. It was as if colour itself were an integral and defining property of lava.

He peered at the ceiling above him, and tilted his head, watching Valoo's swinging tail with interest. How…?

No, on second thought, it was doubtless better not to ask. Instead, he reached into his messenger bag for the grappling hook, running along the edge, and keeping a close eye on those pincers, as the shriveled face of Gohma tracked his every movement.

He threw the grappling hook, and it wrapped itself around Valoo's tail. Judging by Gohma's appearance, it was still protected by its armour, meaning it was important to break that first. It might have been easier if he could have just used the bow, or even the hookshot, but they were both mysteriously missing again. He swung to one of the wooden shelves located at about pincer level, landing heavily, but rolling. The slab of rock Gohma had shoved under Valoo fell on it, cracking its armour.

He shrugged, aiming for Valoo's tail again, already.

He swung across, to another high shelf, and aimed again for the sky spirit's tail. Once it caught, he swung himself to another high shelf. The final slab of rock destroyed Gohma's armour, making it faster.

Link dropped down from the higher shelves, and waited for Gohma to expose its weakness. At last, it overextended itself, slamming its pincers down at Link, who dodged them, leaping for the unprotected eye with the Master Sword.

The Master Sword was truly a formidable weapon. A single blow from the sword had the insect reeling back, and then sinking back into the lava, as the world faded into whiteness.

The final design on the door glowed with rainbow colours, and likewise the crossed lines dividing the panels. Link stood before the door, considering it.

"Open," he ordered it, and it slid aside easily, revealing the circular room that lay beyond. It was a strangely familiar sight—four deactivated switches, two hanging from the wall on the far side of the room, because an abyss covered most of the floor.

He reached for the boomerang, throwing it at the switch on the far side of the room (on the right), and hitting the nearer, left-hand switch with the Master Sword. The boomerang returned to him after hitting the second switch, and he threw it again, at the switch on the wall to the left, and then ran over to the switch on the ledge to his right, waiting for the switch on the far left to activate before hitting the nearer switch with his sword.

All four of the switches glowed blue, showing that they had been activated, and something seemed to peel itself away from the abyss in a film. However, when that black film dissolved, the abyss looked just as it had before. Had he accomplished anything at all? He had to assume that he had.

He went over to the edge, and peered down into the darkness, but, as usual, he could see nothing below. But, he had once again reached a point where there was no other path but to jump into an abyss, and by now, he had plenty of cause to think that, as long as he kept the Deku Leaf handy, he would come to no harm.

He jumped off the ledge, and when he had fallen through the dark barrier, and was able to see the room in which he now found himself, he saw that there was a shallow pool of water beneath him. He whipped out the Deku Leaf to slow his descent, and then let go one side, landing with a splash that soaked his trousers up to his knees.

There was a pool of water, and a door in the middle of the wall to his left. The room was circular, and most of the floor was underwater. There were two semicircles of stone around the room, bisected by a canal of still water. As he stared around, a red shape emerged from a dark hole in the wall, through which the canal water must enter this room. He drew the Master Sword, and then paused, recognising the form.

It was the King of Red Lions.

"Ah, here we are," said the King. "I have been searching everywhere for a way into Ganon's Tower, with the help of Cyclos, but even he couldn't find the way in. Then, suddenly, a path opened for us! Now, here I am. While before, you were cut off from the gods, they are now able to hear your prayers. If worse comes to worst, and you need more supplies, or to beat a hasty retreat, you can climb into the boat, and warp us back to the world above. Do not do this lightly, however, for although I am confident that I can lead you back through this entrance, it does not do to delay when lives hang in the balance."

As if Link needed to be told that.

"What, you're just going to wait here for me?"

The boat nodded. "Do not forget that I, too, possess a communication stone," he said, and Link blushed scarlet, remembering how desperate he had been to connect to Zelda. If the King of Red Lions's mental ears were permanently damaged from that, it served him right for making such a foolish plan to begin with.

He turned towards the only door of the room, nodding to the King as he did.

"Are you continuing? Then, good luck, Sylvanus. May the goddesses three watch over you."

Then The King yawned, and his neck curved, swanlike, and Link could see that the boat was on the verge of sleep. Link shook his head, walking to the door.

"Open," he said, walking into the next staircase chamber.

There was a certain finality in the purple carpet leading up a flight of winding spiral steps. Link couldn't quite place it, but he sensed that he was almost at the end of the trials that Ganon had prepared for him.

He climbed, always on the lookout for more foes. At the top of the staircase was an ornate door decorated with red and gold. He stared at it, and then frowned. "Open," he told it, and it obligingly rose into the ceiling, slamming behind him as he passed. Bars shot down from the doorframe to cover the entrance.

Before him was a circular room, much broader around than the ones with abysses, and with shelves located high up. He suspected that he could latch onto something on the stone ledge with his hookshot, and that he would want to do that as soon as possible. But first, he looked around the room, his eyes right away landing on a giant black mass huddled in the centre of the room.

It had triangular ears, and flabby cheeks, with bulky muscles in its arms and legs. It was, at the moment, slumped over in a seated position, but even as Link pulled out the messenger bag, now filled with a sense of imminent danger, blue cords attached to various points of its body rose towards the ceiling, and grew taut, and the figure floated in the air, motions jerky, like the Fairy Queen, like a marionette.

There was a blue-green bubble each in the crooks of its elbows. They seemed almost to be glowing, which made them conspicuous targets. They were probably the boss's weakness, but how to exploit it? Something with which he could attack from a distance… the arrows of light!

But first, he pulled out the hookshot, aiming for a strange ring of three concentric circles on the edge of one of the platforms. The hookshot drew him to the ledge, speeding him past the swiping claws of the puppet. He clung to the ledge, and pulled himself up, already reaching into the messenger bag for the bow, well aware that even this small ledge was not outside Ganon's puppet's reach.

He clenched a fist around an arrow, thinking of light, and then set it to the string, aiming for the left elbow. The arm dropped when stricken, as if the string had been cut. He took careful aim, even still, and fired another arrow filled with light at the crook of the second elbow. That arm, too, flopped uselessly at the side, and Link jumped down into the pit below, looking for any other conspicuous area.

Now, he saw that the marionette had a tail, and that it had a bright blue-green bulb at the end.

The Ganon Puppet kicked feebly at him with one leg at a time, but he took aim, and fired at the tail from a very close range. He could feel the drain on his magic caused by his use of the light arrows, which seemed to consume a great deal more magical energy than any other technique he'd used thus far. Several times more than the other arrows, if he could guess. It wasn't draining his life force, yet, but that was coming. Good thing he still had some green potion.

As the tail drooped on the ground, Link grabbed the Master Sword, and, noticing that the tail was still glowing, hacked fiercely at the ball at the end of it, trying to break the bubble.

Instead, he was forced to make a hasty retreat, when the tail and arms began to rise, reconnected to their respective strings. At least he'd got in a few good hits!

He used the hookshot to climb up another of the room's lower ledges, and put the hookshot away again, withdrawing the bow. He took swift aim at the crook of an elbow, fired, took aim at the other, fired, and then leapt down. From here, he could see Ganon's drooping tail, so he hacked at the wounds he had already inflicted, chiseling deeper into the scratches he had already made.

Suddenly, the glass shattered, and Ganon rose into the air, and Link thought for a moment that he had won, before the body of the marionette reshaped itself into a bulky, bulbous body, with eight jointed legs. There was, however, a weak point. The eyes of the face were made of smaller versions of the bubbles in the crooks of Puppet Ganon's elbows.

Link used the hookshot to scale yet another ledge, and drew out the bow. He clenched his hand in a fist around the arrowhead, thinking of light, and then fired at the left eye. When he hit his target, he was already sighting the second arrow. He fired again, and then jumped once more from his sort-of-safe ledge. The tail, complete with restored bubble, drooped behind Puppet Ganon, and Link drew the Master Sword, to hack at it once more.

He was still on the ground, when Puppet Ganon rose into the air, crackling with yellow light. As he watched, it compressed into itself for a final time, each limb drawing into the body, compacting, forming very round bulges, one connected to the other.

Link withdrew the hookshot, shoving the bow back into his messenger bag, and taking in Puppet Ganon's latest transformation in between stowing his supplies, and using the hookshot to climb onto what was likely the same platform he had started with.

After he pulled himself up onto the ledge, he watched the swift transformation, as he smashed the vases, restoring his supplies of magic with magic potions, curing his fatigue with heart ones, and shoving more arrows into his quiver. This latest transformation was more extreme than the previous, and took longer. When it was finished, however, a long, cordlike body, with a blue-green bubble at the end, began to run aimlessly around the room.

This included running over the walls, of course. The ledge had never felt less safe and secure, but Link knew that the floor was no better. He drew the bow, and clenched his fist around another arrowhead, and aimed for the end of the tail.

With that speed, easier said than done. His routine of withdrawing an arrow, clamping his fist around its head, fitting it to the bow, sighting briefly, and shooting (and usually missing) the winding final form, felt slow, by comparison. However, he did sometimes hit. He had the feeling that this form was blind, and somewhat uncontrollable, which were the only reasons it hadn't already crushed him.

Of course, it also seemed to be a rather mindless beast. Possibly, it was being inexpertly controlled by Ganon. Why else use a marionette—and unlike the second form, there was no tangle of limbs to hide that this form had a blue cord stretching up into the roof, before disappearing—not becoming too far away to see, or blocked by some high-up object, but faded out, as if it were the ghost of a cord.

As he analysed the erratic movements of Puppet Ganon, he began to relax, and settle into the rhythm of battle. Eventually, he hit the tail for a third time. Puppet Ganon once more condensed into a ball of light (Link tensed, readying himself as best he could for a fourth form), this time returning to its original, piglike form, before exploding into little blue lights. Puppet Ganon was gone!

The drain he felt in his body was marked. He wasted no time, but set right to hunting down some more magic potions. He used the hookshot to climb up to a second ledge, still looking for recovery potions, and more alert than usual, with energy pumping through him, on account of the last batch that he had consumed.

That was when a deep, cruel voice echoed through the chamber, once more. Link had no trouble recognising it.

"What?! You defeated my shadow?! Oohh—! Link Sylvanus! If you wish to save your princess, then meet me on the roof of this tower. Climb this rope, and make your way up. We will settle this, once and for all, there!"

His voice rang with solemn promise, a sworn vow. Turning around, Link saw the blue rope dangling down from the ceiling, high above.

How could he make his way to the roof? Dared he to trust the rope that Ganon had provided to support his weight? But, at least he could see both ends of the rope—how it looped around some sort of pole, high overhead. It wasn't as though Ganon were holding the pole, or the rope, himself. Link'd done more reckless things than to use such a rope, and it wasn't as if there were a better, safer way forward. He might have climbed via the shelves, but they were at unhelpful angles relative to one another—he could see the concentric rings of platforms across the room, but when he aimed with the hookshot, the chain fell short of the mark.

Rope it was, then. The only way to get to the rope was via the floor. He finished replenishing his magic, and arrows, and leapt back down to the floor, before beginning to climb the rope, one hand over the other, up towards the ceiling.

The rope did not extend as far as he'd believed, before it stopped near a ledge, high up above. Looking down, he could see the second circle of ledges, far below him. His arms complained of the strain, as he pulled himself onto the rod supporting the rope, crawling carefully onto the platform, to which the rod was attached.

A hidden platform appeared underfoot, as it filled the hole leading to the room below, through which he had entered. The blue rope was swift hidden from view.

Now, a series of ledges led up, each "decorated" with its own design of concentric circles. He set to climbing from one to the next via the hookshot.

Slowly, the ceiling of the room came nearer and nearer, until he stood on what he realised was not just another ledge, but rather a gaping doorway, leading to another staircase leading up.

He pulled himself into the doorway, and ran for the stairs, but jumped in surprise when that disembodied voice, which sounded much closer, and cleaner, than before, spoke again, seemingly near his ear.

"Yes, I thought as much. Well done, Link Sylvanus! You have done well indeed to make your way up here, and I can admire that. Surely, you must be the Hero of Time, reborn…. I will not underestimate you, this time!"

What? What was Ganon talking about? He had admired Link's defeat of the puppet and his perilous climb upwards? He, too, thought that Link was the Hero of Time's reincarnation? What was going on?

Link sought in vain for another vase to smash, both because his arms ached, and because he felt the need to vent his frustration upon something—ideally, a monster, but something without the capacity for feeling pain would also do.

He stood there for a moment, breathing heavy, trying to regain his lost calm. But, there was no time for that. Zelda awaited…somewhere. He had to save her. He picked himself up from a crouch on the floor, and began to run up the stairs.

At the other side of the stairs was another door. He didn't even take a moment to consider what to do now, merely tersely commanding that it open, before running through.

He did not find himself on the roof. He didn't mind, however, because he'd found something much better than the man who had kidnapped Aryll.

He'd found Zelda.

The room he was in was fairly small, and very empty, except for another open square archway, with a staircase leading up, lying to the left. Zelda herself lay on a richly decorated bed, the wooden frame emblazoned with the sign of the Triforce on the sides.

He ran to her bedside, praying fervently that she be safe and well. Please, let him wake her, that they might leave this place. Please, let her still be alive.

He knelt at her bedside, observing how natural Zelda looked, sleeping peacefully, her lips curved into something like a smile, her brows relaxed. Her hands were crossed over her chest, each hand on the opposite shoulder, lending a funerary air to the scene, but making it easier to see that her chest still rose and fell.

Her hair was a halo around her face, that same flaxen colour as Link's, and seemed to shine in the light of the candelabras lining the walls. He hadn't appreciated before how beautiful she was, although that was not the consequential thing for him.

The important thing was what he had come to realise that he valued her presence in his life. She was important to him; he cared about her, and when he spoke to her, it put his mind at ease, and awoke within him a feeling that stayed at the edges of his awareness even as it guided his thoughts and flooded his mind. He had always before taken his life as it came, but she had given him a goal. He wanted…something. He could not quite put a name to it, nor his finger to what.

"I'm so sorry, Zelda," he whispered to her, knowing that she couldn't hear. "I failed you. I was meant to protect you, and I failed you. Please, forgive me."

He didn't realise that he reached out to push the bangs from her forehead, ever-so-gently, as if he desired to let her sleep, and not the exact opposite.

He longed for her to open her eyes, that he might tell her…something very important. That she was more precious than all the rupees scattered across the Great Sea. He'd fight Ganon a thousand times for her.

Just let her wake. Whatever this longing was, let her share it; although it was painful, there was something beautiful and wonderful mixed in.

Sudden alarm gripped him. Suppose her spirit wandered far afield. Would she ever waken once more? He took her hand, clasping it in both of his, and clutching it tight. He leant forwards, to beg her to wake.

"Just wake up. Please, just wake up. You can call me a fool, and impetuous and rash—I know I am. You can mock me all you want. You can even leave, and never look back, or speak with me again." Something constricted like a vise around his chest at this thought. "Just please… please…."

"Fear not. The princess is well, she merely slumbers deep," said a voice, and the room was suddenly not empty, but a woman with a strangely familiar voice stood somewhere to his right, several paces from Zelda's head. As he leant to his left to better look at her, she began to walk forwards, towards Zelda, lying on the bed.

She was tall, and tan, with shaggy red hair that came just past her shoulders, and brightly burning crimson eyes. She wore a floor-length dress with trumpet-shaped sleeves, and he could see when she walked that she went barefoot.

Her expression was unreadable, with eyes narrowed, her brows furrowed, and a slight frown. But, as she turned to him, he could see the regret in her eyes, something that might be shame in the way the eyebrows were raised in an almost vulnerable expression. Something inside him told him that this figure meant no harm, and could be trusted. If only he could think where he'd heard that voice!

"Oh, Chosen One," breathed a sorrowful voice to Zelda's left, and his head jerked to face in that direction, where a woman dressed all in dark blue sat unsupported at Zelda's side. She was fair-skinned, with sky blue eyes, and dark blue, voluminous hair, and her face was drawn and pained. The flared sleeves of her dress draped across Zelda's still figure as the woman reached out towards her.

She paused, and raised her gaze to meet his. There was a silent plea in those eyes, and Link wished that he could turn away, but some force unseen held him immobile.

"She will wake when it is her time. Until then, she is safe, learning what she must learn," said a voice behind him, and he whirled around, almost forgetting the hand he still clasped in his own, but adjusting his motion in time to avoid disturbing Zelda.

A few paces behind him stood a woman in green, her attire conspicuously similar to his own, with short sleeves, and a dress that came to mid-calf, revealing that she wore boots. Her hair was long, and forest green, and her eyes were a bright grass green. Her face was stern, and somehow noble, with a quiet strength beneath it. Her gaze was level, and she gave him a slight nod.

She walked to stand behind him, and placed her hands on his shoulders. Ordinarily, he would have been alarmed at the proximity, but somehow…perhaps, it was his state of distraction…he barely noticed.

"It is time that you, too, accepted your destiny," said the woman to Zelda's left, and Link spun to face her, clenching Zelda's hand tighter. Her voice was calm now.

"Oh, Chosen One," said the red-haired woman, her voice laden with regret. Her head was bowed, and she alone among the three had not yet met his gaze. Her head was turned aside, facing the left-hand wall.

Why were they calling him that? The last time anyone had said that was…oh…were these…gods?

"If you would defeat Ganon, then you must learn the lessons of the past. Do you wish to do this?" asked the woman standing behind him. Her voice was somehow both soothing and confident.

"You're offering me a chance to learn how to defeat Ganon? But, why? Who are you three? Why give me such a choice?"

"When Ganon brought Zelda to his tower, he put her into a deep sleep. We took advantage of this to aid her, by opening her mind to the truth," said the woman to Zelda's left. Her hands were in her lap, and she looked very regal and proper, seated thus.

"As for who we are, you have surely guessed, at least," said the woman in green. "Or, at least, you would recognise our voices from your adventure in our Tower." For the first time, their speaking pattern broke. It felt rather as if life itself had foundered, then shipwrecked itself on a tall cliff. What now?

"We offer you a chance to avoid calamity, and to defeat Ganon once and for all, for he was never meant to possess the Triforce. He must be stopped," the woman in red said, her voice harsh and vicious, her gaze still fixed on the left wall.

"Will you do this?" asked the woman in green. "Zelda will be safe. We will promise you that, to ease any alarm you might feel at the thought of leaving her." She smiled warmly at him.

"I'll do it!" Link declared. Why think more on the matter? Was turning down an offer from the gods even an option?

"I told you that he would," said the woman on the left, folding her arms across her chest, her expression serene, if a bit haughty.

"No one disagreed," the one at Zelda's head said.

"Let's do this," said the woman behind Link. He could feel her tapping her foot behind him.

"Stay still," the woman in blue said, and she reached across Zelda's form, and pressed her hand to his forehead. Link felt himself falling, falling into darkness, and knew no more.

End Part I