Summary: No one knows what became of Link after his adventure in Termina. But, according to him, he didn't vanish. He returned to Hyrule for several years, creating a new life for himself, before embarking on his final journey in search of a lost friend.

Rating: 18/R (sexual content)

The legend they speak of me is a true one, though not complete.

They speak of a vile rogue named Ganondorf, who obtained the Triforce of Power and attempted to take the entire entity for himself. A man who took over Hyrule, and made the once prosperous land into a dark, bitter one. He, who committed treason to the royalty of the kingdom, betraying the king, fooling everyone around him except a princess who knew better, but was too naïve herself.

The legend also speaks of a Hero, who rid Hyrule of this darkness, but yet no longer existed, vanishing from that point in time, to only become a great legend.

And that is all I was over there, a figment of a legend.

I was not real, at least not anymore. I would be spoken of, historians would study my legacy. But they would find nothing, I knew. They would find nothing because there was no part left of me there. They would become puzzled when they attempted, to write down the legend of the Hero of Time who saved Hyrule, then disappeared.

I didn't know why she sent me back. There existed two entities in me that despised her for it, while another was eternally grateful. Both sides, still, were consumed with fiery love for her, the princess. Myprincess. My obsession for her, even now, was troubling. Her image consumed my mind, my eyes witnessing shots of the length of her hair at random moments, her face flickering in my vision. I had been searching for her, and when peace was returned, she disposed of me.

But she had done it for me. So that I would regain the years I had lost. Yet, without realizing it, she also took away the part of me that was the Hero, she destroyed the evidence of the Hero of Hyrule, took him back to a time where he was not a Hero, but a wondering boy with a fairy.

In this Hyrule, I was not a legend, but merely a lad who appeared to be from the Kokiri. I needed to leave that place, to escape this ordinary life and create a new legend. I was young, too very young. I was young and hard-headed, desperate to find a new meaning in my life, to create for myself some sort of existence that I wandered into the Lost Woods, fairy-less. I was risking myself so that I could run away, and when I did luckily meet a fairy, I found myself in another land called Termina.

Was I a legend there? I wasn't sure. Perhaps, I could have been. But it was not the legend I wanted to be. Because after it had all ended, I knew that I would be living an ordinary life once more, without a family, and without my best friend.

Even as I speak to you now, I still can remember her. Just a small little creature, but the one who believed in me the most. She had guided me, traveled in time with me, was my tiny mentor. And why she disappeared from me, many years ago, I did not know. She left me without a word, without a single word. Right before my eyes did she disappear, just as I had disappeared from the princess. That that was why I lost myself in the woods, two days passing without food or water, my horse just as weak as me. I was lost trying to find her.

This is the rest of my life, which I will finally confess. This is the legend people do not speak of, do not know of, never uttered until now.

This is what happened to the Hero of Hyrule. The chronological telling of his life, the events that occurred, the emotions and anguishes he experienced up until the very end.

I will not leave out a single detail, for it has been kept hidden for so very long, and the unknown instances in my life are too massive to be unexistent to the world. And as you listen, I beg that you do not judge me, for several of my choices were ones of folly and arrogance, where I put first my own wants and desires, neglecting the obligations I already had before me. But, in the legend, my humility will not be described. They know nothing of the man who was the Hero of Time, because the Hero was an imperfect Hylian, not one of the goddesses.

This is what occured in the years following the events in Termina. This is the fate of the Hero of Time.

CHAPTER TWO: The Return

Many believed I had never returned to Hyrule after I ventured out into the Lost Woods without a fairy. And that is how the story of me was told, for nobody really knew what became of me after I wandered in the forest with Epona.

Hyrule knew nothing of my events in Termina, so to them I simply vanished. But even after then, I did return to Hyrule. I remained there for several years, in fact. Over a decade did I reside in my native land. The people spoke so little of this because I lived a rather quiet life for those twelve years, a very simple one. Too simple for my liking.

I must admit, even I believed I was going to die after I left Termina. Hyrule wasn't my outright destination, but a part of me was trying to find my way back, as I had become lost and afraid in those woods. My last fairy companion—a little pixie named Tatyl—had left me by then. I almost considered living in Termina, to grow old there, to finish the rest of my simple life.

But I instead led myself out of the vicinity, to the Lost Woods once more, and the rumors I had heard seem to come true before my eyes, as I did become lost. Desperately lost. For two days did I travel wearily, my body burning in fever, dirt from the forest rattling my hair. The dryness in my throat was worse than the emptiness that overpowered my belly, and when my horse, the still young Epona, seemed to know of our misguidance, even she understood that it was time to give up.

It would have been a great tragedy for my life to end this way, to have died as a child in the woods, done so by stupidity, because I did know better. Compared to most children, I had accomplished much in my life, and here I was close to my eleventh year of life, but even closer to death.

I was so young, so painfully fresh-faced. And it was all because of that fairy that I was in that predicament, trapped in my own despair.

I was so young, and so lost. More lost in my mind, than in those woods. Lost in confusion and bafflement as I was experiencing feelings of a young man, rather than those of a child. When my princess had sent me back, she returned a boy who already knew his own adult body, as well as the massive swarm of emotions he experienced in that state.

Two obsessions did I suffer from. The prominent being the search for my friend, the little fairy who abandoned me. It was a quest that plagued me my whole life, affected the decisions I made, many a time taking over all my logic and reasoning. But it stemmed from sadness and lonliness, this obsession. And a profound love.

Yet the other...the other was my infatuation. With the girl from another time. The princess who sent me back and was living her life now, without me in existence. Even as a child, I dreamed of her. Not the princess of my time. For, even as we grew, and I did have a gentle connection with her, she was nothing like the princess who sent me back.

This infatuation for her poisoned my blood. It took over my soul and inhabited my mind with no mercy. She was a fierce figment in my brain. Not existing, but yet so real to me. So real, because I could still remember her. And I wanted her. Oh, even as a child I wanted her. The desire was so strong it haunted my dreams for many nights, for many years. Never merciful, never merciful...

Even in this predicament did I think of her, resting against a tree, my body limp on the bark. Though my eyes were closes, my senses still filled with images of her. As I believed myself to be dying, I could not let the dream of her disappear with me, remembering everything I could about her, though it was not much, and was never enough to keep me satisfied.

My breath was light as I thought about my princess. And I could hear Epona whimper beside me, my body falling onto the grasses, lying there, no movement, not even a contraction of a single muscle. Motionless was my body, yet my breathing continued, growing more and more faint, so scarce as I felt myself fall into a subconscious state of mind where all I saw was the beautiful Princess Zelda, surrounded by fairies—no, it was light that surrounded her, and the light gleamed a ferocious blue, emitting from a single fairy. My lost friend. The pixie for whom I was lost over.

I felt lucky almost, to escape this fake reality, witnessing my young life perish slowly. My skin turned pale, the blue of my eyes dulling, the blondness of my hair almost brown from all the dirt that had gathered. Weak was my small body, from hunger, thirst, and even hopelessness. I was a hopeless young boy. No fairy to guide me home, alone in the woods I was warned never to travel without a glittering companion.

For how long I remained there, I was not certain. It might have been minutes, hours. Time stood still for me, though I could feel, smell, hear my surroundings. But my sight was blocked off from the environment, my eyes creating their own pictures, my brain a clean canvas while my eyes painted the portrait of Zelda and the fairy, paying attention to every detail of my princess's face. How I remembered the luminosity of her eyes, so blue, striking me with their sadness, and her golden hair. Many of my dreams, oh in many of my dreams did I yearn to touch her hair, feel the yellow silk smooth my coarse fingertips, or even just to smell the aroma that was Zelda and only Zelda. This I dreamed over and over, and even while I was dying, she was there in my mind.

It wasn't healthy, this I knew, to think of my princess in such a way. This girl was no longer with me, or rather, I was no longer with her. There existed another Zelda here. And that Zelda knew nothing of the circumstances I had overcome in another time.

And it saddened me. All of it did. I felt all alone again. My fairy was gone, the one who remembered everything that I remembered. She was the only one who I could receive comfort from, whenever my other dreams haunted me—not those of Zelda, but of Ganondorf.

He would appear in my thoughts of subconscious at night, a smug smirk crafted upon his bloodied lips. He would taunt me, bestow fear in me that he was not dead. And I knew, oh how I knew that he was not dead. He was still alive and fighting to escape the prison the holy sages had encaged him in.

Those nightmares followed me, would often defile my passionate ideas of Zelda, as he would tear through my dreams and claim them for his own. He would always be dirty, beaten to a bloody mess, his crimson hair wild and burned, similar to his appearance of our last fight, before he turned himself into a pig hellion.

And even at his wearied state, he would still frighten me, because of his eyes. They were so black, deep like an endless hole, one of which I was gravely afraid to fall into. The pits on his face seemed never-ending, just blackness—complete, utter, plaguing blackness. He would be standing in the darkness, the only light to make his presence visible emitting from his right hand. The Triforce of Power glowed magnificently there, the golden light so fierce and captivating. It was dreadfully beautiful, and it always astounded me how so much beauty could come from a man so vile and sinister, so absolutely evil that even I could not understand how not even an ounce of good could reside in this fiend.

And the dreams of him would end there. He would never speak, never say a word to me. All he would do is grin, his teeth encrusted with thick, dried blood, his eyes two dark sanctuaries burning with his undying pride, and there he would show me his fist, the Triforce glowing like a jewel on his knuckles. And that was all he needed to do to keep me forever reminded that he was still alive, and that he still obtained that piece of the Triforce.

And his vow, his desperate promise he had made before the sages seized him...proclaiming his revenge...though he would not speak it, his voice would echo in my dreams. Never letting me forget.

But as I was dying, my thoughts were not of him. They were pleasantly hopeless ones, encircling my princess, the fairy, the friends I knew in Hyrule and its surrounding area. My mind sculpted them as I allowed myself to succumb to death, after only living for a decade in this time.

And there I collapsed, in the grasses, continuing to hear Epona whimper for me, for she believed I had died, and it seemed I had.

But I didn't die.

~oOo~

"Lilly, where are we? I knew we shouldn't have traveled this far! We are going to get lost and turn into skull kids!"

"You're being ridiculous, Dixie! That only happens to children without fairies. We, of course, do have fairies. And I know where we are."

At the sound of tiny female voices, I stirred on the ground, and even as I attempted to force my eyelids to lift, I could not even master that feat, too weak too move, too hungry to try the motion again. I was surprised that I was still alive, or maybe I pondered that I was in fact dead, and I was in another place now, created by the goddesses.

Yet, as my fingers grasped the grasses beneath me, I very well knew where I was, and carefully an audible groan fled my throat.

"Did...did you hear that?" the first female voice spoke, the girl named Dixie, spoke.

"It sounded like...a boy."

I could hear them rustling, feel their presence as they came closer to me, and at last their high-pitched little gasps when they saw my body laying there, the horse still mourning my apparent corpse.

"Din, Nayru, Farore! It is a boy!"

"And he's a Kokiri too!"

As I felt their hands begin to inspect my body, slowly did my eye lids raise, bluriness taking my vision for a moment until the blackness disappeared, and I saw myself gazing at two concerned feminine expressions.

"He's—he's still alive!"

They were pretty, the both of them. One had brown hair, the color of sand, the other was just as blonde as me. Both possessed large green eyes, wearing similar green dresses, as well as identical in height. Over their heads hovered two different fairies, one shimmering pink, the other emitting a yellow haze from her aura.

Again did I groan, blinking a few times now, rubbing at my eyes while I carefully lifted my body up to sit against the trunk of the tree once more, an instant dizziness overcoming my head.

At my movement, Epona seemed to laugh. And yes, I was aware that horses cannot make such a sound, but laughing was the closest thing I could use to describe her happiness at my living state.

Now the two Kokiri girls looked at me oddly, continue to poke and prob at different places of my body, even though by now it was obvious that I was very much alive. Oddly, I sneezed at some point, sending them slightly away from me, but continuing to gander peculiarly.

"Are you okay?" The brunette asked.

I blinked. "I'm...I'm lost." My voice was boyish, yet raspy from the thirst in my throat. They frowned when they heard me speak, the blonde girl leaning her hand against my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. My name is Dixie. Are you a Kokiri?"

Before I could answer, the brunette, apparently the girl named Lilly, crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head at me with bewilderment. "What I would like to know is why in the world is a Kokiri boy like yourself wandering around out here without a fairy? Do you have a death wish or something?"

For some reason, I blushed, a bit angered at her words, yet at the same time embarrassed. "I'm not a Kokiri," I corrected her.

Dixie laughed, however, her hand over her mouth. "Well, you are dressed just like one!"

"I'm a Hylian."

Lilly hummed. "Okay, still doesn't explain why you're here without a fairy."

"I was looking for her."

The both of them stared at me for a moment, then briefly glanced at one another, as if they could read the others' mind. I watched with minimal amusement while they continued this behavior, suddenly feeling that perhaps death was going to befall unto me after all, as they weren't exactly rescuing me. But I had thought too soon.

"Alright, here's what we're going to do," spoke Lilly, on behalf of both of them. "We're going to lead you and the horse out of the woods. Only because you seem too nice to die here."

"And because you're pretty cute," added Dixie with a giggle.

No matter what their reasons and intentions were, I was very much grateful. Yet, I feared for Epona, as she had grown just as weak as I had, And I wasn't sure if she could continue the journey with us. But the girl named Dixie had tended to her almost immediately, reaching into the pocket of her dress and pulling out several twigs and deku nuts, petting Epona as she fed her the scraps, the horse devouring the contents in her palm most energetically.

"What is your name?" asked Lilly as she maneuvered my body so that my arm wrapped around her shoulders, lifting me up from the ground and helping me balance. It took me quite a moment to answer her, while I became accustomed to standing up again. Attached to her waist was a small container of water, and when she handed it to me I noticed it was half empty, but more than enough to satisfy my desperate thirst.

The bottle felt remarkable on my lips, and though the water was warm, if felt like ice as it hit the muscles of my throat, momentarily relieving of painful dryness that resided there. Smiling gently, I returned her gift back to her, finally having enough voice to speak further.

"My name is Link."

Even Dixie had heard me, and both little ladies exchanged an odd glance.

"Saria's friend?" asked Lilly.

I blinked, scratching the front of my head where my bangs resided, suddenly quite intrigued myself. "Yea, you know her?"

"Everybody knows Saria," remarked Dixie, taking hold of the Epona's reigns and carefully leading her forward. "But I always assumed the best friend she always spoke of was a Kokiri too. Though, I still think you are one."

"Well, I'm not."

"Okay then. Only time will tell."

That assumption was completely correct, as the Kokiri children never grew old, but remained young forever.

"Not for long," Lilly added to our conversation, a solemn tone capturing her voice. "Now that the Deku tree has died, I'm not sure how long any of us will survive."

A sadness overcame both girls, and even me, as the reality of that situation had sunk in. The Great Deku Tree was dead, due to the curse Ganondorf had put on him. And even I couldn't save him. This would lead to the eventual extinction of the Kokiri race. My heart spasmed at the thought of the Kokiri perishing from Hyrule's culture, and how all these young children would fade from existence, just as I faded from my princess in hers.

I remained attached to Lilly as we began to walk, leaning against the girl for support as her friend led Epona away from the place in which I thought I had died.

But I didn't die, this was only the beginning. My adventures did not end in Termina, but they did not immediately begin when I returned to Hyrule. I was rescued by the two Kokiri of whom befriended Saria, and the notion that she was still alive and well and available to see me spent a spark down my spine just a little bit, returning some hope to the hopeless young boy that I was.

I had failed in my mission to find my fairy. My beautiful fairy, my best friend. All this time of my disappearance, I was gone in search of her. Risked my life to find her. Because, even if I did rekindle my friendship with Saria, she was just as oblivious to the events of the other time as the Zelda here was.

It pained me how little they knew, though not their fault, but so much I had experienced. The quest had changed me, allowed me to grow up too quickly, put me between a boy and a man, and still I was not sure who I was.

The fairy was the only one who understood. And even she was now a memory in my life.

I'm not quite sure when I made my next decision. Perhaps it was during the walk back to the Kokiri forest, or after I nestled myself back into a regular life in Hyrule. Whenever it was, it happened before my eleventh year, where I vowed to start a new life and create new memories, to rid myself of the fantasies that plagued my young mind.

They were only fantasies, it seemed. It was impossible to ever see my princess again. And finding the fairy would probably never happen either. It was all just a dream for me, one that I realize if I continued to run after, I would only find myself even more hopeless and alone.

It was so hard to live with such a tremendous knowledge of another time, and it felt like I was keeping a secret from the rest of the world. Isn't it desperately hard keeping big secrets? Many times I wanted to explode, to blurt to the world who I was, what had occurred, and how I stopped it.

But I didn't. I couldn't. I started a new life after I left the Lost Woods. And for a while, I let go of the dream of finding the fairy and ever seeing my princess again.

But it was only for a while.

CHAPTER THREE: The Forest

I roamed through several residencies in Hyrule when I was young. As I was a boy without a family, it was difficult to have a direct place to live, as I found myself wandering aimlessly with Epona more than a single occasion. At times I stayed in an inn in Kakariko Village, doing diligent work at the shops there to pay for my expenses.

Other than that, however, I had two main sources of roof and bed. One was my old tree home in the Kokiri forest in the beginning, the other an empty bed at the Lon Lon Ranch.

I would return frequently to visit the girl who had given me Epona, as she shared my age and height at the time. Malon. Malon was her name. She was a cute little thing, a little plump as a child, but it just seemed to add to her charm.

I didn't realize then how important she would eventually become in my life, for at the time we were friends, very close friends, in fact. And in my weakest moments, I found myself telling her all my deepest secrets, which she believed to be stories I conjured in my creative mind instead of the realities that I had endured. Perhaps it seemed best that she believed it so.

I mustn't confess that part of my life yet, however, the part that contained my Malon. It is a large part indeed, but a little more occurred before then. For, I had just arrived from the Lost Woods, surviving from the death I thought had captured me.

The girls returned me to the Kokiri forest, and once I saw the children of my size running around vibrantly in the healthy, dark green environment, a sense of relief flushed me, returning the apricot tone to my skin, my eyes at last able to shine their full hue of cerulean.

I was back into safety, could at last eat and drink and breathe in air that didn't fog my lungs. Here was the place that I had spent nearly the last decade of my life, and even after my adventure, I returned to my home, back with these people who were not like me, who would never grow as I would, turning into a man with height and nappy hair growing from my face, as they would remain children, with the minds of children to match their bodies.

But, it seemed I had a problem with my mind consuming me of worries for the future. At that moment, I had allowed myself to enjoy the comforts of the present, witnessing some interested glares from various Kokiri children whom I found familiar, and soon those stares became smiles, smiles becoming laughter, and that laughter eventually becoming a crowd around me, happiness erupting from at least a dozen children.

It wasn't a large crowd, but there was enough of an abundance to make my cheeks redden as a blissful smile consumed my face, allowing the girls to hug me, the boys to shake my hand, as they welcomed me back to the forest, wondering why I had left in the first place.

I was on a mission from the Great Deku Tree, that was all they knew. At least here, I was special.

But, you see, part of my legacy died along with the Kokiri. They carried a piece of information about me that scholars now could very well use. But enough with the future, no one can understand the future unless there is comprehension of the past.

And the past this was, the distant occurrence still such a vibrant memory, as I could still recall the pine-infused smell of the grasses and trees in the forest. Such a unique scent, one I never smelt again. I didn't expect it to feel this wonderful to be back home, was interested to see such a commotion being made towards my return.

Perhaps the small people believed that my stay would be permanent, and I felt terrible knowing that would not be the case. I was still a confused young lad, and remaining in the forest was the least of my intentions. But there I was for the moment, and happy was I to be there, warmth succumbing my heart, the first sense of heated blithe I had experienced in a long time.

But though many old friends had greeted me, I still saw no sign of Saria, the child I was eager to see the most. She was not among the ten or so children huddled around me, and slowly a chill crept up my chest as I wondered what had happened to her, where she was, why she hadn't been the first to spot me.

Lilly and Dixie led me in like a prize, displaying their courageous act to their fellow forest inhabitants. At one point, Lilly had let go of me, in which I stumbled to stand up straight, nearly tripping over the flat grass I stood upon.

"We found him in the Lost Woods without a fairy. What a silly boy!"

And they all laughed, yes they did, so light-heartily that there were not laughing at me, but at the situation of the stereotypical account of daring to travel the woods without companionship. I was worried for Epona, as Dixie had left her near the bridge that led to the Forest, the horse being too weary to cross with us. She was just as restless as I, that horse of mine. Malon had given her to me, and I needed to take better care of this gift.

She needed some water. I would have to carry it out in a bucket to her. First I would need to find my old house—hopefully no one had moved in—and then maybe I still had those buckets laying around. Then, I'd scoop it under one of the ponds, and I could let her drink from it. Yes, that was the plan. When everyone had their share of me, I would give Epona her water, and quench my own thirst as well. Then, we would leave the forest. But where we would go, I was not certain.

I seemed to be so lost in my thoughts that I had developed a dazed look on my face, which seemed to worry the others. Several times, I lost my balance, dehydration getting the better of me, nearly toppling over and needing to grab onto Lilly.

"I think we are smothering him," noticed Dixie, a frown plastering her thin lips as she rubbed at my back. Her touch felt good, and I would have asked for more if it wasn't such a strange thing to ask. The others understood my circumstance just then, it seemed, as they began to take their distance from me.

"I don't mean to worry you," I spoke, a dullness to my voice. "I need to lie down though." Looking at my rescuers, I nodded towards both of them, my lips curving into a delicate half-smile, then taking them a little by surprise by gently hugging each other them.

"Thanks. You guys saved my life."

While Dixie giggled, Lilly smiled, nodded towards me in return. "Anytime, Hylian. Just don't go getting lost again. We might not be there to help you."

Though she spoke to me in a girlish tone, I could sense the underlying solemnness behind her words. It did seem like a peculiar act on my part, roaming the woods dangerously, especially to the Kokiri. And by that time, everyone believed I would have learned my lesson. But, I never did learn, but continued to make the same mistakes while I reached for the same exact goals.

I was overwhelmed with worry for Epona when I found my old tree house, still in its same location as I remembered. I heard no commotion from it, but I needed to be certain. Carefully, I climbed the familiar ladder, a dizziness blurring my vision as I exerted my legs to push my weight up the steps. It was a bit longer a climb than I had remembered. But it couldn't have been for more than a month that I had been gone from the forest.

The boards creaked when I stepped foot inside the miniature home. It remained the way I had left it, when the fairy had awoken me from my sleep and declared my summoning from the Deku Tree. I walked around the vicinity with my hands clasped behind my back, my brows raising as a sudden storm of memories flooded my mind.

It was so familiar, yet it felt like it had been years since I was last here. And my bed, my wooden, uncomfortable, goddesses forsaken bed. I would get hours upon hours of sleep on it, unlike the frequent naps I seemed to take now whenever deemed convenient.

These were my days of leisure, before all the adventure began. Technically, it was not all that long ago, as I couldn't figure that the time travel counted as actual time progressing. For example, I must have been handling that mess in Termina for at least three months, even though only three days had passed.

I couldn't describe that speck of relief I felt being back in my little home. I was so caught up in the nostalgia of my surroundings that I had nearly forgotten the reason I had returned, which was to fetch a bucket for Epona.

My buckets lied in a messy heap, so consumed with dust that I needed to take a minute to vigorously shake the dirty powder off of one of them, seeing it dispose and absorb in the air. And there, I wasted not another moment, taking the bucket and moving myself back down the ladder, searching for one of the ponds in the forest, and easing when I located one.

As I dipped the bucket into the water, my knees bent, hovering over the small encirclement, taking a moment to splash my face with it, suddenly reminded of how much I needed to bathe just then. It had been plenty of days since I last felt the coldness of river water hit my body, to allow the dirt to slide down my arms and legs, ridding me of the grime that had gathered over my travels.

There I removed my hat, continuing to splash my face, even a little of my hair, the dirt continuing to fall, and the more I witnessed wash away, the more frenzied my splashes were, while I gathered the water in my cupped palms, throwing it at my face before it could drip through the holes between my fingers.

"Hey...Hey Link..."

It was a boyish male voice that had addressed me by name, and water still dripped heavily off my face when I turned around and saw a very familiar figure standing before me. "Mido?"

I had taken a step back as I wiped my face onto my sleeve, yet my boot had tripped on the dirt. I had spent a good two seconds struggling to avoid my fate, hoping to regain control of my legs, arms sprawling madly to maintain some sort of balance. But alas, succumbed to my fate, falling back first into the pond, my entire body soaked.

Well, I had gotten my bath, it seemed. More or else. And the humiliation that lurked within me was forcing my hurt to beat faster now, as I didn't even bother moving for a moment, but just sitting there in my own wetness, wringing excess water out of my bangs.

Of course this would happen in front of the boy who never really liked me too much. And he just stood there, watching me throughout this whole ordeal, standing there with his fists planted on his fists, a bend to his knees, while his head remained tilted towards me. Yes, the same old Mido that I remembered, same posture and everything.

Again, I needed to remind myself. Not much time had passed.

The boy hadn't even bothered to help me up, as I had to complete the task myself, managing not to fall back down on my rump. He snickered though, not every loudly, but enough to make my nose wrinkle as I grabbed my hat from the ground and placed it upon my head, then taking hold of the handle of my bucket.

"Looks like Mr. Hero is back to cause more trouble."

I can still remember the high-pitch cockiness of his voice, but over time I realized it was merely a guise for the actual concern he felt for me, hidden beneath all the animosity. At the time though, I was downright annoyed by him, wishing so badly that I could rub the regret he would later feel for his actions in his freckled face. Yet, even that he would not know. This was a different time now.

"What do you want, Mido," I muttered, wringing out the bottom of my tunic now with my free hand, murmuring silent grievances as I finally stepped completely out of the pond. Attempting to pass through him, the child blocked me, his arms collectedly folding over his chest, a strand of red hair leaving his hat and covering his eye.

Oh, he was too much like I remembered him, and that didn't please me. And as I tried to counter his block of me, he simply followed my movement and forbid me to pass him again, in which this time I grunted.

"That's not funny," I informed him.

Though, the boy shook his head at me, as if I were a dullard with no logical insight of the point he was trying to get across to me.

"Listen, Link," he spoke, a lift to his auburn brow, "just because you're back now, doesn't mean you can be trying to be Saria's best friend again. A lot of people are mad at you. It's your fault the Great Deku Tree is dead."

I bit my bottom lip at such an accusation, my grip on the bucket handle tightening so immensely I could feel my own fingernails prod into my skin. "You know that was not my fault."

"I don't know why Saria and the Great Deku Tree liked you so much, but I want you to know I'm not okay with having you here. You are not one of us."

I was initially hurt by his remark, and in the past I would have simply ignored him. But this time, I scoffed, too strong to let his childish antics bother me. With stiff shoulders, I at last managed to push passed the boy, resultig in him getting a wisp of the water from my tunic right on his chest.

"I don't intend on staying here."

Though he found no comfort in my words, but instead furrowed his brows, his palms heaving towards my chest to push me back into then pond. And as I went down, I grappled the hem of his tunic, taking the rascal with me, both of us drenched now, struggling in the water.

We were a mess of wetness and naïve curses to each other, wrestling in the puddle, our bodies muddied by the grasses that had drenched as well. Several times Mido slapped me across my cheeks, stunning me but not allowing me to stall long enough that I didn't hit him back, harder in fact that he hit me. My boot had kicked into his groin at one point, in which he yelped out in pain, grappling at the restricted area.

"Link, you big jerk!"

Though, I extended my tongue at him, winking a single eye, suddenly quite amused. With aggravation raging inside him, the redhead pushed me down into the water, and there we engaged in hair pulling, while I bit the skin of his arm, and he managed to pull out a small clump of my blonde strands. Finally, he lifted his fist near his face, hurdling towards my nose—

"Mido!"

I didn't even blink my eyes, even as I saw his fist only breaths away from the center of my face. He had stopped before hitting me, a sudden paleness to his skin, almost making his freckles disappear. Quickly did his neck snap away from me, turning another direction now, eyes widening. "S-Saria!"

It was a very awkward moment in my life, as the boy had me pinned down, our legs entangled, water dripping from his hair and landing in continuous droplets on my face. The situation looked even more dire, especially for him, as he was holding the collar of my tunic and had his arm in position to knock the consciousness out of me.

It was my green haired friend after all, and I blushed as I saw her, raising a tired arm from beneath Mido to gently wave at her. "Hey…Saria."

A tinge of embarrassment left me, as I was just as guilty as Mido was. Though I tried to be amusing, her expression was nowhere near pleasant. She simply stood there before us, a mixture of bafflement and anger claiming her, hands pressed firmly upon her hips, scowl wrinkling her face, and a wide distance between her legs.

"What in the name of the goddesses are you two doing?"

As she lectured, Mido instantly let go of me, where I landed back into the pond with a loud splash. Seeming to float there for a second, I grunted, eying the bucket that floated along with me, upside down, the water I had for Epona no longer filling it.

"It's not what it looks like!"

Rolling my eyes at Mido's hasty remark, I brought myself to sit up, shaking the water from my hair as I squeezed at the end of my hat to wring it. With a sigh did she walk to us, extending both her hands for us to hold onto as she hauled us out of the pond.

"I hear the news that Link is back, and before I can say hello I see the both you fighting like a bunch of ridiculous monsters!" She shook her head at the both of us, rather disappointedly. And then she looked at me, her expression softening, eyes lighting up. Silently clearing my throat, my cheeks reddened guiltily, the flesh of my bottom lip pulsing with discomfort.

"How am I supposed to give you a hug when you're soaking wet?"

Timidly I chuckled, my fingers scratching the back of my head, smiling a bit broader when I heard Mido snort. She did hug me, no longer seeming to mind the wetness of my clothes pressing up against her. I returned the embrace, my arms dangling over her back, inhaling the sweet, pine scent nestled in her shoulder.

It was a quick hug, too soon for me to feel the loss of the comfort. And I frowned as she pulled away, the look on her face morphing back into the disappointment I had seen before.

"Could you guys please stop fighting now," she gently pleaded, "and go dry yourselves up?"

I stared at her face, then glanced at the bucket floating in the pond, and back and forth my eyes traveled for several seconds. "I need to give Epona some water. She's really thirsty."

There she took my hand, nodding carefully, and watched me fill the bucket once more. Together we walked away, saying small goodbyes to Mido.

Though when Saria wasn't looking, I stuck my tongue out at him once more, a cleverness lurking inside me. And his frown and huff seemed to make my day.

It was sad to see Epona so tired, and she licked the water so fiercely when we brought it to her that she managed to drizzle me lightly with her speed. With a smile of relief, I petted her, causing her hair to become a little moist, though she seemed to enjoy it.

Saria stared at me the whole time, her glare very sharp and unreadable. I pretended to not be aware, and even though I could not see her as my eyes were on Epona, I could definitely feel her gaze burning me. I didn't want to turn to her, afraid of what she would say to me once I did.

However, whether or not we made eye contact was not important to her, because there she spoke to me, her tone inquisitive, yet so sentimental it almost broke my heart.

"Where were you?"

Though her voice was soft, it sounded so mercifully concerned, that I stopped brushing Epona with my fingers to look at the girl, suddenly seeing her eyes well up with uncried tears, her hands clasped together in front of her chest, all the while staring at me so intensely I could feel her eyes boil me.

There, I gulped, not knowing what to say, if I should speak the truth. She would not understand. My story was too bizarre. More bizarre, in fact, because it included her, where she played a much bigger role than she would have ever believed.

"It's a long story," I explained vaguely. "I left Hyrule for a while."

"Are you staying now? Is your adventure over?"

I looked at her peculiarly for a minute.

She fumbled with her fingers, her eyes focusing on the ground, a sway to her left knee. "It's okay if it's not. I understand that maybe you need to find something, even if you don't know what it is yet. But whatever you do..." Here, she paused, gaze lifting carefully until our eyes locked, and there a nervous smile twitched at her lips. "...I will support you."

I opened my mouth to speak, and only a sigh emerged. I stood there still dripping, wet and cold and still embarrassed, shy, clumsy. But a tender smile curved my mouth.

"Will you ever tell me what happened while you were gone?"

She continued to speak at my silence, shifting closer to Epona to pet the horse as well, a small sense of curiosity in her childish voice. Here I distinctly hesitated, a hum in my throat.

"I don't think you will believe me."

"Well, you don't know that."

"Then you'd laugh, at the very least."

Wrinkling her nose, the girl gave me a knowing look, not appreciating the lack of trust I was accusing her of. "Come on, Link. I promise I won't laugh. What kind of adventure did you get yourself mixed up in?"

Sighing in defeat, my face softened. "Okay. I'll tell you then."

"Fine. I'm waiting."

"I stopped the moon from falling on a town."

Goddesses, she did laugh! She giggled graciously, her knuckles to her lips, her eyes closed as the smile consumed her entire face. Though it was a pleasant sound, it stung my ears, and in return I pouted, arms crossing over my chest, my eyebrows slanting.

"You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"I'm sorry!" she giggled, still chuckling plentifully. "I was just taken by surprise that's all. Please, continue, this looks interesting."

I found myself explaining the whole situation to her, my hand gestures fierce and all over the place as I spoke, acting out certain sequences of my adventures in Termina.

"There was this evil mask, and I fought it! Beat the thing to a pulp! It was controlling the skull kid, and I met a fairy! Yes, the fairy! The fairy helped me as I traveled through time within those three days before the moon would fall and destroy Termina!"

With intrigue and a smirk she nodded along, chin rested on her knuckles. "I see. So you met a new fairy?"

"Yes! Her name was Tatyl."

"What happened to Navi?"

I had been so exuberantly retelling my tale of Termina that her question took me completely off guard, where I froze in the hero's stance, pretending to grip my sword and shield. Slowly, my body returned to a dull stand, a smile trying to tug at my lips, but only failing.

"Navi left."

"Where did she go?"

Perhaps she couldn't see how this particular question was bothering me, or maybe she did, but was too curious to put my emotions into complete consideration. She frowned, however, an expression of sympathy capturing her.

I watched the little fairy that silently flew above her, creating a shimmer over her body and her face to radiate, and there my eyes teared just a little. Sighing, I turned my face away from Saria, petting resuming to pet Epona a bit more aggressively, where she snarled through her teeth.

"I don't know."

This is where our conversation ended. I did have many more with her, but this is the one I recall the most, as it left a mark on the both of us. My answer to her was the only way I could describe how the fairy—my Navi—was gone. I really didn't know where she went, why she left me, or how come she didn't say goodbye.

Saria spoke no more of Navi, and neither did I. Here we enjoyed one another's company, before I left the forest once again, and found myself returning to the Lon Lon Ranch.

Now I can finally speak of Malon, the cute farm girl. This began her impact on my life, where I grew close to her and found myself staying at her residence for many days at a time.

This is the era of the next twelve years of my life, where I lived in Hyrule quietly. And this began my little relationship with Malon. I call it little, even when I shouldn't, because I shamefully was in love with another woman when I courted her. I am talking about my princess, as silly as it may sound.

I was too young to know what love was, but even at that age I experienced tremendous emotions for the princess from another time. I concluded that infatuation to be love. And when I could not live out my fantasies, I found myself in Malon's company, for many years.

I could go on forever about her, my Malon. In the beginning, she was so kind hearted, always cheerful. Understanding, optimistic, and always beautiful. It was a gentle beauty that she possessed, one that was simple, calming. Never was she adorned with make-up, pinned hair, or extravagant clothing. She was a simple girl with a simple dream, looking for a prince to make her a princess.

I was not a prince, far from it in fact. But she accepted that dreams could change, and she proved it with myself. When I returned to the Lon Lon Ranch, Malon was pleased to see me. She was more naïve than Saria, did not ask me of why I had been gone, what exactly I was up to.

Instead, she welcomed me, more focused on Epona, glad that I kept her alive. And then, we played, scurrying with the farm animals, playing pranks on Ingo, engaging in countless childish games until very late into the night.

If I could summarize my time with Malon briefly, I would. But she was too big a part of my life for me to simply disregard her as so.

I don't know where to begin; there is too much to tell. I suppose I'll start a little over a year later, when I was twelve, and the girl was waiting to close that same age.

CHAPTER FOUR: The Farm Girl

"Link..."

"Link...c'mon...Link..."

Moaning in my sleep, I had found myself in a half-awake state, my eyes remaining closed, but my other senses fleeing from my dreams and fully aware of my surroundings. I could feel the hard mattress of the bed beneath me, aching my young back though much more comfortable than other places I had slept. Feathers poked out from my pillow, prickling my face, while I could smell a faint scent of hay mixed with a delicate aroma all too familiar with me.

And when I felt another push at my arm, I flinched, hearing the female voice speak to me once more. "Link, get up! Get up!"

Her high-pitched voice was a whisper, yet a harsh one, as she resulted to shaking my shoulders, eliciting another moan from me. It emerged from my throat as a deep grumble, raspy and thick, melded with emotions of frustration and annoyance. My eyes were heavy as I lifted them, and I couldn't see her image before me quite clearly right away. Slowly the random colors I saw cleared into the portrait that was Malon, a week away from turning twelve.

At last, she smiled at me. "Hurray! You're awake!"

"Hurray," I mumbled, my face hitting the pillow once more.

Though I did not see it, I could imagine that her face wrinkled just then, because she had clutched the back of my tunic so heartily that she yanked me up with one swift pull, snatching any sleepiness left in me, my eyes shooting open like two bright blue globes.

"Ok! I'm up, I'm up!"

There she smiled in victory, hopping onto the bed with me, twirling several strands of my fringe on her little finger, something she always seemed to find a strange delight in doing. And every time I would blush at the little temptress, for she knew how sheepish I was.

It had taken me a minute to realize that the room was lit by a candle, one that I had failed to put out as I fell to sleep, meaning that it remained completely dark outside. Now my young self look at Malon with squinted eyes, the girl's finger remaining entwined in her hair, a little giggle to her lips.

"Malon, it's the middle of the night."

She pouted. "I wanted to play with you, that's all."

"I'm tired."

As she snatched her finger away from me, a frown tugged at her mouth, her arms crossing over her chest, a crinkle to her nose. With a humph, she snapped her neck away from me, acting more childish than I had ever seen any of the Kokiri behave.

"Fine, I was going to show you something amazing, but I guess I changed my mind!"

"Why can't you show me in the morning?" I asked. "Why now?"

"Because its only visible sometimes!" Malon faced me once again after her proclamation, extending her arms out, hands flexed, while her eyes widened with an interesting excitement that I didn't see often from her. Clearing my throat, I repositioned myself on the bed, stretching my neck, the sound of my bone cracking making her shiver in disgust.

"Okay," I spoke slowly, not even trying to cover the yawn that emerged from my throat, distorting the single word. "What is it?"

"I don't wanna say, let me show you!"

"Malon—"

But before I could counter her, she yanked me out of bed. Hastily did I tug on my boots, by her order of course, the younger girl watching me with a twitch to her shoulder. There she grabbed me again, the both of us stumbling as she pulled me out of the little little shed and into the darkness of the night.

The girl was barefoot, and in a night dress, continuing to drag me along while we scuffled out of the ranch. The wind whistled in the night, shivers lifting the thin hairs on my thighs. Yet, she continued to further us as we left the safety of the ranch, into the darkness of Hyrule Fields.

"Where are we going?"

"By the lake!"

Here, I stopped her, pressed my heels to the grasses, so that she could only drag me a few more feet before I ceased our movement. When she turned around, her eyes were full of inquiry, her brows lifted as if she was surprised by my action.

"Malon," I began, a little breathless. "We can't be walking around the fields at nights, there's monsters out here." My face neutral, my eyes trailed to her feet, her naked toes wiggling in the grasses, a little brown from the dirt.

"Not only do I not have my sword," I continued, my arms wildly gesturing to her little feet, "You you're not wearing any shoes! What if you cut yourself? Then what am I supposed to do?"

Giggling, the smile on Malon's face soon morphed into a warming one, her eyes softening as she took hold of my hand, a blush suddenly twitching my cheeks.

"You'll carry me, of course."

I rolled my eyes, and this seemed to amuse her even more. "And the monsters?" I added. "I wouldn't forgive myself if you got hurt."

"I just wanna show you really quick. We won't get into any trouble, I promise."

I glared at her for a moment, hoping my stare would convince her to change her mind. But instead, she pouted at me, the flesh of her bottom lip poking out very dramatically. Rather, the girl convinced me, as a defeated sigh fled my lips, and I tightened the grip of our hand hold.

"Okay, okay. Let's go."

I still remember that smile she gave me. It consumed her whole face, putting me in a trance that I seem to remain in as I speak. Merrily, she led me to the lake near Castle Town, her feet seeming to tip-toe as she jogged, most likely attempting not to step on any glass or something that could cut her.

Wearily, I trudged behind her, a faint smile curving my lips. I didn't know why I was inwardly happy at the moment, but there existed something about her that pleased me, allowed me to not be bothered that it was the middle of the night and I was being held hostage by a barefoot girl in Hyrule Fields.

We stopped before the slim body of water. The bridge to Castle Town was lifted, securing anyone from entering inside. The massive chunk of wood seemed to capture my attention, while I gazed at it peculiarly, hands finding my hips while knees turned inward like an infant.

"Link, look! Look right there!"

I turned to the direction at her trembling pointed finger, and there I exhaled, my eyes relaxing, an amused smile tugging at my lips.

"It's the moon," I remarked. "A full moon." In my mind, however, I asked myself, what was so special about the full moon? I had seen them plenty of times before, and she could have easily shown me from within the ranch.

Though, right there, it seemed to look more beautiful than the vision I would have seen if we had not ventured out. The sky was decorated with stars, their twinkles lighting the night so that the clouds shown a dark blue instead of miserable black. And there—right there—did the moon appear to glow feverishly in the center of the sky.

"Isn't it beautiful, Link?"

Dreamily, Malon sighed, sitting herself onto the grasses, her elbows on her knees, while her cheeks rested in her palms.

"I remembered that story you told me about how you stopped the moon from killing all those people. This reminded me of your story."

My body involuntarily sat beside her. I did not think about the action, or even considered it. At her words, her dreamy state, there did a substance that existed outside of me force me to sit comfortably next to her. I didn't object, didn't hesitate.

"Do you believe me?"

At the tenderness of my voice, Malon shifted her face towards me, a grin to her features. She hugged her knees to her chest, returning her gaze to the sky. "Of course I do! You're my friend, Link. I know you wouldn't lie to me."

"How do you know that?"

"Because my father and I wouldn't let a little liar be staying with us this whole time!"

Snickering at her own remark, Malon broke out into a tiny frenzy of laughs, and even I couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"I don't always stay with you," I corrected her.

"But you always come back."

Silence had succumbed after she spoke, the smiles fading from both of our faces, until our eyes showed an expressionless mix of emotions.

Maybe it was here when I first looked at her this way, my lonely heart sucking up every ounce of affection she had to offer. My head was tilted, my mouth slightly agape. I was a twelve year old boy filled with hormones and emotions I couldn't comprehend, as well as a burning pit of passion that still remained locked in my heart, my my princess of another time.

"Will you stay with us forever?"

I did not know how to answer the question, because I didn't want to be in Hyrule anymore. I wanted to leave, travel far, far, away, and leave everyone and everything I knew. Horridly, I wanted to forget, forget everything. I wanted to forget and have a new memory of my life, for the one I had made no sense to me, and I believe no sense could be conjured from it.

But the fierce plea present in her eyes brought the lie from me, when I answered her that I would, to stay with her and her family at the ranch forever, in Hyrule, never venturing out of the borders.

I knew then she didn't believe me, I could see it in her tired eyes. But she smiled, seeming to feign it, and there she leaned over and kissed my mouth, very briefly, the contact between our lips very light.

I received my first kiss from the farm girl, and there on out, I continued to spend a lot more time with her. My days grew abundant at the ranch, and soon enough I found myself turning into a farm boy, the elements that made me a hero beginning to vanish as if they never existed.

Perhaps this was the new life for me? My new purpose? I felt the goddesses had intended for something much more grand to be my life. I had always felt it immensely. But for a while, I seemed to ignore it, because figuring out my destiny hurt me too much, it hurt me because I saw it as a means of losing people that I cared for.

I spent twelve years with Malon in the ranch. Twelve years of transforming into a farm boy, eventually disgarding my tunic that labeled me as a kokiri, because I was growing, I was turning into a young man. And I began to dress like one, disgarding of the attire that seemed to define me as the Hero.

I know many of you are wondering, how could a man be in love with two women at the same time? And I wouldn't know how to answer such an inquiry, for now even I do not know how I could feel conflicting emotions for two different girls.

But I can tell you, that those feelings were different for Malon and Zelda. My passion for Zelda grew as I grew, where I kept it locked inside the depths of my soul, praying it would never escape and find residence in my mind again. But she would continue to haunt me in the night, as I would see her in my dreams rebuilding Hyrule without me.

My love for Malon was a different kind of fondness. I am shamed to admit it stemmed from my infatuation from my princess, as sometimes when I would look at into the blue eyes of the redhead, they would turn into the eyes of Zelda. And I would be happy for a moment, absolute bliss filling me until I realized it was not really her, but the lonely girl I was living with.

Perhaps that was how we connected so, we were both the same in some ways. Both lonely children. I never saw children her age come to play with her, I seemed to be her only companion. My days at the Kokiri Forest grew scarce, and soon enough even Saria became distant to me. All I had was Malon at the time, and she had me.

I think she knew. Yes, she knew very well. She knew of my obsession with the princess. I rarely spoke of her, yet whenever she would bring her up, mention her, declare how her father was delivering milk, quickly I would attempt to change the subject, refusing to think of her.

She knew, and it probably killed her inside. But she wanted me for herself, and she held onto that pain and hid it somewhere so it would hurt her less. Just as I had done with my passion for the princess.

And Navi...I would be lying if I said I had completely let go of my dream to find her. I convinced myself I had, swearing I would never partake in such a quest again. After I reached a certain age during puberty, I accepted my role as a farm. I was finished with adventures. Hyrule was at peace, for the time being, anyway. During my lifetime.

But, no matter what I wanted to believe, the goddesses had chosen me as the Hero. My destiny was theirs to control, not my own. And even when I lived this normal life for many years, they intervened by placing themselves in my mind, I knew they did! They went in my mind and told me what I needed to do, what was my destiny, my fate.

Which was better, to die young with a legacy, or live to the extent of Hylian life in simple comfort?

Or a better question is, which was worse?

CHAPTER FIVE: The Awakening

I was fourteen, I recall, as Malon was about to close the same year.

This was a very private matter in a my life, a strange means of experimentation between me and the farm girl. I remember we were hiding in the shed with the cuccos, during the middle of the night, while her father Talon and Ingo slept without knowledge of our exploits.

She looked at me with a fearful gaze, her cheeks swelling from embarrassment, sheepishness. Her fingers fumbled, her thumbs rubbing against each other, as her left knee seemed to tremble, the vibration apparent under her night dress.

Even at the awkward age of thirteen, she was cute. Quiet very cute, I do remember. She was growing more quickly than I was, changing drastically from the ten year old I first met. Almost reaching my height, there was something more womanly about her, like the thickness of her hair, the curvature of her face, how her waist had shrunk, yet thighs were beginning to swell and bloom like the roses in the spring.

I looked not much different, still retaining the boyish features of my face, though I was taller, a little more sturdily built, but I kept my hair cut the same, no sign of facial hair yet to grace me, still trapped in my youthful appearance.

Nervously, Malon held the end of her night dress, her cheeks tinting crimson. Her blush was contagious, as I found myself just as timid as she was. My fingers traced the hemming of my whit shirt. We simply looked at one another, oddly, peculiarly. Awkwardly.

"Remember what we said," her voice spoke softly. It had deepened a little now, become more lady like than the childish tone she had carried when I first met her.

"I remember," I muttered, tried to hide my embarrassment, to appear as collected as possible. "Just a quick look for the both of us, nothing more."

With a gulp, and a nervous little smile, she nodded. "Okay, on the count of three." Her eyes never left mine as I inhaled deeply, a tremor to my heart, the veins of my wrists beginning to twitch frenetically. I sensed the same fear inside her, by the posture of her body. Her knees were bent inwards, like an unknowing infant, and she had taken one of her hands to twirl several strands of her long hair, looking at me with her small mouth, lips sucked in.

Yet, beneath the outer uncertainties, there resided a curiosity, identical to mine, almost restless to take off our clothes, and show the other the differences that lied underneath our rigid coverings. We were quite young to be exploring our sexuality, only beginning to experience the changes our bodies were experiencing.

But, you see, for several years had we been surrounded by one another, and only one another. We grew and changed and developed before the each others' eyes. I, especially, saw her body morph, which began to startle me after a while, when Talon would assist her to the tailor to have new dresses made to fit her new body.

She, too, saw me grow taller, leaner. I was only of fourteen years at the time, but the shape of my physique had begun to differ from my years as a ten year old boy. My work on the farm allowed for curvature in my arms, a sturdiness to my young chest. And occasionally, I would find her looking at me, just as I looked at her when she would tend to the horses.

I initiated the count down, purposely keeping my voice deep, afraid it would crack from my vast nervousness and simultaneous excitement.

"One..." I gulped, seeing her approve with a nod, waiting for me to continue.

"Two..." My voice lengthened the word, pronouncing it more dramatically than was necessary.

Pausing before I reached the third and final count, I lingered there for a moment. Not intentionally or to build hype, but simply because I was too scared to say it. It was strange, how much I had overcome and conquered and the villains which whom I defeated, but yet was so dreadfully terrified at the concept of a girl's partial nakedness.

When I didn't speak, the both of us stared, expressionless faces, chests expanding and contracting very noticeably from our heavy breaths. Seconds went by, then minutes, and there we stood, the tension between us feeling like poison in my blood.

"Three!"

Blinking from surprise, I saw Malon begin to lift her night dress, her voice continuing to echo in the shed. And for a moment, I panicked, stumbling as I walked backwards, a timid gasp burning my throat as it fled through my mouth.

She had taken the garment off of her, using her elbow as a rack to hold the gown there. And as I had been struggling to compose myself as remove my shirt, I found myself suddenly transfixed, absolutely hypnotized by her sight.

Malon stood before me as if she were posing for a painting, one of those forbidden ones I was told not to see that many emerging artists of Hyrule painted and sold. She would be a perfect model for such a painting—so young, her skin fresh and smooth without a mark or trace of any sort of imperfection. How could a girl who labored on a farm all her life look so lovely? Perhaps it was a trick of the darkness, for only the candle lights allowed us a small amount of vision.

Even the cuccos stirred, whom had remained very quiet, most of them asleep. Two made a crackling of noise, walking between us, seeming to take peeks at her as well.

But I wasn't peeking, I was downright staring. It is difficult to describe how I felt at that moment, when my liking for girls reached its peak, and I knew I was becoming a man. I was shaky, more nervous than I was before she took off her night dress. Gawking with a bewildered expression haunting my features, I didn't know how to properly react, how she expected me to react. The only thing I could do without seeming like a fool was clear my throat, my fist near my face, a furrow to my blonde brows.

Shly she stood, twirling her hair once more, the blush on her cheek bones so fiercely red that it appeared she had spread paint over her skin. Her body swayed delicately, goosebumps claiming the thin hairs on her arms and legs, her breathing steady but audible.

She was not naked—she wouldn't let me see her most private areas that distinguished our genders. She had worn a covering that tugged at her hips, keeping her arse hidden from me. She worse a very thin shirt, not quite reaching her bellybutton, exposing some of the flat, tucked flesh of her stomach. I saw her breasts poke, however, from underneath the fabric. They were not large, but tender swells, about the size of my fists.

I could see her toes wiggle, her knees continuing to bend closer and closer to each other, to where I feared she would lose her balance. However, the girl did not flinch, but continued to stand there, allowing me to gander at her.

"Link," she spoke, her voice the lightest I'd ever heard it.

I scratched my head. "Um...yes?"

"You...didn't take your shirt off."

Looking down at myself, I saw that indeed I hadn't. I was so immersed in gawking at her that I didn't fulfill my end of the deal. Fumbling with my fingers, I continued to stall the movement, even though I knew I hadn't nearly as much to show her as she had me.

"Well?" She sounded a little impatient now.

"Okay, okay. Give me a moment."

I scuffled to removed the clothing, the nape of the shirt becoming trapped at the middle of my face, blocking my nose, in which emerged muffled curses from my improper mouth. I did not hear her laugh, but could sense the roll of her eyes, and even the hint of a smirk to her lips.

"Ah ha!" At last, I removed the garment, throwing it to the side as in complete and utter victory, which landed on the head of a cucco. The bird panicked at its sudden blindness, beginning to walk around the both of frantically, resulting in a small panic from the other birds as well.

"Link!" exclaimed Malon a little too loudly, covering her ears as the cuccos turned quite hysterical. Ducking to her knees, she dodged the flapping madness of one of the birds, in which I quickly mimicked to avoid its wrath as well.

The funny thing was, that one damn bird still had my shirt sprawling on its little small-brained head, and when I look back on it now, I wonder why neither of us had thought to yank it off of the clucking maniac. Instead, we continued to duck and dodge, scuttle around the place like immature children, beginning to giggle and chuckle like the troublesome hellions that we were. We had grabbed onto one another at one point, embracing like lovers, the cuccos surrounding us as if they were the monsters in Hyrule Field.

"What in the name of Nayru is going on in there?"

The sound of a fist smashing against the wooden door captured our ears, as well as the deep bellowing of a man that was too familiar to us.

"Ingo!" I exclaimed in a loud whisper, in which Malon abruptly closed my mouth with her palm, a fierce scowl to her once pleasant features.

"Shut up, Link!" she spoke in a very hushed tone to which even I could almost not hear her, though she was right next to me. "If he catches us, he will tell my father, and then we'll both be in horrible trouble!"

"Link? Is that you in there? Open the door, you little brat!"

I couldn't help but laugh as the middle-aged man continued to holler, his persistent knocking becoming more fierce. Again and again did he pound on the door, apparently deciding not to cease until he received a response.

"What are we supposed to do?" I whispered to the girl who hid herself behind my back, both her hands pinching my one shoulder. I saw her scan the room, her eyes moving too quick for me to process. The cuccos were running a muck now, the loud banging frightening them to a point of complete chaos.

Suddenly, Malon lunged herself to the corner of the room, her bottom pointed in the air as she crawled away from me. There were a stack of wooden boxes in the corner of the room, all filled with hay, and there she secluded herself, leaving me by myself.

"Go," she mouthed to me, motioning her her hands for me to get up.

"OPEN. THIS. DOOR."

Goodness, had that man seemed to lose his mind! His voice had elevated to a roar, and I scurried off the ground to walk my naked feet to allow the man inside, before Talon would awaken as well. Yet, I was not in the mood for a lecture from him, not that I ever was. The man never was too fond of me when I was growing up. Much later he became agreeable, but at the time of my adolescence, I found a strange amusement in getting under his skin.

Malon better concealed herself behind the haystack, her knees against her chest, as she watched me at last unlatch the rusty lock to open the door, finding a very enraged Ingo, his prickly mustache twitching from his anger, his dark brows slanted menacingly, while his hair was messy and unkempt, since he obviously had just carried himself out of bed.

He wore a shirt similar to the one I had been wearing, as well as his working trousers from earlier that day, yet the belt was undone. As much as I enjoyed aggravating him, Ingo was a hard working man, unfortunately with a hot temper.

He peered down at me, a cradle with a lit candle in one of his hands. He belt it up before my face, the flame burning my eyes and causing a few droplets of sweat to drowse my forehead.

"What are you doing in here, boy?"

His eyebrows never relaxed as he spoke to me, that same grimace lingering there. At his inquiry, though, I nervously laughed, a hand behind my head, my eyes closed in such a manner that seemed to profess my guiliness.

"Oh, nothing at all, Ingo! I was just tending to the cuccos, that's all."

He huffed at my explanation, not believing a word of it. "In the middle of the night?" he growled, narrowing his eyes towards me, scratching the side of his face as he spoke. "I am not a fool, boy. Those damn birds woke me up! You are lucky I'm the one here, and not Talon! He would get rid of your trouble-making self in an instant if he were to see this now! You are lucky, boy! Damn lucky!"

He seemed to go on for a while in this hushed tone, slamming his boot clad foot to the ground on several occasions, as if it better helped him get his point across. Wearily, I pretended to listening, nodding along rhythmically, almost falling asleep right there.

"I'm sorry, Ingo," I apologized, bowing before him nobly, hoping to feed his ego. "You're right, I am lucky. It is a good thing there is somebody as merciful as you to grace this ranch."

I believed I victoriously concealed any trace of sarcasm in my voice, but conceivably, I had failed, for Ingo grunted at my comment, ruffling his own black hair, shaking his head at me feverishly.

"You mischievous rascal," he huffed. Stepping a foot inside the shed, he attempted to push himself past me, yet I panicked as I blocked him off, not wanting him to discover that Malon was hiding within. As I extended my arms, my body formed into the shape of a star, disallowing the man access inside.

Placing his free hand on his ship, he glared at me, tilting his head in collected grievance. "Boy, what are you hiding."

He was good, knowing that the solemness of his voice would intimidate me, and it did, just a little. Though, I calmed my stance, acting naturally while my bangs bobbed against my face. "Well, Ingo, the cuccos are acting strangely. Wouldn't want you to get attacked by them now!"

"Move, child."

He didn't speak the word affectionately, but rather referred me to me as such to heighten his authority over me. And too close had the flame been to burning my face as he brushed himself passed me, that I had to reposition myself for him.

I wanted to stop him, had made a a weak effort to, reaching my hand to him as if I were to pull him back in. But, I had stopped myself, his boots scuffing against the wood of the floorboards, holding the cradle up that brought more light into the room.

It was strange how, at his presence, the birds silenced, aligning themselves in a linear fashion before him horizontally. I continued to stand by the entrance, my eyes squinted as I stared bleakly at the odd sight before me.

Pacing back and forth, his back hunched dramatically as he observed the cuccos, stopping at the center of the line, rubbing at his chin, a hum vibrating in his throat.

My heart raced as he continued this motion for several minutes, my gaze frozen on the stack of hay and crates, the blue in my eyes brightening to a fierce cerulean, a quaver to my lip, and flare to my nostrils. I prayed to each of the three goddesses that he would not go near the girl's hiding spot, and that if he did, she would have least been able to put on her nightdress while I had been distracting him.

I swear that my heart had stopped, my pulse simply dying and stopping the flow of blood in my veins, when I saw that Ingo had stopped pacing and checking out the birds, finding a sudden interest in the haystack, his feet taking a few steps towards the cluster, his brow lifting with interest.

Goddesses, did I panic! I found myself stumbling towards him, his name fleeing my lips with such haste every ounce of trepidation I held back escaped just then. "Ingo!"

He spun around hastily, giving me a baffled look, the candle in his possession almost toppling over. Both of us fretted to catch the cradle, my palms extending to catch it in case it fell. Rather that I would burn my hand than allow that flame to touch the wood and consume the hay.

Yet, it balanced peaceably, and we both let out sighs of relief.

"Runt! You could have set the whole place ablaze!"

"I'm, I'm sorry."

With an exhale, he shook his head, now heading towards the exit, forgetting all about whatever interested him about the stack of hay. Relief poured into my entire, filling my blood that I felt a tremendous sensation take over me.

Cleverly, I saw Malon peek from behind the crates, her eyes wide and trembling, and there I motioned her to quickly resuming her secrecy, in case Ingo decided to turn around suddenly. I followed him out the door, closing it carefully behind me.

"I apologize again, Ingo."

"Just get to bed, Link," he groaned, too tired to be angry with me any longer, but awake enough to remain annoyed. "And blow out those candles in there before you go."

He had begun to walk away, and I was already gripping the handle of the handle of the door to reenter, but he swiftly had turned around, causing me to jump up suddenly, my back slamming against the wood, several splinters jabbing in the skin of my shoulder blades.

I kept my wince quiet as he looked at him, until he at last shook his head at me. "And for Din's sake, boy, put some clothes on."

And there he left me, my cheeks blushing at his observance. I waited for him to completely disappear from my sight before I pulled open the door and brought myself into the shed, the chickens remaining in their peculiar line, now fallen asleep.

Attempting to reach behind my back and pick at the splinters, I carefully tip-toed towards Malon's hiding spot, the girl sticking out her torso as she saw me approach her. She had succeeded in putting her gown back on, though it seemed to be backwards on her.

"Malon, he's gone to bed. We're okay."

She giggled feverishly, taking the hand I offered her to help her stand to her feet. Though, I placed my index to my mouth, shushing her, and with a little jump, she nodded, pretending to lock her lips and toss the "key" with which she did so.

Smiling, the both of us blew out the candles that connected to the walls of the shed, tipping out faces inside the protective surfaces that blocked the flames from being touched by the meddlesome cuccos. And in the darkness, we scurried out of there, ramming into the walls, stepping on hay, chuckling amongst ourselves as I felt around for the handle of the door, while Malon held onto my right arm protectively, the feel of my skin in the darkness seeming to soothe her.

When the rusty metal that was the handle pricked my hand, I smiled triumphantly as my fingers grasped the cool object. The door had opened, and the gentle light from the stars and moon graced us.

"This was way too easy—"

The moment I took a single step outside, I found myself colliding into a big, burly belly, sending both me and the girl attached me my side back into the room from where we thought we had so successfully departed from.

But we had failed, dreadfully, as I rubbed my forehead, I saw what I had rammed into, and of course it had to be the stomach of Malon's father, Talon.

A groan crept up my throat as the realization of the situation kicked in, the man standing in front of us with his arms folded before his chest, a tightness to his lips. More firmly did Malon hold onto me, nervously smiling at her father, a sheepish chuckle escaping her.

My whole life seemed to flash before my eyes just then, every aspect of it. For a moment, it was more dire than when I thought I had died in the Lost Woods, as I fretted being murdered by the man with his bare hands. This must have looked terrible to him—me, a guest (without my shirt on, might I add) leaving a dark, cucco-infested shed with his daughter. Only the goddesses knew what ideas were troubling his mind! What would he do to me? How had he discovered us?

"Hello, Daddy," greeted Malon nervously, deciding it be a wise choice to let go of my arm, adjusting her nightdress, then gasping when she realized that the collar was too high up her neck, revealing she had put it on backwards. The girl clutched with flexed hands at her chest, the color draining from her face.

Moaning, I closed my eyes, sulking in defeat, peeking momentarily at Talon, awaiting the wrath that would come from him.

Yes, I would have to find a new place to stay. Scrounge up some rupees to sleep at the inn in Kakariko Village for a few nights, or return to my old tree home in the Kokiri Forest. I would have to think of something now, since there was no way Talon would let me stay at the family now that he had caught me in such a predicament with his only child.

If only I could perfectly describe the look he had given me, a twitch to his round nose, his mustache moving from the flare of his nostrils. Just as sloppily as Ingo he was dressed, one of the clasps to his overalls undone, wearing a pair of his old working boots, a tear on the front of his right shoe, exposing a large, first toe.

I saw that toe curl, and there I returned my eyes to his face, swallowing that hard, dry lump that grew in my esophagus.

"What are the both of you doing in the middle of the night?"

I faltered, not knowing how to answer exactly, and I had looked at Malon, hoping she would have some sort of solution, yet she only shrugged. Nervously, I smiled at Talon, chuckling just a little bit, though there lurked no confidence in any of my actions.

"Uh, nothing."

I still cannot fathom why I answered him so simply, not even attempting to come up with some type of almost reasonable excuse. Even if my idea were completely ridiculous, it would have been better than replying with a nothing. Goddesses, anything but a nothing! Because nothing never meant nothing, but definitely implied something.

Even Malon gave me a bewildered stare, her mouth agape, the air chapping her lips just a bit, her eyes wild and questioning. Again, I chuckled timidly, being the only one laughing, making the situation all the more awkward. I just kept wondering how he had caught us! Was it Ingo, or just his fatherly senses that had brought him here?

"Nothing, eh?" he repeated, oddly looking at me a little amused.

"Yes. Nothing."

Now, he chuckled. The sound vibrating in his belly. Both me and the girl exchanged baffled glances, not quite sure what her father thought was so funny.

"Not making a baby in there, I hope!"

We each blushed, as I suddenly wanted to push my face into Lake Hylia and drown myself. I felt a little humiliated, but still intimidated by the man. He was always kind, very generous. Didn't he feel betrayed? Didn't he really want to know what was going on there?

"Dad! Of course we weren't!" Malon had chimed in, her nose wrinkling, a frown tugging her lips. "Why are you so silly? Can't the both of us play?"

"In the morning, yes," he shot back at the short girl, raising a black brow as his arms unfolded, his fists finding his fat encrusted hips. "It's a little late right now for playing, however. And boys and girls shouldn't be playing with each other without supervision."

My whole faced burned with the crimson of my blush, though it expanded from my cheeks and devoured my forehead, eyelids, even to the tips of my pointed ears. He knew we were playing naughty, or at least we attempted to, before I messed it all up. And even as he was calm about it, I could read the inner fury in his eyes, his morality and initial fondness of me being the only things that kept him from killing me right then and there.

"I'm sorry," I uttered, praying it would lessen his anger.

"Don't apologize." It was here that he paused, looking at me and only me, his vision becoming narrow as his daughter didn't reflect in his eyes, but only the image of myself, gazing timidly at him.

"I trust you, child."

And he nodded at me, referencing me the same as Ingo had, but his reasons for it differed than that of the thinner man. As Ingo had chosen that name to show his authority over me, Talon actually did see me as his child, had treated me like one, allowed me to stay at the ranch whenever I please, which was almost everyday now for the last three years.

He knew he could place more fear within me by guilting me with his trust, much more than any lecture or threat he could have given.

"Thank you, sir," was all I could muster before he left off, trailing back to his cabin, remaining completely silent as he did so.

Even I was quiet as I watched his trudge away, my eyes large and shimmering in the starlight, my breathing gentle yet thick all at once. I hadn't even felt Malon rest her hand on my shoulder, squeezing me there, my skin numb to her warmth.

"Link..."

I took notice of her little whisper, snapping my neck to gander at her, a smile to her lips.

"You know, I can make a baby now."

"Um!" I hopped back from her, my face distorting dangerously as I gawked at her, beginning to fumble with my steps. "What?"

Though, she only giggled, clasping her hands behind her back, rocking herself forwards an backwards. "My body could do it ever since last year."

I scratched at my cheek furiously, still completely bedazzled on what in the world she was trying to get across to me. "What in the world are you talking about, Malon?"

She hushed me, extending her short index finger and pressed it against my mouth. Secretly, I enjoyed it, for the short moment that it was. We rarely ever kissed after that time two or so years ago when she showed me the moon. Sometimes she would kiss me just to taunt me, or to bother me, or even to shush me while I spoke. And I would pretend to be nuisanced by her, but the truth was my mouth was growing hungrier and hungrier each year that passed of my adolescence. She was the only female around me. She grew as I grew, changed while I did. We seemed to felt the same emotions, and at times I felt she was the only one to understand me.

"I get the blood now," she finished, and when I realized what she was speaking of, I lowered my head from shyness, and a bit of boyish disgust. And again, she laughed, enjoying rattling me up, being the reason for my almost constant state of blushing.

She had grabbed my hand, and before I could protest she led me away, taking me to behind the shed, so we wouldn't be seen. Against the woods she pushed me, her hands tickling my naked sides, leaving there to to entangle her fingers in my blonde hair. I recall her being very feisty at this age, more than she developed into her later teenaged years. She was experiencing such a new wave of emotions she couldn't handle, and even I had trouble making sense of these signals to my body as well.

"Malon, I think we should go to bed, your father—"

She shushed me with me mouth, kissing me fondly, improperly. I felt my my abdominals flex as he did so, my eyes closing after a moment of initial surprise, kissing her back as well.

At this age was the first time we kissed heavily. We were too young, I admit, to engage in such a behavior, but I heard it was a norm among Hylian adolescents. But no matter what was said to me, I knew we were young. But it felt so good to me, made me forget of so many troubles I faced, as well as the passions I kept hidden in my gut for my princess of another time.

Would I sound terrible that I pushed against her harder because I was thinking about the princess? Would you judge me if I confessed that I let my tongue ventured from my mouth and creep into hers, mistaking the sharp, estranged gasp I evoked from her to be that of Zelda's? Foolish, I was. I knew I was kissing Malon, but in my mind it was Zelda. It always was Zelda.

Malon did not reject my advances, did not pull away from me, disgusting with the mingling of our tongues. Instead, she massaged hers against mine, tickling the roof of my mouth, by body shivering even though I was beginning to heat up.

My hands traveled, palms searching and finding skin, fingers trailing over the flesh of her arms, ticking the skin of her neck. And then I flowed over fabric, one hand holding her cheek, our faces moving from the fervency of our kiss, lips gliding against the others, tongues dancing within our cheeks.

I flowed through fabric over her chest, and there did I grasp her small breast, my thumb massaging the tender swelling over her nightgown. For a moment she let me, her body contracting, back arching, toes wiggling in the grass. But that moment was brief, for she pulled away from me so fiercely, pushing me back against the wood, her face boiling red as she clutched at her chest, refusing to look at me.

Silence overtook then, except for the gentle rhythm created by our breaths and pounding of our hearts.

She hardly spoke to me for days after it occurred, when I had grappled her. And in my subconscious, Talon's voice repeated itself over and over again, how he trusted me. I was plagued, haunted by it for many weeks. Eventually, Malon and I had resumed to our normal relationship, but we had opened a new door now, one that we could not close. We were blossoming into sexual beings. And while she dreamed of me, I used her to fulfill my dreams of someone else.

I do not want to sound scheming, or selfish, or a betrayer to the farm girl. I did love her, I really did. My love for her was a special love, one I reserved only for her. However, it wasn't a love a man should have felt for his lover. You see, my damn infatuation with that princess, the one I could never see again—it was destroying me! I wanted her so badly I could taste her perfume on my tongue. Oh, I could still remember the fierce, feminine smell of her. And sometimes when I breathed in Malon I could really smell my princess.

And when I would realize it was not her, it never was her, and it would never be her, I admit that I would feel saddened, but never disappointed by Malon. She was a wonderful girl, the sweetest I had ever met. And I do not regret my time with her. It was the only stable thing in my life.

There on out, I knew I was becoming a man, changing in ways I had never understood. I recalled being in a man's body before. Yet, traveling through time never allowed me to witness what came in between childhood and adulthood.

I found that growing up made it much more difficult to keep my emotions and lusts hidden within me, for more often would they erupt from the depths of my mind, and slowly begin to consume my body.

CHAPTER SIX: The Princess

Part One

As much as I attempted to avoid her, there was a time where I visited the Princess Zelda.

It was only once, and the only time I saw her after my time in Termina was several years later, at the age of seventeen.

That was nearly seven years without seeing her, speaking to her, letting her know of my survival. I wondered if she was waiting for me, praying to the goddesses for my safety, wondered about me all this time. Perhaps I should have gone to visit her sooner, once I had returned to let her know that I was still alive.

I knew she believed that I was dead, because she would have been the first person I visited upon my return, such as she had been the first person after the time travel.

The goddesses knew that I desperately did want to see her, the moment I was found by the Kokiri girls, stepped foot outside of the woods. Did my heart breathe for Zelda, think of Zelda, yearn for Zelda. Her name dripped like honey on my mouth, and I found myself licking my lips whenever I would murmur it, wondering if it tasted just as magnificent as it sounded.

She was such a naïve child, we both were. We had led Ganondorf to the Triforce, creating such a mess that led to the creation of two different worlds, it seemed, separating me from the real her, the one I considered my princess, for she was the one I promised to protect and save. The one here, she did not know the life I did, what her other self knew.

Isn't the idea frightening? Imagine having two versions of yourself, not knowing what the other is up to, whether you are dead in one world, or what kind of person you had become! Yet I was one being, one Link, one man, one body. Zelda was split in two, and as I agonizingly wanted to believe both of her were the same, I was too afraid to find out for myself.

I came to warn her. That was it, after she sent me back I went to find her, to warn her about Ganondorf. She had sent me far enough to fix our wrongs before we had the chance to partake in them. My warning saved Hyrule, and I received her eternal gratitude.

Perhaps here I would be known as "the boy who warned the princess," perhaps not. But I did participate in stopping the evil before he could claim the Triforce and take Hyrule, before he murdered the king and rid the princess of her father.

She had made the right decision, sending me back. But all the pain avoided was still experienced in the Other Time, and I pitied them, felt empathy. I wish I could have fixed things here and then went back, back to her, back to my people, helped rebuild Hyrule alongside her. But I would never dare open the Door of Time again.

I recall a moment when I was fifteen, and I sat with Malon on the mound of the ranch where the horses roamed. We mingled there quietly, not for romantic intentions, You see, my relationship with Malon was for a long while a rather platonic one. At this point, we were not lovers, and did not always communicate romantically. There did exist a growing tension between us—that I was certain.

Though our kisses were scarce, I did consider her my girlfriend. I was not the first to think of the term. But when the children would see us playing together in Castle Town carrying crates of milk, they would call her my girlfriend, and even Talon had begun referring to his daughter as such when he spoke to me. Then, Ingo, and visitors from time to time. To Hyrule, she was my girlfriend, and though neither of us acknowledged it, she nor I denied the declaration.

Yet, despite what others around us believed, I didn't see the both of us as an actual couple. We were friends—very close friends. As the years passed, I found myself telling her some stories of my life. But the truth came out in pieces, and being the smart girl she was, Malon had begun to construct the puzzle.

I was a little closer to reaching my sixteenth year, but at this time Malon and I were the same age. We were alone as the horses rested, the stars shining beneath us, our backs on the ground, hands cupping our heads. We were tracing images with the stars, connecting the glimmering twinkles.

She had gotten a little excited as her eyes traced a familiar object, her faces lighting up while her finger pointed exuberantly at the black sky before us.

"There! Right there! Do you see it? It's my father!"

Blinking, I pulled my palm from beneath my head to push back several strands of my golden bangs that were itching at my eyes. I squinted at the sky, unable to see the outline of her father.

"Where? I don't see anything."

"There, Link! See? There's his nose!"

She sat up, nudging my side so that I would follow her movement to raise myself as well. With a sigh, I nodded, resting inclined against my elbows. Tilting my head, my eyes traveled the tracing of her small index finger. She repeated the same actions several times, waiting for me to finally acknowledge that I was seeing the same thing she was.

"And his eyes—look, here's his hair...Come on, if you see the nose the rest of it falls into place."

No matter how many times she pointed it out to me, I still could not see a portrait of Talon. But, I humored the girl, emitting a sharp gasp as if I were suddenly enlightened, raising myself to sit up just as well-postured as she was.

"Holy goddesses! You're right!"

"See, Link? It looks just like him!"

"He's even got that same clever smirk."

I was taken aback when she frowned at me, using the length of her fingernails to clump dirt from the ground then throw it in my direction. As I shut my eyes and curled my body to avoid the contact, I rolled away from her several feet. Yet, she rolled with me, in a faster speed until she grabbed the the sleeve of my shirt and pinned herself over me.

"You little liar!" her melodic voice mused.

Looking up towards her, I merely blinked. I could have easily pried her off of me, but I rather enjoyed this little position we were in.

"What do you mean?"

"He is not smirking! You didn't really see what I was talking about. We were only making fun of me!"

"Malon, come on, I wasn't—"

My sentence interrupted with an eruption of laughter, as her seemingly innocent finger had found their way underneath my shirt, where she begin to tickle me relentlessly. There was a devilish grin to her pretty face, with a little sinister dimple forming to the left of her lip.

"Malon! Please, please, stop!"

She was a merciless young lady, her hair blowing against the gentle breeze while her knees dirtied as they groveled themselves against the dirt of the ground, digging into the grasses while she persistently tortured me with her wiggling hands. I had faced many tortures and pains of my life, but none had ever reached the degree of tickling. It was a hopeless, never-ending sensation.

"Malon!"

There was something about the tone of my shriek that made her cease. Even after she had stopped for several seconds, my body continued to tremor, my skin feeling suddenly raw and delicate to any touch. Once I was able to grasp hold that she finished her torment of me, I swiftly composed myself and sat forward, bringing my knees to my chest to my chest to protect me in case she decided to inflict her girlish attacks on me once more.

I wasn't breathing heavily, but my breath was rather audible, my mouth agape while I exhaled, my body continuing to attempt to calm itself after that vicious encounter.

"Fafore, Malon!" I groaned, shaking my head fiercely, as if I were trying to rid of any excess tickle in me. "Don't ever do that again! I thought I was going to pass out."

I expected her to say something silly in response, or further tease me in some way. But when all I heard where the chirps of the crickets and hum of the wind, I snapped my neck towards her abruptly, my brow lifting curiously as I wondered if she had left me without my knowledge.

Yet, there she remained, beside me, very quietly. Even under her dress I could see her press her feet together, the indent apparent on the fabric. Still clothed in her working attire, she had gotten the dress a little dirty from her work with the animals earlier that day. But the apron on her skirt seemed a lot muddier now, that she had been frolicking me with me.

Even I had kept on my working breeches, my boots warming my feet and begging to be yanked off after laboring in them all day. The excess length of my hair was tied back away from my face, though if I removed the ribbon, the golden strands would reach just about to my shoulders. It still did not stop several pieces of hair to stick out messily, as my head appeared to be a very nettled, dirty mess.

There was something more to Malon's presence than simply her physical appearance. I noticed her expression just then—the gentle slant of her brows, the perfect line of her mouth. Her fists were full of grass as she continuously pulled the plant from its roots in the ground.

Here, I scooted closer to the girl, moving steadily until our bottoms bumped. This allowed her to immediately look at me, our eyes locking, her tightened muscles relaxing just a little bit.

I smiled at her. "What's wrong?"

Her lips curved slightly in an upwards motion, while my hand traveled to her shoulder, then continuing further until I began to mingle my index finger in the thickness of her hair. There was a blush to her face as I did this, her smile no longer forced, her eyes closing pleasantly.

"Nothing."

As I took a moment to stare at her oddly, I had almost forgotten that I had even asked her a question. Even she gawked at me awkwardly, expecting me to counter her statement. Both her auburn brows were raised, inquiry lurking in the blue of her eyes, while her breasts gently rose and fell from her breathing.

Though I stuttered for a moment, somewhat distracted by her, shifting my position in the grass, my knees shaking a little more as I pulled them close against my chest, my back curving dramatically. I barely heard her soft sigh when I let go of her hair, resuming back to my uncomfortable state.

"Why...why are you so quiet all of a sudden?"

I saw her stature ease at my inquiry, her head tilting as if she wanted to rest against my shoulder, but not quite finishing the movement.

"I was just thinking..." She paused here, and I let go of the hold on my shins, my legs folding in a comfortable manner while I waited for her to continue. The look on her face expressed a small frustration in her, her nose wrinkling and thumbs fiddling as she searched for the correct words in her mind. Her eyes were towards the sky.

"Well, I was just thinking," she began again, her gaze on me now, shifting her bum so close to me we were almost overlapping, "...that, you're almost like a stranger to me."

I had to laugh at that one. It sounded too sincere to her, however, and with a grimace, she smacked my shoulder.

"Link! You jerk!"

When she began to repeatedly hit my arm, I forced myself to stop, clearing my throat as I did so, hoping to rid of any lurking chuckle that remained there.

"I'm sorry, Malon, but...I seriously don't understand. I've been here with you for five years. You've very well become a good friend."

A smile tugged at my lips while I spoke, though she crossed her arms, huffing her face away from me.

"I'm quite familiar with your personality, no doubt. But everything else you private to you, you keep secret from me."

"I told you about Termina." My tone lowered.

"And Termina is all I know about you. Did that even happen, Link? I mean, I tell you about how my mother died and in return I hear about some suicidal moon—"

I was going to interrupt her, my mouth agape as I did not plan for any specific words, but would allow whatever chose to flee my mouth fly freely into her ears. I honestly could not believe what she said to me, to mock what I told her, one of the only people in my life whom I trusted to speak of any personal matter.

How could she accuse me of such a distance, when she was one of the only few people I had ever opened up to? There was a lot more to confess, this was certain. But she knew of my troubles, she knew them quite well.

Yet, even as I intended to interrupt her, she stopped herself.

There, she stared at me, her mouth open, as if she were to finish her statement, but no sound emerged. Abruptly, her lips pulled together, her face softening, a gleam of guilt glimmering in her pupils. Bewildered by her own reaction, my eyes enlarged towards her, where I blinked repeatedly, oddly.

"Link, I'm—I'm really sorry. I was very out of line."

There was no attempt of an apologetic hug from her, or any gesture that suggested the same. But, for some reason, I wanted to kiss her—hold her, do something. I started to feel very alone, and I wanted to reach out for some type of comfort. Yet, I kept to myself, our bodies slowly moving apart from each other, until a reasonable distance created between us.

There was an extended silence. "It's okay."

We had been glaring wearily at the ground, and even as I spoke with a steady voice, my eyes remained where they were. Malon looked at me, however. Her neck turned to look at her, and though I could feel her gaze, I refused to return the glance.

"Do you remember anything about your parents?"

How was I to respond to that? All that I knew came from what that little Deku sprout had informed me of in the Other Time. None of it were my own personal memories. It was one of those questions that filled my chest with an unwanted heaviness, that I needed to look at her, my eyes watery.

"I only know what I've been told."

"Can you tell me?"

I wasn't surprised at the extent of her curiosity. She had revealed so much to me, and did expect the same in return. And this would not be the last time she'd attempt to pry private information from me. She did not do it for selfish reasons, I knew that. She saw the depth that lurked in me, that I was hiding such a big part of my life that I was trying to turn myself into a different person.

She wanted to know who I really was.

But I knew she would laugh if I told her.

I took a deep breath, yet it came out sounding like a gentle sigh. Leaning forward against my bent knees, my chin rested against my coarse palms, while I gazed into the darkness of the sky, consumed with the tiny specks of stars that lightened the world.

"During the Hylian Civil War, my mother was injured, and she stumbled into the Kokiri Forest. There she left me as an infant, and soon after she died. For my most of my life I believed I was a Kokiri."

Though I couldn't remember it, the story played out in my mind—the chaos of the war, a mother and her baby, a woman finding the Kokiri Forest and the Great Deku Tree taking the child in. I could almost imagine what my mother looked like—blonde hair such as mine, long and beautiful. Her body was probably frail and weakened, yet contained a gentle beauty underneath. Perhaps I had inherited her eyes as well, and the angular shape of my face.

"When did you find out you weren't a Kokiri?"

Instantly, I froze at her next inquiry. Malon's voice was gentle, her tone soft and sympathetic. The means of which I learned the truth were acquired through an extraordinary journey, one that was beyond her (or even my) comprehension, and one of which I wasn't sure I was even allowed to express.

Was my journey a secret? Is that why Navi fled after we returned? What was my life to become now? Perhaps I really was trying to create a new identity for myself, as the one I already acquired frightened me immensely.

Without my immediate knowledge, a warm tear trickled down my cheek, continuing past my chin as I felt it sodden my neck, and finally ending its miserable trail dissolving in the collar of my shirt. I could hear a delicate gasp from Malon, as well as her tiny palm touch my shoulder, while her opposing one generously wiped my cheek.

I forced myself to look at her again, and I felt captured.

"I'm sorry, Link. I'm being a brat. If you don't want to talk about it, I won't make you."

I knew I should have just accepted her apology. The conversation would have ended there, and she would probably be too cautious to ever mention the subject again. But I felt myself lost in her eyes, and while the blue of hers mingled with my own, I could see the reflection of my princess's blue eyes, gazing fiercely at me, almost accusingly.

"Zelda," I whispered.

Malon blinked. "The princess?"

I snapped out of the trance I put myself under, gently shaking my head. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing! You referred to her by name. How close are you with the princess?"

I really believe this was the first time she knew—when she learned of my obsession with Zelda. I never forwardly told her, admitted to, or even confessed it, but she just simply knew. Malon was not a foolish girl. Over the years, her ability to read my emotions heightened. And here is where it initially began.

"I already told you it's nothing, Malon."

Huffing, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Is she your girlfriend now, then?"

"No, she is not my girlfriend."

"But you wish her to be."

"I didn't say that."

We shot back and forth at one another, and the more I argued back, the less she believed me. Perhaps my demeanor was too relaxed, too non-argumentative, as if I inwardly desired her to believe my affections for the princess.

"It doesn't matter if you said it. I can see it. How can you look in my eyes and say Zelda?"

"You have the same eyes."

For some reason even I cannot understand today, she softened at this simple observation. Carefully, her arms unfolded, gently resting at her sides. The red fury faded from her cheeks, now seeming to fill with a pale envy.

"When was the last time you've seen her?"

"Five years ago."

She flinched just a bit—I saw it in her brow and shoulders. I noticed a little surprise in her stature, as if she expected a much more recent response from me.

"And you can remember her eyes?"

How could I even forget? Such an intense shade of blue—much more vibrant than mine. Her gaze had pierced me like a dagger, even as a child.

I didn't answer her question—didn't exactly know how to. I believed the more I spoke, the more flustered she would be with me, and the more I would be admitting my feelings for the princess. She was a part of me I wanted to forget. But, she was the princess of Hyrule—always mentioned, and in fact the ranch delivered to the castle. It was impossible to even go by a single day without thinking of her, even though she was not the same princess I obsessed over.

Malon saw my silence, and there she asked me another question, one a little less problematic.

"Why have you not see her all these years?"

I didn't have to think of a reasonable response. Instead, I glanced at the girl solemnly, observing how she lifted her brow eagerly, her lips curving downwards as she lingered for me. And with an ease of my shoulder, and a sigh trapped within my throat, I did answer her.

"I don't want to remember her anymore."

"You can't choose your memories."

So much truth rested in her words, and I could feel my eyes burn from the hot tears I restricted from leaving me. I knew I could not forget my time with her—here and there.

"I know."

As Malon pushed her heel against the grass, dirt clumped underneath her boot, her hands fumbling awkwardly on her lap. "Why have you chosen to remember me, then?"

"You are not a painful memory."

She had raised her gaze, and the both of us stared. No words were exchanged afterward, and at the time I promised myself that this would be that last I would ever confess to her about me. She would never learn of my obsessions, my former life. I would never speak, and she would never ask. There seemed to be a sense of clarity between us.

No matter how hard I tried to convince myself, there was no way to control the future me. I had a feeling that this would not be the last mentioning of my past, but I prayed it would be—begged to the goddesses that they might keep me from another confrontation.

I knew the extent of my foolishness. The goddesses chose my destiny—they would not help me hide from it. They had chosen me to be Hyrule's Hero, and here I was, cowering from it, hoping to live a new life that made sense to me, yet at the same time wanting to run away and look for whatever it was that the goddesses had destined for me.

Even at fifteen, I confused bravery and fear. I felt I was contradicting what I once possessed. Had the goddesses made a mistake? Did the Triforce of Courage really embed in my body at one point of my life? At times my quest in its entirety felt like a marvelous dream, for all proof of it was gone now, and all I had left were my own memories.

I had one more thing though—just one thing, that helped me believe myself when I felt the entire journey was a magnificent figment. In my little room of one of the cabins, I kept the Ocarina of Time the princess had given me. I kept it stashed in a drawer, along with my old sword, shield, and tunic from five years ago.

And I remember the song she taught me, the one that linked us, of which she told me to remember her by.

Occasionally I would hum the Song of Time, and I would have to start trying to forget her all over again.

After my moment with Malon, I continued to avoid Zelda. I stayed away from the castle, ignored the news I would hear of her. Almost two years later, I learned she was engaged to the duke of Kakariko Village, and this news swept Hyrule and all of its surrounding areas. Even the ranch.

Talon had announced it, after returning from his milk delivery in Castle Town. He told the lot of us in a matter-of-factly sort of manner, and I remember that Malon had given me a very intrigued look. Her face was quite neutral for the most part, but underneath her skin I sensed in her a desperate curiosity, to see how I would react to the news, if I would show any sort of emotion.

I didn't. I said nothing, I reacted casually.

But I felt something, a very strong something. It tore at my chest until it reached my heart, and there it lingered, tormenting my constant thoughts, my mind completely filling of Zelda and nothing but Zelda.

Even though she was not my princess of the Other Time, she was the closest thing I had to her. And very well, she was still the same person. She was the one I wanted, yet could never had. My long-lived infatuation.

She was a princess, and I was a commoner. It was a simple problem such as that. Even though she saw something great in me, even divine, I could never have her. Neither here, nor there. So I believed it better just to fantasize about the one who sent me back, the one who remembered everything I did, because it filled an emptiness in my mind that I was not the only one with these memories.

But I had reached the point where all that pretending couldn't hold me back from her any longer. And this was the first vow I broke to myself upon my return to Hyrule.

I was of seventeen years when I saw Zelda again.

CHAPTER SEVEN: The Princess

Part Two

It was a hot, humid afternoon at the ranch.

Each time I wiped the sweat off my forehead more wetness would appear in its place. And no matter how tightly I had my hair tied back—or how often I use the extent of my whole hand to sweep my fringe away from my eyes—strands of nettled hair would mingle over my face, blocking my vision, tickling my nose.

Here I was tending to the horses, particularly focused on Epona, the now grown lady nuzzling me while I brushed her. As the sun persisted to burn me, the gentle shade from Epona's stature carefully eased me.

For the last seven years, my time at the ranch had many of these same moments. I spent much time with Epona, and my escapades with Malon grew more frequent. I had reached the point in my life where my sexuality heightened, and as did hers. Many times did we need to stop ourselves—too many times during the risky nights where we experimented with our bodies.

Each time we stopped, we seemed to get further in our exploration. I began to see pieces of her skin that were virgin to my eyes, and both our hands explored the others' most tender areas, had touched one another to the point of almost ecstasy—but, we would quickly halt, of course. It wasn't proper behavior. For, I could still remember Talon giving me his trust, and never again did he hound me about his daughter.

Yet, I would be lying if I denied the gently sweet taste of the peaks of her breasts, my tongue tracing the tender mound and feeling it puckering against my lip. And how she would melt underneath me, her fingernails seeping into the nape of my neck, her mouth wet and hot on my forehead, kissing me while speaking for me to continue—yet only her mouth moved; no words were spoken. We promised to remain as silent as we could, and nothing was sounded except for the sharp gasps that erupted from her throat, and the gentle moans that left mine.

I was no longer an awkward child, confused with the reactions of my body whenever I would like of the fairer gender. I no longer wondered of the feelings that consumed me for women, the sensations of my body, the bewilderment of my mind.

But, my maddening desires for the woman I could never have continued to devour me. And the more I explored the shape of Malon, the more I became immersed in the fantasy, losing myself in the delusion that it was really my princess I was touching, her nipple I was suckling, as well as the lift of her hips whenever my fingers would stroke the moist center of her body.

There was a guilt that came with this behavior. Malon was still my girlfriend, as others referred to her as such. We had never officially established such a relationship, but traditionally this title would make sense.

I did like her. I liked her very much, in fact. Even as I was stroking the horse on that day, my thoughts traveled around her, remembering all her naked pieces, the look on my face becoming rather idiotic as I brushed Epona repeatedly in the same spot, ignoring her frustrated whimpers.

My grin was heaping and dreamy, my eyes half closed.

"Link?"

At first I ignored the voice, lost in the idea of sex. But, the inquiring tone quickly morphed into a low grumble, as I felt a hairy arm nudge the side of my body.

"Link!"

Blinking my eyes several times, I rubbed at my abdomen, my vision returning so that my eyes viewed the landscape of the ranch, as well as a curious Talon before me, his hands clutching his hips while his right brow raised with suspicion.

I blushed a little, my face level with his, as my hand found its way awkwardly to my hair, where I scratched nervously.

"Is Malon still at Kakariko Village, getting her voice lessons?"

I blinked again at his inquiry, seeing the burly take his finger near his eye, rubbing the patch of skin there. It took me a moment to take in the question, though it were a simple one, stuttering a bit before I answered him.

"Um—yes. Yes, she is. She's been gone for some time. That old woman keeps her there for a while. Malon says she's very strict."

Talon only rolled his eyes, his black brows furrowing a bit, as his fingers found the stubbly surface of his chin.

"I don't like this new time she has set up," the man mumbled, wiggling his large nose in calm frustration. "Malon's been delivering the milk to the castle for the last couple of years. I'm not feeling up to making the trip myself. And Ingo's too busy with the chickens to do the task."

He continued to complain, his arms moving about as he explained the exhaustion of the situation—how he was too tired to deliver the milk that day, how he wished he never paid for Malon's vocal teaching, as well as not understanding why the castle can't be closer to the ranch. I pretended to be interested in his rant for several minutes.

"It's not even a large order. I mean, the king has been asking us to deliver daily now, instead of out weekly crates, since there'd been a problem with the milk rotting and all. It's only a small load I could most definitely carry. But, I'm getting old. Malon, she's young. She enjoys going to the market and dealing with those guards. They don't give her trouble as they do myself, since she's a pretty one and all. All somebody'd have to do is carrying the sack over their shoulder. Not too much trouble just to help an old man."

He seemed to be giving me a very obvious look while he spoke, looking away from me several times, then returning his gaze more desperately than before. He seemed to be pleading to me, hinting around, attempted to ask me without actually forming the question.

My eyes turned bleak while I nodded along, finding myself leaning against Epona now, as it seemed even she could read the hopefulness in the man's discord.

"Well, what I'm saying is, this is a job for a young fellow, one who knows his way around Hyrule, one who—"

"Talon."

Normally, I would not address the man by his name. It always felt awkward to me, a bit disrespectful. Usually, his title to me would be "sir," or I would find a way to get his attention without using any direct reference to him. But, it seemed proper to me at that moment to speak to him so. For I knew what he was asking me.

"You want me to deliver the milk?"

He hesitated greatly here, pulling an imaginary object in his hands, tilting his head a little bit. "Now, Link, I know how you really hate going anywhere near the castle—"

"I do. I really do."

Surprisingly, my voice came out soft, and non-threatening. And as I caressed Epona to settle my unease, I saw Talon's lips fumble, pressing together so firmly the skin there began to chap.

"Well, you've never really explained how come. I'm never one to pry. But the least you could do is give a man a little information? I appreciate all your willing to do here, but delivering the milk seems like the less daunting task."

Rubbing at my sun burnt nose, I merely stared blankly at the father. How was I to explain such a situation to him? How maddening would it sound if I confessed that the sole reason I didn't want to go to the castle because I was afraid to death of by chance seeing the princess?

"I've...I've had problems with the guards before."

Heartily, Talon chuckled, slapping his large hand against the muscle of my shoulder, causing me to smile sheepishly. "Haven't we all, boy!"

"Well, my altercations weren't so good."

"Whatever trouble you've been in, that was plenty of years ago! Nobody would recognize you. Plus, you work for the ranch. They could never deny a delivery for the king."

It seemed he already decided that I would agree—which I did not—and also guilted me into not arguing that I didn't agree to this idea. Because I didn't agree. I never said "Ok, sir, I will happily go to the castle for you." That settlement never occurred.

I believe I failed to mention that Talon had always been a rather lazy worker, even in his own farm. He was a great man, that I would never deny. He was kind and generous, and very caring to his daughter. But when it came to working, he always seemed to weasel out of it, rather paying others to commit to the tasks (it seemed Ingo was almost richer than him).

In fact, I met the man passed out near a crate of milk to be delivered. Malon had been worried about him, and there he was—sleeping on the job. Throughout the years I stayed at the ranch, Talon would most often complain about his hatred for delivering the milk. Plenty of time, Ingo would do it, but once Malon grew breasts, supposedly she obtained the honor of being the official milk deliverer.

It seemed to be a reward of puberty. And several times she had asked me to join her—so that we may linger afterward, and engage in more innocently intimate activities with one another.

Yes, to go with Malon while thinking of Zelda—and perchance seeing her, as well as the risk of her recognizing me. No, no. It could never happen. I would never let it occur. I could not risk it. Seeing her again after these seven years would turn me into a more maddening person.

Why did I obsess of her? To this day, I cannot understand. For these years, she had been only a memory to me, an idea of something that maybe wasn't even real. Did I really travel through time? Was there really another Zelda than the one that existed here? Or was I merely hallucinating all this time? Did I ever even have a fairy friend, or did I imagine her to fill in the void of loneliness I encountered?

I knew it was real, however. I remember every last detail. But could something exist if I was the only one who remembered it? It wasn't that the others didn't remember, for it never actually happened here. This was like an alternate reality, per say. And I was the bizarre link to it.

Perhaps it was inevitable that I would encounter her again. Maybe the goddesses pushed for this to happen. Again, I never agreed to go to the castle, but neither did I counter Talon. So, he took what he could get out of me, and I was left with the task.

Should I even describe the small journey that consisted of my gathering of the milk, to mounting patient Epona, and venturing off into Hyrule Fields towards the very castle I had been avoiding for the last seven years?

There was nothing exciting about my trip, that much I will say. It was a regular horse ride I'd rather not explain to detail. Perhaps what was more important during that travel was the constant nagging of my thoughts, and the sensation that came over me which felt close to death.

I had experienced that sensation before, after the princess from another time had returned me as a child, and there I was in my young body, leaving my grown one.

Was I a child trapped inside of a man during my adventure? To be frank, when I was awoken from my slumber, I felt no different. My mind felt the same about the life around me. It was actually after I returned where my obsessions formed, and there the infatuations consumed me.

I never expected her to send me back. I had grown attached to her, to an extent that confused me. I didn't understand the feelings I had for her. Everything turned into a lunacy for me. Knowing that I could never see her again, but yet—she was right here all this time.

I ran back to her, ran to warn her—to see her face, to hear her voice, praying that she, too, would remember. Maybe she was the same person who sent me back, maybe she knew everything that was my reality.

I was wrong, and even before I found it out, I already knew it.

But me and her, we did share a closeness. A bond that frightened me, made me want to keep my distance from her.

So naïve...We opened the door of Time. Perhaps she was still that naïve.

~oOo~

When I arrived near the castle, inevitably, I was blocked off by several guards.

Gallantly they stood before me, spears in their clutches, almost appearing barbaric to me in a sense. Their faces covered in armor, the only humane aspect of them to show was their mouths. But, even that flesh remained a straight line on their pasty complexions.

I felt like a child standing before them, knees inward like an infant, holding the bag filled with milk bottles in front of my body quiet awkwardly. What was more eerie was the silence that remained, for quiet sometime, before any of them took the liberty to speak to me.

"What, boy."

It hadn't even come out inquisitively, but more like a coarse command. Gulping, I adjusted the collar of my shirt, the chugs of milk clinging together from within the satchel, the sound echoing quietly.

"I come from the Lon Lon Ranch, with a delivery for the king."

My voice tremored a little as I spoke, not out of fear of them. Oh, goddess, no! I had out-maneuvered these minions several times in the past. In fact, if I really wanted to, I could have just snuck into the castle and handed the milk to the king myself. It would have been a lot easier than this.

But, perhaps they could just take it from me, and let me go on my merry way? Was that too hopeful of a thought? They wouldn't let me past them that easily, would they?

"Show us the bag."

Glumly, I untied the opening, revealing its boring contents.

I founded it strange how they never seemed to move, and I was unable to see the movement of their eyes do to their armor, so they constantly appeared like statues to me. But, oddly, one of the men did move his head, and the man he turned to returned his buried gaze, and there they both nodded in unison.

"You may proceed. Timothy will be the next man you see. He will lead you."

That was it? No further investigation of me? Was it that easy all this time? I would have never snuck around in the first place, if that was the case. How did they know it was milk I carried in those jars, and not some type of poison for the king? Not even a name?

But they parted for me, and allowed me inside. And looking at the whole lot of men awkwardly, I stepped through the entrance, only to be greeted by yet another guard.

He was a bit shorter than me, yet appeared almost identical to the other men I had encountered. His neck moved as he traced the length of my body.

"Your purpose?"

"Delivery," I muttered, clearing my throat, "from the Lon Lon Ranch."

"Where is the girl who usually comes? The pretty one?"

Somehow I knew I would run into this question, as I was sure that they would rather see Malon's familiar face than mine. But, as I tightened my grip on the bag, I vaguely rolled my eyes.

"She could not come today." My answer was simple, though it seemed enough to satisfy him.

He didn't take the satchel from me, but tapped my shoulder blade, proceeding me to follow him. Now it made more sense why Talon had always loathed this new means of delivery for the castle. It used to be so much simpler. Now one needed to go through a series of guards in order to drop off the goods.

We walked through the maze of the courtyard, my boots flattening the grasses I stepped on, the beauty surrounding me bringing back an overwhelming sense of nostalgia.

Seven years had passed by so quickly for me, since the last time I had ventured near here. It was just as green and vibrant as I remembered it. I felt like a dull existence there, dressed as a farmer with earth-tone clothing. I was used to the lack of color I had lived with. But being in the vicinity of the castle flooded my mind with jabbing memories of who I once was.

My life had been colorful and adventurous, and Zelda seemed to embody the color I had known. I remembered the geography of this maze, remembered just how I could get to her. It would be too easy. I could stamper there with my eyes closed. We had passed the entrance. And this Timothy fellow had barely looked at me, but just walked ahead of me, his arms placed perfectly still at his sides.

"That young girl, she is quite a catch, don't you think? The one who usually has been bringing the deliveries for the past few years."

He spoke with a thick, deep voice, though he purposely brought out a boyish tone, to appear more innocent in the intentions of his discord. Bleakly, I nodded along, while the mangled thoughts that consumed my mind traveled through my brain with merciless speed, as I kept finding myself looking back behind me anxiously, my brows lifting.

"Yes, she is quite beautiful," I murmured after a long pause, a tint of a blush to my cheeks.

"She has grown into quite the fawn. A loveliness even our princess would envy."

I believe it was right then—where he mentioned her, that my knees grew weak, and the already swift pace of my heart beat began to thump with a ferocious speed. Goddesses, why did he mention her? Already I could not remove the fear of her out of me, and he needed to speak of both Malon and the princess in unison!

Thought it was not long ago, I was still rash for my age. Only few years have passed since my true maturation. But, at the time, I was still a very hopeless and confused boy of seventeen years. I had a developed sexuality that was not yet fully explored, as well as a long living infatuation with a girl whom existed in two entities.

There were two Zeldas, and only one of me. Two of everyone existed, yet I was a sole existence. But the princess was a true reality here, and she knew of me. She had cared for me once, before I disappeared from her life. And I kept her trapped in my heart, because I didn't know who I was in this lifetime.

"Yes, that cute little farm girl...Is she in search of a husband? Betrothed, perhaps? She must have several suitors lined up, a girl like herself. Though, I see that what she really needs is a man with connections to the castle. That family business of hers could very well expand, with a little help like that."

His affections for my girlfriend were rather nauseating, and I would have silenced him with a mention of how her mouth tasted if it weren't that I suddenly stopped following him. Yes, I simply ceased walking as the man continued to carry on, his voice became more difficult to hear as he stepped further away from me, not realizing that I was no longer dragging by his side.

What was I thinking? Even I was not certain. Actually, at that point, I didn't even allow myself to think, knowing that I would be quick to change my mind if I were given the chance to think my actions through.

So much folly resided in what I did next. Goddesses, there were guards everywhere, and also existed the chance that the girl would not be in her garden, and there I could be caught and never allowed near the castle again—or worse, arrested, or perchance bringing some trouble to the ranch as well.

I wasn't thinking logically. My passions led the way; the yearning I felt just to see her again, only for a second. Just to see what she looked like after seven years of pleasant life in the castle, instead of the years she kept in hiding disguised as a Sheikan warrior.

I had gotten this far respectably, without suspensions. I knew the rest of the way to her garden, could remember the pattern of the guards and how to avoid their appearance of me. Though I was not as sharp witted as I was at ten years. I was almost seen by one of the men in watch, needing to hastily duck behind the bush that concealed me to keep the man from spotting my presence.

As I felt the sharp pine from the bushes scratch at my skin, I bit my lip in apprehension, my eyes squinting and filling with water. My foot had slipped on the grasses, creating some audible noise, and there I stood frozen, upon hearing the silence and lack of bustling from the guards on duty.

"Did you hear that?"

A rumble of different male tones captured my ears, while my bum slid painfully on the ground, my body focusing on stopping the shake of my knees. I wasn't a small person, well above the average height for a Hylian man. Hiding myself deemed very difficult from my time as a child. It wasn't too many a time that I had visited the princess before. In fact, I would call us almost strangers by society's standards.

Then why—Oh, goddesses why—was I risking everything just to get a glimpse of the person I had promised the rest of my life to avoid?

How hard could it be, to avoid Princess Zelda? She was a difficult person to reach naturally, but here I was crawling like a rat on the grasses of the courtyard, my nose tickling against the well watered dirt, feeling it clump underneath my fingernails as well.

Once there heard no more rustling from me, the men continued onward to their "guarding," which consisted of walking around drearily, the lack of love for their jobs very present in the demeanor. Perhaps if they had been more alert men—had built a passion on protecting the royal family and viewed the experience as more than just a tiring service—they would had caught me every time I attempted to sneak within the borders.

They were not those type of passionate men that the king believed he had working for him. The Hylian guards created a predictable pattern in their walks around the field, and it was a not such a daunting task managing to pass without them noticing.

But when I at last had outsmarted every last one of those men, and stepped foot inside the garden that belonged to Princess Zelda, my immediate instinct was to hastily run away and return to gracious, magnificent Timothy and throw the milk in his grasp, then leave this forsaken area and never, ever come near here again.

All that was my intention, as I instantly realized what I was doing, and how frightened I was to encounter the girl after all this time of no contact. And I was going to leave—I swear I was—but a harmonically beautiful sight had seized my eyes, and there I stood at it, mesmerized, as if someone had put a feverish spell on me, prohibiting me from any movement, any breath; my body turning cold yet feeling impetuously warm, my hands flexing as if I were to grab something, yet all I felt was the heat of the air tickle my fingers.

How could I describe the reactions of my body at the sight I witnessed? I would need hours only to briefly indicate, but not even the most intense of words could distinguish myself at that moment. It washer, I saw. It was her.

And goddesses, did she look different.

CHAPTER EIGHT: The Princess

Part Three

It felt as if my being had left my body, and there my spirit stood watching myself, seeing the frozen form in front of me.

I appeared as a statue, a very awkwardly crafted one. My feet faced in the direction of the garden, but my torso was turned, ready to very well leave the area. However, my neck uncomfortably stared in the direction of my legs, eyes wide and trembling—the only movement apparent on my body.

It wasn't the beauty itself that kept me immobile. I had encountered various beauties throughout my whole complicated existence, from the curvacious sins of the Gerudo Valley, to the deep pine green of the Kokiri—to even the fair redhead girl with whom I resided with on the ranch.

Beauty was not a new idea to me, it was not something I was afraid to see. But, what I witnessed was more that just a lovely scenery, adorned with a fresh face and an overwhelming blast of colors and fragrances. What kept me still was the pang of nostalgia that overcame me, as well as the deeply rooted fascination at the sight of her.

I know, I know. I am hesitating to describe her. On would expect she would look like the same seventeen year old lady who had sent me back in time. But, amazingly, she did not. Though the same prettiness lurked within her, her appearance was a different one from the other princess I knew.

I caught her in the center of her garden, filled with a wider array of flowers than it had been laced with seven years ago. It seemed several aspects of the castle had changed over the period of time. And Zelda was no exception.

Her eyes were closed, revealing a gloss of violet on her lids. Only the smallest hint of color there, covering the large mass of skin that covered her eyes, hiding the large ovals of blue. Her hands were free of gloves, and delicately polished. Though I was not too close to her, I could see from that distance how well kept she was, of course I would not expect less from a princess.

What struck me most about her was her hair. It did not resemble the long, lushness that my princess held. No, no. Not nearly as voluptuous. It was a shorter cut, ending just below her shoulders with gentle wavy curls, capturing the shape of her face, the blonde illuminating under the strict sunlight.

I watched as her hands picked at the flowers, her lips in a line that resembled the glumness of her guards. She seemed relaxed, but not one that occurred naturally. I witnessed a tension in her shoulders, a fierceness in her plucking of flower petals. Her eyelid twitched while her eyes remained closed, everything around her silent. Quiet, peaceful, and beautiful.

This was the time to get out of there as quickly as I could, to flee before she took notice of me. Desperately, I ordered my legs to move, so that I could escape this putrid innocence I had walked into. It wasn't too late, I just knew it. There was still time for me to go before I would make a mistake.

Why wouldn't my body move? I had lost control of my muscles, even my lungs would not listen to me. Angrily, I begged and pleaded to myself: Link, get out of here! Do not complicate your life any further! Leave and never come back here again.

I almost listened to my reasoning, my legs beginning to heave through the grasses, the dirt scuffling against my boots as I attempted to turn myself. But it was already too late, for her eyes had opened, and once her vision caught hold of my presence, I saw the blues of her irises sparkle with fear.

With a gasp, the princess stood up sharply, revealing to me the length of her gown, the fabric silky and laced with blue, her shoulders adorned with golden plates, while her hair blew softly, though no wind existed in this hot weather.

Her small hand reached to the skin of her lips, her fist clenching there, and body twitching as if she were to run and call for her guards—to hurry and get help from this trespasser. But, quickly did she stop herself, but instead took careful steps towards me, the broadness of her eyes remaining.

She did not walk directly up to me, her dress dragging on the ground and arms falling daintily to her sides. Her posture scared me, as she stopped a few meters before me, not daring to come any closer. I believe at this point I had dropped the satchel of milk, my eyes widening with every second I witnessed her, the beating of my heart ringing through my ears, paining my head.

Here the both of us stood, for several long moments, merely staring at the other. Her face squinted in frustration, as she studied the features of my face, tracing my body carefully with her eyes, her mouth puckering just a bit while her lips parted.

She was trying to figure out who I was, I was certain. She saw something familiar in me, and wanted to unravel the mystery of this Hylian who had strangely shown up in her garden. But, I suppose all this did not take too much thought, as the dreadful obviousness of the situation at last sunk in, and I knew when it happened because of the absolute transformation in her expression.

Zelda's eyes broadened so dramatically that they nearly consumed her whole face, and her lips completely parted to reveal a very soft, painful moan from the muscles of her throat. With glittering eyes, the fingernail of her thumb went straight to her teeth, biting at the manicured part of her with restlessness, her body seeming to shrink as her back hunched.

I didn't run to her, but in fact, remained just as still as I was. She came to me, however; pushing herself to where I could hear her heels digging into the dirt and destroying the beauty of the grasses and flowers by leaving a line of her trample. As she approached me, her arms swung around my neck, while her face buried in the broadness of my chest, and there I felt a hot moistness leak into my shirt, burning my skin.

It was such an emotional encounter that I continued to feel very afraid, hesitating to wrap my arms around her, conflicting images of Malon and the other princess flashing in my mind, forcing me to feel more bewildered than I already was.

But, goddesses, there was a smell to her that rattled my brain. Never had I gotten this close to the princess, had felt her body on mine so compactly. She felt like water. Such an odd comparison, but no other word could describe her. Despite the dreary heat, her skin had a refreshing coolness, as if I had been suddenly, mercifully drenched at that moment, to where mt face buried in her hair, and I hugged her back just as violently.

Can I confess how much I wanted her, just to have her all for myself? How I dreamed of ravishing her, kidnapping her, taking her as my own and living with this constant perfection that she seemed to possess. My young mind was filled with dreadful lusts for her, captivated by so much emotion that I could not pull any of them apart.

I kissed the top of her forehead, nibbling at her hair, and even that tasted better than any fruits I had ever picked up from the markets. As a rage of indecency burst from me, I felt the girl continue to cry on myself, cradling in my embrace, afraid I would disappear if she let go.

But, oddly, she pulled away from me rather quickly, in which I stumbled backward just a little from the suddenness of her gesture. Quickly she grabbed my hand before I could comprehend what was happening, to lead me deeper into her guarding, pulling the both of use down to hide within her concealment of plants.

Neither of us had yet to speak. It was a wordless reunion at this point, and I believe the both of us were too stunned at the circumstance to immediately say anything. Words would have to be carefully chosen, as there had never been too many of them conversed between us.

I remembered every word she ever told me, here and there. I wondered if she kept the same fondness for me, was just as captivated as I was. And when she brought me down, I sat on my bum with much discomfort, flowers poking at my skin, the sun beating down on me with extra vigor.

But here, she gazed at my face with the wonderment of an infant, her fingers reaching out to touch my cheek, cupping her palm there, while her fingertips grazed my skin. Her bottom lip trembled as her mouth parted, shaking with a mixture of fear, confusion, and a momentary joy, as I found myself relaxing in her touch, her gaze softening as the blue of our eyes danced together.

"You're...you're alive."

Her voice...It was still the same. The exact same. So close, in fact, that I felt a new sense of dread fill within my chest, to where a frown tugged at my mouth.

"You look—you look so different."

She was in awe of me at this point, her brain seeming to remember the young boy she encountered seven years ago, now face to face with a man. Her hand had moved from my cheek, as her fingers began to trace the bone structure of my face, over my jaw line, then trickling down my neck, thus sending shivers creeping up my spine.

I had yet to say a word to her, even still. I was too afraid, too nervous. Thoughts of leaving continued to tease me, but I couldn't go through with it now. I was finally here with her. After all those years, I was once again face to face with Zelda.

"Princess," I whispered at last, my lips too timid to say her name.

She didn't smile here, but her lips squirmed as she removed her hand from me, leaning backwards, clutching the grasses on the ground from which she sat. Perhaps my voice plagued her, just as much as hers did me. Though, I never knew what came over her just then, but more tears continued to leave her eyes, falling carefully one at a time, dripping down her chin and continuing their path along her neck, never seeming to dissolve or disappear.

"Princess Zelda," I spoke again, scooting closer to her, trying to take her hand as a new sense of confidence overcame me. But again, she resisted me, shaking her head with a fury now that I had never seen before.

"You were alive all this time," she mused, glumly, again sharply moving her arm before I could take hold of it. She chocked out a laugh, though no humor resided. As her eyes remained downward, I looked at her intently, regret beginning to torture me.

"I thought you were dead, that something had happened to you. I wondered for all these years what had become of you."

As her tone raised, her neck snapped to glare at me, pain lurking in her pupils, more tears staining her face, but without her former collectivity. We both stared at one another, intently, our auras seeming to connect and form into one flaring form. Though we were apart, I could feel her, feel her rage, her anger, her sadness, and confusion.

"Yet, you've been alive! Alive and well! And I can barely recognize you now."

"You haven't even given me the chance to speak."

Her brow rose at my ballsy comment, her arms slowly folding across her chest, her expression suddenly softening for some unknown reason. As a sigh fled her mouth, she gave me a strange glance, one I could not decipher or decode its meaning.

"Why are you here, Link? Why have you decided to show up after all this time?"

I wanted to directly answer her, but I found no logical explanation for my random appearance here. I had come just to see her, pushing away all my fears away for that short span—and once I did encounter her, I wanted to go back, back before there was any confrontation.

"I missed you," was all I could say.

Maybe it was the softness of my voice when I spoke to her, or the fact that she, too, missed me to an extent that I was unaware. Whatever it was, her face churned in agony, an agony I never wanted to see in that face ever again, one I had been trying to avoid all this time.

"Then why have you kept away from me?"

Her statement came out distorted by her crying, and quickly she raised her knuckles to wipe at her face, her skin stained from the light paint that had been applied onto her eyes. So worried she had been for me, in constant thought of how I was. She had in fact presumed me dead, but in a sense she was correct. That person I had been once was in fact gone. I had ceased being an adventurer, and transformed myself into a commoner.

I was afraid to touch her again, felt unworthy to. I should have stayed away from her, and continued my life with Malon. Why did I come here? To be reminded of what I could never have, what could never be?

"I was afraid," I answered her, grief hovering over my words.

"Why would you be afraid of me? I thought we were friends!"

"We are friends!"

"Have you been Hyrule all this time?"

"Yes, but—"

"Then why have you never visited me? At least let me know you were alive! How could you call yourself my friend if you purposely avoided me for all these years!"

The more she growled at me, the more upset I became. I knew she was right, but what she didn't know was the reasons for my distance. I couldn't tell her, however. She could not understand. She did not know about the other part of her that existed, and about the adventure I had returned from when I went to see her last.

She knew none of it. All I told her was to stay away from the Door of Time, and to warn her father of Ganondorf.

"I did not avoid you."

She chuckled at my plea with sarcasm, flipping blonde locks away from her face, her nose wrinkling in apprehension. "You did not avoid me?" she repeated in disgust, cleaning more tears from her visage. "I am having a very hard time believing such a thing. I just can't process all this so unexpectedly! How do you expect me to react when you show up with no explanation after being a mystery to me for seven years?"

My breath heaved as I moved closer to her, this time managing to grasp her wrist before she could pull away from me, forcing out gazes to meet directly without any interruptions. I could feel the fury of her breath burn my neck, a weakness appearing in her eyes, a flare to her nostrils.

So close were our faces that I felt the need to close the minor gap between us, to claim her mouth as mine, to immerse myself in the beauty that was Princess Zelda.

"It would take me those seven years to explain to you everything you would need to know to make you understand."

My voice was thick and hushed, cracking as I spoke to her.

"But do know that you're existence has been a constant thought, and has been tormenting me since I was a young boy, that I did leave Hyrule for a time, so that I could finding a new meaning to my life. For, since you became a part of it, you also became a part of me. And no matter how hard I tried, I could never pluck you out."

There was a simultaneous romantic and threatening nature to my statement, and Zelda reacted with a scowl, yet her eyes remained dreamy as she gawked at me.

"If I am such a reminder of torture, then why have you come back?"

"My subconscious led me to you. And I could not fight it."

"And where do you belong, in your conscious state?"

"At the Lon Lon Ranch, where I now stay."

Eying my attire, she nodded bleakly in comprehension. "So that explains your new appearance. Are you working there now? Have you become a farmer."

"Yes, princess. I so humbly came to deliver the daily milk."

A smirk carefully planted itself on her lips, while she glanced at the fallen heap of jars from where she had found me originally standing. Here, the conversation took a flirtatious turn, my hold on her wrist releasing, yet her fingers found themselves intertwined with mine.

"But, I thought you were a hero. Why presume such a mediocre life?"

I hesitated to answer her immediately, a sudden tenseness contacting every muscle of my body, watching her head tilt in curiosity.

My hesitation turned into a failure, because I never did answer her inquiry, and it remained a mystery to the both of us.

"I missed you," she, too, confessed, after seeing that I would not reply to her.

I blushed, my head lowering, but my eyes continuing to reach to connect with hers. There existed a warmth in her gaze, which seemed to ease me a bit, and closer I found myself leaning into her, wanting to kiss her, but not allowing myself.

She did not look like the other Zelda. Not only in appearance, but in her very nature. She seemed much more composed, and less inhibited—not quite ready to take on a role as queen, appearing more innocent and just as naïve as she was as a child. I wouldn't have been surprised if even now she suggested we open the Door of Time and play with the powers of the Triforce. She didn't know, she just didn't know.

Yet, she had just called me a hero. Perhaps she believed I was one, could sense my destiny heightened by the goddesses. She saw something special in me, from when we first had met. She was in my dreams, and I was the boy in hers.

"I feel like we have such a history together, though I've only spent such a short time with you."

Furrowing my brows, I listened to her speak, my fingers fumbling anxiously as she removed her hand from mine.

"Whenever I'd imagine you, I could see your face. As if I had seen it before—your grown face. I would see you in my dreams, and wake up in tears, because I really believed that you were dead, and you were too big of a mystery to me to lose you so quickly."

Hey eyes glossed over the calming blue of the sky, watching the redness of the falling sun swerve interrupt the light color, a faint smile cowering on her lips.

"I could imagine you playing the song I taught you, the one that was only ours. On the very ocarina that I gave you—" She looked at me quickly. "You still have it, don't you?"

"Of course," I replied, a bit dreamily.

"And do you remember our song?"

Pausing for a moment, my eyes wandered as I recalled the melody in my mind. She seemed a bit nervous, awaiting with tension, until I began to whistle the notes of the Song of Time, in which she eased with a grin.

"Has it ever helped you?"

I scoffed a laugh, quick flashes of Termina entering my mind. "More than you could ever know."

The both of us chuckled, like old friends catching up on lost times. I was stunned at how the conversation had turned from heated and emotional to a very friendly one, but a pang of longing did linger over me, as it was painful looking at her without ever having her.

"There has been a bit of renovation here. Father is trying to make changes. Once he passes and I become queen, he wants to leave me with an organized structure. But, it seems he is making things a bit more complicated than they were before."

As I scratched at my head, I definitely had to agree with the princess's reasoning. "I thought Talon was just being lazy when he complained about delivering the milk, but it seems one needs to get through a series of guards on a daily basis just to do a simple a task."

"Well, ever since Ganondorf was arrested for treason, my father has been trying to be a lot more careful about how things enter into the castle."

Here, I merely looked at her, becoming very interested. "So, he was finally arrested?"

"A little after I saw you last. A Gerudo woman second in command came and confessed to the royal courts about Ganondorf's intentions. Then, several of the guards caught him using black magic, which he promised my father he would never bring into Hyrule."

She explained these events to me with relief, not knowing the true power that the man had really been capable of. To her, it almost seemed that they had caught a villain before his crime, instead of trapping a demon before evoking absolute chaos and destruction.

Perhaps it was better that way, for everyone's sake. She did not need to know what me and her other self were plagued to live with.

Squirming uncomfortably in the grasses, I cleared my throat. "What has become of him?"

"He is still awaiting trial. There is rumor that he will face a greater punishment than whatever the courts would deem him."

Then, looking around her to secure her sense of privacy, Zelda leaned in closer to me, her lips pressed against the opening of my ear, her hand cupped near her mouth.

"I heard that he could be tried by the Ancient Sages."

I merely blinked at the revelation, a bit uneasy knowing that Ganondorf had yet to be sealed away in this time, and a bit afraid of what more he could do before then.

"But there is no need to worry. The kingdom is safe from any harm he could inflict now."

Unlike her, I was not as relieved. She spoke like a pampered princess, confided by those around her that cruel, conniving Ganondorf would never come to bother her family ever again.

"There is one thing that has always interested me particularly about you, Link."

At the sudden softness of her voice, I raised a blonde brow timidly, managing to straighten my back while her lower body scooted next to mine. I could feel the fabric of her dressed touch me, while several strands of her golden hair trickled over my shoulder.

Gulping, I pulled at the collar of my shirt awkwardly with a single finger. "And, what would that be?"

"You told me we needed to stay away from the Door of Time."

My expression remained neutral.

"You never explained why, though."

"It is a revelation I came upon difficultly."

She would not accept my simple answer, however, further leaning on me as if to taunt me with her beauty, hoping to retrieve the truth.

"What could have happened? Ganondorf himself confessed he was after the Triforce. We could have stopped him by obtaining it before him."

In return, I merely shook my head at her, wishing I could implant all I knew into her mind.

"The man is a lot smarter than you think, Princess."

And that seemed reasonable to quench her thirst.

Even though she ceased to interrogate me at this point, Zelda did not detach herself. Instead, she allowed her body to mold against mine, resting herself on me, to where my chin nestled against the top of her head, my hand finding its way to the small of her back, where I gently stroked her.

How innocent the rest of the world seemed to me at this point. I had been trying to regain that sense of innocence that everyone else possessed, that cheerful ignorance about everything that surrounded them. Why did I have to remember? Why couldn't I be just as clueless as the duplicates I lived amongst?

It would be unfair to call them "duplicates." They were the same people, who had undergone different experiences, and grown into different individuals because of it. Zelda, herself, seemed to fall into this category I created in my mind. Only one other living creature existed in this world who shared my eccentric experiences.

"You know, you've become just as handsome as I imagined you to be."

Startled by her sudden words, I sucked in both my lips for a moment, as she leisurely removed herself from me, yet withheld a closeness to my body.

She did not speak to me with an enticing tone, as I sensed a sheepishness to her voice, and now in her expression as well. Her face was just as red as mine, differing from the pale whiteness that glazed her skin.

"Link," she whispered to me, almost pleading. Her breath hovered over my face, warming me, sending me into a momentary rush of lust; one that I could not control or even fathom.

Closer we moved, until her lower lip played with my own, my tongue begging to creep out so that I could taste that soft pink flesh.

I saw her eyes close, a gentle sigh to her mouth, and there I took initiative to be the one to press my face forward, claiming her mouth as my own, basking in the feel of her flesh, the taste of her skin, the sensation as her trembling hand clasped the back of my neck, allowing me to kiss her with all the passion that my body contained.

It was as if honey dripped from her lips, and hungrily did I devour the sweetness that leaked from her. She squirmed against me, attempting to keep up to my face, a moan trifled in her throat, the sound barely coming out as a tender whimper.

She struggled to breath, managing to take quick gasps whenever my lips glided against hers, changing positions of the exchange, as I bit at the bottom of her mouth, out teeth clanging together several times as she began to push just as urgently as I did.

Zelda was such a magnificent sin to me, and so utterly innocent. She responded awkwardly to my kisses, not sure what to do with her hands, her mouth puckering oddly at certain points, as well as the consistent nervous tremble to her overall demeanor.

There was no consensual rhythm acquired, and the more I kissed her, the more my hands began to loom over her body, as well as my tongue daring to leave the harness of my mouth, sneaking into her own, to dance with her member as well.

My boldness frightened her, I was sure it did. Her eyes shot open as my palm grazed her breast, and her body flinched when our mouths became so deeply connected that she could feel my tongue encouraging her on.

She was not so exposed as I was to the concept of maturation. I knew I could not have her the way my body wanted her. With a cry, she departed from me, sending the both of us backward, the sound of our heavy breaths filling the vicinity.

Unable to comprehend what had just occurred between us, I clutched at my chest, my eyes wide and gleaming, hair falling in front of my face, yet I made no attempt to move it aside. Carefully, I looked over to the princess, my knees closing together as I observed the anguished expression that loomed over her face.

Her mouth remained agape as she looked onto the grasses, her eyes filling with tears,

"Link, I—" She paused, making a weak attempt to look at me. "I am betrothed."

It was a painful reminder, but I nodded in clarity. "Yes, I...I know."

"I cannot have you."

Her straightforwardness hurt me, and I wondered if my eagerness and pressure had brought on her statement. Or, perhaps the reality of our situation had made itself clear to her, as it always did to me. Everything would always reserve back to our social classes, as well as the laws that applied to royalty.

"I, too, have a commitment I must remain loyal to."

I expected her to look at me with confusion, but no surprised lurked in her stare. To this day I don't know if she knew I was referring to Malon—whom I had never mentioned to her—or simply another girl I had been courting. But it was apparent that both of our circumstances made any liaison between us impossible to undergo.

"I would suggest an affair," she hummed, dirt staining her fingers as she picked at the grasses. "Yet, I would hate to bring you to endure such a dangerous risk."

A part of me wished to argue with her, that I would go through anything just to have her. Yet, the greater sense of reasoning stopped me from speaking so boldly, as I began to question if living a life of even more falsity and deception was one that I truly admired.

One of our final moments together was simply here, in her garden, exchanging the last of our fancies to one another. I remember how Zelda smiled at me, the last smile I would ever see of her, and how that image corrupted me just as every other memory I had with her did, for it was filled with a simultaneous hope and anguish.

"I believe we are good people, Link. We are good people who are plagued by a dark shadow that will never let us be truly happy. But, I know that the goddesses have so much more in store for us. Perhaps we cannot see it, but our ancestors might. And maybe through them, we will feel a true sense of accomplishment. But for now, the both of us may feel hopeless—and though I cannot speak for what you feel—but I promise one day everything will make so much more sense than it does now..."

As her voice trailed off, Zelda reached her hand to caress my cheek, the tips of her fingers barely touching my skin as she did so, and there my eyes closed as she pressed her lips against my mouth for the last time, lingering tenderly for a moment before pulling away.

Slowly did my eyelids lift, and even though she spoke with much wisdom that she deserved that power of the Triforce all over again, dread continued to clutch itself within me, that even I found myself crying with her as well.

"We will have our ending one day."

And those were the last words she had ever spoken to me.

CHAPTER NINE: The Consummation

I knew we would never have our ending.

What an idea! Grotesque poetic mindlessness had spewed out of that girl's mouth. She knew nothing of the real connection the two of us shared. She even so casually had suggested an affair. For such an innocent princess, she sure did bring up a rather grown up topic.

I was angry at this point, but not at her. None of this was the fault of Zelda. She was just as innocent as the rest of them were. I could not blame her for what she could not know or understand. Quite frankly, I didn't know exactly who I was upset with, if anyone. Maybe it was life itself, or perhaps the three goddesses. My life was in their hands, so to say, wasn't it? They had brought this fate upon me, and knew very well what they were doing.

I was too young to be complaining about "my life," it seemed. I was still a young man, but I felt much, much older. I had lived years that did not count now. But why couldn't they? What if I declared myself to be—let's say—twenty-five? Would that completely be a lie?

I never felt this frustrated. I managed to hide it very well, and live my life with some ease. But after my encounter with the princess, my emotions were in more of a disarray than they had ever been.

Goddesses, the princess.

I knew I should have never gone to see her! How awkward it was pretending to have lost my way for a good hour or so, running into a couple of angered guards and explaining to the men how I had been on a mission to deliver from the Lon Lon Ranch, and lost track of good old Timothy. I had managed to stay out of trouble, but remained under suspicious eyes. That would be the last time I would ever let Talon coax me without an agreement to ever go near that awful place.

The sun had set by the time I returned to the ranch. A cool breeze filled the evening at the absence of the sun, which relieved my boiling skin, but failed to rid the heat of my temper. Even Epona seemed agitated, as I could hear her whimper with relief when I brought her back to her home.

Grumbling under my breath, I unsaddled the girl, fumbling with the reins so she could rest without all that extra baggage on her.

"Damn it, I can never loosen these fucking things. Talon needs to invest his plump ass into getting more efficient gear for these—" Grunting, I aggressively pulled out a knot. "—damn horses."

Vulgar language dispersed my mouth coarsely, like violent poetry throughout the night. When I finished with Epona, a sigh escaped me, where I began to pet her gently, hoping to at least ease her of any discomfort.

"You are lucky to be a horse, Epona."

Did she understand Hylian? Probably not. Her whimpers were most likely jibberish, meaning absolutely nothing. But, at times I believed she could really understand me.

"You don't know the fucking things I've had to go through. Ever pulled out a sword and found yourself seven years into the future?"

She huffed, scuffing her hoofs against the dirst.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

I found myself immersed in a long, pointless conversation with her, confessing every aspect of my life I could never admit to others, even my farm girl. Everything from Princess Zelda, to Ganondorf, to the damn spiritual stones, the time travel, the two different existences.

"There's another Epona out there, somewhere. How does that make you feel, Epona? That two of you exist?"

I was going to go onto a rant about Termina, but it was there that I stopped myself. Blankly, I let go of petting the horse, blinking a bit moronically at what exactly I was saying to her. Why did Epona need to be burdened by my troubles? To her, I was a whining Hylian wasting her resting time. Goddesses, I was venting to a horse!

Sadly, I laughed at myself. It was not heartfelt or sincere, or one that emerged because I felt anything to be humorous. I laughed with pity for myself, or better yet, with disappointment.

"Imagine if Malon were here. She would never believe the story you just heard."

"Try me!"

As I stumbled backwards; a terrified grunt scorched through my throat, my heart thundering against my chest while a blast of giggles clogged my ears. It only took me a moment of composure before I saw that the surprise attack had come from the redhead herself.

Merrily, she laughed, her palms holding her face, her head shaking as the chuckles fled her mouth like a tumultuous storm. As I clutched at my chest, I couldn't even speak, my mouth agape but no words able to form on my lips.

"Malon! Fuck!"

I covered my mouth immediately at the harshness of my diction. When I had been finally able to get a mouthful out, I was still in my ranting mode, and unfortunately for the first time, Malon had heard me curse.

She stopped laughing at that point, her eyes large and mouth small, all the while glaring at me oddly, without anger, yet only bewilderment.

"Goodness, Link!"

"Malon, I am so sorry, I didn't mean—"

"To say fuck?"

I desperately wondered when this maddening day would end.

Here she acted like a little hellion, resuming to her girlish antics, giggling feverishly while I turned myself back to Epona, shaking my head at the childish girl.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she sung, apparently showing off the success of her voice lessons for the day. I did admit, she was rather talented, even though she spurt such a foul word from that seemingly lovely mouth.

"Alright, Malon. Very funny."

At my aggravated tone, she was quick to cease her taunting song, approaching me with concern now, a slight pout to her lip. Pretending to be very interested in Epona, I flinched when I felt her small hand rest on my shoulder, hesitating to turn around and face her.

"Aw Link, what's wrong?"

Her voice had softened, the delicate soprano tone of her discord causing me only to feel more tense rather than ease me. Both her hands grappled each of my shoulders, the graze turning into a rubbing motion, and there I melted as she massaged the lumps in my back.

Instead of answering her with words, I merely moaned into her touch, my back hunching just a little bit, and though I could not see her, I knew a clever smile had crafted upon her lips.

"All better?"

"Yes," I mumbled.

She had taken it upon herself to turn me around, and she did, in fact, smile towards me, yet it was a warming one, her eyes sparkling underneath the presence of the moon.

"Everyone has gone to bed," she pointed out to me, taking my hand in hers and gently swinging it. "Father told me you went to deliver the milk today. I hope it wasn't too much trouble. You were gone an awful long time."

Whatever anguish she had presumably massaged out of me returned again, and there I grimaced towards her, my hand squirming away from her grasp. Her right eye squinted as I did this, as I found myself bringing the hand she had momentarily claimed to my cheek, rubbing at the skin there oddly.

"Not much trouble," I fibbed.

Though her look towards me was knowing, sensing my falsity, while her fists planted firmly on her hips. "So you say," she mused. "If all is well, then why are you so grumpy."

I huffed. "I am not grumpy."

"You even sound grumpy saying you're not grumpy!"

"Well, I'm not."

With a chuckle, she forcefully took both of my hands, intertwining our fingers. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, really. It's alright."

Rolling her eyes at my stubbornness, Malon began to pull me away, and though I resisted for a moment, I eventually allowed her to take me.

"Goddesses, Malon—"

"Don't you mean, fuck Malon?"

"Come on, I already apologized for that!"

It was rather humorous to her, and I supposed I would be just as entertained if I didn't feel so bothered at that moment. Not bothered by her, but merely the events that had unfolded, and the messy emotions that came along with it.

She had taken me to the cabin that now belonged solely to her. Talon and I built it for her the previous year, to give the only female of the ranch some privacy. Yet, it also allowed the both of us to be alone together when we would talk or experiment with our bodies. The shed I stayed in was less than warming, and none of my stuff even filled the place. I kept most of my belongings where Talon and Ingo resided, and my room was more like a sleeping grounds than an actual residence.

Carefully, she locked the door behind us, standing before it briefly to make sure the latch was secure. Behind her I scuffled awkwardly, looking down at the shorter girl with blushed cheeks, my eyes fixated on the length of her reddened hair. Even when she finished, she did not instantly turn to face me, a little sheepishness taking over her posture.

"Malon."

I addressed her gently, but with a little bit of curiosity. Slowly, she turned her body to look at me, her face tilted rather downwards, but her eyes making the effort to peer up at my face. While I clutched my hands behind my back, her fingers clasped together in front of her hips, and there the both of us lingered.

"Are you ready to talk to me now?"

As she spoke, Malon treaded toward me, the steps of her boots causing the floorboards to squeak, though the noise failed to nuisance me. Extending her little palm, the girl smiled up at me, and tiredly, I returned the friendly gesture, accepting her hand, while she led me to the rigid mattress of her bed.

There the both of us sat, uncomfortably, with perfectly linear backs, only a breadth of air separating our bodies, our palms resting on our own laps.

"So..." Malon was the first to break the silence, tapping her fingers on her thighs, then raising her gaze to look at me, a furrow to her brow. "Why so grumpy tonight?"

I wanted to smile at her wit, I really did. She was always such a pleasant source of wit, and charm. I never knew she would grow up to be so amusing.

Yet, I only inhaled deeply, snapping my neck to look back at her. With a groan, I flung my back to rest flat against the stiffness of her bed, nearly hurting myself in the process. Quickly, she mimicked me, though she carefully fell to her side, looming over me interestedly.

"I'm just baffled," I muttered, looking up at the ceiling. Darkness filled it, however. The space was vaguely lit by candles, not giving us much light. But it was enough that I could see her next to me, and when I moved my neck to look at her, the smallest of a smile crept upon me.

Walking her fingers to my chest, she twiddled her them against the fabric concealing my skin, gently stroking me, while her breasts smoothed against my shoulder, her hair lightly tickling my face.

"Whatever could you be baffled about?" She paused for a moment. "Or is this that thing that is always pestering you, which you refuse to tell me about?"

"You are half correct."

I saw her roll her eyes, yet she continued to nestle herself against me, her elbow locking itself on my chest, the rest of her body shaping to fit my own form. Extending my neck, I allowed her to place her head underneath my chin, and thus we pressed into a position that was regular to us, our legs dangling off the edge of her bed.

"You are too young to be baffled."

Her voice was a tender whisper, her breath warming the bottom of my neck. As my eyes began to drift, I did not not find myself falling asleep, but instead was comforted by her presence, rather than tormented by it.

Wasn't it supposed to feel that way? Serene, instead of torturous? I found that with her, I felt a sense of empowerment, even though at times I would fantasize that she was someone else, which I constantly guilted myself over.

It was such a bizarre situation, concerning the both of us. And I felt that I was creating most of the troubles that existed in my life. Why couldn't I just be happy with what I had now? Why did I yearn for someone that I could never have—especially since the woman I really desired didn't even exist here?

Zelda, that damn Zelda—She, she was different. She wasn't the one that sent me back. I mean, they were the same person, but then again, they were not. And I favored the other more. Did that sound strange? It did to me. It was a completely preposterous concept.

I felt frustrated all over again, no matter how urgent Malon's attempts were to calm me or pull a confession out of me. Hastily and without much thought, I sat up, disturbing our position, in which Malon gawked peculiarly at me, rubbing at her head with tired eyes.

"What is the matter—"

As I crawled towards her, the girl halted her own statement, pushing her hands so that she could fixate herself underneath me, kicking off her boots a little frantically so that she could bring her legs onto the bed.

"Ooh, okay, if that's what you have in mind."

I removed the own bondage on my feet before hovering over her, my hands planted firmly near each of her shoulders, our eyes locking fiercely as I lingered over her.

A smug smile appeared on her lips, and there she appeared captivating in a way I wasn't used to. Her hair sprawled against her cheeks, her eyelids lowering to peer at me. With the movement of a snake, her arms lifted, her hands slithering past my shoulders, finding the nape of my neck, and while twirling the light strands of hair that cowered there, she pulled my body down, lowering me onto her, while specifically directing my mouth to land at the center of her neck.

Immediately, a gratifying groan muffled inside her throat, her body squirming beneath me, refusing to let go of me until I succeeded to satisfy her. My mouth was warm as I kissed the inverted flesh of her neck, moistening the skin she directed me to devour, suckling her profoundly.

She moaned again, this time a little louder, her arms releasing me to extend freely to her sides, her legs continuing to rumble messily. I found myself hungry for her skin, the feel of it against my mouth triggered a raw emotion inside of me, one I had trained to suppress.

We will have our ending one day.

With a grunt, I spit her skin out of my mouth, and hovered over her once more, repositioning her, noticing the bewilderment yet simultaneous excitement that sparked her eyes as I sat on my knees, lifting the skirts of her dress, then hoisting her legs open.

I believe we are good people, Link.

At the exposure of her naked thighs, I sunk my teeth into the roundness of her flesh, kissing the mounds of her inner thigh, observing her hips arch upwards at my sudden boldness. No thoughts had rationalized in my mind at this point, and all I could hear was the glorified segments of my dear princess's final monologue to me.

We are good people who are plagued by a dark shadow that will never let us be truly happy.

Further upward did my mouth feverishly trail up her leg, sucking at her groin now, my tongue gliding against the flexible area that connected her thigh to her pelvis. I felt every muscle of her body contract dramatically; stifled, sharp moans erupting from her; her toes curling, begging for justice.

She was the one who stopped me here, bringing her knees to kick me away before I could proceed in removing the covering that concealed her most delicate part. With heavy breathing, the girl sat up, clutching at herself frantically, her expression representing both appall and anxiousness.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Bleakly staring at her, I failed to answer, focusing more on controlling my breath, which was more hasty than hers. My hair was rattled from my venture underneath her dress, as even I did not know what had come over me.

Though I felt no itch, I scratched at my head maddeningly, regret pouring over me. "Malon, I am so sorry—"

She hushed me swiftly, not with words, but with a kiss. Forward she leaned, her appearance taking the form of a dog as she found balance on her knees and hands. Before I could even conclude my thought, her mouth captured mine hastily, and there I melted in the lock between us, her breath leaving her nose and warming my face.

I am betrothed.

I pushed myself against her, and quickly did she find herself sitting on my lap, grappling at my elbows, her nails cutting through my shirt and seeping in my flesh, while our mouths stayed connected as one, the kiss deepening, separating our lips.

I didn't hesitate, allowing my tongue to leave my mouth, crawling into her, and graciously she accepted it, did not cringe when she felt my flesh tickle her own, my tongue gliding along hers, then tasting the roof of her mouth.

Moans emerged as stifled grunts, and now she was the one to take initiative, detaching herself from me, yet remaining at my lap, beginning to fumble with the few buttons near the collar of my shirt. Clumsily, I attempted to help her, my fingers tripping over the buttons, only delaying the process of removal even further.

With a deep bite of her lip, Malon gave up the attempt and instead clutched the bottom of my shirt, lifting if over my body forcefully, her eyes gleaming over every inch of naked skin revealed to her. Even before it had completely come off of me, remaining trapped at my necking and blocking my vision, her palms smoothed over the muscles of my stomach, trickling down between my breasts, and I could feel my nipples puckering at the tender touch.

I struggled for another moment before I completely rid of the bothersome garment, throwing it aimlessly away from us, so that we could further continue in our exploration.

I feel like we have such a history together, though I've only spent such a short time with you.

I wanted to eat her, every part of her. I was a young man consumed by a fierce lust. Not for the farm girl, no it wasn't her being that enticed me. Though she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever encountered, and the sway of her curves did stir an arousal in me and many other men she encountered.

I was turned on by her body, and everything it represented. She was womanhood, beauty, a small sort of innocence, though not completely. Neither of us was truly innocent, tainted by the dirt of the farms, ands pasts from which the both of us continued to bleed for.

I wanted to drink the blood on her skin, take in every womanly part of her, as well as all that dirt and grime that calloused her body from the harshness of the world. I felt so deeply lost in my emotions, seeing her as Malon no longer, but a woman with a body that I could take. One that I could call my own.

This was the eruption of my sexuality. As a boy, I knew I was a sexual being, though I could not completely comprehend it, I knew it from my infatuation, as well as my constant inner search.

I didn't know if she viewed me as such—another body for her to be close to. She had turned into a mate for me, even when I hunted another woman, she was the one I returned to, the one with understanding, who perhaps was just as confused as I.

As I helped her remove her dress—fumbling with buttons, untying her apron and struggling beside her to lift the tattered gown off her body—I noticed her posture shrink. Her back curved towards me, the light hair on her arms raising at the sudden loss of heat. Her skin glowed a bluish tint in the darkness, her breasts exposed to me in their entire splendor.

Both bosoms perked, and licking my lips I brushed my thumb against her right nipple, my eyes enrapturing the large mounds on her chest. I could feel her stare beating at me, her eyes scorching me with their intensity. Yet, I failed to meet that gaze, too afraid to look directly at her face, afraid of any emotion I would see that would prevent me from advancing.

Her body was revealed to me, except for her center, remaining hidden by the small covering she wore. And I wanted to rip it off of her, desperately I wanted to. As I had done before—so briefly that time; had taken it off and touched the wetness that leaked between her legs. And the more I had touched her, the more wet she became. It was thick and warm, and how her body had twitched sent me into a feverish state that forced me to touch her more.

She had stopped me before. But that night, she encouraged me.

I cannot have you.

I kissed her with a mouth that dripped with fury, and she sucked it in, drank all of my crudeness and let me become a part of her. Her lips felt like worn silk lying under an angry sun. The flesh of her cheek was not as warm, yet still trickled a heat over my fingertips, and further did I push myself onto her, owning her body, vowing to make it a part of mine.

She fell coarsely onto her bed, her back arching like a battered woman, a gentle bounce to her breasts that fevered me. I had been in a vivid affair with her chest, fascinated by the tenderness that resided there—large and full, yet fretfully sensitive. Even the feel of my breath on them made her wince—made her hips lift in anticipation, a longing so fierce that it resembled my own.

She was on her back, head fallen against the headboard, a crease to her forehead as she tried to conceal the pain from the collision. Here, our eyes met, and a gentle apology lingered in the blue of my irises, appearing black from the darkness that cloaked our bodies.

At the approval in her face, I kissed her again, my tongue taking hers, mingling inside her mouth, stopping any moans from leaving the dry mass of her throat. She fought at me—attempting to take control, make me hers, it seemed. Even as I lied carefully over her, she pushed at me, lifting herself to sit, embracing my neck, then taking her hands to venture along the flesh of my back.

When her thumb slid against the bone of my shoulder blade, her fingernails had delved into my skin, and the closer our bodies became. Her breasts molded against my chest, and closer did I hold her, to feel the heat of her body combine with my own, while her breath heaved onto my face, burning my skin. Her tongue licked the bottom row of my teeth, exploring further behind my tongue, forcing our lips to swerve sloppily, without a determined rhythm.

With a feminine grunt, Malon pushed me down, so that I landed awkwardly onto my back, and there she overpowered me. She acted on her thirst, her undeniable curiosity and with exasperation. As I let her have her way, my throat grew dry, sizzling whenever I would take a gulp.

I wanted to take her flesh and forget everything. I never wanted to remember Zelda, never wanted to have her face haunt my dreams. I swore to rid of her in my heart, to never again long for her, breathe for her, become consumed by her image.

At that moment, as Malon had locked her knees at my hips, and looked down at me with a lust that caressed her whole body—her sexuality beamed, her sex moistening against me. That moment I decided to throw away my dreams—banish any other longings, let go of my obsessions.

Many times had I made these vows, and regularly I continued to break them. But as I heard the princess's voice ring through my ears, memories of her wanton face blurring my vision, I felt a fury boil in me. And this time, it was directed towards her. All for her.

We will have our ending one day.

No, we wouldn't. The goddesses knew we wouldn't. Fate would make sure we would never have our ending.

The skinny fingers of the farm girl battered at my stomach, making sure to finger every curve of each muscle she saw visible. Harshly did I bite down my bottom lip, tasting my own bitter blood. While my tongue glossed over my lips, my face never left hers, our eyes connected, and her palms continuing to loom over my torso.

Even through my pants and the undergarment that coated her center, I felt her wetness, and my body reacted naturally to the feeling; stiffening, contracting, my forehead becoming gently moist from sweat.

With the grace of a swan, she dived down to kiss my neck, and from there on I entered into a fierce state of ecstasy.

She breathed fire on my skin, and I could swear by the goddesses the girl scorched me. It was a pleasant type of pain, one that furthered me, sending my hands to feel the dryness of her hair, thick and nettled and feeling like fine hay.

There was a dirtiness to both of us. Not necessarily a physical dirtiness, for she smelled like the waters of Lake Hylia, mixed with the natural, sexual scent that reminded me of Gerudo Valley. The dirt existed in our actions, our wants and fierce desires, our bodily impulses.

She scrubbed herself on me, like a dedicated maid, vehemently thrusting her hips; the movement flickered like a wild dancer, the flesh of her thighs wobbling while her mouth trickled down my throat like teasing rain drops.

She took bites of my skin, her tongue flicking over my nipple, while my neck lengthened to give her further access, to defile my body, taste the tenderness of my skin, almost begging for her to seize my body with her mouth. Her fingers slid to feel the shape of my arms, clutching at every curve of every muscle, beginning at the broadness of my shoulders, then slipping further over the leanness of my forearm, her touch becoming lighter while her fingers grazed my wrists, and her touch disappeared there.

She was so close to me I could feel her heart beat against my chest, pounding violently, with no direct rhythm, while her mouth traveled forward now, her back arching like a stretching feline, as she left a wet trail on my chest.

As her mouth hovered over mine, our lips sparsely touched, the air of our breaths combining into a wave of heat that blurred the sight of both of us. I lifted myself, then, too suddenly. A little gasp sprang from her, as my arms encircled her waist, the mass of my body overpowering hers.

Silence had filled the little cabin, yet our breaths lingered. Malon's forehead creased as she pressed it against my own, and for a moment we stayed there with lost eyes. I saw the gleam of uncertainty in her face, and I knew that she didn't deserve me.

She deserved a man who could feed her with passion, but it seemed to me that this moment was not about love, for either of us. It was about frustrations, overcoming naivety. There was never a sworn confession of love. Though, I did love her. But not that type of love that she would eventually want from me. It was a physical love, a clinging love. One of comfort and convenience.

As I had said before, she knew me very well, could see through whatever I tried to hide from her. And yet, what she did next continues to startle me to this very moment. I don't know why she did this, but it allowed for events that changed the both of us. Everything changed once she did this small, simple, and clever movement.

She smiled.

Not even that—a little smirk: a feisty, yet contained, enticing smirk. It was laced with fear, one that I saw her try to relinquish, but there it remained: confidence mixed with fright. Want with denial. Oddly, I smiled back at her, for no other reason because she had grinned at me first.

Our ending.

With a fury did I kiss her, and this is when the true nature of the seduction revealed itself. I lost sight of everything around me, all except for her body, the female body. It was round and voluptuous—a perfect representation of woman. I was man and she was woman, everything that made us unique fled and there we flourished under primal instincts.

Like animals, we touched the other hungrily. I placed her down onto her back, and momentarily I gawked at her, while she lied there with her arms hugging her belly, her eyes stuck on me. I followed the shape of her body, how her stomach delicately curved, distinguishing from the rest of her.

Squirming, she grappled the garment that remained on her, and with a minor struggle, slid it off. My body trembled delicately as I had witnessed her complete nakedness, and it was a plain sight, much more simple in appearance than mine—just a small area coated with dark hair. As several of my blonde strands fell in front of my face, I took a deep breath, noticing her intrigued expression.

Clutching her knees, I separated her legs, situating myself between her. There I lingered, my hands smoothing over the tops of her thighs, rubbing at the bones of her hips, receiving a dainty moan vibrating on her lips. Salivating, I plummeted to her right breast, mimicking what she done to me, as my mouth seized the rosy peak of her bosom.

I could feel her body tremble while I continued to tease her breast, her hands undoing the tie that kept my the length of my hair bound, and as the locks fell loose, she buried her fingers deep into the thickness of the golden strands, feeling the length and smoothness of my hair. She massaged my head as she did this, urging me onward, and more feverish did my suckle on her become.

Like an infant to its mother, I swallowed the tender pink flesh. Over and over again, even when she seemed that she could take no more, clawing at my scalp, keeping hushed groans and silent roars lodged within her throat. Her whole body quivered from the erotic pleasure, melting beneath me, giving into the sharpness of the feeling.

I was ready to have her, ready to engage in our first adult act. I tested her—slipped my fingers underneath the kinky curls between her legs, seeing her flinch as I touched her, her back arching, hips tilting. Her warmth touched my skin, leaking on me with a fierceness that almost drenched my fingers. And there, I grew excited. I became overwhelmed with an emotion I had never felt before, and every other painful thought that had troubled my mind had left me for that moment, and only the both of us existed.

Man and woman—no language, no names, no boundaries. Nothing but our bodies.

She was the one to discard my trousers, eying my waist with raised brows as she gripped the hem of my pants and pulled the fabric down. First she observed the bones of my hips, until further down she went, her lip trembling once I was just as naked as her.

And there were both of our uncovered bodies—in the dark, candle lit cabin. I pulsed with a throbbing longing, and she, too, appeared anxious for what would come next.

It was all because of her smile. That one smile that made everything okay right then. But, perchance even if she didn't smile—kept that smirk from tugging at her mouth so invitingly—the outcome would have been no different.

Malon was not a vixen, not a little temptress. We spent nearly all of those last seven years together, and it deemed only natural that we would choose each other for such an experiment. It was not that I had longed after her body, so to say, for these many years, but rather a body. I had reached out to the nearest person I could latch onto, all the while developing into a young man, where I began to make most of my choices based on the concept of love.

At seventeen, however, I was vaguely aware of what love was.

And even then, I knew very well what I was doing with Malon was more child's play than anything purely romantic. She did not resist me when I placed my body over hers, trying to mold against her comfortably, making sure that she was alright as well.

Neither of us spoke much the entire time. There were few words, but more movements. And she made the first one.

Even from beneath me, the girl situated herself, shifting her hips so she could rest under my pelvis, her entire face contracting when she could feel my arousal, hoisted between her legs, attempting to open her up and become a part of her.

Though I had yet to be inside her, my body quavered with a fierce nervousness, and even she had begun to cower under me, her eyes trembling like the waves of an ocean during a storm. I kissed her mouth to ease her, though I also hoped to rid of my restlessness as well. And with a deep breath that I did not exhale right away, I carefully lifted my hips, pushing her legs further outward, and then steadily lowered myself, my pelvic bone gnashing against her own, wincing as I felt myself enter her, connecting our bodies, turning us into one form.

It felt wonderful to me—such a new, unexplainable sensation. It was a new sort of embrace, with warmth and firmness that sent me into another world where nothing terrible existed.

Yet, the instant she felt me, a painful moan sounded from her mouth, as I saw her face crinkle in agony, tears stinging her eyes and falling slowly down her face. Seeing that I had hurt her, any sense of pleasure I had felt vanished. As I pulled myself out of her, my palm caressed her cheek, guilt flooding my chest.

"Do you want to stop?" I whispered to her.

She shook her head at me, almost disappointedly. "No," she murmured, her voice a little coarse. "I'm, I'm alright."

"Is there anything you want me to do?"

"I wouldn't know."

She spoke so softly I could barely hear her, and I wondered if she had intended for that bit to be inaudible.

I tried again, moving into her once more, but this time pushing slowly, my knuckles grazing her forehead while my body remained a hover over her.

Malon winced, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out. More water poured from her eyes, and when I attempted to clean them, I was burned by the acidity. When I completely filled her, I stayed there, watching her, waiting for her to direct me.

I saw her throat move when she gulped, and with shut eyes she thrust her hips to hit against my pelvis. She continued to cry, the pain failing to leave her just yet. But perhaps she was more afraid to stop, now that we had gotten this far.

With a gentleness, she moved her body beneath me, and after a moment, I, too, had partaken in this erotic dance. We had merged into one existence—her body mine now, and mine hers. Her breasts pressed against me, her legs entangled in mine, her teeth biting into my shoulder, sinking deeper into my skin with each prolonged thrust.

If there was a way to describe how this felt—how my body shuddered as I moved with her, how she made me feel so invigorated and instantly addicted to this ferocious feeling. But I knew it did not feel the same for her. By the way she clung onto me, hugging my torso like a fearful child, I knew that all she felt was pain, waiting for it all to feel better.

I stopped moving after several minutes, remaining inside her. She was baffled by this, as her eyes opened slowly, yet a wince still present near her brows.

"Does it still hurt?" I asked her, though I already well knew it did.

With a slight pout to her lip, she nodded.

With a frown, I tried to think quickly of another means to attempt to please her, recalling conversations I had had with other boys in Castle Town, gossip I overheard in Kakariko Village bars. Yet, I didn't know what to do with her, how to help her feel less pain. I only had one idea.

"Turn around."

She only blinked. "What?"

When I separated from her, the girl finally exhaled, her chest rising and falling powerfully, relieved of the large mass that had been inside of her. Her moment of relax was just a brief one, though, as I gently cradled her in my arms, carefully turning her so that she lied on her stomach. Making sure to give me several strange looks, Malon eventually complied, helping me with my efforts.

I pressed myself on her as I did before, embracing the sides of her waist, my mouth warming her shoulder blade. As she relaxed in this position, I made the movement to take her body from this stance, sliding myself inside her while holding her down, preventing her from jerking to her fullest potential.

Quietly, she whimpered, the hands over her head curling into fists. I saw her bite the skin of her forearm, eyes closed so violently as if someone had sewn her lids shut. From here, I held onto her, my body just as scared as hers, filling again with that exact rush of feelings I had experienced a moment ago.

I moved inside her, my hips gliding with the grace of a dancer, pulsing within her with a mighty vigor. She had groaned glumly for a few moments, but a change began to occur in her. As she relaxed into the pose, her grunts evolved into low moans, her legs further opening, back arching, derriere lifting to grant me further access.

It. Was. So. —Goddesses, there is no way to describe it! It was the first time I had ever done such a thing with a girl, and it felt so surreal that no words could grandly describe the emotions attached to it. Her body was so hot, I remember. And sweat had dripped from every patch of her skin. I would kiss her back, her shoulder, and down her arms while I held her, and her flesh tasted warm and salty, bitter yet sweet. It was a conflicting taste, yet I craved it often after tasting it once.

She had begun to groan almost too loudly, slamming her fists on the mattress, her knees shaking while her mouth bit down into a blanket (for she knew it was not wise to be so loud). She cursed under her breath, spilling the names of the goddesses, then saying my name repeatedly.

The pleasure had begin to fill her, for I could feel her contract direly around me, squeezing me to where I felt a small pain. And as her groans became more frequent and and intense, the faster I lunged, the thrusts of my body becoming more powerful, more prolonged. Too quickly did it all become chaotic—any sense of structure vanishing as I found myself shaking inside of her, moving faster and harder, holding her body more tightly.

All words, ideas, any sense of logic—it all left me. I knew nothing except this body, and how I became one with it, and conquered it. As I loomed over her shoulder, my mouth grazed her neck; and with dreamy eyes, she moved her face so that she could see me, and graciously, our lips met.

We kissed choppily, and very lightly, as she had been the one to swiftly plummet her face into the hard mattress, suddenly clutching at the thin bedsheets and her whole body starting to tremble like a home during an earthquake.

I didn't know what had come over her, what had brought on that lingering spasm of her body. For at least a dozen seconds she reacted this way, until at last she stopped, and lied like a lifeless heap on the bed.

Though she was still warm, and her breathing echoed. And never did I cease to keep the rhythm going, until at last I, too, began to shiver with such an intense swarm of pleasure that I lost myself for a moment.

I had escaped this—saw myself as a young child, in a tunic, with a fairy, and a smile on my face. During the climax of our feat, the image appeared briefly in my mind, reflecting the true source that I believed would dignify me, the one I inwardly knew that was not completely out of my reach.

But too quickly, did that vision blur away, and there I was left, lying down without movement on top of the farm girl, my breathing off beat with hers, so loud and audible I was surprised that Talon or Ingo had not heard.

After taking several breaths, I lifted myself off of her, the slickness of my skin gliding against hers, feeling like a drenched, defiled mess. Even my hair was slightly dampened with sweat, while I moved several strands behind my ears, my eyes searching for the ribbon that Malon had removed that held my hair back.

Unlike me, she did not sit up immediately. Moments passed, and she lied on her stomach, her back contracting and releasing as her breathing began to relax and return to a normal state. I fretted at her demeanor, wondering if she was crying, or had become upset with our actions, or perhaps was now trying to avoid me.

My fingers barely touched the small of her back before she stirred, her shoulders leading her up, body slowly turning until she faced me directly, eyes large and glimmering, expressionless. Our gazes matched, that they both held a sense of confusion and satisfaction, as well a deeply rooted fear.

We said nothing else that night. And I stayed with her briefly before I left her alone. Yet, while we lied in bed, I reached to hug her, holding her as if she were my mother, never wanting to let go.

And with a caress of my smooth cheek, she embraced me in return, holding me with the extent of her maternal instinct.

And briefy did the face of the princess tease my mind, to taunt me one last time, with a gleam of hope and sadness:

We will have our ending one day.

CHAPTER TEN: The Vow

We didn't partake in our sin every night.

I could tell as the weeks went by that Malon almost began to bore of it. It was never again like that first time, that undeniable moment of pure discovery. It began to grow as a routine, even as our positions changed and she would cringe beneath me, on top of me, or even side-to-side.

Her pleasure was more intense than mine. She would help guide me, so I would give her as much satisfaction that was possible—directing me with her hands, pressing on the joint of my finger to rub against the small, round mound in her tender area. It was a piece of her I had not been familiar with, and she had discovered it before I had. Her face squirmed as if she had tasted something bitter the first time I touched it. Raw skin, it felt like, pulsing against my fingertip.

We discovered more and more methods of pleasure in a very short time. But, Malon grew more distant from me the more intimate we became. I did as well. Though I sought her out, every time before an unwanted image would enter my mind. I came to her and she ailed me, for that moment, and then we would resume to regular behavior.

We had no flaming romance, we never did. She was my first everything, however, as I was hers. And she was my friend. Yet I never experienced a true romance with her. I wanted to—Goddesses, how much easier it would have been if I had been totally connected with her. I could have more easily accepted my new life. But alas, my stubborn heart forbade me from seeing the girl as such.

I wasn't sure if she had been in love with me. I knew she wanted me for her own, that I was certain. She wanted to keep me and have me, and was jealous of the princess. Though she knew little about the part of my life I kept hidden from the world, she was aware of how I blockaded her.

Malon hated Zelda. Whenever her name was mentioned by another, she would make a mockery. This began more after we became lovers. She ridiculed the princess's expensive wedding to the Duke, wondering how such a selfish girl could become queen one day. Malon would then stare at me, sometimes after she spoke, with that envy in her blue eyes, her hands rubbings on her hips, waiting for me to retort, to protect Zelda.

I didn't however; I didn't say a word. I had convinced myself that I removed all feelings towards this princess. On the wedding day, I spoke not a word concerning it. I pretended there was no Zelda. So Malon's words meant nothing to me.

Malon was a witty girl, an intelligent one as well. Her sense of humor often interested me, yet there existed a natural jealousy in her that bothered me. I could tell over the years, most notably during our conversation that led to her accusation that I wanted Zelda to be "my girlfriend."

I believe she knew that I did not love her as a man would for his lover. And everything just seemed to become more complex after that.

We were young, and consumed by lust. Never did we actually think there would be a fierce consequence to our actions. Yet, I really should have known. Even though I was seventeen, I was more knowing than others at that age. I knew more of the world, what existed. I knew, and kept silent, seeming like a naïve boy, and then acting like one.

I kept telling myself, if Malon didn't smile—if she didn't grant me permission to take her that night—then I wouldn't have had to be permanently bound to her. It was a shock to me one morning, when I was with the horses and tending to Epona specifically. Six or seven weeks had passed since our first intimate affair, and for several days we had not known each other.

Gently, I brushed Epona, not initially intimidated by Malon's arrival. She did not approach me harshly, or even in a manner that hinted so. She had been calm and eerily serene, her expression blank, eyes large but filled with no emotion.

I smiled at her when she came and stood calmly next to me, looking up at my face without speaking. Yet, as I saw her not return my gesture, slowly the smile evaporated, my lips curving into a frown. Letting go of Epona, I looked down at the girl, moving several strands of my fringe away from my eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Now her eyes glittered, and I saw her chest expand broadly while she took in a concentrated breath. Gently, the wind blew against her hair, and for a moment she appeared like a painting—so beautiful, yet captured by a mysterious sadness. I saw her clasp her fingers together daintily, her eyes never leaving my face.

"You must marry me."

Taken aback by her declaration, I stumbled. Epona hissed as I leaned against her to catch my balance. She spoke with no fierceness in her voice, but remained solemn in posture. Wildly, I gazed at her, my eyes large and blinking as they suddenly felt impeccably dry.

"Excuse me?" I asked, my voice rather soft.

She laughed then, just a single chuckle. And her eyes glimmered more as her glare focused on the bright sky, her mouth in a smile, but not a very honest one.

"You must marry me," she repeated, her voice a little shaky.

I went to her, holding her elbows, forcing her to look at me again. And there I saw the mixture of fear and satisfaction in her eyes. Color left my skin when I soon realized what she meant. I knew from her expression, how she could now finally have me and I would belong to no one else. She smiled only half-heartedly, because the rest of her—the bigger part of her—was frightened and confused.

My jaw loosened as my lips parted, and slowly my eyes hovered to gawk at the small curve of her waist. She looked so small, so petite. While my palm grazed over her stomach, I gulped, the blue of my irises trembling.

"Are you sure?" I wondered with a dry throat.

"Yes." Her voice was plain. "The blood hasn't come. It was supposed to come days and days ago."

Our gazes met once again, and I didn't know how to look at her. Should I have smiled, frowned, laughed, held her in my arms and cried in joy?

I remember feeling a little good at the news, somewhat joyed. It almost felt like a solution—to have someone else I could genuinely love, to help relinquish any other desires lurking in my heart. Malon's smile had faded, and there she looked at me blankly, in anticipation, waiting for my final reaction.

"What do we tell your father?" I asked at last, my voice becoming quieter. "Should we tell him you're with child?"

Her face scrunched in a small fury, as she stepped away from me and folded her arms over her chest. "Are you mad?" she blasted in a hushed tone. "Father would kill you! Then we would wed and he would resent you forever."

"Well, how can we wed if he kills me?"

My attempt to lighten the situation didn't help, as Malon just rolled her eyes at me, shaking her head. "This is no time to be funny, Link," she mused, moving her hand to rub the side of her neck. "We have gotten ourselves into a lot of trouble. We need to tell Father we wish to wed, have it done immediately, and the child would be born only slightly early. I doubt he would keep track of such a thing anyway."

I didn't have a word to say about her logic, which was reasonable, but still rather alarming. How she had approached me in the morning with such news still had my heart racing.

"How do we suggest it to him? Would he not be suspicious that we want to wed so suddenly?"

"I would rather him be suspicious, than have him know what we've done."

Her eyes shone as she spoke, and there I blushed at her gesture. Awkwardly, I scratched the top of my head, shifting my weight onto my left leg. For a moment, I didn't respond to her, and the whole tedious time, she watched me, simply waiting.

"You're really…going to have my child?"

Sighing, Malon nodded. "Yes. Whose else would it be."

"That wasn't what I was implying—"

Before I could spit the words out of my mouth, Malon had plunged herself into my arms, holding me desperately, her body trembling gently.

I stood there frozen for a second, my arms reluctant to return her embrace, the hair from the top of her head scratching my bottom lip.

"Please say you will marry me," she begged, retaining as much collectedness as she could.

I couldn't respond so quickly—I just couldn't! I should have known everything would lead to this. I had gone into this behavior so ignorantly, and both of our lives were about to change, as a child was involved.

She carried within her a new part of me, a little person who would grow up to have my attributes. What if she bore me a son? A beautiful, powerful son. I could mold him to be the person I wished to be—teach him swordsmanship, combat. Through him, I would at last gain a sense of true closure.

With a sudden feverishness that surprised the both of us, I hugged her—pulled her against me so compactly that I heard her gasp. I felt the features of her face poke at my chest, the part of her lips, the breath leaving her nostrils.

Even her own hold tightened, and we stood in the light of the morning, holding each other this way. New longing burned inside my chest, my mouth kissing the top of her head repeatedly.

"Of course. Of course!" I exclaimed.

And we parted from one another, and with a merry laugh I lifted her, noticing a real happiness take her face; and for the first time in days, she kissed me. The first time in daylight, where we could be caught.

But we wanted to be caught, it needed to be known. For the rest of my time on the ranch, Talon believed that his daughter and I were madly in love, and he was easily convinced of this folly.

~oOo~

"The goddesses watch as we unite this couple, this night in the land of Hyrule."

Our hands were united, our grips loose, not clinging but merely holding because we had been told to. Only a week had passed, and both Malon and I were standing in the Temple of Time, dressed a little more nicely than usual, but not much. Talon and Ingo were our only guests, the only ones there besides the priest to witness our permanent bonding. Both men were quiet.

Malon was beautiful, very much so. Yet as I stared down at her, her prettiness did not capture me. Neither of us smiled, but kept a very fierce and expressionless eye contact. Her lips were straight, uncolored. She breathed so lightly she appeared lifeless. We didn't flinch when the holy man placed his palms over the linkage of our hands, his skin lighter than the both of ours, and much more coarse as she pressed down firmly.

I don't remember what his face looked like. I can't even recall exactly what I was wearing that night. I barely looked at the man. All I can remember is Malon's face, and the racing of my heart, as well as a blur of words spoken by the deep, thick voice.

"Tonight, they shall become one entity, and never be separated until death. Their union shall represent the union of the goddesses, and they shall each treat each other with respect, dignity, and love throughout their lives."

I remember that particular phrase, and how it scared me just a bit. This would be so permanent; Malon would be my wife at this point. We would be connected in an even more intimate, recognizable way. I had felt her slightly tighten her grip on my hands, yet her expression stayed the same. She looked just as fearful as I felt, but I saw it—that relief and satisfaction that tugged at the edge of her mouth, wanting to show that vivid, triumphant smile.

She, too, should have known what would have result in our liaison. Perhaps she knew this child would come, and even wanted it to. I still do not know, for I have chosen to believe that the both of us were not ready for such a responsibility, that we had been victims of childish curiosity.

"Young man, do you take this lady as your wife? Under Din, Nayru, and Farore, please answer."

"Yes," I replied immediately, my voice echoing throughout the temple. I gulped down the lump that has instantly clotted my throat, feeling the dryness sickle down painfully.

"Young woman, do you take this man as your husband? Under Din, Nayru, and Farore, please answer."

Oddly, Malon had been the one to pause, her eyes continuing to peer at me, a nervous wiggle to her lips.

"Yes," she replied, after a moment.

Silence had consumed after our vows, and this sort of silence droned throughout the capacious area. Still, I stared at her, and still, we both were solemn.

"The two of you are now one. Kiss your wife to seal this sacred union."

It was an automatic kiss, where my eyes remained open as I leaned forwards and captured her mouth. A small applause from Ingo and Talon echoed in the Temple briefly. After a few seconds, I pulled away from her, and there I stared at my wife, the woman who would have me forever.

The one who carried a part of me within her belly.

Our wedding night was not magical, as Talon awkwardly spoke to me in private about taking good care of his daughter, and to be gentle with her. He allowed me to move into the small cabin that was hers, and nothing remarkable occurred.

I had been ready for sleep, lying on the stiff bed with my eyes glaring at the ceiling, my mind without thoughts. Malon had been next to me, very still at first, as if she were already sleeping. But she had then gotten up and straddled me. Her knees locked at my hips, and with a hover, she lowered my pants.

It was dark, and I could barely see what she did, but I felt her. We didn't look at each other, did not speak. The only sound that emerged was my deep groan and the sharp gasp from her throat when she sat down on me.

I felt her pelvic muscles contract, while her hips began to rock, and vehemently the center of her body became a ragged sponge that scrubbed against my body. I held her waist gently, and that was all I did; I held her as she completed the final step to take me her own, bouncing herself on me, whilst I could feel myself going in and out of her, continually greeted by the warmth and wetness.

My eyes rolled back into my head as I groaned, consumed by the pleasure, her act of possession. She became quicker, harder, more messy and uncontrolled. She rode me like a wild horse, running through a rough field, thrusting on me with more passion that I had ever seen come solely out of her.

I became hers that night; I was her husband. And even now, her claim is still to me. Even after I left the ranch years later, I remained hers, for we were bound now by several different forces.

She was a big part of my life, yet not the most significant. Despite what I wanted to believe, I could not hide from those other pieces of me forever.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Dream

My daughters' names were Angmar and Cedany.

I saw the blue eyes of Angmar during my eighteenth year, born with hair as auburn as her mothers. She was the loveliest creature that I had ever witnessed—so small and helpless; and immediately I fell in love.

Her sister Cedany arrived a year later, a bit prematurely and with a noticeable lazy eye. She was a bald little thing, and it took several months before her hair began to grow in gentle curls. Again, the hue was her mother's, but her eyes matched mine in shape and tint.

I was in love with both of my beautiful daughters, but I held a small arrogant disappointment. Malon had yet to give me sons. I knew I was not a king, nor of any other political status. It shouldn't have mattered whether or not my children were boys. But when Cedany was born, I felt a bit anxious.

I wanted a legacy: a boy who I could teach and train, so he would grow up to fulfill a much greater destiny than mine. I had my daughters, who even at their tender age they began to help aid in the farm work. They were very lively, witty, and adventurous.

Once I had suggested to Malon to teach them the art of swordplay, but vehemently she refused. She wanted her family to have no further relations with combat. Even my own heroism was a thing of the past—never did she want to hear of my journeys as a child, and when I told the story of Termina to the young ones at night, I would notice a roll of her eyes.

I soon began to realize that Termina was my only true adventure that existed in this time. Any trace of heroism in me left, it felt like, as I evolved into a farm boy.

To me, I had befallen a tragedy. Yet, Hyrule existed in peace—Ganondorf was to be tried, the princess married and ready to make an excellent queen. There was nothing left for me in Hyrule except my family. I had my little wife, with my little daughters, on our little farm. It was so simple and comfortable. The more I stayed on the ranch, the more disgusted I became with my life, and not even my children could rid me of that feeling.

I had once left Hyrule in search of a friend, and because the kingdom could offer me no more. Perhaps I belonged away from here, back in Termina. Sometimes I dreamed that I should have stayed, or continued to wander until I found another place that needed me.

I ignored the warnings and ventured into the Lost Woods without a fairy, and there I was found by the Kokiri. Was I meant to return? Was this a plot from the goddesses? I might not have come back by choice, but I did stay out of my own free will. Here I remained and altered my identity, as if trying to erase a past I could not completely understand.

At twenty-two years was when I began to constantly be flooded by these thoughts. From the time of the birth of Angmar until then, I seemed to have completely accepted this life. I had many doubts upon marrying Malon. Even as I stayed with her family, there still contained in me some sense of hope that the goddesses would eventually reveal their greater plans for my life.

But as the years went by—and they were quick years—the goddesses remained silent. For nearly twelve years I stayed with Malon, and slowly did the faces of my princess, my fairy, and the familiar man cloaked in green wielding the Master Sword hide in my memories.

~oOo~

"Do you girls know that there is a door in the Temple of Time?"

"You mean the door to get inside, Daddy?"

As the three of us lied sprawled on the bed, I couldn't help but huff a chuckle. Both little redheads clung onto me in the dimly lit room, batting their thick eyelashes like porcelain dolls. Angmar and Cedany each wore a matching white nightdresses that dangled over their tiny little feet. I could see them wiggle their toes in anticipation for their late night story telling.

Four year old Angmar was the one to make the cute assumption, her chin leaning onto my chest, her forearms resting upon me. She blinked peculiarly, the bangs of her short hair falling in front of her face, while her lips remained in a slight pout. Little Cedany sat oddly on my lap, playing with her feet, showing off her youthful flexibility.

I laughed at Angmar's theory, hearing her giggle gently when I ruffled her hair. "No, beautiful. I am talking about another one inside the Temple of Time. A secret one."

"Secret?" exuberantly chimed in the squeaky voice of Cedany.

"I never seen a door inside the Temple!" countered Angmar.

They immediately bamboozled me with whines and questions, and with a gentle roll of my eyes I lifted myself up to sit, taking each little girl and bringing them in lay in front of me.

"Girls, listen. The door is not a regular door. It doesn't even look like a door." I patted their shoulders to further hush them, noticing Cedany's bewildered expression, and the grumpiness that lurked on Angmar. My oldest child crossed her arms over her chest, her smile in a very exaggerated frown. It was odd how frustrated she had become, and peculiarly I raised a brow at her.

"It's not a door then, if it doesn't look like one."

I smiled. "It is a door, Angmar."

"Then why doesn't it look like one?"

"Well, it opens like one."

"But why doesn't it—"

"Let Daddy finish, Angie!"

We both looked at the littlest girl, as Cedany had become quite interested in this story. She had been attempted to move her fingers through her long, tangled hair, yet those tiny little morsels had gotten stuck in the nettled mess half way down. Her lips were moving about her face, glaring at her older sister, starting a series of contests in which each little girl gave the other a strange face. I allowed them to continue this behavior for a moment, until I cleared my throat with utmost exaggeration, slowly lifting myself off the bed as if I were about to leave them.

"Well, I guess you girls don't want to hear about the sword that sits behind the door."

Instantly, both of them grabbed onto the sleeve of my shirt, fiercely pulling me back down with as much might as they could muster from their little bodies.

"Finish it, Daddy!" cried Cedany, near tears.

"Yes, please! I'm sorry I was bugging you."

Almost in choreography, they clasped their hands together, pouting in unison. It was a very grotesque pout that each girl exhibited, as they extended their bottom lips as far as they could, exposing fleshy mounds of inner lip. I never did find it to be cute whenever they did that, yet I was always vexed by it.

"Alright, alright. I guess I'll tell you."

A burst of giggles and hand clapping erupted, echoing within the room, ringing in my ears.

"Tell us, tell us!"

"Please, Daddy!"

I purposely paused, snickering as if I were a child myself, somewhat amused by their impatience and anxiousness. They had begun to bounce on the bed, clutching onto the thin brown sheets, further begging.

"Listen carefully, and I will tell you all about it."

They hushed at that moment, their lips sewn shut. Angmar and Cedany crawled to each side of me, cuddling against my body, nestling their chins on my shoulders. Possessively, they grappled my arms, continuing to flutter their lashes hastily.

"The door in the Temple of Time is called the Door of Time."

Angmar giggled. "Where is it?"

"At the alter. That big wall behind it."

"But that's not a door, that's just a plain old wall!"

Little Cedany had been the one to counter me this time, her nose wrinkling with disappointment. I could tell I was losing the interest of the girls, and quickly I told them the rest of the tale, hoping to avoid further interruptions.

"It is a door, however. And I opened it once."

They remained silent now, their eyes large and trembling with a new found excitement.

"One needs three special stones to open that door, and a very special ocarina. And many years ago, I did that. And the door opened, and behind the door, was a sword. This sword was only spoken of in legends, and only the Hero of Time could pull it."

"Ooh, you told us about that legend last time!" chimed in Angmar, shaking my shoulder harshly. "I remember it, I remember! The Hero of Time is the one who will save Hyrule!"

I had briefly mentioned that to the girls, before Malon had overheard and scolded me for speaking of such nonsensical legends to the children. She never was too fond of the stories I'd share with them, beginning to find me delusional.

But, at that moment, she had not been present, tending to the horses and instructing me to put the little ones to sleep. I would never directly reference myself in the stories I would tell them, but that night I found myself saying a lot more than I had even told Malon.

"The sword was called the Master Sword, and not many people believe it exists. But it's real. And I saw it."

"Did you pull it?"

Feeling a nervousness creep within my chest, my neck snapped over to glance at Cedany. Her voice was loud and high-pitched, while I could swim in the ocean of her eyes, losing myself in the mystery that lurked there for a moment.

"Do you really want to know?" I asked with a tug of a smile on my lips. Carefully, she nodded.

"Are you the Hero of Time?" Angmar had spoke to me now, and I looked at her with a smirk.

"Do you think so?"

Cedany coughed. "Are you, Daddy?"

I let them ponder on this, witnessing the confusion of their miniature faces.

"But Daddy, you're a farmer. If you were, wouldn't you be out saving Hyrule?"

I cringe at her statement, feeling more overwhelmed than I thought possible from the questions of the four year old. I never expected to hear such a thing from her, but the naivety of a child allowed me to see the situation how it really was: I had become a farmer in a time of peace. I no longer resembled a hero, but a farm boy. No one could see my swordsmanship, my bravery. It had all become hidden from cow milking and horse brushing.

I usually would not let them see me frown, yet I could not control it. Almost automatically, the smirk curving my lips dissolved into disappointment, and seeing my unease, Cedany reached her small hand to cup my cheek, caressing me gently.

"You're a hero to me," she spoke.

I still could not smile, however, even despite her comfort. "Hyrule is in a time of peace right now. There is no need for a hero."

"But isn't a hero supposed to look for adventure?"

As my eyes focused on the determined face of Angmar, my nostrils gently gently flared. I saw a lot of myself in her, even as she lifted herself off from me and sat on her knees, curling her tiny fist powerfully. The light scent of hay hovered over her small body, teasing my nose with its awkward smell.

"You shouldn't be here, father! You need to go where people need you're help!"

My lips had parted, as if I were to speak, but no words could come out to retort the boldness that emerged from my oldest daughter.

"No, Angie! Daddy needs to stay here with us! He can be a hero at home. He takes care of the aminals and us and Mommy!"

"But shouldn't Daddy go where he belongs?"

"Here! He belongs here!"

And when I saw the tears leave Cedany's blue eyes, I quickly butted into the argument. Pulling the child closer to me, I reaches out to hold Angmar, but she was reluctant to return to my embrace.

"Girls, I never said I was the Hero of Time. Do I look like a hero?"

The cabin had turned silent then, except for the gentle whimpering of the three year old who sobbed on my shoulder. Angmar still eyes me carefully, however. She was always a smart one—a clever little girl who held so many of my traits that it frightened me. She wanted me to be the Hero; yearned for a father who lived for adventure, displayed bravery and valiance.

Goddesses, I was the Hero, though! I was him, that damn hero! I had convinced myself I wasn't at times, that there existed no hero in me. I was a farm boy. A common farm boy.

Perhaps this is where my true anguish began, from a simple story telling with my young girls. Angmar was so young, but her logic resembled mine so many years ago. I was only ten when I set out on a journey that changed me. I followed the path of the Hero, the path the goddesses had chosen specifically for me. I was the Hero of Time, the wielder of the Master Sword.

But that was years ago. And now I was sitting with my two little daughters, living peacefully in the Lon Lon Ranch.

I didn't know what fate to accept. For the past twelve years I picked a comfortable route, with a comfortable wife, in this safe environment. I stuck with everything I promised I would not do. Well, all except one. I saw the princess, just once. That inner hero in me wanted to see her, to return to her in wonderment that perhaps there still was an adventure for me, a chance to redeem myself.

She had changed, however. She was not the one I still remembered so vividly. The one who sent me back.

Wasn't I doing just what she wanted—to regain my lost years? Surely she would have approved of my current life with my family. After all, didn't I deserve it? Wasn't it what I wanted?

I never knew what I wanted. Not completely. Because I did leave Hyrule when she delivered me to this time. I left Hyrule to find my best friend. That was my adventure, my personal, longing quest. I realized I had never finished it, but given up.

"Are you okay, Daddy?"

I felt the long hair of Cedany tickle my chin, while her palm continued to sooth me, caressing my neck. A sigh fled my mouth as I looked back and forth between each girl, smiling gently.

"I think it's time you girls went to bed."

Moaning in disappointment, they each shook at my arm, preventing me from rising from the bed. Grumbling a little, I barely fought against their resistance, letting the little monsters rattle at my belly. They sprawled themselves on me, capturing me so they could avoid sleep. I could feel a multitude of feet and hands smack my cheeks several times, as the giggling hellions devoured my body.

I missed the sound of door opening, and even the dainty footsteps that followed, amidst my own chuckles.

"Goddesses, Link! What are they still doing up? And why are they not in their own beds in father's cabin?"

Malon's voice had frightened all three of us, and resulted in the same reaction. The girls and I sat up quickly, our hair wild and unkempt. At the sight of their angered mother, they took hold of my arms yet again, as I could feel the wetness of their pouts moisten my shirt.

She paused from lecturing us for a moment to pull clumps of hay from her hair, her face crinkling in bitterness as she struggled with this task. The quiet giggles of Angmar and Cedany vibrated against me, yet they had not been discreet enough as Malon eyed the both of them.

Hastily, she approached the bed, detaching the children from me and messily carrying them in each arm. I frowned at the loss of heat, while watching the muscles on Malon's arms flex as she held the small girls.

"It's time for bed, little ones. Young girls need their sleep." With that, she kissed the forehead of a pouty Cedany.

"But, mother!" groaned Angmar, tugging Malon's hair while squirming in her hold. "Daddy was telling us the story about the sword and the door in the Temple of Time!"

"Yea!" chirped Cedany, nuzzling her face on her mother's shoulder. "Daddy says he's seen the door open, and saw the sword inside!"

"Daddy's the Hero of Time!"

Goddesses, how she looked at me after Angmar's daring declaration. Malon's eyes had narrowed, her neck fiercely turning towards me. I could see her boiling, her nostrils flaring with hot steam. I could imagine how she wanted to punish me in her mind.

Her glare lasted briefly, as she regained her composure and smiled cleverly at her children. "So you're father has been telling you his eccentric tales again, has he?"

"Yes, Mommy! And he didn't even get to finish."

"Well, girls, I'm sure you can just dream up the ending. Now off to bed."

She carried them out the cabin, leaving the door open. I remained on the bed with a sigh cowering over my lips, feeling a gentle breeze come from the outside airs. As they left, I could vaguely hear the whining of my daughters, as well as the grumbling that spurred out of my wife's mouth.

"Why do you always interrupt when Daddy's telling us a story?"

"Yea, Mommy. You never let him finish."

"Because I don't want you picking up on his wild attributes."

~oOo~

"What is wrong with you, Link? I can't believe the madness you persistently tell our daughters!"

Her rant had begun before she completely entered the room, her whole arms swinging vehemently as she slammed the door shut and stood over our bed with rage dancing in her eyes. I sat at the edge of the mattress, my back hunched and eyes staring at the wooden floors, a bothersome twitch to my upper lip. Leisurely, my eyes led my face to look up at her, a stiffness to my posture as I held my hands together on my lap.

"What madness? Should they not know of common Hylian legends?"

At the ceiling she looked, rolling her eyes and huffing to mock me. "Common legends?" she repeated, pulling at the ends of her hair so roughly she almost pulled the thick strands out from the roots. "Where in the legend does it say that you are the Hero of Time? Do you really want you're daughter to believe such fantasies? The kingdom will think you to be a madman if they were to repeat such things!"

Despite her taunts, I continued to sit solemnly, my gaze returning to the ground. "I did not tell them I was the Hero of Time."

"Oh, but you saw the sword. You opened the Door of Time and saw the damn sword!"

It was then when my neck snapped to gaze at her, my eyebrows slanted in frustration. I could see the breath leave her mouth as she breathed, her hands planted firmly on her hips while she looked down at me as if I were a frivolous child myself.

Straightening my back, I glared up towards her. "That is not a lie. I did see the Master Sword."

"Do you believe your own stories now, Link? Do you really think you are some glorious savior?"

No longer could I take my wife's taunts, suddenly standing and taking hold of her arm so swiftly that she gasped in shock. As she gently moaned in pain from my fierce grip on her, her fingers turned limp, her eyes gazing at me with bewilderment now, glimmering in wetness.

"None of what I say are stories! Everything is real! All of it! I am the Hero of Time! I am chosen by the goddesses! I had wielded the Master Sword!"

A tear trickling down her cheek, Malon closed her eyes and shook her head at me, finally removing her arm from my hold as she vehemently yanked it from my grasp. Left on her tanned skin was my red imprint, her flesh gently pulsating.

At that moment I remember feeling a storm of disgust for myself. I really had begun to sound like a madman, reminiscing events that only I could recall. Even my own wife found folly in me, as she tenderly embraced her arms, massaging the area I had squeezed.

Sighing, I allowed myself to relax, reaching my hand out to her. "Malon, I'm—"

Despite my attempt to apologize and soothe her, the girl pushed me. Not violently, but enough to keep me away from her. There, she continued to cry softly, glancing towards my face occasionally as if she were trying to find something there.

"As children, I used to find your tales amusing," she began to speak with a trembling voice, her body remaining eerily still. "In fact, I had been convinced that they were real. As I grew, I believed them less and less, and I thought that growing up would mature you. But out of all the things you've imagined, this has got to be the most ridiculous I've ever heard from you."

I remember hating her after she said that. I felt pure hate. The sensation scared me, as I had never felt it so strong for anybody, including Ganondorf. I just remember that look in her eyes and how she said it, as well as the tingling that crawled its way up my spine. At that instant, I hated her, wished I never married her, found comfort in her, clinging onto her so desperately for all those years.

I felt betrayed by the only protection and understanding I thought I had. After we wed, she had begun to become more possessive of me, dismissing any claim to another life I had.

I never wanted to be hers. Never.

Would it make sense if I confessed that I hated and loved her at the same time? That, regards to what she said to me, a large part of me still felt attached to her and the comfort she provided me? Silence had consumed and our eyes locked in animosity. For minutes we started at each other, without breathing a word.

I could prove it to her. I could show her. I could find the stones—I already had the ocarina—and go to the Temple of Time, open the door, and triumphantly pull out the sword and declare who I was. I almost suggested it, the words peering on the edge of my mouth, praying to be spoken.

Yet, I kept myself from uttering a single thing. Doing such a thing would take so much unneeded effort, and she would mock even my suggestion. I also ever feared opening the Door of Time again; to be exposed to the Triforce and the powers that slept inside. This was not child's play, not a thing I could tamper with freely. A mysterious power resided within that door. One that Zelda and I had been too ignorant to comprehend. Playing with such power again would be something I promised to keep away from.

I realized I could never truly prove to Malon who I was, and that alone did not matter. My pride was hurt by it, but her sole opinion and that of others was not what truly troubled me.

It was the fact that I could never fulfill who I was that haunted me.

But I did fulfill my destiny, twelve years ago. In another Hyrule, one that did not exist here. And in Termina, that I had confided to Malon about, and yet now she did not believe me.

I was a hero. But I had become a farm boy.

Marching back to my wife, I took hold of her hand, and before she could angrily respond to my capture, I hastily kissed her lips, and there she melted in my arms, accepting her victory.

~oOo~

The darkness was ailed by a sudden blue light that emerged from the center of the nothingness.

The sprite was silent as she flew, her crystal wings beating against the blackness surrounding her, flying in circles, until she came and found me. I appeared suddenly, as I had been a part of the darkness. Only when her light consumed me did my true form disintegrate from the black and there I lied with her amidst the nothing.

When she rested on my finger, I lifted my hand up to look up at her. I wanted to gasp, but no sound left me. I saw my arm concealed by thick, brown gauntlets, and with surprise I crawled back, now examining the rest of my body.

I saw the muscles of my thighs twitch underneath the opaque white tights that covered my legs, and carefully my fingers rubbed the fabric of the green tunic hugging my torso. The fairy had flown off of me, encircling my body as I continued to discover myself, mesmerized by the familiar attire.

Everything, just as it had been, as it once was. Even the green hat concealed the tangled mess of blonde locks tied back, and my fringe hung over my face. My boots scuffed against each other, leaving marks on the worn leather. She flew over my like a goddess, and soon she began to giggle in such a nostalgic way...

So quickly she flew, I could not follow her with my eyes. It was her, I knew it was her! She had found me! At last, my best friend had returned. I grew anxious trying to capture her, to take her in my palm and keep her forever. On my knees I wobbled removing my hat to seize her, swinging it ferociously each time she flew towards me.

Yet, the little blue creature dodged my every attempt, diving every time I flung my hat to take her. And to my dismay, she flew away from me, glimmering a path through the darkness, leaving me to fade into the blackness once more.

Black it remained, until another source of light exposed itself. I could see my presence once more, feel the ache of my muscles, the weight of armor on my back. I remembered the sword, and swiftly did I reach my hand to grab it. Yet, I was quickly distracted by my hand, my lips parting tremendously as I stared helplessly at myself.

The light was coming from me, so gold and vibrant. From my left hand, the single gold piece gleamed triumphantly, reflecting in my eyes, and slowly consuming the blackness until it all of it dissolved from overpowering gold. Even I was consumed by its power, losing my form once again, this time to the light.

When I appeared again, I stood now, in a glimmering whiteness, shifting my neck repeatedly to make out where I was. Anxiously, I scratched the top of my head, biting down on my bottom lip as I further searched for the fairy, hoping to find her again.

But the light began to dim, forming a scenery. I saw it trace the bark of trees, create colorful leaves, thick grasses. It exploded into a frenzy of clouds, blues skies, and plentiful, varying flowers. And the last thing the light created was the body of a woman—sculpting her right before me, her height reaching my chest, her hair long and blonde, golden plates adorning her shoulders, and her gown pink and shimmery.

The light created her just how I remembered her. She opened her eyes to expose such a familiar shade of blue. They captured me, her dark lips remaining neutral, while mine curled into an exasperated smile. Hurriedly, I reached out to grad her, to hold her and have her before she too, disappeared. Yet, when my hand touched her face, her form disintegrated, and there my beautiful princess collapsed into sand.

Her body crumpled, so mercilessly, and I cried as I saw her grains sprawl onto the grasses. Tears stained my face, leaking from my chin, and even then I could not speak. No sound could come from me, despite my fierce efforts to force it out.

Her ashes began to consume the beautiful garden the light had create. Sand captured everything, taking the form of a violent wind as it threw itself everywhere and covered every particle of beauty I had momentarily beheld. The light was gone, and now the sand consumed.

It stung my eyes, and my brows furrowed as I buried my face in my forearm, crouching to avoid any further contact. But it was so strong, that it claimed everything. Even me. I became a part of the sand, part of the new, desert atmosphere.

Sand clogged my lungs, filling my nostrils. Desperately, I dug to escape this burial, coughing out the sand that tried to kill me. I could hear myself then, and I coughed more to make sure it was real. The sound was loud, vibrant, echoing in the bleak desert, reverberating in my ears.

Merrily, I laughed, sand staining my tunic as I carefully stood, at last free from the sand that had taken me. The grains fell messily off my body, returning back to the ground, where it continued to seal the light. The wind had stopped, and the sands were calm. And for a moment, there was nothing but me and the sand.

Then there came a single chuckle.

It was a feminine one, but her voice was throaty, and rumbled with a immodest seduction. I searched around me for its source, my fists curling and elbows locking while my eyes desperately wondered. Yet, even as the sound continued to echo, I saw nothing.

She smiled at me when I returned my gaze forward.

I shrieked at her sudden appearance, stumbling back yet catching myself before I could fall. I stood shakily as I witnessed her stand before me, her hair long, the color of fire, wrapped in a tight ponytail. She reached my height, her body barely covered, as her stomach was exposed to me. A smirk implanted itself on her dark face, her eyes glimmering as she gandered at me.

Slowly, she approached me, leaving foot prints in the sand. My heart beat accelerated as she moved closer and closer, her arms hanging freely at her side, her hips swaying with each step. She was beautiful and alluring, just as I remembered. Her name spilled from the tip of my tongue.

"Nabooru."

It came out gently, and as she heard me, she chuckled again. I saw her lift her hand with grace, reaching her arms towards me. There, I witnessed something glow in her hold—it was the light. So magnificent and fierce that it frightened me, and hastily did I turn around to run from it, but found myself blocked.

Three women glared at me, their eyes so colorful I believed I saw a rainbow.

They were beautiful and tall, much taller than I was. The locks on their hair were long and vibrant, reflecting the hue of their eyes. I stood speechless before them, my body trembling generously, my eyes large and reflecting their presence.

"Hero."

"Of."

"Time."

Each spoke to me—the first with hair of flame, the next with locks of shimmering ocean, and the final with strands of green leaves. Their faces were pale, they eyes prominent and fierce, and they spoke no further words to me, but simply nodded in unison. And somehow I understood their gesture, my head feeling heavy as I nodded in return.

Gulping to relieve the dryness of my throat, I turned around to face Nabooru once more too see her arms still extended, the light tracing something her her grasp. I took her hand before I could see what the light had created, and there she gave it to me. The light had finished its creation, but it engulfed everything before I could witness its masterpiece.

And the darkness consumed once more. Black captured me, and no sound could vibrate in my throat. I looked for the women, but I saw nothing. I could not even see myself. I saw only black.

But there was the light again. In my hand. From my hand it came again.

Yet it was not the golden piece this time, it was the object the light had created. It began to shine marvelously, reflecting over my body that I could see myself once more, in the same familiar green attire.

With a new sense of confidence empowering me, I mightily lifted the Nabooru's offering, and there in my grasp shone a sword, the blade glimmering in a silver ambiance, my face reflecting on its edges, revealing my expression of awe and satisfaction.

It was tall and powerful, so beautiful and clean. No speck of blood stained this rapier. Bringing it slowly down, I slid my naked finger over it, licking my lips in excitement.

"Hello!"

Startled, I dropped the blade and it landed softly on my lap. Now in the darkness, there existed sound, and I could hear myself clear my throat, my eyes gazing around for source of the high-pitched sound.

It found me, however—that blue sprite looming at me, appearing from nowhere. She came magically, encircling my face and giggling so familiarly that it ached my heart. But she was there, with me. She had returned, and I had been granted with a new sword.

She rested on the top of the blade, and carefully I grappled the handle and lifted it up once more to see her. She stood daintily on top, her wings emitting glitter as they flapped gloriously.

And I saw her little face smiling. Just like I remembered her.

~oOo~

My left hand was already tightened in a firm fist when I shot up from bed, my heart beating wildly within my chest.

With hope, I looked at my arm, yet saw nothing. I could still feel it however—the sand scratching my skin, the grip of the sword lodged in my fist. Yet, I saw nothing but a dim darkness. And as I became further accustomed to my surroundings, I realized I was in the cabin besides a sleeping Malon.

My lips pressed in a firm straight line, I looked down at my wife who lied calmly on her side, her chest heaving as she slept peacefully. Her arm was extended on the mattress, as if she had been holding me the whole time I dreamt.

Exhaling through my nose, I looked away from her. Everything had been so vivid, so precise that I had begun to feel an extreme panic empower me.

This was the beginning of something marvelous, it seemed. And finally the goddesses had revealed to me their hidden destiny. Now I knew what needed to be done, what I was told to by the higher authority.

I needed to go to Gerudo Valley and find Nabooru.

CHAPTER TWELVE: The Confrontation

On the night of my reverie, I had been excited, impatient. I could not wait for the morning to fulfill my destiny. Yet, when I had awoken, I thought of the situation more sensibly, realizing that venturing into Gerudo Valley with no direct reason seemed illogical, and perhaps in my wife's eyes, insane.

But I could remember every aspect of the dream so purely—the taste of the sand scratching my tongue, the cold steel of the sword tingling my fingertips. Everything felt so familiar and warming, and at the same time it frightened me.

How did that sound—the man who had carried the Triforce of Courage was afraid of such nostalgic elements? Did that make me a coward? Perhaps not, but the following morning I felt like one. I did not appear so eager as I did unsure of what I witnessed.

For years I waited for the goddesses to speak to me, yearning for their guidance to lead me to my true destiny. After a while I had begun to believe that the farm life was their eventual gift, so to say. That they had placed me with Malon to fulfill Zelda's wishes of allowing me to gain the years I had lost.

But isn't a hero supposed to look for adventure?

The words of Angmar troubled me. She barely had lived four years, and yet she uttered such a statement that led me to think of what my true purpose was to stay in Hyrule. Would looking for trouble make one a hero, or waiting for it? What tasks constituted a hero? Or maybe it was after death that a man could redeem himself, where others could reflect on his deeds and declare him a hero among men.

No matter what my destiny was, I knew for certain I was not completely happy in Hyrule. I had created a new life, a new identity, a new family. In fact, Malon seemed to hope to erase any idea in my mind that I had ever lived such an adventurous life. She wanted me to claim the ranch with her. And that was not what I wanted.

I recall my reasoning at the time, and I see the selfishness of my behavior. I used Malon, because I couldn't have what I truly lusted for. Yet, she equally used me—this I can see clearly. She clung onto me just as I did for her. She was just as selfish, and perhaps we deserved each other. Can kind of man would I have been to desert my family because of my displeasure?

Yet, up until that night where the goddesses spoke to me, I didn't plan to leave. I promised myself no more desires for the things I could not have. But they teased me—the goddesses taunted me with images of Navi and the princess. They showed her to me, just as I remembered her—her hair glowing as gold, eyes tormenting me with their cerulean sadness. Then they had my best friend tease me, flying around so close within reach. Yet, I failed to snatch her, to keep her before she vanished once more.

What was the darkness, and what was the light? That I was uncertain of. But I was confident in my knowledge that I needed to see Nabooru, a woman who did not even know of me in this world. Goddesses, a part of me was baffled by that—I had met her after I opened the door of time, I believe. Zelda had sent me back further than that, before I could have met her.

Oftentimes I became confused whenever I thought of the circumstances of time, and how Zelda seemed to put Hyrule in a bigger mess by sending me back. How would Nabooru be expecting me, if she knew nothing of who I was?

Zelda had told me about the Gerudo in second command to Ganondorf, who confessed to the Hylian courts concerning his treachery. She must have been ruling over the Gerudo now, and perchance there was something afoot happening in the valley.

Yet, despite the reasoning for my summoning, another problem lurked: I was a man. If the beautiful thieves saw me, I would be captured and imprisoned. They would find my request to see Nabooru ridiculous.

Everything I saw in the dream, I questioned. And no logical reasoning could be concurred from what the goddesses revealed to me. I only understood their commands, yet knew nothing of what was to come from them.

Perhaps I was foolish to even suggest the strange dream was a message from the goddesses. But, no matter how I tried to convince myself it wasn't, I could feel that it was. I had been summoned before, had felt the exotic breeze of it hovering over my body. And I could feel it again, calling me, commanding me to listen.

To some, I would be considered a man cursed by fate. But I wanted this. Anything to escape this life. I cared deeply for my daughters, and even for Malon. I had married her and created a family.

I was foolish, I know I was, but my tongue was dry with thirst for adventure. And at last it was about to be quenched.

~oOo~

I could barely recognize it when I pulled it out, for it was covered in thick dust.

Scrimmaging through the drawers of the desks in the chicken shed, I had almost forgotten where I put all those special objects. I couldn't remember whether I hid them where I used to sleep with Talon and Ingo or had migrated them to when I shared Malon's bed. I was around thirteen when I hid them, when I formally moved in with the family and became a young farmer boy.

I searched in secret, while the men worked and Malon delivered the milk. The girls played with the ponies, and each cabin was absent of any form of Hylian life. Daylight warmed the ranch, and the cuccos were clucking wildly as they often did, continually ramming into me with their pointy, coarse beaks.

This den was the final place I searched, continually wondering to myself why I decided to store such precious belongings in such a messy place. I knew I had put them in some means of storage in one of the sheds, and well enough, they remained clumsily placed and drowning in dust.

The ocarina was the first thing I lifted, the dust crumbling in my hands to reveal the smooth blue surface of the instrument.

Memories flooded my mind as I knelt sloppily on my knees, a hunch to my back as I gazed fiercely. Closing my eyes, I blew the rest of the bothersome particles off of it, using the sleeve of my forearm to rub the ocarina and reveal its luster. It appeared as a diamond before me, my eyes glittering when I slowly reopened my lids and gawked at the familiar object.

The Ocarina of Time, Zelda's gift to me. It had been so useful over the course of my life, and all history of my becoming events lied trapped inside. A shiver passed through my body as I held it, a sweat to my forehead, my heart beating fiercely.

I could feel a surge of power through it. It was mighty, intense. The magic that flooded it leaked on my fingers, forcing me to reminisce of when I has used it to complete such vital journeys.

Carefully, with shaky arms, I brought the mouthpiece of the ocarina near my lips, and there it hovered, my breath audible as my mouth opened to accept it. Just one song, one song—to hear the sound of it again, to refresh my ears.

I feared its power, so much so that I swiftly brought down the instrument, closing my mouth so tightly that I bit down on my lip and felt blood warm my flesh. I remained there, cradling it, staring so boldly, a sight mixed with fear and longing.

Yet, I did not want to be afraid any longer. The sense of adventure in me was much stronger than the confusion I felt as a young man. I had gotten so accustomed to this new life that the summons for adventure rattled me; and as I held the Ocarina of Time, I held myself back even more.

I had been waiting so long for this call, and now I feared it? It just all seemed terrifyingly familiar to me—so much, in fact, that I began to question if it even existed. Yet, at the same time, I knew it did, believed in it so much that I felt a pain begin to develop my chest, as my mind begged for me to embrace the ocarina, though my body refused.

Closing my eyes, a delicate exhale fled, the breath tickling my lips as I lingered there. My fingernails scratched at the surface of the ocarina, yet I felt no paint stain, but only the smoothness of the surface, like hardened silk, if such a thing existed.

More compactly did my eyes shut as I brought the instrument to my mouth again, this time taking it in a kiss, my tongue glossing over the little whole for me to blow into. The fingering was almost automatic, as I instantly recalled how to play every note, sudden blasts of melodies invading my mind.

Sighing into the instrument, the gentle sound of the high pitched ocarina captured the room gracefully, and even against the mouth piece my lips clumsily smiled, while my fingers moved with a grace I had forgotten I ever had in me.

I didn't realize what song I played at first, allowing my fingers to move freely while melodic breath heaved from my mouth, fingers moving effortlessly over the holes of the instrument. I must have been there playing that melody for several minutes, but it felt forever to me, a short forever—locked in bliss, remembrance, a small sense of growing hope. Even when I reached the last note, I started over, connecting it into a continuous, harmonic loop. Power surging through me, I blew harder, resulting in louder, more powerful notes. And my torso rocked to this rhythm, capturing my soul, my mind suddenlt overcome by images I had kept secret from myself. Even the cuccos had become silent, though I did not open my eyes to pay any attention to them, but focused on the melody.

A young girl—her blonde hair hidden with a royal veil—a beautiful young girl, she was. And with hunger in her eyes, she told me to get three special stones—we could get to get to the Triforce. We had to find the Triforce.

I dropped the ocarina.

It fell comfortably on my lap, as if guiding itself there, and blankly I stared at it. My breathing was heavy whilst my eyes scanned the thing, my brows furrowing in astonishment, leaning back on my hands to support my weight.

That tune, oh what a familiar tune. The notes of Zelda's Lullaby continued to mingle in my head, reminding me with her naïve face, as well as the visage of myself.

It might have seemed harmless laying on my lap, but I sensed the magic that lived within. I cringed with I saw a wet drop hit the blue surface of the ocarina, lightly dampening it. As I wrinkled my nose, gently my fingertips caressed my cheek, and there I felt warm tears numbing my face.

I had spent twelve years running from these memories. They did not exist where I was—but this one did. Zelda and I had planned to get to the Triforce. Yet the consequences of that idea never fleshed out, because I warned her.

Taking hold of the ocarina once more, I placed it down beside me, scratching peculiarly at my nose while I took a final moment to glance at the magical instrument. Quickly then, I crawled a few paces back to the old, wooden drawer, scrimmaging through it once more as violent clouds of dust erupted in my face.

Rough coughs burned my throat, my eyes wincing in discomfort, yet my arm continued to search until I pulled out another familiar object.

Goddesses, the tunic! I chuckled as I held the soiled clothing before me, straightening out the wrinkled fabric. It looked so small now, as I didn't realize what a little person I had once been. The grin on my face was a silly one, reaching the width of my cheeks, creasing my skin in dimples. Several cuccos came and began to peck at me, clucking as if they too were interested in the old green attire. As I placed it to the side, I laughed again, shaking my head in amusement, returning to the drawer.

The sword, the shield—it was all there—scattered randomly, hidden underneath various other pieces of junk such as old milk bottles and dresses Malon wore as a child. I found myself swept back to my younger days, almost playing with my weaponry like a child with dolls. Gallantly, I held the sword I had taken with me to Termina, swinging it through the air while I remained seated on my shins, blowing through puckered lips to make a "swoosh" noise, while my right hand gripped the dusty Mirror Shield. I nearly pierced a cucco that lingered curiously by my thigh, sending the bird to cluck feverishly, which led to a hysteria of the others that trampled me in the room.

My folly was very short-lived, as the door had hastily opened.

"Link!"

The feminine voiced snapped at me, as the noise of the door slamming shut followed. Upon seeing Malon, the birds instantly hushed, leaving me in a mess of feathers while they flew off to a various corners of the shed.

She had that same look on her face, just like the previous night. Mightily, her small hands gripped the fabric of her dress on her hips, her fingers twitching sporadically, as if ready to leap towards me and squeeze my neck. Her brow twitched at the arch, involuntarily from the impulse of the nerve there.

Her eyes gleamed a foul shade of blue as she stared at the silly sight of me, shaking her head with disappointment, her long hair bouncing gently.

"I have been searching for you for ten minutes. Father tells me he has not seen you all morning, and here I find you mingling with the cuccos acting foolishly!"

Though she kept a rather calm tone as she spoke, I sensed the spite in her. Yet, I chose to remain on the ground, surrounding by my old belongings, as I dropped the sword and shield down beside me.

"I was just trying to find my weaponry—"

"You have been acting bizarrely the last few weeks, Link. What are you doing with those now? While everybody else, even you children, are out in the daylight working? I came back from the delivery and saw no trace of you."

Now I frowned, my lips pursing painfully. With a grunt, I forced myself to finally stand, grains of dust trickling off my clothing while I stepped closer to her.

"Do I have no right to know where my own belongings are? I've been absent all morning because I could have sworn I left them elsewhere, not thrown about here in this shed."

Malon's eyes narrowed as she watched my hand gesture to the old desk with the open drawer. Carefully, her stare had returned to me, an unsure tug to her lips.

"Well, that is because I put them there."

She didn't have a direct tone when she uttered that statement. She sounded neither apologetic, or proud, or guilty. Neutrality fled from her lips, and with wide eyes I glared at her, my throat suddenly becoming achingly dry.

I chuckled once, though not with amusement. "You put them there?"

Plainly, she nodded. "Yes. After we wed all your things couldn't be left with Father. You should have moved them yourself."

I didn't know what else to say to her, that tormenting sensation of hate welling within me once more, as it had last night.

"So you took my armor and other precious belongs, and scattered them about in the cuccos' cabin?"

Seeing where I was going with this, Malon rolled her eyes, turning to walk away from me and nearing the door, her hand brushing through her hair.

"Why is this such a preposterous things?" I heard her mutter. "You don't have a use for them. I simply stored them away. You haven't even wondered about them till now."

Goddesses, something powerful had gotten over me. It was so fierce that I marched up to Malon before she could take hold of the door knob, and quickly spun her around to face me directly.

I held her shoulders with force, noticing the uncertainty in her eyes, while she feared the depth in mine.

"Why are you like this?"

She scowled at my demand, shaking loose of my hold. Scoffing at me, her arms crossed at her chest, her posture upright.

"Are you really asking me such a question. You are the one who is behaving irrationally. You are husband and father now—"

"Stop it, Malon!"

At my shout, she immediately hushed, her fingertips clamped at her mouth in bewilderment. Even I was shocked at my outcry, as I had never yelled at her so violently before. I saw her eyes begin to tear, but she held them back, and gazed at me with a similar hate looming in glittering eyes.

My breath was heaving, chest expanding and decreasing dramatically. Taking a gulp, I lifted my arm as if to take hold of her again, but stopped myself as I saw her embrace herself protectively.

Taking a deep sigh, I allowed my body to relax as much as it could. "You knew who I was, Malon. Before we wed. Before I lived on the ranch. When we were just friends, and I told you all my stories."

I could see my reflection in her wet eyes as I spoke. "You knew who I was."

Silent, she remained. Yet, slowly she freed herself from the protection of her arms, and began to listen to me, a cringe in her face.

"I confided so much in you. And yet there is still so much you do not know about my life. I cannot tell you, because even I am baffled by it. But I see you trying to mold me into the man you want to be your husband. And now I must tell you, I cannot be that man."

I paused. "I will not be. I don't want to be. I am another man."

I saw Malon only crumble once in my life. She had always been so composed, so cheerful. Even after we wed and had children, when she began to control the life we shared, she kept that likeability about her. But at my words, I saw her spirit break. And though I did not regret what I said to her then, I do regret it now. Desperately, I regret it.

Tears had stained her face abruptly, soaking into her skin. It was a painful river, continually streaming down her face, waiting for a merciful end. She refused to look at me, staring at the corner of quiet cuccos, her arms lying peacefully at her sides, yet fists curled with rage.

I felt sorry for her—at that moment I truly did. But when I think back on it now, guilt sweeps over me. For, no matter how the situation was, she didn't deserve that from me.

When I placed my hand on her shoulder, her body froze. I saw her shoulder raise as if she had been touched by ice. Yet, she did not turn to look at me, but kept stiff while sniffling.

"Malon," I spoke gently, hoping to ease her.

Sharply, she lifted her arm, sweeping it over her face to quickly wipe the wetness off.

Sighing with remorse, I tried again. "Malon, listen. I have been summoned by the goddesses. I need...I need to leave."

She spun around so quickly I stumbled backwards for a second, finding my balance before I fell over. The sharpness in her gaze was riveting, her brows slanted heavily.

"Don't say anything about the goddesses! You want to leave me! You want to betray your family to fulfill some empty void in your life! But you don't realize that all you need is here!"

"It's not here, Malon!" I cried desperately, taking her hands like a beggar, hoping this would make her somehow understand. "I have been hiding from so much in my life, and you too are trying to erase my memories! I can't do that; my past is too important! I need to find what I'm looking for, and I know the goddesses are leading me."

She began to cry again, glaring up at me hesitantly, yet her hands remaining limp in my hold. "Is your past really so important now? Can't you just be mine?"

Tenderly, I frowned. "I need to leave you. My destiny—"

"What about your children?"

My expression did not change at her violent holler, which allowed her to pry herself away from me, tugging at the ends of her hair once again.

"You are just going to leave them so casually?"

"I will come back," I promised.

"I don't believe you."

She turned away from me, an aggravated grunt leaving her. But quickly, I embraced her from behind, my hands slipping around her waist as she struggled against me. Yet she allowed herself to relax, yet continued to sob, as I held her this way.

"I promise to you," I uttered carefully, "I will return. But I need to do this. There is something I need to find…Something I had searched for once, that left me so suddenly. It is the only thing that truly knows me."

Here, she unhappily chuckled, shaking her head at her own irony. "I never knew you, Link. Even though I had convinced myself I had. I never really knew anything about you. Even now, I know nothing."

I felt her tears drip on my hand as she embraced my arms that held her. This was the moment, I believe, where she accepted my departure, and perhaps even agreed with me.

We had grown up to be lovers of the body, but not the spirit. And I should have let her know more about me all those years I stayed with the family. I chose to lose my identity, and only recently had begun the process of rediscovering myself.

But even at the little pieces I would reveal of my past, over the years Malon had become skeptical, and I wonder if she would have actually accepted me if I had ever completely confessed. Though she was a generous girl, I saw the selfishness in her. Even at that moment where she realized she knew nothing of me, she did not attempt to try to learn.

I loved her, though not as a man should his wife. I felt many conflicting emotions, yet I did want to return to her, because she was my family now, who had my beautiful children, and I had no other family I could return to.

We slept as man and wife one last time, by her decree, uniting as one body—and she groaned in a painful pleasure, holding onto me loosely, without certainty. She usually claimed my body in these acts, taking me in her groin vehemently, sexing me with such a severe, monstrous passion. But I still saw that final gleam in her eyes—I swear I saw it. How she looked at me as I moved inside of her. She still wanted to keep me, some part of me. To have as her own.

I told my children I was going to on a journey, and I remember the sorrow on both the girl's faces. The three of us cried together, but again I swore I would return.

There was a proud gleam in Angmar's face, I recall. She kept it concealed, but I swear I saw it. "So you're going to be a Hero again?" she had asked through tears, and though I did not answer directly, she sighed in a small childish satisfaction, her little hand taking mine, and kissing my knuckles nobly. Then, sniffling, she peered up at me, the look in her swollen eyes haunting me, as well as her words that followed.

"I knew you would. The goddesses told me you would."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: The Gathering

There he resided in my dreams, reminding me he was not dead.

But very much alive.

And the chapped flesh of his lips further broke apart, revealing the tender red swells as he grinned, standing in what was the darkness. Yet I could see him, without light.

I was not there, though could feel his presence captivate me, even though I was nowhere to be found in the darkness. And vividly, there were two of him. Both identical, menacing—hair burned, eyes swollen, lips bleeding.

Only one showed me the golden piece glimmering on his hand. Flexing his knuckles, the Triforce of power suddenly erupted into a fierce glow. Here the light finally emerged, yet it did not take over him—instead, he controlled the light, claiming it, capturing it, defeating it.

And the other him, he too lifted his arm, curling his fingers to display the back of his hand. Yet, unlike he identical man next to him, there existed nothing. No power, no control. This was the man from my time, the one who was imprisoned. But never did a look of defeat capture the smug expression of the villain's face.

Slowly, the light traced itself on the coarse, dark skin that had bore no mark. Neither men made sound as this occurred and even I—though my body not present—could do anything to interfere with this occurrence. This man just smiled cleverly while the power traced itself, gleaming with a fierce gold that even overwhelmed the man next to him.

And when the light had calmed, the darkness resumed, both men having the Triforce of Power engraved in their bones.

~oOo~

"Hold still, young man. I must make sure the hemming is just right."

Face squirming and lips pursing, I flinched a little as I felt the old maid prick her sewing needle on my thigh, forcing me to flex my knees and attempt to keep my body without movement. Yet, my fists clenched direly, a tired moan lodged in my throat, as my eyes peeked down at the lady, a raise to my brows.

"Can't you just do this when the tunic isn't on me?"

At my desperate, yet stiffly spoken, plea, the woman laughed, managing to prick me yet again. This time I shuddered, my eyes rolling involuntarily.

"That would be unnecessary, lad. I am almost finished. Just need to fix this stitching right here."

She continued to kneel over my legs, licking her thin lips while she squinted in concentration. As I heaved a sigh, I found myself looking at the old woman, seeing her old eyes struggle to accurately tailor the clothing, her fingers continuing to slip, the needle piercing through the thick fabric of my tights.

Her short, curly white locks bounced a bit when she stood up, the short woman grazing her thumb over her chin as she began to encircle my form, carefully observing her work on me.

My knees wobbling anxiously, a clumsiness to my fingers, I stood glumly on the stool. I was more than ready to finally head out of the family owned shop in this village, but I refused to depart on my journey without the familiar tunic hugging my body.

I had been wearing it in the dream, when I defeated Ganondorf—during my victory in Termina. It had become a symbol of who I was, what I stood for. It may have sounded silly, but the tunic was more than simply attire to me.

At last, the woman stood before me, her plump arms lying peacefully at her sides as she gandered up at me peculiarly. Looking down at her, both my brows lifted in an inquisitive manner, and at my gesture, she smiled.

"How is it, Miss Hildegard?"

"Perfect. I say, for a woman my age, I did do a fine job on such a unique request."

Gently, I smiled at the proud tone of her raspy old voice, seeing the wrinkles that had consumed her cheeks and forehead as her smirk expanded into a large grin. She had finally finished her work, and though I was eager to see what she had accomplished, a nervousness existed in me, to how I would react to such nostalgia.

Waddling to a nearby table filled with needles and fabrics, she quickly took hold of the belt I had brought with, grasping it compactly. My eyes followed the leather article in her hand, observing her stretching the material, then scruffily wrapping the belt against the slimness of my waist, biting her bottom lip in concentration while she perfected the latch.

"There you go! The job is done. Why don't you come on down and take a look at it."

Leisurely, I took one step off of the wooden stool, and there Hildegard took my hand in hers. I could feel the rough patches of her skin scratching the surface on my own. It was an odd sensation, one that made me cringe at bit at the feeling. Yet, I allowed her to lead me into the back room, stepping silently on the boards of the floor, making sure to not step on any of the mingling fabrics and cloths that messily decorated the otherwise bland room with color.

"Here're the mirrors, son. Take a look at what fine work such an old woman can do in Kakariko!"

Even if I was hesitant to look, the abundance of mirrors in the back room forced me to stare at my altered and completed appearance. The room was small and stuffy, causing droplets of sweat to drip on my forehead. Awkwardly, a large, three-fold mirror occupied the small space, as I found myself lodged in front of it immediately after entering.

The familiarity enlightened me.

Simply by staring at my reflection, fierce memories began to drench my mind, of a different time, where I had been a hero, and helped bring peace to a struggling nation. Awestruck, I stood there wide large, blinking eyes, slightly trembling in place, an obvious quaver to my knees.

"Goddesses," I whispered.

Hildegard comfortably stood next to me, her height barely reaching my waist. Nodding, a triumphant smile curved her lips, her arms over her chest with pride.

"What a handsome, gallant sight! What do you think, young man?"

I failed to answer her right away, as I had been too consumed staring at my appearance. She did, in fact, do a marvelous job with my attire. She had chosen a deep, forest green shade for the fabric of the tunic. Though I had been uneasy about the accuracy of the stitching, the threading was perfectly aligned and almost invisible. The shirt I wore underneath was neatly tucked in, yet I took a moment to delicately fix the collar.

Just as I remembered—as a former version of myself.

"This is wonderful," I murmured, smiling sheepishly as I looked down at the little woman. With a chuckle, I knelt down to her, taking hold of the coarse hand that had previously bothered me and shook it with gratefulness.

"Wait a minute, boy. There is just one thing missing."

Resting my palms on my knee, I watched her scurry out of the heated room, her dress too long for her stout body, dragging sloppily over the wooden floor. I could hear her hastily scrummaging in the other room, mumbling silent curses to herself, bumping into various objects and clothing before she came back in with green cloth tucked in her hands.

Upon extending her arms and uncurling her fingers, I smiled at what she offered.

"Just like you asked for, I hope."

My cheeks warming with a tender comfort, my fingers traced over the smooth fabric she held before taking it between my index finger and thumb to lift it midair. There, I let the cloth dangle, staring at it with intrigue.

"How's that for the hat you wanted?"

Glancing at the mirror, I licked my upper lip while I situated the material she gave me on the top of my head. Instantly, I felt my hair become nettled underneath, while my bangs fell in place, parted and tickling my forehead. The fit was snug, yet cozy, nestled comfortably over the diameter of my head. Remaining knelt, I further fumbled with the hat, running my fingers through my hair to unsettle knots, tracing the point of my ears.

Turning my neck to look back at the old woman, I smiled. "Thank you so much, Miss Hildegard. I apologize for all the trouble."

"Oh, no trouble at all!" Merrily, she slapped her hand down on my shoulder, revealing lack of teeth when she grinned. "You received what you paid for. I wish you well on your endeavors."

My attire was the first of my collection. Though I left home, I would not genuinely begin my quest without acquiring the belongings I would need to embark on such an ordeal. I wanted to be prepared, well equipped, just as I had been all those other times I ventured.

Though perhaps the silliest, I found the tunic to be one of the more serious parts of this gathering. I could not leave Hyrule without the comfort of such a familiar clothing. It had been a decade almost since I had last worn anything like that. Succumbing to life on the ranch, I too acquired the uniform of such a life, abandoning my former wear.

I would not leave as a farmer, however. I wasn't that man; I could not be that man.

I took rupees, the horse, and even a few bottles and barley—things I had worked for over the years I stayed on the ranch—yet not everything I had earned. I refused to take more, and even if I dared try, Talon would demur me.

The man had despised me once he learned that I would be leaving. He could not understand my reasoning, why I would abandon such a thoughtful home with the generous people I made my family. I couldn't explain to him; Malon would not let me. Even the girls kept silent whilst we argued—the three of us.

If I left, I was forbidden to return, he said. He never wanted to see such an ungrateful face again. Yet, I had promised my family, swore that I would come back once my journey had been completed. And despite the man's solemn declaration, I told them again that I would keep that promise.

"I knew you would. The goddesses told me you would."

Almost every night since my departure, I could hear Angmar speak, her statement continuing to bewilder me just as it had the first time she said it. I would never know what she exactly meant by her words. I had not asked her, and her mother was not pleased upon hearing it as well.

Yet, she still was my daughter, and perhaps the goddesses had spoken to her, just as they had to me—to warn her, let her know that I would be leaving, and to be prepared. I could still see the sadness in her, however, despite the bravery she had shown.

To her, I left to resume my reign as hero. And though I was not sure if that was the true intent of the goddesses, I wanted to believe what Angmar believed. I wanted to be the man I was once, the bravery I exalted even as a child.

I could not stay at the ranch anymore. I began to despise the place.

I will guess that when people in the Other Time speak of me, in the fruitful legend of my victory, they mold me as this man without fault, with no emotion—simply without speech, feelings. I can see them dehumanize me, their discord about me valiant and honorable.

But what many do not know then and now is that I was a man, complete with likeable traits, as well as faults as any other man would have. How could someone as myself ever had possessed the Triforce of Courage? Wasn't leaving his family a cowardly thing to do? Are you listening about the life of the same man who defeated Ganondorf, saved Termina, and was chosen by a much higher authority?

I promise, this is the same man. Yet, despite his conquers, he was still a simple man—a Hylian who had not been raised by parents, who for much of his life did not know who he really was, and accepted the call to adventure, because it granted him a greater purpose.

Interestingly enough, I had not chosen the life of the Hero initially, yet I accepted my fate. And when I peace had return and I could resume to a more simple life, I found myself craving what I had, because it had given me a stronger purpose, a meaning to an otherwise plain existence.

To have learned the death of my parents, have experienced a love for a woman who didn't exist, and to lose a friend who solely shared my foreign memories—this was what I gained after I became the Hero. And once that reign had ended, I was stuck with those burdens, finding myself unable to live with such reveries in a regular life.

When I left Hyrule after my twelve year return, I at last realized I could not erase my memories, to live in the ignorant bliss that I had before the Deku Tree summoned me. That innocence left me a long time ago, and while I tried to recreate myself with Malon, I found myself praying to have that naivety return to me—to forget everything.

But the memories were too strong to forget, and I knew in my heart that I did not want to relieve myself from them.

Despite my attempts, I could not be the husband Malon hoped to craft. I could not be hers, because I belonged to another, and I believed she longed me for just as I did for her.

Why did she send me back? One of my more selfish desires—and the most conflicting one at that—I always wondered about that question. Did she really do me so well? I wanted to stay with her, to help her rebuild Hyrule—anything I could to remain in a place where there bred hope and a new beginning.

Perhaps she thought she could erase my memories, yet she hadn't. She left me a troubled child who continued to ask the same questions.

Why did she send me back? I would never show, I realized at the time, because I could never see her again. But even though I was not with her, I could not wallow miserably in my desires. Because my best friend was still somewhere in this world.

She smiled in my dreams—the light in the darkness. I continued to have these dreams seldom after I left the ranch. I would see different visions, but still the same two elements magnified themselves: the darkness and the light. Sometimes one would overpower the other, or they would appear as two separate entities. And, at times, they would coexist uncannily, unaffected by the other.

The one that troubled me the most was the dream of Ganondorf, that came to me as a prophecy: I saw the one who had been defeated in the Other Time, as well as the one imprisoned here. Yet, both possessed the Triforce of Power.

Ganondorf never had contact with the Triforce in this time, and the reverie bothered me, wondering if somehow he now obtained it. Yet, the man was arrested without a struggle, and with all the logic I could muster, I knew there was no way he could have it. It was impossible.

So why did it appear so generously on his hands, glazing his knuckles so splendidly? I wondered about this to where my head hurt, yet it only formed into a greater mystery, one where only time could solve.

Here now, my complete testimony emerges. I will no longer speak of my life in Hyrule. For, when I left, that life finished. I will grant my accounts of the short era of my life that took place in a different land unassociated with the kingdom I grew up in. There is where the adventure begins, end, and resides.

I have confessed the legacy I left behind in Hyrule, the family I created, the life I tried to live, and the circumstances which caused me to leave. Not all of my actions were most honorable, and if I could go back now and erase some of my hurtful words and naïve actions, I would do so feverishly.

Yet, I had learned the dangers and heartache of time travel. So, here I will spill the words of the period of my life that no legend of me speaks about; the adventure I consider to be my greatest and most profound exploit.

Again, I ask that I may be considered as a Hylian, and not a god, because not all my further choices were the wisest. But, I promise that my courage can be seen throughout the story I will speak, because if there is any grand legacy despite my lineage I want Hyrule to know of, it will be my courage.

The start of my adventure began in the Gerudo Valley, where almost immediately upon entering I was arrested.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: The Desert

It was difficult to fathom that where such an exotic beautiful race resided simultaneously lived a breed of spiteful women.

I would be only fooling myself to claim not to have known the dangers of coming to Gerudo Valley. For, I very well in fact did fathom the risk I was taking. Westward from Hyrule Field I traveled with Epona, crossing the bridge built over Lake Hylia.

The land was much different from what I remembered—however, I had never been to Gerudo in this existence, but only ventured after the Door of Time had opened. Ganondorf was gone, and his influence on the horizons seemed to disappear as well. There was more sand, much more sand, to the extent where I would hear Epona whimper as she approached it. Yet, her suffering was scarce.

As the sun gleamed a gentle, yet threatening red, slowly it tilted to welcome the night, and during the sunset we came to Gerudo Valley, instantly welcomed by two female guards.

No, not guards—but warriors, thieves. Almost identical in appearance, their eyes large and golden, red hair long and voluptuous, tied back into a high ponytail. They revealed the sleekness of their waists, the curves of their thighs hidden beneath violet, loose-fitting pants. The beauty of their faces were hidden, a veil wrapped around their mouths, spears clutched fiercely in their hands.

Though I had just entered the desert, I saw the desperate bleakness that surrounded it. It felt empty, too empty, and the women were not pleased to see me.

I knew their natural abhorrence for the Hylains, especially the men. I was aware of some type of altercation and struggle, yet when the two thieves cornered me and positioned themselves to attack my horse, I realized how aggressive the Gerudo had become.

"Hylain," one spoke to me solemnly, her voice deep and thick, yet so seductively feminine my ears tingled at her discord.

"What are you doing here?" The other woman tightened her grip on the spear, moving closer to Epona with a threatening hunch to her back, causing the horse to hiss in fear, taking careful steps backwards.

Pulling discreetly at her reins, I attempted to calm Epona, yet even my heart had begun to beat profoundly, in which I became lightheaded and even frightened. There were only two of them, yet the muscles of their bellies twitched with vehemence, their eyes glowering over me, appearing ready to strike at any moment. Gravely, they awaited my response.

I did not want to answer incorrectly, could not risk the life of me or Epona. And I immediately felt my throat lose moistness, my ability to speak gone. At my delay, they grew more heated towards me, as I saw the brows of both women slant with frustration.

"Answer, Hylian!"

While they pointed their spears—declaring a real intent to strike—I painfully cleared my weak throat. "I have come to see Nabooru."

"Nabooru?" replied the thief, looking at the other with baffled eyes. Both their gazes returned to me, and I grew more apprehended.

"What business do you have meeting our Queen?"

"Has the king sent you? Have you come to kill her?"

I didn't know what was happening, what they meant by their words, and I had no time to make any conclusions in my mind. Before I could even answer, we were attacked, one of the women taking a rope from her waist and grappling Epona, while the other pierced my leg with her spear, forcing me off the horse as she, too, arrested me.

~oOo~

While they led me to their prison, I could only ask myself one helpless question: What happened to Gerudo Valley?

The sky was a mixture of red and blue, the sun continuing to fall as night claimed its hours. And yet, even in this delicate darkness, I saw the desert to contain almost nothing. The fortresses I had seen in the Other Time were now various scraps of woods and remains of what had been—destroyed and demolished. I only saw few women—enough to count on my fingers—peeking from their tents, eying me with hate in their eyes, glowing with a detestable gold.

What had once been a beautiful, ethnic land had become a true desert, yet their prison remained standing still—a tall, old looking fortress. Forcefully, the thief pulled me, despite the limp to my walk. She cared not about her prisoner, separating Epona from me before we entered.

I tried to resist, yet my leg had become too weak, as I continued to feel the blood slither down my thigh, warming my skin unpleasantly. The pain stung like fire, but in my dire attempt to flee, I tried to ignore the hurt. Yet, she kept control of me, yanking me like an animal inside the prison and to my throwing me into the dark, black chamber.

It was cold, dirty. And I was alone. It was a room of nothingness, only black surrounded me. There were no bars, nothing of comfort. The thief discarded me into this place, taking from me my weapons and other belongings, leaving my hands tied, for me to bleed alone and without defense.

"Here you will stay, Hylian, before we get permission to rid of you, just as your race has done to us."

The dark skinned beauty had taken me by the shoulders before she left me, while I remained in pain on my knees, contracting my front thigh muscle in hopes to control the bleeding. I was limp in her grasp, while I felt her nails delve into my shoulders, ripping past the fabrics of my attire, to break the barrier of my skin.

When I winced in pain, feeling my flesh mold into her nails, she huffed pleasantly, enjoyed my agony, the pain she inflicted.

"You might have tried to bring us to extinction, but you will never succeed. We will protect our queen, for your king should know she had been his ally, before he betrayed her."

Her fierce clutch on me remained, and wantingly I glared at my sword and shield she carried on her back, wishing I could untie myself and take them from her. My breath had grown heavy, her nails continue to rip through my skin.

"I don't understand what you are talking about."

Growling at me comment, she at last let go of me, and the pain from the sudden withdrawal of her nails was much more intense. I landed on my bum with a grunt, my eyes shut compactly, the tinge of the cool air burning the wounds.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about! We detest you Hylians! And if enough of our women remained, we would destroy you! All of you!"

Slowly, I lifted my eye lids, and there I saw the Gerudo standing before me, her body trembling, her finger pointed at me with dreadful accusation. My chest expanded and contracted dramatically as I stared at her, breathing through my mouth, confusion mixed with fear filling my stomach.

"The Hylians...have…?"

I couldn't finish my thought, my words interrupted by constant breaths. But I saw her shoulders relax at that moment, her arm carefully lowering.

With a snap of her neck, she began to leave me, taking my belongings with her. Her hips swayed while she moved, her steps echoing eerily. And as she neared the exit, I saw her halt, her head peering up gently.

"I had chosen to stay with Nabooru…But what if I did join the fight with Ganondorf?"

Shaking her head at herself, she left me.

I believe this to be the moment when I saw the situation I had gotten myself into. Hyrule had attacked Gerudo Valley, and something had happened before Ganondorf's arrest that I wasn't aware of. But, how could such a thing be so? I had lived in Hyrule for the last twelve years, surely I would have heard of such a thing.

Yet, I felt hopeless then, trapped in this dungeon with fresh blood and a terrified heart. Goddesses, I could feel it bang against my chest so thunderously. Like the beating of a drum, pounding at my body with no mercy.

I did not know how long I was in that dungeon, plagued by the growling of my stomach, the thirst in my throat, the pulsing of my wounds. I remembered falling asleep, being captured by delusions. There I saw a war take place—a quick one—where a rogue charged with an army of women towards a castle, yet unreadily were met by an opposing, larger army of men.

I saw a disappearance of the women. All except one. And she appeared differently to me, in a room crafted by the light, a tear staining her dark cheek.

The darkness and the light were reappearing elements, and as what happened between the Gerudo and Hyrule was casted beneath the creations of the dark, this one woman was clearly the work of the light, and I knew exactly who she was.

~oOo~

"Hylian."

Merely by her words, my eyes opened, finding myself instantly gazing at the Gerudo thief who had imprisoned me. I was sure it was her, by the distinct, pitiful tone in her voice, as well as the way she had obscurely addressed me.

Yet, her current demeanor suggested she was newly intrigued by me, while a single red brow lifted, her palms circling her waist, fingers seeming dance in their intricate movement.

Using the remaining strength of my legs, I forced myself back on my knees. I had been sleeping uncomfortably on my side, for the amount of time unknown to me, but I realized it couldn't have been too long for I could see her fingernails still dirtied by my skin and blood.

As I went to move the hair out of my eyes, it took me a moment to realize that she had undone the ropes on my wrists, and with blinking eyes did I gaze at her, marveled. Crawling backward, I picked up my arms, turning them to gaze at my wrists, gauntlet clad but with no more bondage.

"What is going on?" my hoarse voice wondered, though it was not a direct question to the Gerudo. Curiously, my head peered up at her, our eyes instantaneously locking, trapped in her fierce glare. I saw an odd glow in her pupil, partially saw my reflection in them, noticed my bewildered state, nostrils flaring in wonderment.

Smugly, she paced herself closer to me, and carefully her body slicked down to kneel, her face dangerously near mine; she was so close I could see through her sheer veil, observing the gentle curve of her lips, the definition of her jaw line.

I noticed her eyes scan me, traveling down my form, a bit of arrogance to her. "We used to mingle with men such as you," she huffed, and through her covering I saw the smallest of a smile. "More than a decade has passed since we've done so. But we do not welcome Hylians anymore. Not that we have ever approved of their culture. But they are a dead race to us, for they have killed our own."

Cringing, I listened intently to her crafted words, yet all the muscles of my body stiffened when she reached her hand out to me, her fingertips caressing my cheek. It felt like a knife trickling over my skin, taunting me with intentions of pain to come.

I prepared myself for something to happen, while also wondering why she had untied me. I could have fought back—could have taken her right there—but, I began to feel a sympathy for her, a strange one that stunned me from touching her.

"Stand up, Hylian."

I, however, did not automatically head to her command, and she looked down at me angrily when she stood and saw that I did not follow her.

"Stand up."

I furrowed my brows at her, a scowl to my features, extending my palm on the cold ground to carefully lift my body up to a stand. I wobbled in this position, my thigh burning to remind me of the wound she left me, my fingers grazing over it lightly to feel that it had begun to scab.

As I bite my bottom lip, the thief took my hand, and for that moment we could have appeared as lovers.

"Our Queen has requested to see you. Unharmed."

The more they referred to Nabooru as their queen, and spoke of the disappearance of their race, I more I wondered what exactly happened to Gerudo Valley. This was not the outcome of the land in the Other Time. I had heard nothing of this wasteland, had imagined the outcome to remain just as it was when I ventured there.

But this was not the Gerudo Valley of the Other Time. No; here, it had changed. And it did for the worst. I did not know exactly was savagery had occurred, but now that Nabooru summoned me, I would soon find out.

She held my hand the entire time she led me out of the prison, leading me as a mother would do her child. It was an uncanny experience; I pondered what the sudden loss of hostility meant—if, somehow, Nabooru knew who I was, that she wanted me unharmed, or if she too was enraged, and wanted to complete the deed to kill me herself. I noticed the sun had peaked, creating a new morning in the valley, the darkness passing, where I observed that I had been held prisoner overnight

I asked no questions though, as the thief brought me to another fortress, this one appearing old and partly destroyed, the stones of the building crumbling even as we stepped inside. It was smaller than the prison, and surely not anywhere a queen would be expected to reside. But the thief made no remarks, providing no explanations. I traveled with her in silence, yet in awe, of how a place I believed to still be prosperous had been destroyed.

The hallways she led me through were gently lit with candles on the walls, providing a red tint to the atmosphere. I heard no noise but the fire rumbling, as well as the echo of our footsteps. She was always one step ahead of me, forcing me to see the sway of her long hair, the exaggerated movement of her hips. Even in hatred, it existed naturally in her breed to seduce me. And if I had forgotten of the marks she tore at my body, I might very well have been.

We traveled past several corners, up flights of stairs—we moved slowly, for she exaggerated every movement—trying to build a fierce anxiousness in me, in which she succeeded. Steadily, I followed her, to where we had approached an entrance with sheets of ripped, sheer cloth that matched the material of the thief's veil, covering the opening as would a door. There, she halted quickly, ending our travel.

She had let go of my hand rather aggressively, and there I took a step back from her, my newly freed palm reaching to the back of my neck, tilting my head in discomfort as I rubbed my skin. For a long moment, the Gerudo stood before the entrance, glaring at the tattered silk with no movement, as if forgetting I, a prisoner, was behind her.

Suddenly, then, and hastily, her body turned dramatically, back arched and curved with an erotic beauty as her eyes glowered over me. I straightened my posture at her gesture, a chill crawling up my spine when I realized her implication.

Upon my physical response, the Gerudo turned back to the entrance, and there she stepped through the sheets, where I followed her, feeling the fabric trace my form, smoothing over my skin and allowing me a sense of pleasure for a short moment.

"Nabooru. I have brought you the Hylian."

My capturer then took a step to her left to reveal me to her queen. And our eyes locked immediately.

She was just as I remembered her to be—appeared as the same Nabooru, the sage I had met in the Other Time. With skin the color of sand, a face so exotically crafted, yet she wore violet now, the same color as her thieves.

From the style of her hair, to the glitter in her eyes, everything that had made her distinct from the other Gerudo women—Even how she held herself set her apart as queen, though she wore no royal garments. In her presence alone, I could see the authority in her, in a land drenched in destruction.

Her eyes shifted, with no movement of her body, to her thief. "Leave us."

Steadily, she bowed before exiting. And there she left me with the Queen of the Gerudo, the woman who now ruled Gerudo Valley, a fact which was only brand new to me.

Nabooru observed me with inquisitive eyes, her dark, slick lips pressed in a straight line. I saw no emotion present in her face, no slouch or stiffness to her posture. She only stood without expression, neutrally gazing at me in the silence of this dismal, colorless room.

I could feel the pain of my wounds begin to sting again, a sharpness to my thigh, and lighter aches at my shoulders. Persistent to finally confront Nabooru and learn the true intent of the goddesses, I remained still, refusing to give into the weakness I experienced.

But, before I could speak, her voice rumbled through the room.

"Are you the Hero of Time?" she questioned, a hand resting on her hip, while the other lingered near her face, fingers stroking her chin with tender gracefulness.

Eyes widening, I gawked at her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: The Queen

So stunned had I been by her statement, that I failed to answer her. Instead, I kept my eyes opened, feeling them dry and shrivel in their sockets, staring at her with such perplexity that I noticed a similar curiosity well within her from my reaction.

I wanted to speak, but I had lost that sensation.

At my silence, her face squirmed. Suddenly, she stormed up to me, a grimace to her glare, her eyes narrowing at me as the woman of my equal height approached me bitterly.

"Are you?"

Her voice was low, melodic, and even as she further questioned me, her eyes constantly moving while she absorbed my form—as if to compare me to an imagine in her mind—she kept that harmonic pitch. But deeper her tone dropped, reaching her arms out as if to grapple my elbows, yet stopping herself only inches from my body, her hands trembling.

Her plea was desperate, eyes watering with a fierce yearning for knowledge. I saw her just as confused as I, yet I wanted to believe she knew more, enough to enlighten me.

Our gazes connected, and there I straightened my posture, chest rising as I inhaled deeply.

"Who spoke such things to you?"

She seemed surprised by the tenor tone of my voice, the boyishness yet simultaneous maturity not meeting up to her expectations. Both her smoothly sewn brows rose, creating gentle creases in her forehead, revealing her my elder by more than a decade, but not diminishing the erotica of her femininity.

At last, she shook her head slowly, disappointment filling her bones. I saw her relax, while she turned her back to me, taking careful steps away.

"I have been cursed with dreams lately. And in them, I have seen things I do not believe in, things my people hate. The Hylians and their goddesses are among them."

My fingers curling in apprehension, my lips pressed together painfully as her eyes burned a dire crimson when she suddenly turned to stare at me. Her hair was pulled back so tightly that no strands barricaded her face, and there I could see every feature of her, from the dimple of her cheek, to the glorious length of her tanned neck.

"They begin with the Goddess of the Sand appearing to me, and with me she mourns our dying race."

Her expression softening, Nabooru mused over to a table to the corner of the darkness, her movement absent of any seduction, her wide hips remaining still. The table was old, dusty, and wobbly as she ran her fingers over the surface, skimming through the pages of the large, open book. It was too distant for me to recognize the text, but I knew it was not written in Hylain.

"I am with her. Just me, without my women. We are in nothing but darkness. Blacker than this room, than the flesh of our bodies. Absent of all."

Without realizing it, I had begun to walk over to her, my footsteps light and almost inaudible. Soon, I was breathing over her naked shoulder, noticing her stiffen upon feeling my breath touch her. Text consumed the crippled pages of the large book, the symbols foreign to my eyes.

"Yet—as sand—she dissolves before me, leaving me before a golden light evolves, enveloping the darkness, the luminosity so strong it blinds my sight. But only for a moment, when I am in nothing but light, and then I see three women of fire, water, and earth. One is dripping beautifully with dark blue water; another has flaming hair, and the last is dressed in a skirt of leaves and soft dirt. The light is coming from them, and then they kneel. They kneel and reveal a Hylian man, cloaked in green…"

She stopped herself, her voice ceasing its monotonous, mesmerized tone. All the hairs of my body raised at her story telling, and I could almost feel something small and slick trickling down the rigid bone of my spine, tickling every bump and curve.

It was here when she turned herself, our faces level close. I saw a fear overtake her, her eyes enlarging, a tremble to her bottom lip. At the same time, I observed an interesting charm hanging delicately as decoration to her violet top, the shape of a medallion, though unlike the one she had given to me in aide for my quest in the Other Time. I was taken in by it only for a moment, until her lips began to move again, finishing her thought.

"He is cloaked in green…" she began again, her voice unsteady, "wielding a blade that had belonged to our past king, Ganondorf Dragmire."

I lost my breath—simply could not breathe in any speckle of air. While my shoulders hunched, I felt a terrible ache develop in my belly, churning my muscles at the mere mention of the name of such a vile man. It became so intense, my hand snapped to my abdomen.

"The women confess who they are," she continued hastily, upon my reaction. "They say they are Hylian goddesses, keepers of the Triforce. The man behind them is the Hero of Time, a Hylian they have chosen, and one who will bear the King of the Gerudo's blade."

Looking down, she laughed, lacking happiness. "I could not fathom such an idea. Because Ganondorf had given that blade to me. It was crafted in the traditional Hylian style, unlike the Gerudo Spear. Upon appointing me second in command before his arrest, he presented me with his favorite blade, almost as an offering. Because, at a more delicate time in his life, he had loved me."

She stopped herself here, peering up at me curiously. "What is your name?"

"Link," I cleared my throat, shuffling a little. "Just Link."

"Why have you come?"

"My dreams have guided me here." Pausing, I reached to grab my hat and pulled it off my head, scratching at my hair which, too, was tied back. "You are in them, and the sword you give to me."

Her expression was blank, as if baffled. "The three women tell you this."

"Yes."

"You are a rather quiet young man. And if my women had not mentioned the color of your clothing, I would have had you killed."

Her index finger twirled the length of her fiery hair, her gesture towards me becoming rather threatening. "Thus, I suggest you tell me more than you are currently. Who are you, and why are you demanding such a special token from me?"

Teasingly, she reached her thumb to smooth over the inside of my elbow, in which I flinched a bit.

"I am the Hero of Time," I clarified. "Or at least, I was. I am the Hylian in your dreams."

"Continue."

"I have been summoned by the goddesses to complete a quest I do not completely comprehend, but I know it starts here, with you. They have brought me to you."

She brought her thumb to her lip, tracing the nude skin, as she began to circle me, slowly, observingly. "Are you certain that the King has not sent you, Link? To see me specifically, to rid of the Queen of the Gerudo—"

"He has not."

She stopped behind me, in which I swiftly turned around to face her as well, watched as she crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head and slanting her brows in a mixture of suspicion and frustration.

"I do not associate with the King of Hyrule," I added.

Leaning her torso forward, her hands lowered to her hips. "I see. May I ask how you are the Hero of Time? You seem rather young, inexperienced."

"My experience is adequate. I have touched the Master Sword." I pulled at my hat, clutching the fabric in both hands. "You see, my past is a complicated one. I am much older than I appear, or even am." The statement came out much more strange than I had anticipated, yet it was a strange subject in itself.

A gentle smile lifted her lips. "You seem like an easily intimidated young man."

"Not by you."

"By my women?"

"No."

"Then by what?"

She captured my eyes, forcing me to look at her. And with a deep sigh, my grip on the hat tightened, to where I almost ripped the newly sewn thing.

"The destruction of your land, the despair of your people."

I saw a part of her die—just shrivel before me—a whimper vibrating in her throat, her eyes glossed with anguish. As her hands curled into tight, quivering fists, I saw another quick transformation in her—the contraction of her abdomen, the lift in her posture, the firm press of her lips. A controlled, yet strong rage captured her, and aggressively did she glare at me, her finger lifting and extending to me, pointing at me feverishly.

"Your king did this to us. Your people did this!"

Though her speech had begun collected, she spat the latter half of her remark, growling at me, crying out towards the extent of my race and everything it stood for.

"But when, how—"

"You know, Hylian. You know!"

During all this, my hat had dropped soundlessly, and with the new freedom of my hands I took hold of hers, forcing her to listen to me, to understand my ignorance. "I don't, Nabooru! I don't know! This is not the land I once knew! Not the way it was supposed to turn out!"

Prying her hands away from me, Nabooru shook her head abruptly, shutting her eyes, snarling in denial. "Do not feed me such hypocrisy! You were not so young when it happened! You—"

"When what happened?"

"When Ganondorf led his army to the castle!"

Here was silence.

Helplessly, I gazed at her, watching her quaver in agony, clutching at her chest, holding herself in dire memories. But no tears fled her eyes. Though she appeared that she would leak at any moment, her face kept dry, and she made certain it would remain that way.

Slowly, she raised her face to meet mine, and I felt my stomach hurt again at her painful expression. I believe she saw the true bewilderment and sadness in my visage, for that moment she straightened herself, taking several concentrated breaths, her fingers rubbing tiredly on her forehead.

"You really are unaware, aren't you young man? Such naivety is not good for a hero."

I wanted to speak in defense for myself, but I could not find appropriate words. For, there was truth in her statement, too be so unknowing of such a tremendous event.

"When did this occur?" was all I could muster.

"Twelve years ago, perhaps more. Before the leaves of Hyrule Field's trees fell."

Something bothered me about this. "I believe…I was not in Hyrule at that time."

"How long were you gone?"

I paused, eyes looking up as I attempted to accurately estimate my time in Termina. "At least a month."

Nabooru scoffed a sarcastic chuckle, her face in a scowl while she maneuvered past me, returning to the bleak table. Pressing her hands down on the surface, a cloud of dust burst over her, as she pressed her weight on the old furniture. "Plenty of time," she mused, diving her head. "All it took was three days."

The more she spoke, the less she revealed, and more anxious I grew to learn her history. Quietly, I peered behind her, lifting my palm to rest on her shoulder for reassurance, yet it hovered over her skin, reluctant to make its mark.

At last, with a sigh, I allowed it to fall on her, and again she flinched, her skin hot and boiling with anger.

"Nabooru," I began, pausing. "My queen."

Her hands slid off of the table, clumps of dusts molding into the creases of her palms. Yet, the particles disappeared, disintegrating in the air as her fists clenched. Tenderly, she turned her body, and there our gazes met once more. Her nostrils flared.

"Believe me when I say I am shamefully unaware of what has happened to your land. But ever since I have come, I've been desperate to know. Please, please acknowledge my need to learn."

With a strange sense of sympathy in her eyes, Nabooru frowned. "Very well," she mumbled, pushing her way past me, to stand in the center of the room, alone to begin her monologue, standing solely in the nothingness of the area.

Nothingness in her chamber, as the nothingness in her land.

She refused to let me see her, the back of her body the only part of her visible. She stood like a statue, as I could not see the movement of her lips while she spoke. Completely still, she stood. Absolutely still.

"Every one hundred years a man is born unto this race. This man will become king of Gerudo Valley. In this generation, that man was Ganondorf. He was a king unlike any other for our race. He cared for the women, felt for our hunger—he planned with our courts to negotiate with the King of Hyrule, to help us expand our land into Hyrule Field, to bring us out of the desert."

Her triceps flinched as she contracted them, carefully turning her neck to peak, glancing at me. "Are you familiar with Ganondorf?"

If only she knew the extent of how much I was. The mention of his name alone created goose pimples all over my skin. "Yes," I merely answered bleakly, trying to gulp away the dry, bitter lump in my throat.

Sighing, Nabooru returned to her sculpture like stance, molding her palm to sleep on her hip, shifting her weight onto her left leg. The sight of her face left me again.

"You continue to surprise me, Mr. Hylian. You know of Ganondorf yet are oblivious of our history."

I knew where she was going with this, and I took a step towards her, reaching out my hand, hoping to reason with her, my face cringing in desperate curiosity.

"Please, your majesty, I just want to know—"

"Despite what many say, Ganondorf was once a good man."

My body froze at her speech, unable to move, trapped amidst motion. Even my breath had faltered, marveled by her statement, seeing her posture relax, while she began to lose herself in her own memories.

"He wanted great things for our tribe. The reputation of the Gerudo had not always been a kind one. Hylians found us to be pagans, loose women with lack of morals. Ganondorf did not wanted this no longer for his women. To him, we were warriors, fighters. But we were also thieves. Even I. I was once a thief.

"I would be lying if I were to say Ganondorf was not the one to help change my life. I had joined the army of women who swore allegiance to the king. He found favor in me, and slowly he appointed me to higher positions. Upon declaring me second in command, I was presented with his former sword. I was not unknowing—I saw his fondness growing for me, a small tenderness in his heart. And it burned for me and only me. But, you see, the more Ganondorf acquainted with the Hylians, the more he studied the mythology of their gods, and there he learned about the legend of the Triforce."

Like the turning of a page, her body peeled around to face me. The color of her eyes nearly vanished, and in their sockets I could see shimmering pearls, gleaming with a sudden sadness. Her body was a portrait, so perfectly still, in a position that flaunted every exotic attribute of her. But those eyes—so much emotion emitted from them—her eyes, and those eyes alone. I felt all her pain, understood her agony.

"Soon, his intentions turned dire. I know, because I was there with him—in his bed chambers, while he spilled miserable little secrets to me. Constantly he would speak of this Golden Power, that if he obtained it, he could conquer Hyrule, become a sorcerer of all lands. The change I saw in him frightened me. He became frenzied with the idea of this ultimate, divine strength he could hold. He claimed to know where it was, began to curse lands in search of special treasures that would lead him to the power. And his plot involved his relationship with the king of Hyrule. He went from legal negotiations to plagiarizing absolute loyalty to the royal family. All this to gain their trust, only to betray them. Everything he did for the Triforce."

Her voice had begun to crack while she spoke, torso shortening as she clutched at her chest, a moan of despair rumbling in her throat. She continued to hold back tears, however. She would never let me, a Hylian, see her cry.

"I began to dislike him—hate him. I did; I hated him. You see, I might have been a thief, but he began to kill, and I would never do that! He killed for power, and would not get caught. Less concerned he became about our women, and more obsessed he was over the legend that consumed his every thought. I could not have it, I needed to intervene."

I saw the light in her eyes when she opened them, like the light in my dreams. "I went to the royal family...I went and confessed of Ganondorf's treason. I told the them to no longer trust the Gerudo man, for his interests were unholy. There, I allied with the king. I did not abandon my land; hastily, I warned our women, and only some listened to me. The others were loyal to Ganondorf, too loyal. They could not believe their own ruler would betray them for such a loathing lust."

"He kept saying he searched for the Ocarina the princess had. And when I told the king, he summoned his daughter, and she confessed with much dismay she no longer had it. She never explained where it went, but swore it was not in Ganondorf's possessions.

"I told this to Ganondorf—that his wretched idea was tarnished, for there was no Ocarina. He would never get to the Triforce. He never knew of my treachery towards him. But my threats concerning the sacred instrument angered him. He had lifted his palm to my face, and held it there before hitting my cheek with such a force I could never forget. I felt my skin melt underneath his hand. And the way he looked at me afterward—glaring into my eyes with the same hate I felt for him. But his hate was much different, bred from a vile thirst for power.

"It was a dark night filled with thick rain. I remember it, can still taste the flavor of the rain, how bitter it was, like the taste of blood. The smell was damp, revolting. I recall watching the stampede of horses leave, the last I would see of my women, led by Ganondorf.

"He led the warrior's to the castle, and there they attacked. I was not there to see such a thing, but I heard from others—how he tried to overthrow the royal court, but somehow they were awaiting him, with soldiers covered in armor, some sitting mightily on their horses, while other knelt or stood with swords in hand, metal protecting their bodies and faces.

"The Hylians overpowered the Gerudo. There were much more of them, all men, all domineering. They killed the women, and captured Ganondorf. And as much of a terrible thing as that event was, I had believed it to be the end. No more turmoil, no more death. With Ganondorf's defeat, all the misery would cease."

I could envision every detail of her story in my mind, and with every revelation I became nauseated and even ashamed. I knew very little about Ganondorf the man—only saw the one who was the result of a sinister obsession, his soul claimed by evil desires. Here Nabooru stood, confessing all she knew of her king, as well as her conflicting emotions of love and hate for him. Even as she spoke, I felt that same contradiction in her voice—how she still very much hated him, yet at the same time, a tender love existed.

She became tired of standing, or perhaps exhausted from her vivid storytelling. Nonetheless, the Gerudo delicately bent her knees so that she could still on the ground, her feet pressed together, hands grappling ankles while her eyes remained downward.

"It was the next night," she said carefully, her bottom lip shaking, "when the Hylians invaded Gerudo Valley."

I gently paced over to Nabooru, a look of discomfort capturing my visage as I knelt down to her level, as her voice had suddenly become distressingly somber and hushed.

"The approaching army had appeared as a messy painting. To me, they were specks on horses, off in the distance. But they neared and neared, stampeding so vigorously to the valley that many fell off the bridge and drowned. But those who survived forced themselves into our land. And there they declared revenge on behalf of their king."

This was the only moment where I saw her eyes water, her breath quickening, in which her neck gently extended for our gazes to meet, and there I saw her quiet, respectful mourning.

"They found as many women they could," she whispered, eyes continuing to become more wet and blurred. "And they slaughtered them, like savages. Torturing them, with rape, with dismemberment. I saw a man take a Gerudo and with his sword he killed her by stabbing her in her most private region. Bodies of my people and men butchered by them began to pile and become buried in the sands. They set fire to our fortresses, even destroyed our most sacred structure—the Spirit Temple in our deserts. Burned, wrecked by explosives of bombs—I gathered with many, and we fought back. I survived. Most did not.

"This was a one night massacre of our women. And half of them were already gone from the previous day during Ganondorf's raid."

I couldn't believe such nonsense! Why would the king of Hyrule send his army to attack the Gerudo? Why did I not know about it? This was a much different story than the simple one Princess Zelda had informed me of. Nowhere Nabooru had mentioned black magic. This tale was worse; much worse. And I was reluctant to believe my king would inflict such torture.

"Why would the king do this to Gerudo Valley?" I countered her, taking her hands and holding them forcefully. "I do not understand—I thought you allied with him—"

"If you really believe that a nation could only be good or evil, then you are much younger than I thought. Though his actions were heartless, he reacted as a king would do: he decreed my race the enemy, ordering our slaughter."

"But the ones who stayed behind had nothing to do with—"

"Do you think I do not know the lack of necessity for this? I have grieved long, Hylian. For many years I blamed myself for this tragedy. That if I did not betray my own king, my women would still be here."

I narrowed my eyes. "It was not your fault. Ganondorf was a selfish man. Your intentions were for both Gerudo Valley and Hyrule."

"They may have been. But only the latter was justified."

I shook my head however, continuing to vehemently deny the guilt of my land. "I still cannot fathom why the king would do such a thing to an entire breed." I would have said more, but I was calmed when her fingers intertwined with mine, and a tender smile found her lips.

"This quickly became the shame of Hyrule. And messengers were sent days later by the king, asking me to heed to negotiations. We killed each and every one messenger they brought to us. And soon, they came with gold; not ruppees, but cure gold, to bribe us to never speak nor mention of the destruction that occurred. We never took their bribes, and never did I speak to the king again. And quickly—very quickly—the kingdom became quiet of the matter, for it was a disgrace, a very big disgrace. No more Hylians came to us. Sex among the men, as was fruitful in the past, disappeared. And as more women died, none were born. We wanted nothing more to do with Hylians."

The shame of Hyrule. Even as she claimed deep feelings for me, Zelda would not dare so utter anything shameful about her kingdom. No one ever spoke of the ordeal during my years in Hyrule. The Kokiri were too childish to worry of an outside event, and the ranch was not bothered by it; at least, by the time I came to stay with them.

I wanted to cry, to scream, to hate myself for living in such ignorance all this time. While trying to recreate myself, I became an unknowing boy, working steadily as a farmer, learning nothing but tending to livestock.

All this had occurred—and so suddenly—while I was in Termina.

"How did you become queen?"

Eyes large, she grimaced. "Pardon me?"

"How did you become queen of the Gerudo."

Repositioning herself on the floor, Nabooru rested against her right thigh, breathing out through her mouth deeply, her breasts rising gently. "The women who remained took a vote to have me as ruler. I had been second in command before, and now that the king was gone, and most of our women, they chose me to represent them."

"Why do you think the goddesses brought me to you, Nabooru?" At my next inquiry, her eyes squinted inquisitively.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think, perhaps, they want me to help restore your race?"

She laughed; she honestly laughed. Not from humor, but to mock me. Her palm lay flat on her sternum, hair bouncing as she shook her head at me.

"Do you really think there is anything you can do for us now, Hero? It is too late."

"Then why was I led here?"

"Are you sure it is for my sake, or perhaps they've brought you here for yourself?"

"That would be a rather selfish quest."

"Selfishness is what brought you to me, wasn't it? Selfishness allowed you to force such dreadful information from me, to obtain a sword that is rightfully mine. The goddesses themselves are selfish, sealing a supposed unimaginable power and making it a puzzle to find it—where once promising men go mad with desire for it, more than any lust they ever had for a woman."

At her conclusion, the woman lifted herself, using her hands to help her up; and I, too, quickly rose from my knees, following her as she maneuvered over to the mysterious table again. I still saw her hand prints from when she previously leaned—her form traced in the dust, the book remaining open.

"What do you want from me, then?" I further pestered her, wanting to get some answers.

She failed to turn around to answer me, instead sliding her index finger over the dust on the wooden platform, tracing nothing of particular value.

"I want absolutely nothing, Link. Perhaps the real question is, what do you want from me?"

"Why are there Gerudo women in Termina?"

Here, she swiftly spun her body to face me.

"How—how—Termina?" As she stuttered, I ran my fingers through my fringe.

"I was there when the battle and massacre took place. I saw several of your kind. Why are they there? Why aren't the rest of you with them? Why do you allow this bridge that connects you and the kingdom to remain for all these years?"

Scoffing smugly at my flood of questions, Nabooru crossed her arms over her chest, her ample breasts pushing together and lifting my her actions.

"Termina is the very reason we keep the bridge alive," she answered.

"I do not understand."

"For years a sect of Gerudo have lived in the foreign land. I'm surprised a Hylian such as yourself knows of its existence. It resembles Hyrule in many ways, and compliments the kingdom."

I scratched the back of my neck. "So the bridge is for..."

"To allow our women to leave and enter the Lost Woods to find the land."

More baffled I grew from her explanations. "But, why don't you all go? It could be a new beginning." As my arms extended to emphasize my remark, I saw Nabooru roll her eyes at me, a mother to her foolish child.

"You speak of this matter as if it is so very easy for women of fierce pride to leave their divinely given land."

"At least you will thrive," I heaved.

"Only few women have left to pursue life in Termina. The rest wish to remain here."

"But you will all—"

"I know what is to come of us. Goddesses, I know." I pressed the issue no further after she snapped at me, the hiss in her voice sending a signal not to say anything more that would hinder the fierce pride of her people.

Then, another inquiry bothered me. "How do they do it?"

She rubbed her nose. "Do what?"

"Travel in the Lost Woods without getting...lost?"

She scoffed at me again, though I found this to be a serious question. "I am quite serious. One must have a fairy to avoid desolation."

"Not if you are a Gerudo."

As she began to walk away from me to no particular destination, I followed her like a loyal pet. I believed her to be doing this purposefully, beginning to enjoy the torment she put me through.

"Is it by race, then? Because you are Gerudo, you do not get lost."

"Oh, of course not, Hylian. We are not deities."

"Then, how is it done?"

Almost too suddenly, the lady halted. I stammered into her when she stopped moving, and abruptly did her body turn so she could stare straight at me, an intrigued lift to her brows. She kept this interested expression, while her thumb had begun to stroke her dark chin.

"What worries you about this matter so much?"

I blushed, taking one step backwards. "As a child, I had taken some foolish measures.

"Do you plan on venturing out there again?"

"If my journey leads me there."

"Ah, you keep rambling about this journey, but you seem to have forgotten that you are still my prisoner."

Our stare was so direct, dangerously engaged. As hard as I tried, I could not read her expression. She had resumed to a neutrality, one that upset me. No more emotion bled from her, it was all taunts now, her teases and threats.

"Please, Nabooru," I begged of her, pressing my palms together in prayer, almost alleging myself to her. "Listen to me. I have been hiding from my destiny for too long. I was once a hero. But I ran away from that life, and with that I abandoned my search for the only friend I had. And the goddesses have shown her to me, in my dreams, as well as Ganondorf—"

She cut me short, flexing her hand to hush me. "You see him?"

"Yes," I continued. "Constantly."

"Do you see images of him...returning?"

I was troubled by her question, by the glimpse of hope in her voice. But guilt leaked from her eyes, dripping over her existence. Before I could response, I needed to swallow again, for my voice had gone dry once more, hindering my ability to speak.

"I...I have not seen those images. But he is not dead, Nabooru—he is alive."

It seemed that she noticed the fear that had caused my body to stiffen, and there I saw the small lived hope escape from her, leaving as if it never existed. Clearing her throat, Nabooru's eyes dropped down.

"You say...you're searching for a friend."

"Yes."

Her arms resting at her sides peacefully, she looked away from me. "Who is this friend you have lost?"

"A companion from my youth," I began, and there hesitated to finish, afraid of sounding childish to her. "A...fairy."

A single brow lifted. "Fairy?"

I nodded.

She did not snicker, nor mock me, yet a slightly amused smile befell her lips. "How very charming," she mused, returning her gaze to look at me. "Why did this fairy escort leave you?"

Many years did I spend searching for answers to that very question, and after all that mind prodding, I stood before the queen speechless, lips parted wanting to spit miraculous words, but my diction failing me.

"You don't know," she figured out bleakly, and with agreement, I shook my head. Silence succumbed us, for a very long moment, the nothingness filling the surrounding air. It traveled around me, creeping underneath my tunic, over the rip of my tights were the wound by the thief became encrusted in dried blood. The nothingness would try to tempt me to return to it, after living in ignorant harmony for twelve years with it.

"Well," began Nabooru, moving with the sudden grace of a swan. Her body swayed in such a way I was unfamiliar with—Malon had never done it, moved her hips so magically. Her thighs were not as meaty as Nabooru's, the size of her waist not desperately dramatic. Malon, to me, had represented womanhood, and I took her as a woman. But I forgot about the ethnic shapeliness of the Gerudo women.

She peaked at the exit where the layers of sheets fell, trickling her fingers along the fabrics, allowing them to mingle in unexpected grace.

"What if I were to tell you," she started again, her voice slow, hypnotizing, "that I knew of a land where many fairies roamed."

She knew I would look bedazzled, and she appeared confident when she turned to gaze at me. I was, indeed, large eyed, fists clenching in anxiousness. My face squinted in a manner that pleaded for more knowledge.

"Tell me," my coarse throat mutter, quickly going up to her once more. "Where is this place? How do you know of it? How can I get there?"

"One question at a time, young man." I found her eyes searching mine, staring deeply into me, our pupils molding into one black form.

I took her hands gently, my thumbs caressing her dark knuckles, smoothing over every curve. Her hands were warm, soft. I hoped to convince her to confess everything to me, not enjoying having my interests stirred and unanswered.

Tenderly, she gawked at our hands, breaths fleeing through her parted lips. And as I brought those delicate knuckles to my mouth, the queen shuddered at the warm, wet flesh that tasted her. Our eyes were locked, and here I trapped her.

"Please," I begged once more, my voice soft, seductive as hers had been, "tell me."

She never allowed her stare to wander. "Alright." Pressing her fingertips in my mouth—perhaps to silence me, or aid in the mockery seduction—she began.

"There exists another kingdom further past the Lost Woods. It is hard to find, but not impossible. Further than Termina, much further."

Taking hold of her wrist, I spat out her fingers. "What land is this?"

Furrowing her brows, she freed herself from my grasp. "It is called Pulkinoa."

"Pulkinoa?" I gave her an odd glance.

"Yes, lad. Pulkinoa. It is a kingdom that harbors a breed of women similar to the Gerudo. They are different however, with hair much darker, eyes gleaming silver. They practice a dance of the belly and hips, something your kind would consider very shameful. But they are also women more conniving that the Gerudo. They are Pulkinoans, ruled over by a single king. Women, scarce men, and an exotic breed of deku inhabit the kingdom."

All of this information was enlightening, but I was more curious about another aspect she'd mentioned. "And the fairies?"

"Well, legends also speak that many fairies do come to Pulkinoa, led by the light of the Great Fairy there."

The light.

"Do you think my fairy could be there?" She saw me grow more impatient, and that I was. I took her hands again in desperation, holding them to my chest, my eyes bleeding with a new sense of hope I hadn't experienced in years.

There, she tilted her head at me, eyes narrowing into small slits of gold. Her wrists went limp in my entrapment, her shoulders relaxing, and at last a sigh brushing past her lips.

"I cannot promise such a thing," she admitted to me in all honesty, her tone light and carefully spoken. "I see how much you want the answer to this riddle you have been fighting, but I can only speak of legends, and stories told by other women who have seen Pulkinoa. I have told you all that I know."

"And you have helped me wonderfully."

Her brown lips smiled just then, eyes peering at me filled with a new sense of desire I had yet to see before then. "I will let you go, young Hylian." As she spoke, her fingers snaked over my chest, and even through the tunic, I shivered from her sneaky touch.

"I will tell you how to get to Pulkinoa, give you what you need to prevent losing yourself in the woods."

Her fingers had found my neck, tracing my jaw line, her long nails playfully pricking my skin. I felt a blush burn my cheek bones, my teeth pressing down on my bottom lip so rigidly the stingy taste of my own blood staining my tongue.

"But I ask one request from you," Nabooru continued, inching her face closer to mine, eyelids lowering to a gentle close, her breath hovering over my face, filling my nostrils with the exotic scent of her. "That you will heed to the desires who has not known the touch of a man for more than a decade."

She played me so well that I almost did allow her to kiss me, her lips brushing over mine, teasing with their luscious shape. But two images flashed through my mind. One of my wife, the girl I left at home. And the other of the princess who sent me back.

Grappling her shoulders, I slowly pushed her back.

She was perplexed as she opened her eyes, staring at me dumbfounded. I couldn't do this with her, however. The obligations in my heart prevented me from becoming aroused in lust for her, despite how much older and alluring she was.

The dark beauty continued to glare at me, waiting for an explanation.

"I am a married man," I sourly confessed.

At first she watched me with bitterness, shaking herself free from my embrace. But then, a chuckle hummed through her mouth, amusement tackling her.

"You are married? And here you are chasing fairies?"

I frowned, scuffling over to the area where I dropped my hat, grabbing the mangled cloth and adjusting it onto my head. "It is more complicated than it sounds."

"Well, one would question whether you truly love your wife, that you would leave her for such a hunt."

"She is my wife. Of course I love her."

I spoke the words with no emotion, and the ferociousness that suddenly overcame me then disappeared. My face softened, posture weakened. I tried to think of Malon—hoped to long for her, miss her as my woman. But I could not find the love of a husband within me. The only woman that captured my heart was the princess from the Other Time.

And she knew—Nabooru could see the trembling desire in me for another woman. I saw it by the way she smirked towards me, nodding knowingly. But she spoke nothing about it.

Instead, her skinny hand patted my shoulder, and at her soothing gesture, I forced a small smile, the muscles of my face hurting as my lips tugged upwards.

"Come, Hero," she remarked, her palm traveling to cup my cheek. "I will take you to your belongings."

~oOo~

I praised the goddesses for the well-being of Epona.

The thieves that had me captured now welcomed me outside the fortress with the horse. I observed that it had been Nabooru's plan all along to free me, as one thief held the reins of a nurtured Epona, while the other gripped my shield and held my sack of belongings.

They had been awaiting my return, and as Nabooru and I approached them, more Gerudo came to greet us—no more than five of them—assembled in a small, vertical line.

I was so relieved to see Epona safe, that I embrace her neck so feverishly, and even she purred like a lion against my ear, her hair brushing lovingly along my cheek. The Gerudo had done nothing to the her, and even though I had suffered wounds from them, I my injuries were no longer to the extent where they hindered my movement.

As I treasured my companion, I was interrupted by one of the Gerudo, who gave me my shield, then tied the sack near the saddle of Epona. As I watched her do this, I realized my arms felt peculiarly light, and I realized one thing to be missing:

The sword.

I felt a panic only for a moment, but as I saw Nabooru approach one of the women from the line, she handed the queen a long, beautifully encased object. It was tall and powerful, with a red, velvet covering, sparkling jewels encrusted on its exterior. A chill tickled my spine, the sensation forcing me to stand upward—confidently, the stature of a warrior.

And here, Nabooru came to me, with the elegance yet authority of the queen that she was. Out of its case she pulled the long object out by its handle, and there the magnificent silver of the blade revealed itself, just as it gleamed in my dreams—so powerful, beautiful, perfect.

Like a picture too familiar, she extended her arm, offering me this treasure, and her women kept silent, watching in awe and wonderment, as I accepted with my left hand Ganondorf's sword.

I expected to feel an evil in it upon taking the blade, but the other sensation that marveled through me was a new-found dedication.

"This was the only thing left I had of my king," confessed the Gerudo beauty to me, loud enough for her thieves to hear. "Yet, a greater force is telling me it must now belong to you. Perhaps I must now truly accept what the Goddess of Sand wishes to do with the Gerudo. And even your deities agree that now you must take this from me."

Her voice lowered when she held my shoulders, wanting what she said next to remain private between us. "This was the sword of a good man, the one he was and could have become if it wasn't for the devilish greed that transformed him. Please remember what became of Ganondorf, and do not let yourself be fooled by selfish desires. They will destroy you, just like the king of the Gerudo."

No one cheered, nor questioned, why the Hylian took the sword of the former king. They trusted the actions of their queen. And just when I thought to have reached the conclusion of my journey in Gerudo Valley, Nabooru took off the token that had been dangling from her brassiere, taking the circular charm of ancient Gerudo symbols sparkling in my eyes as I watched her hook it to my belt.

"This is blessed by the Goddess of the Sand. Your culture may not worship her, but by my decree she will guide you to safety as long as you keep this."

I looked down at the brown, glossy medallion, then slowly my eyes found the desperate spheres of Nabooru's. "Thank you," I whispered. Without smiling, she nodded.

A gust of air pushed the sands as I mounted Epona. The grains flew around my body, tracing the shape of me and my horse. It was warming, approving. I felt a divine presence in the sands. Perhaps it was the goddesses, or the deity of the Gerudo. Or maybe all of them urged me forward, where I left Gerudo Valley for the last time, Epona galloping past the bridge, forever leaving the land.

I turned my neck for one final look, however, and what I saw shocked me. In the distance, after I crossed the bridge, I saw the form of Nabooru take a cradle toppled with a fierce, enveloping flame that yearned to touch something to engulf its menacing blaze. And standing there for a moment—watching me stampede away—she knelt down before the bridge, lowering the hand that held the fire until the flames touched the wood of the bridge.

The fire captured the only means of entering the desert, and as I snapped my neck back in the direction before me with wet eyes to look away from the queen's destruction, an explosion pounded my ears, causing me to thrust the reins for Epona to move faster, gallop harder, forever leaving the land of the Gerudo.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: The Medallion

I carried with me the sword of a murderer, a cruel villian. And yet, it represented a gentler side of him, of a time when he was a man of good intentions, capable of love and with a healthy desire to clutch the heart of the woman now queen of the Gerudo.

This was the last piece of him she had—the remainder of her people possessed—about the most loathsome man in the history of Hyrule. I took with me the good of Ganondorf, with knowledge of what created him into a man filled with a dirty, captivating greed.

And it was the influence of the Hylians that transformed him. My very own race.

Meeting Nabooru for the first time in this world brought painful revelations to me. As I thought that everything would be the same as it was in the Other Time—but, in fact, better—Gerudo Valley had changed for the worse. And somehow, perhaps by some strange turn of events, Nabooru was responsible for warning the royal family. I had kept away from the Door of Time, but somehow because of that, Ganondorf had some sort of confrontation with Nabooru, and there that led her to fully see the monster he had become.

Was it only natural for me to see my own kingdom as the good entity for all this time, or horrendously naïve? I believed it so, breathed it in fact, that I lived in a nation of morality and standards, and that Ganondorf had been the enemy. It was a black and white perspective.

But Nabooru showed me—she showed me the truth, of how both sides shared faults. And Hyrule carried plenty of shame.

Princess Zelda lied to me...She took advantage of my curiosity, my ignorance of what happened that small amount of time. The whole kingdom had been faithful to remain quiet of the matter, so I lived those twelve years utterly clueless, too busy milking cows than inquiring about the history of my own kingdom. But I chose to live a simpler life, I also threw away my knowledge, a thirst to learn, a part of me that was always curious on my journeys.

At this time of my life, after I left Gerudo Valley and traveled in the night to the dangerous Lost Woods, I began to question heavily who Zelda had become in this Hyrule. She was definitely not the Princess from the Other Time. She may have possessed the same beauty, and even the wisdom that shone so melodically from her, but she was still not the one I trusted. No, she was different.

Not a warrior, a defender. A woman wise through time. Here, she was wise through sayings, scriptures, trivial matters. But in the Other Time, her obstacles defined her knowledge. She hid for her life from Ganondorf, living for years in disguise, while she searched for me, waiting for my return to bring light to her fallen kingdom.

She had lied to me then, but only to protect me. Unlike now, where she chose to protect her reputation.

Zelda kept the facts of the massacre a secret from me, so that I could remain terribly unknowing of such a merciless action. The king betrayed the alliance of Nabooru, and sent soldiers to rid of her species. And by what I saw upon my arrival, they damn well near succeeded.

Nabooru...she was not a sage here, did not know what would have been her destiny if Ganondorf did get to the Triforce. Instead, she experienced the grief of her people, the guilt and satisfaction of betrayal. I could see a part of her still loved the man who gave her the sword, even though she swore she hated him.

Zelda sending me back to this time seemed to cause more problems than it fixed. But at least she lived her life in peace. And even I did for a long while.

Yet I wished desperately that she never had sent me back. The pain of this fierce hope would fill my chest with anguish, because despite her good intentions, I should have told her. I should have told her to keep me with her.

~oOo~

"She should have never sent me back," I whispered to myself, fingering the medallion that hung loosely on my belt.

I did not speak to anyone in particular—perhaps the three goddesses, or even the Goddess of the Sand herself, since her spirit was infused within the token. Whoever would listen to me, I hoped for a miraculous removal. I did not belong here; this was not how my princess intended for Hyrule to become.

I had been traveling the woods for several hours, being led by the instincts of the medallion, as well as Nabooru's general directions for me—to follow the direction of the rustling of the leaves. The guidance from the wind was supposedly from the sand goddess herself, leading me as she would one of the Gerudo traveling in secret.

The moon lit the night's sky, and with the fall of the sun, my body ached with exhaustion. Epona was already asleep, her form nestled against the bark of a tree, while I sat on the grassy ground beside her, picking at the particles of oats I had packed with me.

Bringing a speck to my tongue, I scowled in the blandness of it, my nose wrinkling while my eyes shut tightly, tongue glossing over my teeth.

I could not rid of the taste, and it only worsened as I continued to devour more of the bitter grains. My stomach begged for any sort of consumption, growling at me to feed it. But the oats and barley failed to suffice its demands.

As hunger continued to consume me, I forced myself to be distracted, in hopes of momentarily forgetting the painful contractions in my belly. There the shiny crispness of Nabooru's token glistened over my eyes, as if calling out to me to let go of the small sack of oats and focus on the piece of jewelry.

Beneath the stars it glistened, almost whispering my name. And with intrigue, my eyes examined the token. It resembled the Spirit Medallion, but there were differences, such as the size and engraving. Licking my lips, I further examined the gift, wondering if every Gerudo owned such a magical thing, while images of the bridge that led to their land bursting into flames consumed my mind.

Nabooru made sure no Hylian would ever enter into the desert, and yet she also kept the remainder of her people isolated, with no chance to further breed or allow them to escape into a more prosperous land. I did not know why she did such a thing, that perchance her dreams had told her, or my arrival sparked a dead hope in her; that with everyone she held dear gone, she destroyed the last means of communication she held with the outside world.

Whatever the reason, there was no turning back now. I held with me her guiding medallion, as well as the sword of the man who was meant to be my enemy, but was also the queen's lover.

For twelve years I had been terrified to return to the Lost Woods. For, I had almost died here. Yet, blindly did I run to this meadow, relying on the power of a little token, traveling by the summoning of the wind, creating by a goddesses my culture did not even believe in. Was this the intention of the Farore, Din, and Nayru? Did they also mingle with the sand goddess?

Whichever one of them it was, if not all, I was being led by a divine force, relying on the mystical powers of a blessed artifact.

With a sigh, my fingers slipped off the medallion, and plopping my legs outwards in front of me comfortably, I returned to my little sack, resuming to chew on stale outs with a sour expression.

And there, with that bitter taste stinging my tongue, I fell asleep, not even bothering to remove the armor that hung heavily on my back.

~oOo~

The tune I heard was familiar, coming from an also recognizable source.

As my eyelids heaved opened, my face became devoured by a fierce yawn, and suddenly my hears were drowned by the odd sound of childish giggling.

And again the tune—created by perfecting fingering on an ocarina.

It took me a moment to completely regain myself from my slumber, and by the dimness of the moon, I knew that it was barely morning, and my rest had been minimal. But the music had awoken me, and when my eyes rid of the black blur of early wakening, I saw the form of a little creature merrily blowing the pleasant notes from a shining Ocarina of Time.

"Goddesses!" I hastily exclaimed, my voice so coarse that I could feel my throat burn as I immediately jumped up from my position, my back aching from the awkward posture I had been in for the last few hours. I had no time, however, to sulk, fretting while I loomed over the dark creature, the shadows of the forest concealing its true form from me. Yet, the ocarina shone a bright blue, distinguishing itself from the foolish little monster.

"Give that back!" I boyishly exclaimed, lunging to snatch the object from it, yet it giggled again, in an annoyingly familiar manner, dodging me with a dash of its noisy legs. It sounded like the rustling of straw.

My attempt to take back what was mine only resulted in me hugging myself, and at this sight, the odd thing laughed. Within its little game of skipping and ducking, it had made its way to a patch of ground highlighted by the moon, allowing me to at last see its identity.

I frowned at the revelation. It giggled again.

It sounded like straw because the critter wore a suit of straw. I only took a second to closely observe it, but it didn't take me long to realize that before me was a skull kid, apparently a Kokiri who at one time became lost.

And here it had my ocarina.

Though its face was brown and expressionless, I could still see the taunting amusement it possessed. It brought the ocarina back to its mouth again, and without lips played that damn familiar tune.

What was it? It was on the tip of my tongue.

"That is a very important instrument," I tried to reason with the skull kid, taking careful, concentrated steps towards it. My boots flattened out the grasses on the ground, my knees remaining bent as I inched closer to it. "I ask that you please return it to me."

I was only a short distance away from the creature now, and with its beady, raisin like eyes, it stopped playing the catchy melody, and chose to look at me with a dramatic tilt to its head.

"I lost my flute. Surely you cannot let me live without music!"

I frowned at the tone of its squeaky, childish voice. Huffing, my eyes scanned the vicinity, noticing nothing else around me except the trees, dirt, and a still sleeping Epona. Returning my attention back to the skull kid, I allowed my arms to relax by my sides.

"Listen," I began, lifting my brows to emphasize the word, "you don't understand the power that lurks in that instrument. It cannot be mishandled. Please, give it back."

When I tenderly reached my arms out to receive the ocarina from it, it seemed that the skull kid contemplated the idea for a moment, looking at the blue ivory object it held, then at my trembling, erect hands. As it gazed at me with puzzlement in its blacks eyes, I smiled, hoping to ease the poor little monster.

Yet, it only huffed, turning away from me as it hugged the ocarina close over its vested chest. "No. It's mine now."

I growled. "Give it back now, you brat!"

"Never!" Its giggling began to heavily frustrate me, as it began to dance around while I tried to take back the ocarina. As I chased it, the skull kid played the same, wretched song that I could not completely remember.

"You'll never catch me!" it sang, continuing to blow its breath into the sacred, holy instrument. Chasing the skull kid for several minutes, my breath began to quicken, creating a fullness in my chest, droplets of sweat trailing down my forehead.

"Give it back to me, damn you!" I cried, realizing we had been running in a giant circle around a tree. But, the little hellion continued to run from me, giggling, playing the ocarina.

"Nope, nope. It's mine, it's mine! The song of the forest belongs to me!"

The song of the forest, that's what it was! The helpful tune Saria had taught to me long ago. How did this little thing know of the song? It couldn't have been the same skull kid that caused the raucous in Termina—there were no fairies with it, and it's voice differed from the other's distinct tone.

Who was this little thing, vexed by the shiny blue instrument?

"Got it!"

I had managed to outwit the skull kid, running opposite direction from it, and leaping to pin it down as it yelped a loud, shrilling screech that cooked my ears. Despite the horrid noise, I triumphantly bit down on my bottom lip, my left eye squinting when I yanked the ocarina from its hand and released my weight off of the skull kid.

Rubbing the cloth of my tunic over the instrument to polish it, I grinned with relief. And for a moment, I forgot about the skull kid, who only momentarily sulked in defeat, crossing its arms over its stuffy chest, wishing it could frown.

"Cheater," it proclaimed, before becoming amused with another one of my treasures.

It happened too abruptly—so quick, in fact, that I didn't even realize it right away. Somehow, during my relieved distraction, the skull kid had managed to maneuver its way to me—and it was a short creature, its height reaching my waist—and removed a vital piece of my attire from me.

One moment I was relishing the ocarina, and the next I felt the loss of a spiritual force; an emptiness in my body, one I could strongly feel surge through me. When I looked up, I saw the skull kid, standing in its moonlit area, and my eyes instantly plummeted to the glimmering token it held in its hand, staring at it with amusement, like a jeweler inspecting a ruby.

Rubbing its lack of chin, it giggled again, now reaching to scratch the top of its hat. "What's this here?" it mused with a dangerous curiosity, pecking at the medallion. "Something I could eat?"

And before I could make another move, the skull kid plucked the token into it's mouth, and with a struggle, swallowed the piece whole, rubbing at its hollow belly with satisfaction.

"A bit sour, but not bad. Not bad at all."

Gawking with wide, ecstatic eyes, my mouth fell agape, as my whole body tightened into a fierce, unrelenting contraction, my grip on the ocarina so compact I almost cracked the thing; while the skull kid stood there, pleased with itself, now stretching its short arms, as if ready for a nap.

"Well, that was a decent snack. Better be on my way now. Next time I suggest you carry something a little more chewy and not so stale."

I was utterly speechless, consumed by horror, my face coated with no emotion, or expression, but with only big eyes and and a hanging jaw. I watched as the skull kid casually began to walk past me, humming Saria's song merrily to itself, swaying its head along to the rhythm.

This was where I lost control of myself.

With a rumbling roar, I sprinted to the skull kid, the muscles of my thighs burning as I tackling the creature to the ground. It hollered in helplessness, lying pitifully on its belly. Turning it around to face me, I saw fear gleam over its black eyes. In an otherwise expressionless face, I saw true fright overtake it.

But the rage of being forever lost and unaccomplished took over me, controlling my mind, directing my actions. And pathetically did the skull kid whimper when, its body shrinking as I reached behind my back and pulled out the sword that lied nestled in its heath. Even in the gentle rising of the sun, the blade gleamed, shining viciously, reflecting the image of the terrified being.

"What have you done?" I cried to the creature, pointing my sword powerfully at its face, causing the skull kid to further curl itself underneath me. "You've forever doomed me!"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" it pleaded in response to my deep bellow. "I didn't mean—maybe there's a way—"

"It's too late," I groaned, then pressing my lips together, my chest lifting and dropping with each strong breath I took. Pressing my knees into the belly of the skull kid, I held the sword with both hands, bringing it up over me, where the light of the rising sun shone over the silvery blade. The skull kid whimpered in agony, trying desperately to scurry out from the stance I trapped it in.

"I will have to take it out of you."

Closing my eyes, a grunt rumbled in my throat as I forced the sword down to the skull kid's body, while hearing it beg for mercy, crying for help.

Please remember what became of Ganondorf, and do not let yourself be fooled by selfish desires.

I halted the full execution of the sword, the tip of the blade remaining only a breath away from piercing the skull kid. Slowly, it opened its eyes, peeking in bafflement, as it had expected to feel a tremendous amount of pain, and now wondered what had convinced me to stop so suddenly.

The words of Nabooru poisoned by mind. My eyes becoming mesmerizing pools, I became lost as her voice continued to scold me.

They will destroy you, just like the king of the Gerudo.

I dropped my sword, and with a fierce clang, the metal trampled on the ground. And forgetting about the skull kid, I released my weight off of its little form. Crying, it stood on its wobbly legs, rubbing at its eyes as it scurried away from me.

I made no attempts to catch it—to somehow get the medallion back from its belly in less violent means. Instead, I remained on my knees, staring into the passing of the night, where daylight at last made its appearance, where Nabooru's lecture continued to repeat itself with me.

They will destroy you.

Slowly, my neck turned to look at the blade that lied in a clump on the ground, the sun gleaming over its edges. And for the first time since my departure, I felt afraid. Not of the journey that awaited me, or the strong new possibility of death. No, the fear I felt was towards myself.

I did not want to become like Ganondorf. And as much as I swore that would not happen, I feared it would.

I was sure even he did not expect for his good intentions to become selfish feats. I could not let the same become of me. But what had just occurred? I nearly killed the little skull kid because he swallowed the medallion whole. In my anguish, I had taken the sword and nearly cut open the bowels of a transformed critter just to take it back.

That skull kid could have been anyone from the Kokiri Forest, perhaps even someone I once knew long ago. It knew Saria's song, did it not? It troubled me how close I was to butchering a mischievous thing that had once been a child.

And yet, it still had the medallion, and who knew whether it began to disintegrate and burn in acidic torture, if the bowels of skull kids had operated in such a way.

~oOo~

I found myself repeating a familiar cycle of becoming hopelessly lost.

Just as I had been as a child, wandering aimlessly through the woods, unknowing of where I was or how to escape. I did not know how long Epona and I traveled through the maze. But as the sun began to fall, and the horse's movement became gentler and slower, hours must had gone by. Hours of pointless searching for some way to get through the woods.

There was no music to guide us, and the gentle, mystifying rustling of the wind vanished. Nothing led the way, aiding in the distress I began to feel. There was also no sign of the skull kid, as it was probably hiding from me now, terribly afraid that I would return to finish its slaying.

Just as I was as a child, lost and perishing in these exact woods, here I returned twelve years later, and death had been waiting for me this whole time, to take what was rightfully his. Perhaps there was a force much stronger than the goddesses, than wanted to claim me. And it seemed now that that this force would possess me, and not even the goddesses could protect me.

Softly, I tugged Epona's reigns, where she stopped her trudging movement. And as the darkness of the sunset began to tint the forest into a bloody crimson, I remained saddled on the horse, my body still as a statue. In the horizon, I stared at the further maze that awaited us. We would only keep traveling, randomly deciding where our next turn would be, all the while getting more and more utterly lost.

I sensed that this was my fate all along, to wither here in these woods. I would leave no other mark of my bravery, but only decay into a forgotten memory.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled the bland air of the trees and dirt, the smell tickling my nostrils, letting me know that this would be the last scent my body would ever know. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the light.

No, not the light—but a little girl. Standing with sandals and in a plain, white dress.

Initially, I was shocked by her brisk appearance, a gasp fleeing my mouth, but yet Epona did not fret, as I did. She seemed soothed by the small child, who clutched her hands behind her backs, repeatedly blinking her large, blue eyes, a pout to her lips.

She did not speak, refused to say a single word, but only stood there, staring at me, with the sad, lingering eyes of a child. And as I stared into those large blue hues, I began lost in them, seeing my reflection in her pupils, drowning in the blackness.

This was what allowed me to deem her as non-threatening, and with a sympathetic sigh, I climbed off of Epona, landing on my feet clumsily, as I cautiously and delicately approached her.

She allowed me to hear her voice at last, in the form of a whine, scooping her fists to her mouth with watery eyes. As I extended my arm to reach out to her, a gentle smile cowering over my lips, she walked backwards away from me, continuing to lament in fear.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," I spoke affectionately to the small girl, motioning with my fingers that is was alright for her to come nearer to me. "Maybe I can help you."

She resisted me at first, staring gravely at me, fear consuming her. Yet, I chose not to pressure the girl, my heart warm as she seemed to remind me of my young daughters at home, so small and innocent, now alone and afraid.

"You can trust me," I hummed.

Hesitantly, she took careful steps towards me, her toes wiggling in her sandals. When her distance was short enough, I knelt down to her level, studying her carefully to memorize her distinct features.

She was young, very young, but older than my daughters. She could not have been more than seven years old. Her hair was long, and a penetrating, pure black, parted messily in the center. I knew instantly she was not a Hylian, as her ears were curved like the Gerudo, and her skin was just as dark as theirs. Though her face was very simply crafted, and very beautiful, with a pinned back nose, and those translucent blue eyes that would hypnotize even the greatest of magicians.

Conscientiously, I stroked the little girl's cheek with the tips of my fingers, feeling the softness of the tender skin, as she began to relax in my presence, a gentle sigh breezing past her lips.

"Are you lost?" I inquired. She did not answer. Frowning, my face squirmed. "What is your name?"

I thought she would keep silent again, as she just stood there, staring at me questioningly. Yet, I saw her part her small, dark lips, moving them with precision as she began to speak.

"Victoria."

Her voice was soft, girlish. I saw her clasp her hands together nervously over her belly, her gaze plummeting as she swung her arms.

"Victoria," I repeated. "That's a very nice name. Where is your family?"

Her eyes peered at me awkwardly, piercing through me. "I don't know."

"Well, where did you see them last? Were they in the woods with you?"

"I don't remember."

Frowning, I rubbed at my chin, hoping to figure out some means to help this girl, though it seemed at the moment she shared the same fate as I did. "Well, can you tell me their names, what they look like? How long have you been here?"

Instead of providing me with any useful information, Victoria only shrugged, still throwing her arms about. "I don't know. I can't remember."

I grimaced. "What can you remember?"

She shrugged again.

I sighed, shaking my head as I wondered what could be done now. This child suffered from something that prohibited her from her memories, and I believed she was just as horribly lost as I was. I did not enjoy the idea of this girl perishing in these woods, though I did not know how I could help her.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm just as lost as you are."

This sparked her interest. "Where are you trying to go?"

I looked at her inquisitively, my brows slanting in concern. "Pulkinoa," I answered.

"Oh. I'm from there."

Eagerly, I took hold of her shoulders, being careful not to squeeze her. "But I thought you said you couldn't remember anything, that you were lost?"

"I don't know how I got here," she timidly clarified, "or of my family. But I know where Pulkinoa is."

I felt a tremendous relief as well as a simultaneous fright come over me as I glared wide-eyed at the girl, who stood there with a tired posture, letting go of her hands as she now kicked her right foot against the dirt she stood on.

Leaning my face closer to her, my lips struggled to form a comprehensible statement. "You...know where Pulkinoa is?" I managed to repeat.

Simply, she nodded.

I wanted to smile, but too many emotions corrupted my mind, to where I looked for salvation through a little girl I just had met.

"Can you take me there?" I silently pleaded, taking her shoulders once again. "Then I can help you find your family. But please, lead me and my horse to your land."

Her face was blank as she looked at me, her mouth became small as she sucked her lips in. "Okay," she whispered, blinking peculiarly at me, and at last a cry of blissful relief trampled over my mouth, and joyously I embraced the girl, feeling her rest her head against my shoulder, hugging me protectively as I held her against me.

I did not want to let her go. For a moment, as my eyes closed, I imagined myself hugging the body of Angmar or Cedany, for Victoria's felt the same. Her form was small and warm. I had even convinced myself she smelled like my daughters. Yet, when my eyes finally opened, I saw the thick, rattled black hair of another child. One who was not my own, but who I began to feel a strong connection too.

Taking her hand, I led Victoria to Epona, and lifting her up, I made sure she sat comfortably on the saddle before I plopped myself down behind her. Eagerly, she petted the neck of the horse, her fingers running through and sinking into the brown hair.

"Victoria, this is Epona," I introduced them. She giggled in front of me for the first time. Then, I noticed an interest take over her eyes as she turned her neck to look at me from behind her.

"And what is your name?" asked the little voice.

"Link," I replied, to which the child smiled.

"Thank you, Mr. Link."

I rubbed her shoulder with a smile, entranced by the girl. "I should be thanking you," I remarked, wrapping my arms around her waist to protect her, while also yielding Epona's reigns. "Which direction first?"

"Um..." she thought for a moment, pressing her small index finger to her lips. "Go straight ahead for now."

And as I directed for Epona to begin moving again, it was that instant when the whistling of the wind returned, leading us where Victoria guided.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: The Land of Women

The passing into Pulkinoa was magical, too strange to miss. I wondered how I had never found the passageway to the land before.

Victoria had led me down a very specific path, and I was too grateful for her help that I didn't question at the time how she knew her way around the Lost Woods. She was a quiet little one; only spoke when spoken to, continually addressing me as Mr. Link, while her voice was tiny, careful.

We were able to travel through the woods overnight, and the exit seemed like any other one we had countlessly passed. There was nothing significant about it; just very ordinary, easy to miss. But Victoria recognized it, knew exactly where she was leading me.

All Epona did was take one step out of the vicinity of the Lost Woods. Just a single hoof, and immediately Victoria and I were met by the vivacious light of the sunning. It was so gloriously bright, that it pierced my eyes, and hastily I brought up my forearm to block my face, squinting furiously.

But Victoria was not bothered by the light of her world. Her eyes remained large, and I swear I saw her not once blink. Even Epona struggled to adjust to the new environment. Yet as a statue, the child stared blankly ahead. I found it odd that she didn't seem very excited to return home, but only a bit rattled.

And once we removed ourselves from the forest, we were faced with bright blue skies, a dull pathway, and nothingness.

I could have compared it to Termina, or even Hyrule. But it was different, much different. I saw no grasses; the green was completely absent from the dirt Epona stepped on. Wearily, I looked around the area. But I continued to see nothing marvelous, just plain land.

"Where are your people?" I asked Victoria, leaning forward to peek over her shoulder, my brows mangling in a befuddled manner. She did not turn her neck to look at me, as I stared at the side profile of her face, patiently waiting for her response.

"These are the fields," she murmured quietly, her shoulders lifting and dropping softly. "Pulkinoa is a little further that way." Her short finger extended to the right, and my eyes followed the direction of her arm.

"That there far off…the barricade wedged between the mountains?"

Not hearing her reply, I looked back down at her, watching her nod her head. I pursed my lips, returning my gaze to witness the tall block of stone, which looked like a small engraving in the background. Yet, compared to the height of the mountains, this monument soared in the sky. Here I felt wearisome, wondering just how difficult it was going to be to truly enter the kingdom.

Pulling on Epona's reins, I motioned the horse to turn in the direction of the ominous platform, and more clearly in view did it become as we neared it.

"Will they let us in?" I asked of the little girl. She only shrugged her shoulders.

The dirt became browner the further we traveled. The ground was almost completely crafted of thick, dark clumps of that dirt, and even though the skies continued to be bright, an eerie captured the horizon; it was not substantial, but I felt a tingling the moment it happened, as well as a sense of foreboding plucking at my chest.

The closer we came to the entrance, the bigger the wall looked. No longer could I lift my head to view the top of it. Now it looked never ending, becoming a part of the sky. My neck ached as I stretched the muscles to wholly take in the structure of the barricade.

I knew it would not be easy to get within the borders. It was apparent just by the very size of the ample thing. But, when we reached the stone, two little creatures the size of Victoria stood before the entrance, which was crafted just as two wooden doors, much taller than I.

The creatures I noticed, upon completely arriving to the area, were Deku. Nabooru had lightly mentioned that a breed of the species resided there amongst the Pulkinoans. And despite their little frame, they could be menacing. Even now, I can still remember being in the body of the deku—how clammy and wet it felt, a constant itch to my rugged covering. My movement had been limited, and I wonder how the deku could stand their rigid bodies.

But the ones I saw at the entrance to Pulkinoa seemed bored and tired as they held the rope rather loosely that connected to the large doors. They initially hadn't even noticed our arrival, almost asleep with hunched postures. They were peculiarly shaped, their forms appearing more advanced than those I came upon in the woods. Like walking, breathing trees, they appeared; with functioning hands and plump, hollow bellies. Colorful leaves adorned their heads, their mouths in a constant pucker.

After a moment of no reflex, both deku guards noticed our presence. At first they glanced at us, in unison, and, startled, took a second, exasperated look. A deep breath entered my body, but refused to release in a form of a sigh. Lifting Victoria, I brought her off the horse, removing myself as well, taking a gentle hold of Epona's reigns.

I saw their grasp on the rope tighten, protective of their kingdom. I did not know how to properly explain myself, to request permission inside. My appearance must have seemed bizarre to them—a Hylian traveling to Pulkinoa? Yet, then I remembered my little partner who traveled with me, the child who could help grant me access to the kingdom.

"You are not from Pulkinoa!" squeaked one of guards, his eyes gleaming a very empty black. He tugged a little on the rope he held, causing a quick rumble of the wood, as if to show me the power he possessed over me. "What business do you have standing before us?"

"Yes sir!" chimed in the second deku. "Surely we shall not allow you within these borders!"

"We are the protectors, you see! We must keep trespasser from entering the kingdom. What kind of warriors would we be if we allowed your kind to cross?"

The opposing deku gave his partner a worried glance. "What is this creature? I have never seen a type like it before. But positively it is not Pulkinoan."

"Of course it is not Pulkinoan. Look at it's ears! And that pasty complexion. Not to mention the flowery hair. This thing is a stranger, a stranger!"

I could only take so much of the painful, muffled voices of the deku, who continued to argue amongst themselves as to what sort of creature I was. Apparently, they were not familiar with Hylians, and I wondered how many of my race had actually ever wondered into this sect of the Lost Woods.

Frowing, my fingers clasped the shoulders of Victoria. With wet, capacious eyes, she peered up at me curiously, and cooperated as I pushed her forward.

"I have a child with me."

Only then did the deku guards cease their quarreling, steadily turning away from each other to face me and the girl I had proudly declared unto them.

"I found her in the Lost Woods. She is Pulkinoan."

They stared at her, dumfounded, taking in the texture of her black her, how dark her skin beamed under the sunlight. A shyness took over Victoria, her hands clasping together sheepishly, her right knee beginning to sway as she held herself before them, awaiting their approval.

"Why, she is Pulkinoan!"

"Very much so."

Hope filled within me. "Will you let us through, then?"

Here, they paused, glancing towards one another, all the while never letting go of the rope. Then, they began to babble, not in the common language that we spoke, but pure gibberish spilled from their snouts. My ears rang with the sound of their noisy, rattling squeaks. This went on for a while, as the deku began to shift in positions, removing a single hand from the rope so they could make gestures to each other.

Sighing with a subtle frustration, I glanced down at Victoria, and quietly she stood next to me, her face expressionless, with stiff lips and eyes the size of deku nuts. She merely stared at the babbling guards. Yet, it seemed that she could feel my stare, as I saw her move her neck towards me, lifting her gaze so that her eyes loomed over me.

They were big, magical spheres, the shade of blue much more intense and mystifying than my own. Her presence warmed me, and despite the unneccassary chaos that was happening, I seemed to forget about my worries for that moment, while I took her hand in mine, holding her like I had with my daughters.

As my thumb smoothed over the tiny bumps of her knuckles, I returned my attention back to the deku, lifting a fist to my mouth to relase an exaggerated clearing of my throat. The force of it burned the insides of my neck, yet the action had gotten the attention of the guards, causing them to resume to their previous, secure stance of grappling the ropes to the opening with both hands.

"Will you let us through?" I inquired once more. There was a short silence.

"Well…" began the deku on the right, "…you see, you are not a Pulkinoan. We cannot so easily allow you inside."

"But the girl," the other swiftly interrupted, "she is Pulkinoan. We can welcome her."

I rolled my eyes, squeezing Victoria's hand. "She needs guidance. You choose to be responsible for whatever happens to her if she wanders alone? It will be at your expense." My remark got them thinking, and after another private conversation with each other, they refocused on the situation.

With defeated sighs, they positioned themselves to the sides of the doors, fist over fist as they grasped the old thick ropes; with a strength I was surprised to see come out of them, I watched as a shadow overcame us, the encasement of the doors parting in half and blocking the light of the day from touching us. The wood crackled loudly as it was pulled, almost resisting being opened. Yet, as soon as the shadow washed over our forms, it carefully began to disintegrate, until we were faced with the sight filled with inhabitance and life.

Letting go of Victoria's hand, my fingers lost the warmth from her skin as I went to take Epona's reigns, leading her through the entrance while the child followed, and once we had passed through, I marvelously gandered at the new vicinity, my eyes consuming my face, the clamor of the doors echoing as they creaked to close behind us.

Here was the land where I would begin the search, to where the light would lead me—the light exemplified by the goddesses, of which they constantly shone in my dreams.

But, as I became more aware of where I now was, the smile I held began to fade away, for there was no light in this land. It was dismal, brown, and the beings that crowded it were filled with the same life and color.

With streets of broken stone and outdoor shops built from wooden crates; of a short, advanced hybrid of deku, holding out dull jewelry to sell; of few men, most old and withering, the same glum frown pursed on their dry lips; of mingling women with sun darkened skin and black hair of varying lengths and cuts, tall and lean with the smallest waists I'd ever seen, and flaring hips and buttocks rounder than the shape of their breasts. Darkness lingered over this beauty, even as the sun blazed and the women shopped. The fruit was dark, and a kind I had never seen before. I saw a Pulkinoan take a date in her palm, and it camouflaged in the hue of her flesh. Everything around me was tinted.

Naturally, my form struck the commoners, while we slowly traversed the markets, feelings wards of grey eyes strike me—irises glistening upon my observance, pupils brightening when realization struck them at last. I was fresh meat in a starving nation, a sign of hope for a sexually thirsty species. I may have been an odd sight in this land, but I saw them care not. It all resorted back to the nature that I was man and they were women, and they wanted to take me as such.

I had lifted Victoria to sit on Epona's saddle when I gently tugged the horse's reigns, leading her past the carriage of darkened fruits. She did not seem troubled by the stares, yet mingled there pleasantly, glancing around occasionally at her surroundings, as if searching for something familiar.

"Can you remember anything about your family yet?" I had asked the little girl, peeking at her with a hopefulness penetrating my lungs. Once our gazes met, I raised my right eyebrow, feeling the pull of the mangled hair there.

"No," was all Victoria spoke.

Sighing, I swiftly glanced ahead of me. "Well, are you hungry then?"

She blinked. "Um."

Passing by another crate of purple toned dates, I motioned for Epona to stop, hearing her mouth smack as her hoofs clamored against the ground. I looked at the woman who stood behind the small, outdoor shop, as she stood there glumly, her long hair falling in front of her face, muffling the sound of her hypnotic breathing. Her elbows leaned against the wood of the counter sloppily, her chest releasing with each snore that escaped her.

Fumbling my lips, I picked up one of the dates, taking in its curvacious structure, built almost like the women of Pulkinoa.

"Do you eat these things?" I asked the girl.

When I looked at her, Victoria was observantly rubbing her chin, a perplexed look capturing her face.

"I can't remember," she confessed.

It was intriguing how she could recall so little of her personal life and yet knew exactly how to direct me to the kingdom for the depths of the Lost Woods. My nails sinking into the skin of the fruit, I stared at Victoria peculiarly, her face seeminbg so pleadingly innocent. I could feel my brows wedge together, as if they were sewn that way, my suspicions of her never completely leaving as I turned to the woman at the shop, clearing my throat to get her attention.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

She merely grumbled under her breath, her shoulder lightly twitching. I tried once more. "Excuse me."

I saw her eyes slightly open , looking up at me glumly, while a murmur purred on her lips. "Zahirah's Delicacies. How may I—"

Here, she interrupted herself, as her eyes seemed to become accustomed to the grim daylight. While her lids lifted to expose the actual size of her eyes, she at last saw me before her, and upon this actualization, she lifted herself to stand with a firm posture, rubbing her fists to her eyes before glaring at me once more , befuddled.

Now that I could see her, she was indeed attractive, her face short and eyes taking up the majority. She appeared like every other Pulkinoan I saw, and her reaction to me seemed to be the same. Clearing my throat in hopes to make the situation less awkward, I held out the date to her.

"Sorry to wake you," I unsympathetically apologized. "But, can you tell me what these are?"

Her eyes glanced down at the fruit, then advanced back to me, the arch of her brow lifting in intrigue. "They're gualishes," spoke her thick voice. "Finest in Pulkinoa."

Miss Zahirah became silent as I eased over to Epona, removing the sack I had tied to her, and from there pulled out a pouch that jingled melodically as I pulled it out and sprawled its contents on the counter.

I could see the reflection in her eyes of the sparkling rupees, the mixture of colors seeming to mesmerize her. Lips parting to gaze in amazement, he graceful fingers traced the dimensions of the jewels.

"I only have Hylian currency," I explained.

"No, no, that is not a problem," she urged me, taking several of the coins. "This is perfect. Take as many as you'd like."

Scooping the rest of the rupees back into the pouch, I returned to Victoria, lifting her off of Epona and watched as she scurried to the gualishes, taking as many as could fit on her elbows and forearms. Merrily, the child giggled as she gathered all the fruits she could and forced them into the sack, making sure to grab one for herself and pierce it with her teeth. Black juices fell down her chin as she devoured the gualish, her eyes closed in delight, graciousness lighting up her face.

Returning my attention back to Zahirah, I nodded in gratitude. "Thank you, Miss. We really appreciate it."

She was still mystified by the rupees however, holding them in her palm with complete fascination. Her eyes were large when she looked at me, her hair falling to the left shoulder as she tilted her head curiously at me.

"You said this is Hylian currency?" she repeated, squinting at the contents in her hand, in which I nodded. "You are from...Hyrule?"

"Yes."

Here, she leaned her face closer to mine, her bottom lip forward while her eyes inspected me. "A Hylian," she whispered, her breath warming my face and smelling fiercely like flowers. "You are the first young man Pulkinoa has seen in a very long time, sir."

Oddly, I chuckled, pulling myself away from her, my hand reaching to the back of my head. "Yea, well, I kind of noticed that."

"I hope you have! Do you not see the women stare? What do you think you are so here so casually? It is rare for outside races to be roaming our streets."

I looked down at Victoria for a moment, while she slurped on the juicy fruit, humming merrily as she continued to nibble. Once resuming back to Zahirah, I saw her leaning her elbow against the counter against, her cheek resting on her palm, a lack of patience in her eyes.

"I have come here because I have heard that fairies roam here."

"Fairies?"

The high-pitched reply came from underneath me, and looking down, I saw Victoria peer at me inquisitively, her cheeks and jaw covered in dry juice stains, pieces of the gualish stuck in her teeth. "You're here for fairies?"

Even Zahirah was interested in the girl's response. "The little one has a point. What business does a grown man have with fairies? Out of all the legends spoken of Pulkinoa, I am not convinced that a handsome young man as yourself has come to look at our fairies."

Zahirah's smile was playful towards me, yet I did not return the gesture. Instead, I pressed my palms of the counter, sighing before I spoke to her.

"I have not come here to mingle with the women," I proclaimed. "I have come on behalf of a quest, and need to know where the fairies of Pulkinoa are."

She raised her shapely brow at me. "I am thrilled that you trust me to grant you such knowledge," she began, looking at her clenched hand, uncurling it to reveal the rupees I had given her, "but, frankly, there hasn't been the light of a fairy gracing this pathetic part of the kingdom for years. Only the king would know of such matters."

"The king?"

"Yes, King Shahin." Now her fingers were again gracing the edges of the currency, her mahogany mouth forming into a hollow smirk. "He rules over this dismal place. Has been king for a very long time. Only he is aware of where all those fairies have gone."

She was only spitting bouts of information at me, purposely taunting me as she continued to relish her newly gained rupees. Controlling my frustration, I took in a deep breath. "Is there any way I can request to see the king? Can you tell me where his castle is?"

At first she merely looked at me, her expression bewildered, as if I were insane. Then, she broke out into a frenzy of laughter, giggling manically at my silly inquiry. Her grin consumed her entire face, swallowing her skin until all I saw of her was mouth and teeth.

"Silly Hylian!" she beamed. "Do you think you can just merrily prance to the castle and visit with the king? You believe him to care about your little quest?"

"Then how can I speak to him?"

I retorted hastily, intruding on her hysteria, hushing her instantly by grabbing her wrist gently, receiving her attention now. With eyes glistening mysteriously, she gandered at me thoroughly, absorbing the vehemence in my gaze, the tightness of my expression.

"Goodness," she breathed, pausing before she pulled her arm away from me and held herself protectively, tightening her hold on the rupees much more direly. "You very well are intent on seeing our king, are you?"

Frowning softly, I nodded. Her lips curved downward as well, the muscles of her cheeks and mouth relaxing, while her stare fell down to her palm as she extended it, the sparkle of the rupees reflecting in her eyes.

"What if I were to make a deal with you, Hylian?"

My brows furrowed with interest. "I'm listening."

"I can take you to the king. We can make a generous donation unto him." Zahirah reached into her crate and pulled out a ripe, purple gualish, placing it down on the surface for me to look at.

"Your fruits?" I asked with confusion, scratching at my forehead.

"Yes, usually King Shahin purchases them from me, but his courts would be especially delighted if they received them as a gift. And there I can introduce you, Hylian, which would most likely heighten his interests."

She explained her idea so cleverly, apparently creating the concept as she spoke it on the spot. As much as I wanted to believe her, I couldn't allow myself to completely do so. Why was she willing to help me, to sacrifice all her gualishes for free.

Leaning onto the counter, I grimaced. "And what do you gain from all this?"

Smugly, she smiled at last releasing her fists and allowing the rupees to drop onto the wood, sounding like a delicate instrument clanging together harmoniously. Her eyes tinted black as she gawked at me—a deep, penetrating black. I could see myself in her pupils, the reluctance in my gaze, the lack of trust for a woman I had just met.

"You give me the rest of this Hylian currency of yours."

She had a sudden unnatural thirst for the rupees. Maybe it was the sight of fresh color that was driving her mad, but I could see the dryness of her tongue for the money, begging to be drenched with more of the glistening product.

"I don't know if I could do that."

"But why would you keep it?" she marveled, taking me by the shoulders to emphasize her point. "You are in Pulkinoa now; such tokens are not used here! You would definitely find no other use for them."

"But if other Pulkinoans are so transfixed by our currency, they perchance could be of good use to me."

Zahirah did not take my taunt too well, abruptly letting go of me and angrily crossing her arms over the mounds of her chest. "What a selfish man," she spat, her black brows crinkled in arrogance. "I offer my assistance and you cannot relinquish a small sacrifice? I would be losing profit not only on gualishes, but also from buyers while we'd be gone. All I ask is for your beautiful Hylian currency. That is all."

I wanted to point out to her that she had been sleeping before I arrived, and risked being stolen from and losing business if I hadn't interfered. Yet, instead, I took the pouch yet again, and she and Victoria watched with wide eyes as I held it upside down over the counter, allowing the remainder of the rupees to spill out, landing messily and loudly over each other resulting in an almost hypnotic clamoring.

With a spreading smile and victorious hum, Zahirah scooped the rupees closer to her, her mouth watering with satisfaction; then, carefully, she lifted her gaze.

"You will not regret this, Hylian."

~oOo~

"You say your name is Link?"

My ear tingled as I heard her voice speak to me from overhead. Quickly I glanced at Zahirah as she sat on Epona's saddle, straddling the horse immodestly, while grappling Victoria who uncomfortably sat in front of her. The woman's skirt spread to reveal the swells of her thighs, darker than the sands of Gerudo Valley, almost matching the hue of Epona's hair. Her sandals dwindled on her feet, as she kept her toes compact to keep the shoes from falling off.

I continued to pull the reigns of the horse as she directed the way, a grumble trapped in my throat, begging to be released. Yet, the Pulkinoan was aiding me, I supposed. Perhaps I could have found other measures to get to the king (if, in fact, she was telling me the truth), but I wanted to waste no time.

Epona had only little difficulty dragging the crate of gualishes behind her, and Victoria continued to eat the dripping fruit, not minding the dark stains it left on her dress, or even on her face.

"I call him Mister Link," Victoria responded to Zahirah's spoken thought.

At the child's remark, the older woman laughed. "You sure have quite a character traveling with you, Mister Link," she mused, using her fingers as a brush through Victoria's mangled hair. Half way down the length, her fingers were stuck, in which she tenderly pulled through the tangles, causing Victoria to flinch only a little.

"Yes, she is a very sweet child."

As the girl smiled, Zahirah, however, turned her neck to gander at me, her expression turning much more curious. "You say you are from Hyrule, then what are you doing with this small Pulkinoan child? Is she your daughter?"

At my immediate halt, Epona stopped moving. I felt a rush of sorrow sweep over me, claiming every part of my body, forcing the images of Angmar and Cedany to engrave themselves on my eyes.

"No," I answered simply yet solemnly, a shudder to my form. My neck snapped up towards the two females. "She is not my daughter."

At my demeanor, Zahirah frowned, while Victoria continued sucking the juices from the fruit. "Well, I was only curious. Both of you do have the same eyes."

With a sigh, I tugged on the reigns of Epona, and our movement began again. "It does not make her my daughter. I have two daughters in Hyrule."

"Oh, you do then? So you are married?"

"You ask too many questions."

"Well, I am only curious. You are the stranger to my kingdom. The least you could do is answer some simple inquiries." At this, she glared at Victoria once more, both her brows lifting.

"So what exactly are you doing with this girl then? What is your name, darling?"

Pulling her puckered mouth from the gualish, Victoria's lips smacked. "Victoria." Her tongue glossed over her purple lips.

"If you must know," I replied, keeping Epona on the stone trail as we at began to finally leave the busy part of the kingdom and entered into a narrow pathway, "I found her in the Lost Woods. She led me to Pulkinoa."

"You simply found her? That's all you can say?"

"Mister Link promised he is going to help me find my family."

For a moment, I focused my attention on Victoria's, a smile easing my face. "Don't worry," I told the girl, "I will try to get you home. Maybe the king can help us."

I must say now, that Zahirah was only an interesting distraction and eventual help to my journey, but I only knew her for a short time. She aided in taking me to the king castle, leading me with careful direction as well as helping me walk through the path of interested women, who eyed me with lust and a flaming curiosity—of men who watched me with their old, frustrated glares, hate encrusted in the wrinkles of their faces, as well as the glimmer in their eyes.

I had barely been in Pulkinoa and already the women were drawn to me, while the men seemed to despise my existence. Their ugliness did not match the beauty of the female Pulkinoans, and in this land I saw a savage sexual frustration, one that could not be quenched, and my strange appearance alone enticed them, made them wonder why such a man had come to their kingdom. I looked nothing Pulkinoan, did not possess the same exoticism as the race. There was such an ethnic flare here, one that I had yet to even see amongst the Gerudo. All the women wore their hair down, were not afraid to show their bodies, the distinct curve they held, proclaiming themselves true women.

Hair blacker than darkness, than coal, than anything more black than that—and skin kissed by the sun...no, no—sexed by the sun. Dark, sensual creatures. Desire trickling down their thighs, out their mouths, in their eyes.

And yet, they were trapped with the few, old men they had, for reasons I was unaware of. And many did approach me in the stony markets of Pulkinoa, asking who I was, from what land did I emerge, and if I could mate with them and give them sons. I could not give myself a son—how could I give these women?

I was offered sex, so much sex. But I took none, because I came to Pulkinoa for modest reasons. Yet, I would not leave modestly.

Zahirah took me to the to castle, that she did. And her plan worked brilliantly. Hence, I did meet King Shahin of Pulkinoa, and was oddly welcomed into the castle like a brother.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: The Dance of the Belly

The king was a man of many wives, of many daughters, maids, mistresses, but without a son.

He wore not the traditional robes of a king, but dressed more exotically. His head was adorned with fine silk, wrapped elegantly around his head. The same fabrics eased on his body, loosely fitting him, the white of the silk contrasting greatly to the shade of his complexion. He was bearded, with the same texture on his thick, bushy brows.

He was an old man, a very old man. I knew not his age, and did not ask him. But he was old, tired, and eerily merry; and a kind warmth he welcomed me, allowed for care of my horse, his maids to bathe me, and an invitation for a wonderful feast late into the night.

It would be tedious to describe in pure the success of Zahirah's plan. For, her description was specific enough, was it not? It worked out according to her plan, to my astonishment. The gualishes were delivered, and after giving in to a roaring stomach, I, too, had tried the fruit and found myself merciless sucking out all the thick, sweet flavor out of it.

Such a delicious, dark delicacy, that no wonder the deku guarding the castle recognized Zahirah and allowed us past the borders. They informed the king, and Zahirah instructed that they inform him of a special visitor. She explained that I had come all the way from Hyrule to visit Pulkinoa, and that I desired to see the king. Perhaps it was my race that interested the man, that he would personally invite me to his chambers while Zahirah was sent away. And the little girl—Victoria-she continued to follow me, repeatedly blinking her eyes in either confusion or astonishment (or both) while holding my hand in a fierce grip.

Getting to the castle was not so important, but rather the king's reaction to me, how he pleasantly perceived me, was more crucial, that simultaneously eased me and brought me great discomfort.

When the richly adorned deku servants came specifically to me and declared that the king wanted to personally meet me, the Hylian, I was very much perplexed. Even Zahirah became dumbfounded, probably impressed that her plan had actually worked and she had very well earned her rupees. That was the last of Zahirah, the beautiful seller of gualishes. She was the only woman I had encountered in Pulkinoa who did not try to seduce me, but rather, hoped to con me.

The deku servants had led me and Victoria through the halls of the castle. The floors shown of a mysterious red stone, my boots gently stepping on the ground, afraid to scuff the lovely furnishing. I recall a specific long hallway we traveled through, the walls filled with various painted portraits of past kings and queens, princes, princess, of families—and then dancers. With veils hiding their mouths and eyes mesmerizing with black paint outlining their lids. With muscle tightened bellies exposed, breasts clad in bras decorated in coins. These were only paintings I saw, and their names were written in unknown symbolism, so I could not read any of what I saw. But, I knew who were the kings, and queens, and their children. I knew because of how they were portrayed, becoming a pattern with each masterpiece I viewed.

Victoria's eyes were big and watery as she gazed longingly at the artwork, her fist brushing against her lips while she absorbed the style of the images. But, I saw no familiarity in her gaze, just more confusion begin to develop. She knew so much, I realized, yet at the same time was more clueless than I was. I decided that despite her charm, I would begin to keep a closer eye on her, for like everyone else in this land, she, too, was a stranger to me.

As the deku dressed in stuffed silk led us through the corridor, I made note of the structure of the castle. It was compromised of several magnificent hallways, each decorated in a specific way. As one was adorned with paintings, another paved the path with jewels, amongst other treasures. The king of Pulkinoa was a very wealthy man, I realized. And as his kingdom was almost colorless, his throne was more vibrant than the sun setting over Hyrule Field, with more shine than the mixture of colors created in the sky before nightfall.

It was s hard to conceive, how the castle could contain so many colors and shades, while the land itself was nothing but various tints of brown. Red and white seemed to be the Pulkinoan king's preferred colors, though I did see occasional bursts of greens and purples. But red and white, those were most dominant. It was a very rich red that I saw, a bloody red.

When the deku had arrived outside the door of the king's chambers, I felt Victoria's grip on my hand tighten. The servants had parted and stood on both sides of the large, wooden door. Even that was polished beautiful, with a golden handle.

"King Shahin shall see you now," professed the shrill voices of both deku in union. The one that stood to the right took hold of the knob, turning it with careful grace as it pulled open the door. Even the squeak of the wood creaking open sounding meticulously dainty, that I momentarily paused before entering, awkwardly looking down at Victoria as if to receive some sort of comfort from her.

The little girl only smiled, however, her lips still stained black from the gualish.

Sighing gently, I shook the hand that held hers before returning my gaze forward, seeing only a black shadow through the entrance.

"Go on, sir," urged one of the deku politely.

And we did; both Victoria and I entered into the king's chamber, and to my surprise it was his bed chamber, as I saw a large bed laced with velvet, within a beautiful capacious room, and finally the man himself, sitting comfortably at his desk with his elbows on the table top, looking intently at his reflection while smoothing out his eyebrows. Once he heard the doors shut, he turned to look at his new guests, and a humble smile outlined his lips.

"Young Hylian," he beamed, rising from the chair to reveal his short stature and weak back, with the silks of his attire draped over the ground. He briefly buried his face in his elbow for a moment, a coarse cough burning past his throat and muffled on his arm. From there, he lifted his eyes. "Welcome!"

Victoria and I stared at the old man oddly.

~oOo~

Even when I insisted he wouldn't, King Shahin continued to pour glass after glass of red wine. I knew he must have seen the redden of my cheeks, the sloppiness of my discord. And even through his thick, dark skin, I saw a crimson tone flush him. But, the dryness of my throat could not resist a good drink.

This was a very welcoming man, as he led me to believe, for the two of us sat at the personal table he had in the southwest corner of his room. It looked like it could have been made out of gold itself—another shade I observed the king to be fond of. We sat across from each other, two bottles of wine in the center. In tall, shapely glasses, he continuously offered me more. And continuously, I accepted. All the while, Victoria sat on the polished floor, her hand grazing over my shield and the sheath of my sword that I had left there.

"You know, Link," began the king, his voice deep and rumbling, a hint of an accent to his speech, "it has been many, many years since I have ever to visit Hyrule." While slickly pouring more wine into his glass, he burst into a brief, but fierce coughing fit, causing him to spill several droplets of wine onto the table.

"Is it still just as colorful as I remember it to be?" He hiccuped amidst that statement, his whole body reacting to it. Blinking several times to regain some sort of composure to myself, I nodded.

"It remains a very beautiful...land," I slurred, rubbing my eyes. "Very, very green. And beautiful."

Shahin chuckled, slurping more wine from his glass. With a wiggle of his mustache, he placed the glass back onto the table, eying me with interest. "You know Pulkinoa, Pulkinoa used to look like Hyrule. Used to be just as beautiful."

I lifted my brows. "Well, what happened to uh, uh Pulkinoa?" I leaned my elbows clumsily on the table.

"All I can say is the greed of my people began to change the land, unfortunately."

Without complete comprehension, I nodded.

"We rarely have visitors here, Link," continued the old man. "I believe you are the, the first from Hyrule. Once I heard that you were a guest to my kingdom, I could not help but invite you for a personal meeting."

For reasons unbeknownst to my rather drunken state, I continued to nod.

"For starters, the women here have trouble giving birth to males. I really don't know why. And, if you haven't noticed already, scare men do occupy this nation. Great arrangements could be made for you if you could mate with our women. Perhaps that Hylian goddess-blessed blood of yours can aide to our current situation here in Pulkinoa."

He continued to babble on in this matter, further pouring himself more wine, drinking it casually while making plans to whore me to his minions. I merely stared at him, lips parted, eyes ceasing to blink, and bewilderment overtaking me.

"Whether your stay be temporary or permanent, I would make sure your time here would be valuable. All of our women here are beautiful, elegant. Nothing like you would see in Hyrule. I could let you choose which ones you would like to mate with, all of them would be eager participants. You would be well fed, taken care of. And even that little girl you carry around with you would be wonderfully tended to."

Some sort of revelation came over me upon seeing the king refocus his gaze on Victoria, and I turned around in my seat to look at the bored girl. Looking back at Shahin, I fumbled my lips.

"What relations do you have with her—" he hiccuped, "might I add?"

I threw my elbows back onto the table, while rubbing at my forehead profusely. "She, well, I found her on my way here, in the Lost Woods. She has lost her memory, and can only recall her name."

Shahin's gaze remained on the child, a strange interest in his expression. "I see. I will make sure to help this child find her family then, once you become more settled in here."

This was where I could finally cut it. Clumsily, I extended my index finger, clenching my throat. "Your Highness, while I do appreciate your generosity...I, well, I am afraid I cannot accept your offer to help breed with your women."

I saw a darkness loom over his face. "Really?"

"Yes, and grateful as I am, I have traveled to Pulkinoa for specific reasons, and was told you have the knowledge that could aid me in my uh...quest."

He leaned back against his seat, his arms resting on his belly. "Quest, you say? This is not a leisure visit?"

"No, your majesty," I concluded. "I was advised by the Gerudo that here in this kingdom resided...fairies."

I could read no emotion in his face. He continued to sit there with his brows stitched together, his eyes focused on the glass that sat before him on the table. Only several droplets of wine grace the inside of it.

"So you traveled all the way to Pulkinoa...in search of fairies?" Here, he raised his gaze, the grey of his eyes with with blankness. Slowly, I nodded.

"It may sound strange...very strange, in fact. And it would be a dreadfully long story to explain. But, please believe me, that I am greatly humbled by your offer, and if I did not have a family to return to I would—"

"A family?"

I paused. "Yes, in Hyrule."

Leisurely, he nodded, motioning for me to continue.

"The point of the matter is, I cannot willfully partake in this arrangement of yours, and I apologize. But I would be immensely grateful if you could let me know where I could find the fairies."

"Fairies," he repeated, still shaking his head in disbelief while his eyes glared at the floor. "Why would you come all the way here for fairies?" Almost direly, he shot his gaze right back to me. "Have you not heard of the Great Deku tree in the Kokiri Forest? That surrounds your Hyrule. Why have you not tried there?"

I fixed my posture so I was not so messily hurling myself on the lovely table of the king. Politely resting my hands on my lap, I sighed. "The Deku Tree passed away over a decade ago due to a terrible curse. Another sprout has yet to spring, and I could not find what I was looking for there."

"So you hope to find it in my kingdom?"

Again, I nodded.

King Shahin sat there for a very long moment—simply thinking. I saw a multitude of varying emotion cross his face, influencing the arch of his eyebrows, the position of his lips, the depth of the creases on his forehead. He sat in that same stance with his palms cradling his stomach, staring forward but lost in his concentration.

I at first noticed confusion, then anger cross over him. It was a controlled, almost unidentifiable anger, but I could read his expression despite his attempts to hide it. Yet, then a sense of an odd sort of understanding came over him, whether it was a good smile that tugged at his mouth or one I should have feared, I didn't know. All I saw was him smirk so suddenly after a sullen moment, and there he brought his eyes to lock with mine.

I felt a chill that moment, one I could not comprehend at the time.

"Alright, Link, I shall tell you where the fairies are and how to arrive there." My eyes widened as he began to speak.

"There does exist a fountain in the depths of Pulkinoa the shelters what legend says are the lost fairies. Since you claim the Deku Tree has perished, then more and more fairies should be venturing to this fountain, harbored by the Great Fairy."

He resumed back to his wine drinking, nonchalantly filling his glass again, leaving a suspenseful pause as he took a lingering sip of the sweet red liquor, before putting the glass down to stare at me gravely. A hint of a smile pulled on his mouth.

"I shall give you the map to get there, but you must promise me you will return here after your feat and bring me a fairy in a bottle."

I did not question his request, though it sounded odd and it eccentrically amused him. I was too excited to look for my lost friend, that I wondered about nothing. The man had me partially drunk, and hopeful, and when he extended his arm so that I would take his hand in agreement, I did so immediately, holding his palm tightly while we shook.

"Now, I hope you will stay for our midnight feast, and for a special ceremonial dance performed by our greatest dancers before you leave."

~oOo~

Though I had refused his offer of sleeping with the women of his land, King Shahin treated me as if I were of royalty.

His maids were beautiful, and if I hadn't known they were maids, I would have mistaken them for his mistresses. They wore sheer veils over their mouths, hair long and braided. Their attire of crafted of crimson silk, the bellies strong and waists small, with beautifully tinted skin and big, almond eyes.

I was bathed by these maids, being taken into a bath chamber in the castle, which was a beautiful, shimmering fountain with water the color of a morning sky. I felt their slender fingers rinse over my chest, my hair, while others cleaned and stitched my clothing.

I was embarrassed, quite a bit, being tended by these women who stared at my body with lustrous eyes, devouring my form and licking their lips in their desire to take me. As the Gerudo had grown to hate all and everything Hylian, the Pulkinoans found no prejudice with my race. I was male, and I was young, fertile. And this appeared to be a sexually suffraged hybrid of women.

It was an odd experience, and most of the time the idea of finding Navi relentlessly replayed itself in my mind. The king had shown me the map, had given it to me to keep as a belonging. And a jar, so that I could bring back to him a fairy.

He took well care of me, his guest. Even the king of Hyrule would not be so welcoming.

I had gone from smelling like the forest to emitting a strong, fragrant scent splashed on me by the maids. And when Victoria was returned to me, I noticed that her hair was combed and parted neatly to the side, her dress cleaned, and even her eyes outlined with a thick, black paint. She ran to me with a strong, merry vehemence, taking my hand and breathing in the smell that leaked from my body.

The midnight feast was, in fact, a late night dinner for the royal family. All the kings daughters and wives attended, surrounding the large rectangular table of the massive dining hall. The maids and deku servants served us, and Victoria and I were treated as special guests that night.

Unlike the blackened fruit sold at the markets, the table was filled with colorful choices, of meats, berries, and crisp greens. It filled my belly mightily, easing the pangs of hunger that had been hurling at my stomach, stopping my abdomen from continually contracting inwards. Victoria sat next to me, licking her fingers continuously as her teeth ripped apart meat from cooked animal thighs.

I conversed little with the royal family. And never was my quest mentioned or brought up by the king. I was an ever apparent mystery to the women that surrounded me, and politely they kept it that way.

"Have you ever seen a dance of the belly?"

That was one of very few questions King Shahin asked me at the dining table, and all looked peculiarly at me, awaiting my response.

The phrase sounded foreign to me, as every type of dance I had ever seen in Hyrule involved no belly interaction, but stiff and rigid legs and graceful steps.

"No, your majesty. I have not."

The man grinned a very clever, knowing smile. "You shall greatly be surprised, then."

~oOo~

The dance of the belly was more than simply a dance involving the belly. At first, I couldn't really fathom such an idea, the notion of how much flexibility an abdomen possessed. Yet, the art form involved much more than focus on that specific body part. It also revolved around the movement of the arms, and the trembling of the hips.

I fell in love with the dance of the belly.

King Shahin had a special chamber for this practice. It was candle lit, dim. All bodies formed a half circle, and beyond that lingered a beautiful, flimsy curtain, where the silhouettes of the dancers could be seen.

In this room, like the other rooms, the floor was composed of a elegant, polished red stone. Silks hung from the walls, glowing gently in the candle light. All voices were hushed as they awaited the dance, as Shahin had directed me to sit right next to him, exactly in the center, which Victoria rested herself on my left shoulder.

"In Hyrule, this would be a shameful practice, I will tell you that," he mumbled, a cough heaving his mouth at his finishing word. "But, I hope you can see the true nature of it, and why it is only practiced in Pulkinoa."

Nabooru had slightly informed me of this dance, I recalled.

Yet, that was all the gracious king could say to me, as before us in this spacious room, a neat line of deku emerged from the curtain, carrying varying instruments while they neatly aligned themselves alone the semi-circle, resting on their wooden bums. I saw flutes, trumpets, drums—all kinds of possible musical creations.

This was when the space became absolutely silent, and not even the smallest of breath could be heard.

The first noise to break the silence was the summoning of the trumpet, as well as the rapid bombarding of the drum by the deku.

From the curtain emerged two female deku, a scarf of coins adorned over their waists. They were short, cute, almost childlike. Pink flowers adorned the leaves of their heads. They came to the center of the circle and began to shake their waists, causing a rhythmic sound of the golden coins clashing to surge from the scarves they wore.

Here, the tempo of the song began to quicken, and so did the speed of the deku dancers. The music reminded me of my visit in Termina, within the palace of the deku—the song they played was very quick, with a ringing melody. I found myself delighted by the music and the show put on before me.

Yet, after a while of this playful banter, there was a subtle change in the rhythm of the music—the instruments began to gradually lower its tempo, while the drums became louder and slicker. Mightily, the deku pounded their hands to create loud, thumping beats, and the style of the dance began to change.

When the full transition of the song became apparent, several Pulkinoan women ran out of the curtain, and a fierce applause sprang from our crowd. My eyes were blinded by bright, colorful cloths the girls held, as they swung them with a very quick grace.

I counted five women, and two deku, and while the creatures continued their simple dance, the women used the extent of their bodies to move swiftly to the beat of the songs. The coins of their skirts jingled in perfect synch, all the while they tossed their silken veils with ease, creating a ravishing, colorful sight of mingling sheets.

Their costumes consisted of long skirts, all a deep red, with matching brassier tops that also dangled golden coins. Their hips guided their every movement, bodies moving according to the beat given to them. I could see the music through their bodies, and many times I did forget of the little deku playing the instruments, believing that these bodies were creating the noise.

Their skirts swayed as they traveled, veils dancing, coins clamoring to create a unique beat of their own. This was like nothing I had seen before. I became dreadfully lost in this performance, my eyes almost ceasing to blink as I gazed with my entire attention focused on this dance of the belly.

And just when the dance reached its absolute peak of excitement, leaving me craving more, the music ceased—abruptly, with no warning. And there, the dancers fell to the ground, laying on their backs motionless.

No one clapped, but instead an even stronger silence captured them. A moment passed, and then another. Still nothing occurred. I could feel the suspense that took over the room, for it began to tingle at my skin, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I wanted to know what was happening, what everyone was waiting for.

It began with the deku in the center playing a flute.

This was not the same, rushed sound as it had been only minutes ago. No, this was a smooth noise, played slowly and erotically. The deku's fingering was dangerously precise, swaying over the notes with a mesmerizing, exotic grace.

Then the drums—gentle at first, but then evolving into a distinct beat: slow, yet strong, causing a vibration to the ground and an echo to travel the room.

From the curtain, a leg peeked out.

I may not have looked under many women's skirts, but I could very well confess that this was the most beautiful leg I had ever seen. I professed that I would not be taken by lust in Pulkinoa, but at the mere sight of this woman's leg—the fullness of her thigh, the shapeliness to her to shin and the high arch of her foot—I found myself desperately transfixed.

She emerged with nothing but her body—there was no magnificent veil, or coins attached to her clothing. All that flowed from her was the length of her skirt, the flowing of her hair. Unlike the other dancers, her costume sparkling a dark blue, reminding me of the waters of Lake Hylia under the watchfulness of the moon.

Her entrance was so significant, that I several gasps escaped the mouths of the watchers, but I remained silent, utterly so, while my face became stiff and concentrated, gazing at the sight of the dancer of the belly.

Tall, lean, and shimmering—hair blacker than the absence of the sun and moon, flowing down her back with perfect poise. There was a dramatic curve that separated and distinguished her belly from her shoulders and hips. Her body was an hourglass, slowly pouring the sands of her beauty.

Her arms were stiff, with bent elbows and palms erect and situated by her hips. As the drums began again, she bent her knees, and with each beat she contracted her hips, flinging them to the left, right, center, and back. As the pace quickened, so did her movements, yet they remained very precise, as if she was not attached to her body, that her bones and muscles were disconnecting as she performed these movements.

And soon the drum became a constant, swift tapping, and with a straight back the dancer followed this rhythm, her hips rumbling unrealistically, that I believed I were witnessing an allusion of the body. This is where the applause sounded, merry laughter echoing throughout the chamber.

A smile crossed this dancer's face, and the true extent of her talent was known.

She moved her arms in a beautiful, repeating pattern, with the deadly elegance of a snake, simultaneously rumbling her hips, creating a tremble of her entire body. Her hips rumbled, her belly shaking so speedily my eyes could not allow my mind to comprehend the movement. She switched from the fast trembling to the concentrated contraction and lifts of her hips. She would press her palms over her head, sliding her necks side to side, while executing these sharp movements.

Yet, she began to move the muscles of her abdomen according to the beat of the drums, and this was mind blowing. My eyes could not leave the naked part of her body, as she moved the muscles there as if it were her arms, the skin over her stomach swaying, then trembling, twitching, and contracting. I completely forgot about the drums—it was her body making the noise, for everything that was played, her body mimicked with an absolute perfection.

Shamefully, I became a man enraged by lust in that moment, as I watched this woman dance, move her body in such an unfathomable way. And King Shahin could see it in me, I knew he could—for I felt him glance at me as the Pulkinoan performed her solo dance, a hint of a smirk gracing his lips. I suspected he had planned this, for me to watch this sensual dance, most notably the beautiful dancer.

And she caught sight of me—I knew she did. She performed a traveling step, conducted so that her hips would swing and continue their sharp bumps. With this step, she came to me, moving past the musicians and motionless dancers, and interested applause and claps came from the circle as she approached me, standing so close to me that I could feel the breeze from her skirts as she shimmed her legs to make her body tremble again.

This forced my eyes to travel her form, going past the outline of her legs, to the inward curve of her waist, the swells of her cupped breasts, and residing in her face. She was beautiful, just like all the Pulkinoan women. But I saw something different in her, and at the time I couldn't decipher it as good or bad. There was something about the curve of her smile, the way she looked at me as the grey of her irises shone so vibrantly.

Turning so I viewed her from the side, the dancer began to perform a backbend, and to the approval of the crowd, began to lower herself onto the floor. She lied with her shins bent on the ground, legs parted and back curved with her head nestled in her palms. And just when I believed she could impress me no more, on the floor she made herself tremble again, her hips moving with incredible speed, now her rhythm taken from the clapping of her observers, as the drums finally ceased.

The dance of the belly was finished.

All the dancers stood, and took a graceful bow, and as everyone saw this as the chance to mingle, I found myself unable to stop staring at the soloist, my eyes following her as she walked away, even while the rest stood and Victoria pulled my arm to urge me to rise as well. I watched this woman, strangely taken in by her. All the while my heart pounded with disapproval, pleading that I not succumb to my desire to speak to her.

But with her dance, she unleashed some sort of magic upon me. And it was inevitable when our eyes locked from across the room that I went to her, holding Victoria's hand while I brought us to the mysterious woman.

CHAPTER NINETEEN: The Offer

She was met by no one, but lingered in her exoticism alone.

A gem outshining the flames of candlelight, I was drawn to her, mesmerized by her dance. Every other thought and longing had fled me, momentarily transfixed with the Pulkinoan beauty.

Our eyes never separated, and a clever smile plastered itself on her mouth. Her lips were plump and crimson, her eyes large and shapely, staring at me with heaping provocativeness. With perfect posture, she stood awaiting me, her chest lifted powerfully, hair falling in front of her shoulders, stomach swaying with each breath she took.

The commotion of the other dancers and royal members became a faint background clutter, and even my grip on Victoria's hand had become loose, almost forgetting about the mysterious child.

I became only aware of the dancer, forgetting of all my surroundings, and our introduction was brief, short, contrived.

"I really enjoyed your performance. There is nothing like it where I am from."

It was my introduction to her; there was no formal greeting, acknowledgment. And she seemed to be pleased by it, extending her hand to me. Nervously, I looked at her fingers, noticing the brown tint of her skin, the length of her sculpted nails. Even her palms were beautiful and soft, and at last I took her hand gently, lightly pressing my lips against her knuckles, feeling my face flush and cheeks burn crimson.

"Thank you," she replied, revealing her low toned, erotically feminine voice. Pinching the fabric of her skirt, she curtsied daintily before me, her sly smirk never leaving her, as well as the silver glistening in her eyes. "Your name?"

"Um, Link," I retorted, my finger tugging at the collar of my shirt. I saw her eyes shoot downwards.

"And the girl?"

For a short moment I did not know who she was referring to, until the memory of Victoria flooded my mind, to which I hastily looked down at the girl, who stared at the dancer with blinking eyes and lips pressed in a straight line.

"This is Victoria," I lightly introduced, returning my gaze back to the woman who almost reached my height. "And may I ask what your name is?"

She raised her black brows at this inquiry, her elbow bending elegantly so her had could cup her hip. "Adara."

Her tongue curled at the pronunciation of her name, rolling the 'r' erotically.

Gulping, I unknowingly tightened my grip on Victoria's hand, resulting in a bothered grunt from the child. "Do you only dance at the castle, then...Adara?"

She had an interesting laugh, coming out in the form of an amused chuckle. I then saw her eyes narrow into fluttering silver slits, her gaze shifting diagonally between the girl and me.

"I am a dancer for King Shahin, yes," she clarified, casually reaching her palm to caress my shoulder. As I glanced at her gesture at me, my brows slanted sheepishly, while my sight returned to her face.

"But, I am also a magician."

"Magician?" It was not me, but Victoria who repeated the word, thus allowing Victoria to grin with interest at the girl, bending her knees to kneel down to her level, arms folded over her chest.

"Yes, dear one," she clarified, reaching her fingers to poke at the girl's button nose, while Victoria blinked in response. "Magical practices are a very underground art in Pulkinoa. I have perfected it." I saw Adara's eyes shoot up towards me, while she slithered her way back up to stand next to me, moving with the cautious grace of a snake.

"Where are you from, Link?"

"Hyrule."

Rubbing at her forehead briefly, Adara tilted her head. "Ah yes, a very large kingdom, I have heard. I believe you are the first Hylian I have ever seen. Your race does practice a type of magic, does it not?"

I paused for a moment before answering. "Well, the royal family does, but commoners are not born with the capability—"

"Don't speak folly, of course you are. Everyone is," Adara cut me off, bringing her body closer to me as she clenched her hands onto my shoulders, leaning her forehead so it almost touched mine.

"The royal family teaches their offspring the art of magic. Not one is born with the power, it is acquired, as a dancer is taught execution of movement."

Her breath was a hot mist over my face, and her body smelled like something indescribable, a scent so alluring that it would be illegal in Hyrule. Taking a concentration breath, I exhaled as I took a firm hold of Adara's arms, my brows furrowing as I separated her from me, feeling the tug from Victoria at the hem of my tunic.

"Where do you get this power from? Is it divine?" I pondered.

Victoria kept pulling at my tunic. "Mr. Link—"

"It depends what kind of magic one is trying to conjure."

"Mr. Link, can we—"

"What kind are you most familiar with?"

"Mr. Link!"

Victoria had screeched loud enough that both Adara and I turned our necks to look at her, her palms pressed together as if in prayer, the blue in her eyes glittering hypnotically.

"Can we see the magic?" she asked, pouting her bottom lip. "Please?" She further exaggerated the pout, showing the inside flesh of her skin, blue veins encrusted within.

My lips formed into a frown, not one of anguish or anger, but rather of unease. Slowly I raised my gaze and looked at Adara questioningly, shrugging my shoulders at her, unknowing of how to correctly reply. But the woman smiled, lowering the lids of her eyes, leaning her back forwards that she could pet the hair of Victoria.

"Of course, dear. If it is alright with your guardian, that is." Then both females looked at me.

"I can take you to my fortress," she continued. "It would delight me if you could sacrifice some of your time. I promise you will not regret it."

There was a distinct seductive tone in her voice, though she spoke nothing of seduction, showing no signs of the motive. It would seem to anyone else that she wanted to fulfill the child's wishes and present her craft. Yet, I saw something else in her eyes—the same sexual hunger that delved in the postures of every other Pulkinoan I encountered. Though hers was more discreet, it was still present.

And with a cringe, I reluctantly agreed to leave the castle with the dancer, and the king made no objections, freely allowed me to leave with my horse and belongings, as well as making promises to aide in finding the little girl's family.

"Do not forget to bring me back a fairy," he told me whimsically. It was the last time I saw him smile.

~oOo~

If I had not met Adara, I believe the outcome of my adventure would have been much, much different.

To the king, it was his final attempt to convince me to mate with his women, and perhaps it was why he was so insistent that I watched the dance of the belly, for Adara was more tempting than the others. Even as she walked, her hips moved with precise isolation, as if she were still dancing, taunting me with her voluptuous frame.

I was a man with a wife, and children, of good moral stature—I promise I was. And though I loved another, was infatuated with her lack of existence, I accepted that I could not have her, and by the divinity of the goddesses, my body was pledged to Malon. She was still my wife, and I her husband; and despite what I saw as a temporary departure, I was still connected to her, bound by a holy union, forever tied by the existence of our children. No matter where I went or how I felt, I still belonged to her.

My intentions towards Adara were not immoral. I did not leave to her fortress with the purpose of committing a shameful act. Her talk of magic roused an interest in me, and even Victoria was eager to see what the woman spoke of.

But I would be lying if I said she did not rouse a very strong attraction within, that lust filled my bones in her presence. I wanted nothing of her romantically, but her body and underlying poise stirred desire, one I could not ignore, but fought relentlessly. Battling the responses of my body, the longing in my eyes.

Legends do not speak of the Hero as a man, and this would taint the reputation; that I was guilty lustful of another woman, one whom I knew nothing of, who seemed almost as dangerous as she did helpful. Yet, she cast something fierce upon me, luring me with her charm, controlling me with her powers of woman over a man.

Adara walked with me along the horse, blue silk draping her body as we traversed along the darkness of the night. Soundly, Victoria sat on Epona's saddle, holding the reigns pretending to be leading the horse, though I was the one directing it.

Occasionally, I would feel Adara's arm smooth against me, and she would move along, making no mention of it. The woman was very sly, tricky. I knew not what to expect from her—though, I did partially. I knew very well, actually. But I ignored the prediction, advancing straight to her blindly, as if secretly wanting the trouble she would bring.

I had been in Pulkinoa for only a day, and already I had accomplished much. I had met the king and learned where to find the fairy fountain. Yet, I also seemed to create a distraction for myself, now following this dancer, this foreign beauty.

It was late into the night, and the streets of Pulkinoa were dangerously silent. There existed no hum of crickets, nor breath of the wind. Stillness tapped at my body, the moon shining bleakly over a deep blue sky. I noticed more color in Pulkinoa at night than during the daylight, as the moon camouflaged all the brown hues, but the darkness still succumbed.

Everything was happening so quickly for me, so many revelations and bouts of luck, but this moment was slow, it occurred gradually. From our walk to her fortress, to the events that transpired there after. It was the part of my adventure that I recall the most, for she made several grand offers to me that night, among one I could not especially refuse.

"Are you always this trusting of strange women?"

I had been so lost in my thoughts, the gentle echo of her low voice somewhat startled me. Yet, while Epona advanced slowly, I turned briefly to look at Adara. "Excuse me?"

Her skin was a chocolate brown in the moonlight, her lips almost a pure black, the silver in her eyes beaming at me as she smiled. She kept the veil wrapped around her, over the top of her head as well, though several locks of her thick hair peaked out, the ends curling with a playful bounce.

"I said, do you always trust strange women?"

Narrowing my eyes, I raised an intrigued brow at her. "I didn't realize you were strange."

"Well, in my own standards, I am not. But to you, I would assume I am very, very strange."

Watching her look straight forward quite leisurely, I pressed the issue further. "Why would you assume such a thing? Because of your race, your profession? Because the women I am accustomed to are not like you?"

Refusing to glance back at me, Adara chuckled, shaking her head with amusement as she held the veil tighter. "On any other occasion I would be offended, Hylian. My profession? As a dancer, you mean? I see nothing absurd about that. And apparently you don't either."

Now she looked at me, her eyes large and glistening. "Do you?"

"N-no," I replied, clearing the dry, itchy lump in my throat, throwing my head down as I sucked in my cheeks. "Not absurd at all. In fact, it was very…beautiful."

"How so?"

Timidly, I raised my gaze to meet her eyes. With a grin, she continued. "Every woman in Pulkinoa exposes herself. What interested you so much about my dance?"

She was feigning innocence, and even her expression was crafted with absolute naivety. She blinked with a seemingly sincere curiosity, fluttering her full, black lashes. I blushed at her gesture, feeling my cheeks burn with the fierce shade of crimson they turned.

"Well, I—"

"Oh, turn left here, Link."

Biting down on my lower lip, I carefully tugged Epona's reigns, changing our direction of travel. I hoped that this had ended the rather awkward conversation, and for a long moment silence had overcome us. But Adara seemed to be too interested to leave her question to die.

"Have you thought about your answer?"

I didn't even bother to look at her, unable to speak while my heart trembled uneasily against my chest. "You had quite a remarkable…control of your body."

"Interesting," she spoke, and then stopped walking. At her halt, I scratched at my hat, ceasing movement as well, throwing her a strange glance.

She simply smirked however, a dimple creasing at her cheek. "That is what every man says to me, the few who've I encountered." At my bewilderment, she motioned forward with her head. "We're here."

I turned around abruptly, and saw there a humbly built building made of tossled stone. It was large, at least two stories, but unlike the extravagance of the castle from hence she performed, it looked like the ruins of such a place. The stone was cracked in various areas, sheer sheets dangling from openings for windows. It did not seem like a safe place for a woman like her to reside—then again, she lived in a land with very little men.

Once Epona was situated, I reached to lift Victoria off of her saddle, but I noticed her drooping head, hunched back, and smooth rise and falls of her chest from her deep breathing. Shifting my lips, I placed my fingers underneath her chin, lifting her head, and I noticed her eyes were closed, while breath whistled through her agape mouth.

"She fell asleep," I mused aloud, not to anyone in particular. But Adara heard me, and from behind I felt her palm mold onto my shoulder, her slender fingers squeezing over me. An eccentric sensation trickled down my spine, raising the hairs at the nape of my neck, forcing me to contract inward the muscles of my abdomen.

"That's alright," she whispered to me. "Bring her inside. She can rest while I show you my other profession."

She spoke of her magic, but there was another hidden meaning behind her teasing tone. Victoria had actually been my means of protection from the dancer. And now that she had fallen asleep, there was no limit for Adara. She could act as she pleased.

A groan stayed trapped in my throat, vibrating unenthusiastically as I lifted Victoria off the horse, cradling her in my arms as I had done for Angmar and Cedany once upon a time. By reflex, the child nestled herself against me, curling over my farm, as would an infant due to her mother, her fist resting near her chin. I could hear her light breathing, so soft that it was almost inaudible. The breath left her mouth delicately, while she smacked her lips several times.

I felt a longing for my daughters as I held her, yet, I also was comforted by the unknown child. Something about her made me feel complete, almost forgetting at times that I did leave my family, almost becoming a daughter to me, even in the short time I knew her. She could fill the emptiness in me while I was in Pulkinoa, as I needed her just as much as she needed me—this lost, memory-ridden girl. Once I left to find the Great Fairy, she would stay here and the king would help her find her family, and for the remainder of my journey, I would be alone again.

At this revelation, I held her tighter.

"Are you coming?"

Lifting my gaze, I saw Adara standing towards the entrance, beginning to undo the wrap of her veil over her body. Without acknowledging her comment, I moved forward to her, being careful not to wake Victoria. A large, wooden door kept us from entering. It was unfinished without a proper polish or luster. Reaching to her chest, Adara delved her fingers inside the left cup of her brassier top, her hand sparkling with the blue glitter of her costume as she pulled out a rusted, yellow key. I watched her perform this with interest, shoving the miniature object in the lock near the door knob, jingling it for a moment with an eerily too precise manner, before successfully turning the knob and opening the door.

It didn't creak as I expected it to, yet instead it opened with complete silence, and very smoothly. Adara held open the door for me, lifting her brows approvingly, allowing me inside. I did not enter complete darkness, but a room lit with candles. The cradles were built into the stone walls, candle flames burning delicately in the emptiness.

Was this how the woman truly lived? Leaving candles burning all day knowing she would not return till nightfall? I felt sorry for her, slightly pitied her as she seemed so beautiful and exotic, yet lived shabbily, not with the grace of a lovely performer of the royalty.

When I heard the door close, I turned my neck to see Adara removing the veil from her body, throwing it messily amongst the other assortment of cloth and silks she had lying around the otherwise plain room.

"I would think the king would have you living at the castle," I thought aloud, continuing to observantly scan her residence. At my remark, however, she scoffed, marching in front of me while her palms smoothed over the wrinkles in her skirt.

"I am his dancer, not one of his whores," she whispered, going to the wall and lifting a cradle from the nail it hung on the wall. "The goddesses know he has plenty of those."

As she held the cradle, the flame of the candle highlighted her face, swimming over her glowing eyes. I could not interpret her stance as threatening or not harmful, but she was beautiful nonetheless.

"Follow me." She motioned with her arm to lead me onward, turning her body around. "We can put the girl to rest here."

I advanced in the light of the flame, over to a small, soft cushion Adara kept across the room. I saw no bed, nor pillows or sheets. Just this body cushion, red in color, like cotton to touch. It was oval shaped, and fit the form of Victoria as I placed her body down to rest on it. I watched with amusement as she adjusted herself to become comfortable on the fabric, opening her arms over her head, lifting her chin and extending her legs. And an instant later, a purple veil draped over her body, mingling in the air with elegance for a moment, before the silken sheet landed gently on the child, molding to her shape.

"Poor thing," murmured Adara, looking away from Victoria as she picked up the cradle once more. Though her head faced downward, she lifted her eyes at me. "Now she cannot see my magic."

The scent of fire and roses that emitted from the candle warmed and tingled my nostrils, and with concentration I breathed in, trying not to be enticed by Adara's taunts. But she made acted naturally of it, leading me away once more, to the stairway behind the back corner.

There was a dramatic sway of her hips as she climbed. With each step, her thigh mimicked a bump from her dance, her pelvis tucked yet her derriere protruding generously. It was not a short distance, but Adara moved very slowly, and I could image her moving to the rhythm of the drum the deku played as well as the smooth hymn of the flute.

I heard the tap of our steps on the stone, traversing through the very narrow flight. And when we reached the final step, I noticed we were greeted by three possible rooms along another narrow hallway. Adara made no hesitation to walk to the door at the very left, reaching for my hand as she grappled me and pulled me along.

Before she opened the door, the Pulkinoan took me by surprise by suddenly turning herself to face me, pressing her back against the door and holding the cradle of fire between our faces, so that she could see my eyes as perfectly as I could see hers.

My breath quickening, I didn't know how to respond to her gesture, for she chose not to smile at me. Her expression turned very sincere and deadly solemn. I noticed her brows curve stiffly over her eyes, her nostrils flaring gently, her lifts pressed securely.

"Do you fear me?" she whispered, the sound continuing to hover over her lips even after she had spoken it, flowing direly over my ears.

She spoke without satisfaction, or hope that her assumption were true, but with dignity I stared directly at her, my heart beating wildly, pounding harshly against my body, warning me of possible danger even as I answered, "No."

The silence of the atmosphere contributed to the discomfort I experienced, as even the tender roar of the little flame was louder than our voices. Upon hearing my response, she nodded slowly, the crimson painted on her lips beginning to smear as she further pursed her mouth.

"I know you do," she confessed. "So come inside and let me gain your trust."

~oOo~

The blue and red of the flame danced together in an exotic glide, holding each other in an embrace, my eyes filled with the sensuality of the colors.

Adara had been mingling through her books for several long minutes, leaving me to sit on the cold stone floor, relieving my back of my armor, leaving me with nothing to gander at but the light of the cradle that lingered in front of me.

Yet, the flame extinguished from the short gust that came as a thick, hard cover book dropped near it, unable to save itself before the light died. Adara had used the same flame beforehand to burn the wax of other candles in the room, yet I had been temporarily transfixed with this particular one. Now all I stared at was this book, as well as the flowing form of Adara and she lowered herself down to me.

"Why have you come to Pulkinoa, Link?"

Before she had even completely situated her behind on the ground, her lips began moving to spit inquiries at me. I only stared at her oddly for a second before I could even answer.

"If I told you all of my reasoning, you would not believe me. If I spoke briefly, you would find it funny."

"So your story is funny and unbelievable?" Amused, she crossed her legs in a difficult position, one shin over the other. "It sounds entertaining to me. How about you just try me."

Biting the corner of my lip, I scratched at my cheek, my eyes glaring downwards. "I would rather not—"

"Could you start with the girl?"

I found myself rolling my eyes. "You don't know how many times I have had to explain that situation."

"Well, it is a very peculiar one. I mean, you—a Hylian—traveling with a Pulkinoan child. It seems quite strange. Is she your—"

"No, she is not my daughter."

Her thumb brushing her chin, Adara undid the awkward position of her legs and bent her knee, allowing her elbow to rest there. "Oh, really?"

"Yes. I found her in the Lost Woods before I came to Pulkinoa. She can't find her family and has little memory." I sat with the heels of my boots pressed together, staring at the liquidly, melted wax when the flame had been alive and dancing only seconds ago.

"Well, you cannot blame me for assuming. I mean, her father could very well be Hylian. You both share the same eyes, and her name is not native to Pulkinoa."

"That is only coincidence. She is not my daughter. I have daughters."

This sparked her interest. Hugging her knees to her chest, her breasts perked against each other, while she leaned her torso forward. "Daughters?"

"Yes, two of them."

"And a wife?"

"Yes. And a wife."

I spoke this all matter-of-factly, but this must have sounded like a strange revelation to Adara. "Why, you left your family in Hyrule to come to Pulkinoa, and mingle with a provocative dancer as myself? Surely something magnificent must have brought you here."

I could hear the fabric of her skirt scuffling along the floor as she scooted closer to me, to where her shoulder touched mine. Wearily, I lifted my gaze, turning my neck to look of her, unease overcoming me. But, Adara smiled, not sneakily, but honestly, while strands of black hair fell in front of her face, a shimmer in her eyes.

"Have you heard of Gerudo Valley?"

She was not startled by my question. "Of course I have. The women are a hybrid of us. According to texts I have studied of legend, many thousand years ago there was only one dark skinned species. Then the Goddess of the Sand divided us, creating specific circumstances for each race."

I tilted my head at this, taking off my hat to scratch at my scalp. "So, with the Gerudo, only one man is born every one hundred years. And what is the structure for the Pulkinoans?"

An odd unease came over her, her arms hugging at her chest. "There is no structure. I have heard there used to be many men here. Now they are born seldom. A woman is considered a saint if she gives birth to a male in these days. The king keeps many scrolls to himself. He has been king a very long time, since before I was born."

After another silence, Adara spoke again. "Now, why have you mentioned the Gerudo? Did they advise you to come here?"

"It is very complicated," I explained. "I have been experiencing dreams of late, at first leading me to the Gerudo. For many years I've been in search of a lost friend, and the queen informed me I might find her here."

The corner of Adara's mouth curled upward. "What a silly idea. Unless she is Pulkinoan, or a deku, you are wasting your time here."

"She is neither."

My voice was delicate as I uttered, and the tone startled Adara, as she turned to look at me with narrowed eyes. I felt her palm take my shoulder. Turning my neck, I glared into her face, my mouth moving before I even spoke.

"She is a fairy."

Adara's lips struggled as she tried to figure out whether to smile or frown. "A fairy?"

"It may sound childish, I know it does." Clasping my palms together, I released my legs, so one remained bent while the other extended. "And for me to explain it in a comprehensible manner, I would have to relinquish all the details of my past, which I have done to no one before. Only my friend knows and has been through all my trials. I lost her as a child, and now I know the goddesses are leading me to her."

"Din, Nayru, and Farore," she breathed, looking at the ground nodding comprehensively. "Yes, the Hylian goddesses. I sometimes pray to them, though King Shahin prefers we pay our respects only to him."

Her hair trickled over my cheek as she turned to look at me once more. "The goddesses appear to you then?"

"For several nights they have. And here I've found myself, traveling blindly and allowing them to lead. Your king informed me of where I could find the fairies in Pulkinoa, so I intend to make my departure from here by daybreak."

Adara nodded along. "Sounds like an interesting journey. What does your wife think about all of this?"

Her tone suggested she was not so interested of the details of my quest anymore, but about the woman who I left behind. I sensed a bit of sarcasm in her voice, the bit of understanding that came from her leaving just then.

I chose not to look at her, but straight at the wall. She purposely breathed down my neck, the air coming from her nose very warm. Fumbling with the hat in my hands, I cleared my throat. "Obviously, she is not very appreciative of my departure. But I do not answer to her. Besides, she and I have grown quite…" I paused, looking down at the mangled hate. "Distant."

Though I stared not at her, I knew Adara smiled. "You have stopped loving her."

I somehow seemed to forget that I was confessing to a woman who I wasn't sure I could actually trust. In fact, I began to conceive her as more of a building threat to my journey. But goddesses—to be given the chance to spill a secret that had taken over me for twelve years—I couldn't refuse it.

I spoke no more to Adara, but to the room, whoever would listen, wishing that the goddesses could lend their ears and hear me speak my pleas. I dropped the hat, allowing it to lay messily on the ground, and turning to Adara, I saw her stiffen at my sudden passionate state, while my eyes grimaced and breath quickened dramatically.

"It is not even that," I groaned, smacking my palm at my forehead, rubbing to relieve the pain that pulsed through my skin. "I do not want to sound like this terrible, heartless man. Because I am not, I swear I am not. And as I always did keep a special sort of love and endearment for my wife, I never was in love with her. I took her because the one I wanted does not exist here. She is real somewhere else, but only a memory for me now."

Adara was suddenly taken by my words, moving all strands of hair away from her face by tucking them behind her curved ears, so she could better hear me. Curiosity burned in her eyes, pleading to hear more of the story I kept hidden for so long.

"You love another," she tried to clarify, lifting both her arms to expressively move her hands while the words left her mouth meticulously, "who does not…exist?"

I retorted by remaining silent, and Adara stared at the floor, confusion lurking in her face. "Did she—did she die?"

Tenderly, I shook my head, closing my eyes as the actuality of the situation I spoke of burned through my soul. "No, no. She is not dead. She is just not of this world."

"You mean Hyrule, or—"

"Anywhere I can travel to in this universe." Without knowing it, I brought my face closer to her, raising my hands to take her shoulders, but only letting them linger midair, my fingers curled and stiff as if I held her.

"She is in Hyrule. But not the one that exists now. In another time, another future. Where the world we inhabit has developed much differently."

Adara blinked repeatedly, gently taking my wrists to lower my arms. "You mean, some sort of time paradox?"

"Like a split in time itself," I whispered, trembling as the phrase left my mouth and traveled through another person's ears for the first time in my life. "Where there exists a parallel world that due to an interference in time, has undergone different events under different circumstances."

But Adara was shaking her head now, chuckling in disbelief, moving her fingers through her hair nervously. "But that's preposterous. And I am a practitioner of magic, I would normally be convinced of such extreme matters. What could possibly have caused a split in time? Who would be responsible?"

I merely looked at her, and saw her shoulders loosen, her lips squirming uneasily, while she apparently predicted my answer. "You," she breathed, squinting her eyes to gawk at me with a weird fascination. "You caused it?"

"It was a long time ago, and such a long story I couldn't explain. But, it is real, very real."

"Alright," she began, extending her palms while taking a breath to collect her thoughts, "so if this woman you crave is from another time, wouldn't another version of her also exist here?"

She caught on quickly to the story, yet I shook my head at her logic. "She has become a different person in this world. She is not the one I want. I cared for her here, but I saw the circumstances avoided in the other time allowed her to develop differently, thus creating new circumstances here."

"How shallow of you, Link. Certainly you should love a woman for her soul, not by what circumstances have created her to be—"

"No, no," I countered, now actually taking her shoulders and forcing her to listen to me. Her deltoids contacted in my hold, while our gazes locked securely, our breaths mixing into one mist. "You don't understand. She is not the same. They are two different people. She is not the one who constantly torments my mind, reminding me I can never have her."

At the halt of my discord, my mouth was left agape with desperate, hasty breaths fleeing past my lips. I could feel the tension rise between us, heightening all of my senses—the skin of her shoulders warming my fingers, the smell of her body inflaming my lungs, my eyes consumed by the image of her face, the sturdiness of her mouth.

"How you do you deal with these...conflicting feelings for your wife, and this woman?" Adara spoke carefully, raising the arch of her brow. She dilatorily began to inch her face closer to mine, softening her mouth.

"They are more like conflicting thoughts," I muttered, small particles of sweat beginning to glisten on my forehead. "I am simultaneously guilted by my duty to my wife as well as the undying infatuation with the one I can never have."

My hands moved away from her shoulders, trailing down the flesh of her arms, where I tried to let go of her, but found myself unable to. Adara reached her hand to cup her palm over the knuckles of my right hand, her thumbs smoothing tenderly against my skin.

"Do you not ever consider diversions for your troubles?" Her hand traveled up my forearm, fingertips trickling over the fabrics of my shirt and tunic. And though she touched no skin, I could feel her caress, simultaneously easing and corrupting me.

"...Distractions?"

I did not respond, but heaved a breath through my nostrils while her palms furthered up my body, touching flesh as she snuck her fingers inside the collar of my shirt, lingering there for only a moment before pulling out and tracing the shape of my jaw, trickling over my cheek. She didn't smile, and when she leaned forwards and I felt her lips brush against my mouth, I didn't resist her.

I was man, and she was woman—this was the pattern of thought I followed during my years with Malon, and that was what sex became to me, an act of instinct, of genders joining.

Her mouth tasted like the gualish I had tasted earlier that day, just as devilishly sweet as the black juices that poured from the fruit. I found myself closing my eyes, allowing her to take me, ravage me, her lips claiming my own like a famished savage.

There was a power in her kiss, a strong jolt of sexual frustration bursting out of her body as her fingers found the strands of my hair, delving into the blonde heap, grasping the the mound that was tied back. Her hands always moved, always searching and exploring, holding my neck, pulling me closer to her face, to deepen our connection.

I was overwhelmed, yet so welcoming of her aggression. I didn't know where to touch her, how to touch her. I was never met before with such a violent passion, feeling her scratch behind my neck, delving into my skin, pieces of my flesh filling the inside of her fingernails.

A moan remained stifled in my throat, rumbling inside me, unable to escape. The pain she inflicted was also pleasurable, so gratifyingly intense. She bit my lips, sucked on my mouth, forced her tongue inside me to taste the roof of my mouth.

I fondled her tenderly, the only way I knew how to touch a woman—tracing the outline of her waist with hovering fingers, cupping the swells of her breasts still concealed by her glittery brassier. But she smacked my hands away, not pleased by my caresses. I saw her hastily reach behind her back, parting from me to bite her bottom lip in frustration. She struggled with this for a short time, until she finally gave up, deciding that relinquishing herself of the top was not so important.

Instead, she lifted her derriere to lower her skirt, removing the long, flimsy, silken attire by sliding it off of her, showing the entirety of her dark, shapely legs, the muscle at the front of her thighs twitching with excitement, as well as the short, black curls that covered her smallest, most sensitive area.

She didn't allow for much time for me to relish in her diverse beauty, to fully absorb the texture of her brown skin, the curve of her hips and the plumpness of her bottom. No, there was no romancing. Even with my wife, there was a seduction before the act. Adara was too impatient, ravished to partake in the notion of foreplay.

I felt myself tighten, my groin burning with a forbidden desire, and Adara released that tension as she lowered the hemming of my tights, pushing the stretchy white fabric down over my knees, my thighs and center the only naked part of me. It was here where the woman straddled me, but in a manner I had never seen before. Her knees were bent like a frog, as close to her chest as she could bring them. Holding onto my legs, she dropped herself onto me, forcing our bodies to connect, my member pulsing with a malignant satisfaction, while I extended my neck on the floor, my eyes rolling into the back of my head, granting her permission to own me.

There was something about her position that drove me into a venomous spasm of ecstasy. It was so tribal, unorthodox. She bounced herself on me, grunting each time I reentered her, the grunts gradually morphing into erotic moans, her tempo quickening the more we progressed.

I didn't reach my hands to touch her body, and neither was she focused on feeling my form. The attraction was already established, and all she wanted from me was a quake of pleasure that was absent from her life for quite a long time.

Oh, the men were old and withering in Pulkinoa, and here I was, a Hylian—young, fresh, healthy. She took me with the barbarity of a lioness, and the pleasure that began at the center of my body carried itself to the rest of me, drenching me in the trembling sensation.

When I felt her muscles release my sex, I slapped my palm over my forehead, wondering if she was finished with me. But as I began to lift my torso, I saw her turn herself around, sitting on top of my right thigh, her center moistening my skin.

Taking my knee, she forced my leg to bend, and there she mounted my leg, leaning her chest forward onto my thigh while resting her cheek over my knee. Wrapping her arms around my leg, she lifted her bottom, her arms tightening around my leg as she lowered herself down and eased me inside of her.

A deep, low growl reverberated through my throat, to where I threw my head back down, while she powerfully thrusted her pelvis onto my groin, the slanted oddity of her stance putting a distinct, maddening pressure on me.

I became lost in a land of brutal ecstasy, my eyes blurred with flashes of everything beautiful, colorful, perfect. It was pleasure, unlike anything I had experienced—just raw, pure, unforgiving pleasure, taking over me repeatedly, ferociously.

Everything beautiful, everything perfect. Everything that I loved.

To love another, yet be obliged to honor. I saw Malon and my princess—always both their faces existing in my mind since I left Hyrule, reminding of both duties I held, who my heart and body belonged to.

And Angmar and Cedany, everything beautiful. Everything perfect.

I was at the peak of my satisfaction, ready to succumb to the ultimate feeling of gratification. But I could not give in, could no longer go through with this selfish act. I was partaking in this for no one but myself. I remembered how Nabooru advised me, not to give into my desires, to be led by them.

I took Adara and lifted her off of me before the token of my adultery could be passed.

I began desperate, hasty—breathing quickly, too quickly. Lifting my tights, I covered my defiling pelvis, repeatedly shaking my head at my actions, eyes stinging from the acidity of my tears, my chest aching with the overwhelming surge of guilt.

"What have I done?" I whispered, while Adara grabbed her skirt and pressed the silk against her hips, furrowing her brows as she exhaled heavily through her mouth.

"Why in the world did you do that? What is wrong with you?" Fumbling with her skirt, she managed to messily wear the flimsy thing once more, but then she saw the extent of my reaction to the predicament, and shook my shoulders.

"Link? Link! What is wrong? Why would you not finish?"

"I am a married man!" I whispered to her harshly.

"But you do not love your wife!"

"I still have a duty to her! She possesses my body, not you."

"This is absurd behavior. Any other man would not be acting this way."

With a face drenched in sweat, I narrowed my eyes towards her, shaking my head slowly, wishing she could hear me as I wanted her to. "I am not any other man," I emphasized. "I have been abusing an act that should be performed on the basis of love my whole life. I have always associated with bodily satisfaction. I cannot do that anymore, I cannot."

Tears began to slip down my face carefully, and I made no effort to wipe them away. Whatever scorn apparent in Adara slowly diminished from her face, leaving her expression soft, sympathetic. Pitiful.

"You really are in love with this woman of another time, aren't you?"

"Yes," I breathed. "Yes, for as long as I've been parted from her."

The tension died down, easing away from our bodies. Adara looked down at the floor, her finger gliding along the silk of her skirt, lost in her thoughts, deep in concentration. I watched her closely, my breath never easing. I wondered what she could be contemplating, thinking so strongly about.

After a long moment, she raised her eyes, trapping my gaze, a large breath exiting her nostrils. "What if I told you I could send you to her, to see her again one more time?"

My breath stopped, lips parting while my jaw dropped. I couldn't even blink or barely comprehend the entire idea of her offer. I just felt my body freeze, my thoughts disappear. All the while Adara raised her brows.

"How..." I muttered. "How...could you do that?"

"I'm a magician, do you recall? Though we have yet to go over any business of magic as was intended. I know this spell that can send you anywhere in time. Here."

She crawled over to the book she had dropped a while ago, pulling the heavy thing to her while blowing off the thick sheet of dust that sat on the cover. Licking her fingers, she began to scroll through the pages, glancing at texts and strange diagrams that appeared as symbols to me until she found the heading she had been looking for, sucking in her lips with bliss, her eyes scanning its contents.

"At lot of the magic I've garnered over the years is a dark kind. Despite common belief that it is in fact a sinister device, I find it to be much more powerful than magic of light, if used for proper reasons."

She pointed at a specific line of test in the second column of the page. "This chant right here delves into the mind and heart of the victim, it searches his soul and brings him to where his heart desires most, in the reality of the present time. The forces in the air around us gather together with the focus of the caster, with the knowledge and power of dark magic. And that is how the spell works."

She turned her neck to me and smiled. "What do you think?"

Scratching my head, I realized the lack of covering there, feeling around for my hat to put back on. "I think I want to know what do you want out of all this?"

The helpful smile left her face, and a spark of something unnatural came over her. "I will cast the spell and help take you to the woman other time," she bargained, "if you agree to impregnate me."

I merely stared at her with large, bewildered eyes, disbelieving of her offer. "Impregnate you?" I repeated, my mouth over-exaggerating the pronunciation of the phrase. Pressing my knees together, I scowled, dropping my arms in frustration. "Is this what this whole thing has been about the whole time? What you've been after? To gather my seed?"

"Link, listen to me!" she begged, grabbing my arm so that I would be forced to listen to her. Her eyes had turned watery, a personal anguish plastered on her face. "You do not understand the current situation in Pulkinoa. The men are withering here. Our race will die out if more sons aren't born. There is no one I can mate with. I am willing to help you if you help me. Please, please consider this. It is the only chance for both of us."

Her idea was tempting, so damn alluring, that I wanted to give in, to agree to her reasoning. But I couldn't, I couldn't risk such a feat.

"Time has been tampered with enough," I argued, further shaking my head. "You don't understand, there is a great evil imprisoned in the sacred realm. Anything I do traveling through dimensions could risk breaking the seal and releasing that evil."

"No, no!" Adara bargained, taking my hand and caressing it affectionately. "None of that would happen. This is a black magic, it has nothing to do with the goddesses or anything of Hyrule folklore. Nothing can release this evil you fear. There is nothing to risk. It is a matter of sending your soul to see the one you care for. It is not permanent, no harm could be done to time. I promise you. I promise."

Both yes and no were on the tip of my tongue, while I battled myself to choose which answer I would give her. I wanted more than anything to see the princess, but the idea of planting a seed in Pulkinoa—having another child who would never know me—terrified me. It was another burden I did not want to live with.

"I..." I gulped. "I—"

Before I could finish, a burst of light had flown through the crack of the door. It glistened a fierce, blinding yellow, flying and diving like a crazed, angry bee, all over the room.

While Adara shrieked from shock of the fluttering creature, I managed to get on my knees and trap the ball of golden light in a bowl of my palms. When it smashed into me, I quickly closed my hands, feeling it struggle inside me, it high-pitched muffled banters paining my ears.

"Goodness, what in the world was that?" she scoffed, scooting closer to me and eying my shimmering pressed palms. Carefully, I moved my thumbs to the side, bringing my hands closer to my face, to take a peek of what I held.

I saw a little pretty face smiling at me, miniscule and dainty. "Hello!" it chirped.

With a yelp I released my hands, falling back onto my elbows as I witnessed the little creature fly across the room again, leaving a trail of sparkling dust as she dived back through the creak of a door.

"What is that thing?" pondered Adara once more, scratching her head.

"It's a fairy!"

"What?"

There was no time to explain, for I immediately jumped up from her stance, not even waiting for Adara to catch up with me when I fled the room and trampled down the stairs. She was quick on her feet, however, continuing to call after me as I ran, holding her skirt to keep from tripping over it.

"Why would there be a fairy in this part of Pulkinoa, Link? What do you think you're doing? Slow down!"

But when I reached the bottom of the steps and looked at the corner where Victoria had been resting, I saw no sign of the girl. The cushion was still indented with her form, the veil sprawled carelessly to the side. Two types of panics consumed me, as I was determined to find that little yellow fairy again, as well as the disappearance of the child.

"Where's Victoria?" I demanded frantically.

"She's not there?" Adara heaved as she made it beside me, covering her mouth with her hands while she gasped. "She's gone!"

Simultaneously, the both of us turned, and in the distance we saw that the exiting door was wide open.

Everything occurred so quickly at this time I cannot completely remember even leaving the fortress. I found myself running outside into the night, passing a sleeping Epona, and then stopping suddenly, my eyes locked on a image I thought to be the result of a hallucination.

"Link, what is going—"

As Adara joined me, she, too, froze at the sight in front of her, our eyes melting from the atmosphere.

We had found Victoria, seemingly sleepwalking, moving along the dirt in a deep trance. But that was not the part that troubled me the most. No, for surrounding the child was swarmed by dozens of glimmering fairies. They lit up the night, brought color to an otherwise plain environment. The hues of their wings blended into my pupils, and all I viewed was a remarkable creation of pure color.

I could not stare for long, not when there was an multitude of fairies so close to me. As Victoria moved arms arms smoothly, she touched the fairies, played with the little creatures, and they were drawn to her, so strangely connected to her.

I looked at all of them, to find her—my best friend—searching desperately for the blue that had shone from her. Yet all I viewed were golds, pinks, and green. Not one glittered blue. None of all the fairies I saw.

"Victoria!" I yelled, sprinting to the girl, taking her shoulders and forcing her around. Squating to her level, complete blackness consumed her eyes, her face emotionless, and fiercely I shook her, remove her from this mesmerized state.

"Damn it, Victoria! What are you doing out here!" I continued to shake her, becoming more violent as the screams fled my mouth with a blithering passion. "Victoria!"

Suddenly, life spread back into her eyes, no longer limp as I held her, but fully aware. And with a fear instantly possessing her, she hastily looked around herself, frightened at the abundance of fairies that were drawn to her, her mouth opening as if to shriek, but no sound emerging.

"What is going on!" I demanded of her, shaking her again. "Where did all these fairies come from?"

"I—I don't know!" she hollered.

"How did they get here?"

I felt her short body begin to tremble, tears dropping from her eyes and staining her cheeks. She spoke no answer to me, and seeing her in this state, I scorned myself for loosing my temper at the young child. Immediately, I forced myself to relax, a frown taking my lips, bringing the child against my chest as I hugged her, pressed my face onto her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Victoria. Goddesses, I'm so sorry."

I was unaware of the barefoot steps of the dancer, who began to mingle with these mysterious fairies. When I heard her voice begin to converse with their likes, I carefully lifted my head from Victoria, watching the interaction.

"What brought you all here?"

They seemed intrigued by her costume, swirling along her frame. And finally the little yellow fairy who had flown into her fortress hovered in front of her face.

"We have been released by the Great Fairy," she tweeted. "We only followed the light to escape. We have lost our sense of directions over the years." As she began to giggle, I rose from the ground and encountered the merry creature as well.

"What is your name?" I demanded.

"Rita."

"Do you recall during your time with the Great Fairy of another fairy named Navi?"

"Navi?" she repeated.

"Yes."

Rita pondered on this for a moment, spinning around Adara and I, bothering me to the point where I locked my jaw and clenched my fists wearily in apprehension.

"Oh, yes! Navi! The blue one!"

She obtained my full attention. "Do you know what became of her?"

"It was very many years ago, young man. I only briefly remember her. The only reason my mind can conjure even the slightest image of her is because she was a very quiet, not talkative fairy. She carried a troubled past with her."

I frowned at this revelation, cringing at the pang at my heart.

"The Great Fairy should know of her whereabouts. I have never spoken to her in person, but you can attempt to see her. She can help you more than I."

Such a beautiful scene, of fairies flying and coloring the dark skies. But I felt none of its beauty, just resentment. But a new sense of hope eased its way into my soul, that Navi had come to the Great Fairy in Pulkinoa, and perhaps was still there.

When I felt Adara rest her hand on my shoulder, I released an exhausted breath, and then I turned my head to glance at Victoria, and continued to see the same from her—a girl who knew so much, yet at the same time no nothing of herself.

~oOo~

The sun of the morning burned down and filled the skies with light, while I stood outside by my horse, my armor equipped on my back, the map King Shahin had given me rolled and attached within my belt. The fairies no longer graced the vicinity, but vanished as mysteriously as they appeared.

Adara stood at the door to her home, Victoria by her side. The child looked at me longingly, her eyes puffy with uncried tears, a delicate pout to her mouth.

A sigh left the woman's mouth, whistling against her lips, while she moved her hand to scoop her hair away from her face. "So, you will not take the offer, then?"

Lengthening my posture, my brows pressed together as I shook my head, both of our disappointment emitting from our eyes. "I cannot experiment with such a thing now," I confessed to her. "I know your intentions are well, but right now I feel the goddesses leading me on another path, one of this world, not another.

I took her hand, to her astonishment, and glossed my lips over her knuckles. Despite the dark tone of her skin, I saw a tint of a blush grace her cheeks, a smile tugging at her mouth.

"But I would like to thank you. For helping me learn more about myself."

"If you ever change your mind, Hylian, my offer still stands. I will always be here."

Yet, when my attention refocused onto Victoria, I frowned at her anxious state, bending my knees to meet faces with her, hurt by the sad depth in her eyes.

"I need you to stay with Adara, Victoria," I explained gently to her. "She will take you back to the castle today, and she and the king are going to try as hard as they can to help you find your family. I need to leave Epona here, too, for I know I would not be able to lead her to where I'm trying to go. But, I promise when I'm finished I will come back and I will visit you. And maybe by then you will be with your family."

However, she shook her head at me, shutting her eyes and grabbing onto the sleeves of my tunic, a moan leaving her mouth. "No, please Mr. Link! Please don't leave me. You're my family now. I can't remember them, but I will always remember you. I promise I will never forget. Do not leave me, please!"

Embracing me, she buried her face onto my chest, staining my tunic with her tears. I did not know what to say to her as I stroked the back of her head. She needed to stay in her kingdom, out of harm's way. According to the map, the Great Fairy was located in a whole other sect of Pulkinoa, and my next feat would be passing through a deep cave.

I confess, though, at that moment when I held the sobbing child, and painful memories of my children enveloped my thoughts, I changed my mind about bringing Victoria with me. It was for selfish reasons, ones that did not really rely on her safety, but more for my sanity. I didn't want to be alone again, I could not complete this journey by myself.

I took Victoria with me because my heart needed her. I needed a piece of my life, the one I created in Hyrule. And I vowed after this quest had ended, I would return to my family, take back my simple life—for, it was an obligation I could no longer hide from, one that I chose to take on. Malon was my wife, the owner of my flesh; and my daughters, they owned my heart. The more I was with Victoria, the more she reminded me of them. And the more I couldn't be away from her.

Hand-in-hand the child and I ventured away from Adara's fortress, the sun shining with a divine essence on our forms, advancing us forward to find the Great Fairy, so that I could be reacquainted with my lost best friend.

CHAPTER TWENTY: The Wise Dragon

Adara never did show me the extent of her magic.

I knew not whether what she spoke to me was true—that she could interfere with time by the uses of dark magic to send me to my princess. I wanted to believe her, to throw myself in her power and see the one who did not exist with me.

Yet, my trust in her was limited. I knew her only for a night, had joined bodies with her, and then learned her true interest in me—to create a child. I gave her no true reason to believe my story, and as far as I knew she did not perceive it as true. After all, I claimed to have committed a split in time, which was not an easily identifiable concept.

Whatever it was, Adara saw the thirst in me, the desperateness to see my princess. She wanted to use my infatuation to my advantage, and thought she could manipulate me into giving her a child, to fill her with hope that perhaps she would give birth to a boy.

The Pulkinoan beauty was, in fact, hypnotizing. I was drawn to her, had wanted to see her perform her magic. And perhaps even that was false, though her room was filled with many enchanting books. She may not have intended to show me any magic at all. It was possible that her seduction was her ultimate plan, and the magic a means to lure me to her.

Nevertheless, I left my horse with the woman, and thus I would return and see her again once this mission was completed. I saw a goodness in her, along with the same hunger I held. Yet, at the same time, I feared her, very much so, for I sensed a dark power in her, one she claimed she had a deep control of.

For, according to Adara, dark magic was not solely a sinister practice.

To travel through the dimensions of time to see my princess was so very tempting, but laying my seed in Pulkinoa was a thought that terrified me. I had been making selfish choices, and even my reason for venturing to Pulkinoa was for my own bidding. And even as the goddesses led me here, I still feared Nabooru's warning—as Ganondorf had once been a humble man, it was his greed that destroyed him, his selfishness that stemmed from his encounter with the Hylians.

I had been living ignorantly for such a long time. For twelve years, I only saw the existence of good and evil. I did not realize there could exist an essence in between, that there could be evil in the good, and honesty within the sinister. Ganondorf was not a completely dire man. He was swayed that way, by talks of legend, by thirst for power. And now his betrayal—in both parts of times—would make him more bitter, much more ravenous in the hunt for control he did not seize.

I was a good man, and I wondered just how easily I could be convinced to turn to more sinful path. What would it take for me to become like Ganondorf, and lose myself in my desires?

I knew very little going on this journey. The goddesses intentions were not clear, and it still remained a mystery whether Adara believed my account and was in actuality a practitioner of magic, able to send my soul across time.

Also, there remained the enigma who was Victoria. Who was this girl with the selective memory? And though I was suspicious of her, why did she melt my heart? I knew very well she was not any of my daughters, but even in the short time that I knew her, she was able to capture me.

She was not a regular Pulkinoan, even Adara could see that. Though I was told I was the first Hylian to come into Pulkinoa, I wondered if Victoria had Hylian blood in her, but that idea only brought me more bewilderment to the furtive child.

She kept me company, however, and continued to relish the juicy gualishes I had bought. Our supply of food and water was scarce, and despite the generous feast the king had given us, my stomach was hollow and distressed. I put my fate in the hands of the goddesses, praying they would further lead me in the path they intended.

For a night we traveled on foot, stopping to rest, following the eerily specific map King Shahin had given me. And after a night, we came across a cave in the fields on Pulkinoa—a large, dark glowering hole that reminded me of district of Death Mountain. It could have been a land all its own. And distinctly, the black rocks shimmered in its own mysterious way, as if rarely touched, and even the dirt by the entrance to the cave was flawlessly paved, free of any footprints.

As the fields of Pulkinoa reflected a very stale brown and a dull blue sky, the cave stood higher than a castle, like a mountain itself, with the map directing us to enter inside.

I didn't see the harm, and thus I didn't act cautiously. Despite the sudden chill of the wind that arrived the moment we neared the cave, and the sudden darkening of the sun, I was determined to move through it, and taking Victoria's hand, we exited sunlight by taking one single steps inside the cave.

And there we fell—so quickly with no time to react or think—tumbling down in an endless plummet, Victoria's shrills echoing in the blackness that had succumb us.

~oOo~

The warmth I felt came from a body, from a breath so light that it touched my flesh like a gentle mist. It was the first feeling to awaken me, to relieve me of the darkness of my unconsciousness.

The abscense of light lingered even after I opened my eyes. Several times I blinked, hoping that I could perceive some sense of depth. But I continued to see nothing, and with this my touch heightened.

I had been laying on my side, curled in proction of another body, one much smaller than myself, and uncannily still. Fright immediately consumed every inch my flesh as I scrambled to feel the form that spooned against me, feeling tender skin and finally a light breath of air hitting my fingertips in a careful rhythm.

The long hair felt coarse against my hands, and there I knew it was her—Victoria—still breathing, living. Thr armor on my back began to clang noisily as I tended to the child, echoing in this vicinity of nothingness, the clamor steadily growing, becoming louder, more overpowering.

"Victoria," I whispered, shaking what I believed to be the arm of the girl. "Darling, please wake up."

I could barely hear her whimper, for—more noise, more clanging—louder, and louder, until I knew that the sound could no longer be coming from me. There was something else in here with us.

"Victoria!" I exclaimed, grasping her as I became more frantic. "Get up!"

I knew she opened her eyes, in the darkness. Not from some special feeling or instinct, but only because I instantly saw the intense blue from her irises that blinded me for a moment. The only source of light and color, so fiercely bright—that I crawled away from her. Yes, crawled away and stared in awe at the child whose eyes reflected the shine of the sun over a powerful ocean.

And when she closed her eyes again, and the blue disappeared from my sight, the darkness returned for only a moment, until another surge of light erupted, this time consuming the entire area.

It was an explosion almost, yet without a tremor or anything destructive. The light came with a fierce, roaring thunder, in which I could at last see my form and that of Victoria, whose little voice screamed and hurriedly crawled over to me. I accepted her with open arms, and the both of us held one another as the shadow of a form emerged from the light, to greet us in all its splendor.

There was nothing about this creature that resembled a species I had ever seen—nothing that could identify it as a person. It took sovereign steps, slow and perfectly aligned, with the power and grace of a king. I felt Victoria's arms wrap around my neck tighter as the light that reflected from the beast revealed shiny green scales, and a foot large and flat, the nails sticking out like sharpened blades.

The vibration of Victoria's tremble forced me to feel intimidated at the appearance of the beast. My throat became dry, painfully so. Even as I tried to swallow in a gulp of anxiety, I couldn't muster up the spit to do so. I felt my eyes lose their moistness, while I ceased to blink.

This creature had wings, stood in four legs, and had a tongue that slithered like a snake.

Victoria screeched again, burying her head in my chest as she refused to gander at this monster any more, leaving me to glare at the thing with a numb body.

And it was here where I realized the beast was smiling at us.

No, no—it wasn't trying to intimidate, was not ready to hunt its prey. That was no valiant stomp it took, but now that I observed more carefully, it was a limp. I saw wrinkles crease its snout and the area by its bushy eyebrows. I could not accurately describe its height, but it stood almost as high as a castle, as the heave of its breath hit our bodies like gusts of wind.

This was an elderly beast, one who seemed pleased to see us. As I loosened my hold on Victoria, she must have sensed the removal of danger, for steadily she lifted her face to peak with terrified eyes, continuing to quiver as she stared at the green scaled beast.

It stared at us with its narrowed oval eyes glimmering, the crimson shade resembling stains of blood. I could hear its throat rumble as it took a deep breath in through its mouth, showing us its teeth that reflected like dirty gold, sucking in all the air that surrounded us. Upon its exhale, a cloud of smoke blew out like the ease of a gentle fire.

"This is the cave of the Hidden Valley." Its voice was deep, masculine, but enriched with the tone of wisdom and old age, spoken articulately with the diction of a prophet. "I am Goan, the Wise Dragon. What has brought you to my cave?"

His voice rumbled and echoed, and I saw Victoria frown and cover her eyes, now a little more annoyed than scared. I took this moment to take note of the area we were in now that the light had arrived, and saw that we lied in the depths of the cave, nothing surrounding us but the coarse ground and black rocks.

My gaze returned to the dragon, watching weak amounts of smoke huffing through his nostrils. He was not threatening, not anymore. I became intrigued by his presence. Taking Victoria, I gently removed her from me, her eyes widening with curiosity as I laid her on her bum, following me with her eyes as I stood firmly with the posture of a knight, and approached Goan.

My feet stepped silently, as the only noise came from the breathing of the dragon. He eyed me with interest, tilting his large head as I came to my little body came to him. There, I cleared my throat, shifting my brows as I closed my eyes.

"Wise Dragon," I began, hollering as strongly as I could, my voice so small in comparison to his. "I have come from the land of Hyrule, in search of the Great Fairy here in Pulkinoa! The king of this kingdom has given me a map to lead me to her!"

And out of my belt, I pulled out the rolled up scroll, unveiling it before the dragon. He continued to stare, more interested.

"The Great Fairy?" he spoke, his voice softening. He lowered himself so that he lied on the ground with bent joints, his head level with my entire body.

"Yes!" I yelled, putting the map back where it came from.

"Lower your voice, young man. I can hear you just fine. No need to be hollering. I am an old dragon, I cannot take such raucous."

I was incredibly perplexed by Goan's tone, while he simply lied there, rather comfortably. Victoria's giggles rattled my ears, and when I quickly turned around to glance at her, she sat casually with bent legs, her face quite merry as she snickered.

Returning to face the dragon, my palm rested behind my head, grappling the fabric of the hat. "I apologize."

"No need for apologies," Goan smiled. "How are you with riddles?"

I blinked. "Riddles."

"Yes." Goan exhaled, the gust of his breath swaying my clothes to where I had to hold my tunic down to keep it from flying up. The dragon smirked. "Such as, what is a young man who comes to a distant land in search of the Great Fairy?"

Shrugging my shoulders, my face crinkled at the question. "I…I don't—"

"The answer is a Hylian!" The ground rumbled as Goan chuckled, his laughter deep and thundering. I could hear the high pitched laughter of Victoria with him. I found nothing amusing about the riddle, and I'm sure she didn't either. She was probably entertained by the dragon's wit.

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious," I interrupted, raising my voice again, "but we really need to continue on our path and though your presence is enlightening, you are becoming a detour in our destination."

This ceased the laughter of the dragon, a sense of solemnness glossing over Goan's eyes. This was where I began to feel intimidated again, biting my bottom lip in nervousness as he steadily raised himself once more. He struggled with this movement, smoke continuing to burn though his nostrils in the notion of a cough, and at last he heaved as he stood, looking down at me suspiciously.

"I am wise, because I know all," he spoke with abundant control. "And I know you are being led into a path of death."

Before I could respond or even react to his words, his eyes shifted over to Victoria, who sat there quietly, her fist to her mouth, her eyes large and trembling.

And, oddly, he smiled. "Well, look at you, little deceiver. What are you doing, playing such silly games with this man?"

Goddesses how I scowled at him, fuming with animosity as I marched over to Victoria and embraced the girl whose expression turned fearful and worried. His laughter filled the cave, roaring like a monster, yet with the weak tone of an old, tired man.

I would not let this beast threaten Victoria. She was only a child—what business did he have toying with her? He could play riddles with me, but I would not let him scorn her.

"Leave this child alone!" I directed Goan, pulling her closer to me. She grabbed the cloth of my tunic, pressing her cheek onto my shoulder. "She has done nothing! If you are so all knowing, then what do you have against an innocent girl? Who are her parents? Tell me that, or move so that we may get along our path!"

Whatever amusement the dragon obtained from me, it quickly fled, and with a deadly interest gazed at my protective form over the girl. He seemed to observe the way I held her, how she responded to me, how we appeared together, almost as one body.

He spoke not another word of her.

Instead, he released another breath, the air from his mouth warm as it loomed over our bodies. "It seems you have not been warned of the dangers that lurk in this cave."

Moving my palm down Victoria's head, I gently massaged the girl as I gave Goan an odd glance. "Danger? What danger? King Shahin made no mention of danger."

"Past my cavern, this cave is filled with corpses that are old and bitter against the king, young man. There is a lot you are unaware of concerning the kingdom of Pulkinoa, and what even the inhabitants of this land consider to be the Great Fairy. It happened too long ago for anyone to know."

It was difficult for me to absorb this information. "Corpses? Like the undead?"

Goan breathed another failed breath of fire. "No, no. These were actual men, Pulkinoans, who died while trying to get to the Great Fairy, but were instead cursed by her."

I shook my head, cradling Victoria like an infant. "That cannot be. I have never heard of any Great Fairy cursing an individual."

"Young man, she is not truly a Great Fairy."

My body stiffened. "What do you mean? Who is she, then?"

I noticed Goan become lost in thought for a long moment, his eyes staring upwards, a wobble to his old, unstable weak legs. His tongue ventured out his mouth as he took in a steady breath, a cloud of smoke leaving him and filling the air, aching my lungs.

"Perhaps I should begin with the history of King Shahin. You see, long ago, the king had a wife. She was queen of Pulkinoa. She ruled alongside Shahin, and during this time, the land was fruitful and vivid. Pulkinoans worshipped the Goddess of the Sand, primarily, and the royal family was blessed under divine protection and magic.

"Oh, but you see. Both the king and queen were selfish people. When the King Shahin began to take many wives and mistresses, the queen became enraged. Though she could not lose her power, she felt betrayed by her husband, and thus she cursed the women of her own land with the power given to her by the Goddess of the Sand, making it rare and almost nearly impossible for the birth of males."

The information provided to me by Goan was bewildering, and with attentive ears I further listened to the dragon, becoming immersed in his tale.

"The king retaliated of course, over time, by banishing the queen, by sending her to grow old in the vicinity of Pulkinoa called the Hidden Valley. And there she became the Great Fairy. Though, she is not really a Great Fairy, but is cursed to watch over the lost fairies that usually wandered into Pulkinoa. This occurred several hundred years ago."

I flinched, letting go of Victoria, the girl rubbing tiredly at her eyes while I inched closer to Goan, my thumb smoothing over my lips as my brows slanted. "Hundreds of years ago?" I repeated. "But…King Shahin is still alive!"

Goan sighed gently, though I was still touched by his breath, the smell of a dull fire burning my nostrils. "Yes, yes. It does seem strange. That is because the Goddess of the Sand grew bitter towards the royal family, and took away her gift of magic and blessing over the kingdom. She cursed the king and queen to live for many years, to suffer in their old age. The King had sons before his wife had cursed him, and they grew old and died before they could take the throne."

The king's motives made much more sense in my mind now, how he sent me to the Hidden Valley where he banished his wife, knowing I would not return alive. In fact, he had given me the bottle to mock me!

Cringing, I stared up at Goan, my head beginning to hurt. "So, is my journey to the queen impossible? Will I not be able to make it to her?"

"The path to the Hidden Valley is perilous," explained Goan glumly. "I have seen several Pulkinoan men over the years, though not many, who have heard of the legend of the Great Fairy and attempted to make it to her. None have ever survived such a feat. This cave is filled with corpses and monsters, and even if you were to make it past, her dungeon is guarded by her deku slaves. To add, the woman has become very stingy with her fairies, as she uses the magic garnered from them."

"No," I breathed, tears boiling my eyes as I shook my head in denial. "No! There must be a way! There must! You don't understand, I need to get there! I must get to the fairies! Tell me how!" Clasping my hands together, I knelt before the dragon, desperation becoming my eyes. "Please tell me how."

He only looked at my pleading form for only a moment, and strangely enough, his gaze returned to the little girl behind me, who kept quiet this entire escapade. Something seemed to convince him, and I wasn't quite sure what, for an expression of approval gleamed over his elderly face, and soon his eyes returned back to me, a careful nod to his large head.

"I am an old dragon, young man. My powers have become limited. Goodness, I can't even hail fire from my breath any longer." He paused here, his deep voice echoing throughout the cave, filling my ears.

"But there is one thing I can help you with," he began again. "Take your sword and place it before me."

Hesitantly, I did as was told, slowly removing the armor from my back and letting it clang in front of the dragon.

"Now step away."

Taking careful steps, I returned to Victoria, kneeling beside her while she took my hand, glancing up at me anxiously.

"What is happening, Mr. Link?"

I bit my lip. "I'm not quite sure."

We waited here, in silence, while silence took over, and all we saw was Goan staring intently at the sword that must have been almost invisible to him. Compared to the dragon, the armor was just a little shiny speck in the cave. But he eyed it intently, until he opened his mouth, and with closed eyes, exhaled onto the metal.

There was no smoke or particles of fire, instead a bright light escaped from his throat, just as the light that had rid the cave of darkness. It shone brightly, yet quickly, shimmering for a brief instant, until dissolving into the air.

And the sword continued to lie there, glowing a little more vibrantly than before.

I went to take it, standing up and stepping towards the object and even bending over to pick it up. But, I hovered over it, watching it glimmer, reluctant to touch it. Wrinkling my nose, I raised my face and glanced at Goan, waiting for a look of approval.

"Take it," he directed. "I have dusted it with my own magic, to help you block the powers that await you ahead."

Taking a deep breath in, I lifted the blade, though felt nothing as I repositioned it on my back. I straightened my back, however, and held myself more mightily, looking directly at Goan's face and nodding with thankfulness.

"I will let you pass," he told me. "But, be warned, there is a great evil behind me. One that is not fresh and blithering. No, this evil is old, bitter, relentless, and wise. Be aware, young man."

As I went to Victoria, the two of us walked hand in hand as Goan moved his body, using his wings to slowly lift himself and over to the side. As he flapped, the cave filled with wind, strong gusts surrounding us, swaying without mercy.

And as we passed to enter the great evil, Goan took one last look at Victoria, and she returned the gaze. For a brief moment, their eyes locked, and I saw Goan smile again smugly.

"Behave now, you little deceiver!"

I frowned as I placed my palm behind her back, pushing her to scurry along and leave sight of Goan, whose laughter filled the cave once more, echoing in my ears even after we could see him no more.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: The Corpse

I was initially upset with my encounter with Goan.

Though he aided me somewhat, and informed me of vital knowledge that I was previously oblivious to, I did not appreciate his mannerism towards Victoria.

If she was such a suspicious creature, why did he not speak of her after his accusation? He told me nothing about her family, her past, but simply stated she was a little "deceiver." To me, that meant nothing. She was only a small child, one who could not defend herself. Though she continued to mystify me, I could not hold a judgment towards her.

But, by the warning of the dragon, I kept a close eye on the girl, eying her occasionally with wonder, wishing I could understand who she truly was—or better yet, for her to know herself.

I felt betrayed in more ways than one, and fearful of our lives. Now that I think about it, I realize I was very selfish dragging Victoria along on this wild escapade. Yes, she did want to come with me, but I should have been more wary of her wellbeing. I brought her for selfish reasons, to avoid loneliness, for I missed my daughters. And even after Goan had reckoned that there was a large chance I would not return alive, I still chose to allow the girl to follow me.

The jar King Shahin had given me continued to rest within the sack I carried. Goddesses, how I despised that man after Goan had revealed his secrets to me. It was the fault of the throne that Pulkinoa had become the way it was. The king and queen's greed and envy led to the slow extinction of a thriving land.

He looked so old…yes, I remember—withering and coughing, as if begging for death to take him. But, he couldn't die, could not handle the deed himself, because he had no sons. It would be terrible for him to take his own life and have one of his daughters take the throne. So he chose to live his long, tedious life, it seemed, and keep quiet of the fact that he had been king for many hundred years.

I wondered how the man continued to reproduce, and perhaps that came with the curse. It must have been terrible to go through the ordeal with his many wives all this time trying to create a son, and failing each time. Perhaps the queen had made sure to curse her husband more cruelly than the land, so that he would never gather a son.

I would prove myself to Pulkinoa—I would bring a fairy in that jar and hand it proudly to the king, let him wallow in his failure. He very well had sent me on a path of death, as I would not procreate with his women. He wanted to infuse some healthy Hylian blood into his people, in his search for a means to cleanse the women of the curse put on the queen.

I used my own logic to conjure this conclusion in my mind. Everything seemed to make sense to me, how Shahin had seemed upset with me for rejecting his offer, but then appeared smug when he suggested I return to him a fairy.

He knew I would return with nothing. That I would either die trying or leave the moment I was faced with danger. The old, devilish bastard.

The risks I was taking just to find my fairy were very extravagant, and I found myself constantly creating the scenario in my mind of our possible reunion. Each time I imagined seeing her again, I never knew what to say, how to react. I would only stare at her, marvel in our memories, and feel my eyes moisten as my body would experience a blissful tremor.

The goddesses had much more in mind for me, however. They had taken a selfish desire of mine and transformed it into a quest. I was led to Victoria, a lost young girl, and the oppressed people of Pulkinoa. They had called me to adventure, one of a personal pursuit, and of also something much greater.

~oOo~

I held onto Victoria's hand securely as we moved along the cave. I could feel her little fingers warm my skin, her thumb fumbling against my own. As we stepped carefully, her knees shook from the cold, and even the hairs on my legs began to rise within my tights, the chill becoming rather uncomfortable.

This was a cave like any other cave I'd encountered, yet that mysterious light brought on by Goan continued to light the way for us, and I wondered if the dragon continued to watch our every move. Was it in protection or for his own amusement? He was a silly old dragon, yet his eerie wisdom seemed to baffle me. He never had asked for my name, though he boldly declared his own, and neither did he seem to know my name, addressing me as young man in our entire acquaintance.

It was indeed eerily silent as we progressed forward, the only sound echoing being our tender footsteps and quick breathing. Occasionally, I would glance down at Victoria, to see her qualish-stained lips sucked in, or her head bobbing to a silent rhythm in her mind. Her eyes would remain in front of her, as if she could not feel my stare, or was not bothered by it.

Who was this child…this little deceiver?

I was to speak to her—in fact, my lips had parted as I was about to stop walking when she had ceased before me, halting quite suddenly.

With arched brows, I looked at the child, kneeling to her level and holding her shoulders to face me.

"What's wrong?" I asked of her, worried by her uneasy expression. She remained quiet, however, pursing her lips in an almost painful manner. Her eyes widened, glowing with their usual vibrancy.

I was troubled when she did not answer. "Victoria."

"I heard something," she whispered coarsely, her mouth in a straight line. Her eyes then shifted to the right, and my eyes followed her direction.

I saw nothing, however, except the same dreary path we had been traveling.

"What did you hear?"

"Just this weird noise."

Nothing but the dripping silence melted in my ears. I looked at the child for another moment, wrinkling my nose as I further observed her, my thumb grazing over my chin. She remained there, perfectly still, silently fretting.

A sigh fled my throat. "Come on, Victoria. I'm sure it was nothing."

Though, as I took her hand, I continued to see that constant uneasiness to her, even when I dragged her along the black path.

"There is nothing to fear right now," I further eased her. "It's just us here. No one can hurt you." None of my comments soothed her, nonetheless, and as I took quick glances at the child, I saw her attempt to hold in her fright.

"I'm right here with you, also," I noted. "I promise I will protect you, and make sure you are okay. I won't let anything bad happen to you, just believe that."

She stopped again, her body becoming eerily stiff. Grimacing, my fists found my hips while I stared down at her.

"Still afraid?"

Her bottom lip pouting to expose the wet flesh inside her mouth, Victoria shrugged, clasping her hands behind her back. I saw her lower her head, her chest dropping as she sighed.

"That dragon...he called me a mean name."

I frowned at the the tone of her voice, and the worry that leaked in her diction. Dropping down to her, my palm rested on her shoulder, but she still focused her gaze away from me.

"Oh, he didn't mean it like that," I rationed. "He was just telling a joke."

As Victoria crossed her arms over her chest, more creased filled her white dress. "He thinks I'm trying to hurt you. He doesn't want you to trust me."

I had almost forgotten that Victoria had witnessed the entire event, and that she was not as naïve as I thought. Until she spoke, I didn't realize how much our encounter with Goan had bothered her, mostly his accusations.

A part of me wanted to believe him—for, I listened to all his other advice, accepting his magic on my sword. Why would he lie about Victoria? Yet, I was a stubborn young man at the time. I was protective of the girl, wanted no harm to come to her.

With crinkled brows, my arm curled around her back, while I pressed my lips against the top of her head, feeling her small body relax in my hold.

"Don't worry about that," I spoke softly against her ear. "I trust you, just as long as you tell me everything you know." Gently, I pulled away from her. "Is there anything you have been holding back from me?"

Simply, she shook her head. "Nothing. I promise."

I tilted my head, as I hoped she would have confessed something to me. "Are you sure?"

She didn't even pause to think. "I'm sure."

Our eyes were locked, blue melding with blue. She spoke with a tender confidence, one that startled me a bit.

"Alright." I stood carefully, my eyes never leaving her. "If that's what you say, then I believe you."

I was surprised to see lack of relief on her face. I suspected she knew my confidence in her was not complete, and that I continued to grow suspicious of her the more I was around her. But, in my logic, she was only a child, and how much harm could she cause?

Planting a smile on my lips, I took Victoria's hand once more, turning my head to face forward and continue walking to the Hidden Valley.

But I was barely able to take a single step forward before Victoria screamed, her screech claiming the capacity of the cave, vibrating painfully through my ears, while within an instant I felt the impact of bone and ripped skin pound against my jaw, sending me onto my back, my sight completely blackening for a moment.

Everything happened too quickly for me to comprehend. As my vision returned, I saw a swarm of corpses staring down at me, their flesh tattered, eyes spewing from their sockets. These were not like the Undead unleashed by Ganondorf. They were living beings, decayed over time, trapped by a curse of some sort. I could see their bowels bleed through their bellies, the bones of their knees rubbing against each other as they moved, creating a sound that pierced my ears, forcing me to cringe in the agony of their torn forms.

They watched me with a blithering hatred, and I wanted to get up—to regain my composure and destroy these monsters—but I found myself completely still, unable to move, to scream, to do anything but stare at them.

It was when Victoria screamed again that I closed my eyes an used my pelvis to lift my legs and kick several of the corpses that hovered over me. The tear of their abdomens as they broke in half from my hit lingered throughout the cave. I had only rid two of them, yet many more surrounded me, coming from every corner.

So many—with bleeding tongues, trudging limps, agape jaws, chipped teeth. They surrounded me, as I curled on the ground, lifting myself to escape their trap, to protect Victoria, and fight for our safety. Even lifting myself up completely was impossible, as I felt the hands of the corpses grab onto me, feeling the moistening of their palms, leaving imprints of their blood on me, attempt to sink their rotten teeth onto my skin.

It hurt—goddesses, it hurt so much. They took me like bait, coming at me all at once, sinking their long nails into my flesh, wishing to take as much blood as they could. I tried everything that I could, sending back kicks, elbow jabs, hitting as many of the corpses as I could. But there were still so many, too many—and not enough time, not enough space.

Victoria—damn it, Victoria! My shrills pierced my ears, even amidst the moaning of the corpses, filling my mind with images of the Gerudo women murdered by the Hylians, taken out of existence by the demands of a king—my king—the eyes of Nabooru, mourning the dying out of her race.

I cried out, yelping as loud as my body would allow, burning my throat as the screech escaped my mouth and carried out the entire cave. I acted quickly, reaching behind me for the sword, not even sure if I pulled it out when I began to swing my arms with fists grasped together.

I didn't open my eyes, but just hurled my body while my mind continued to flash visions of everything I had encountered—Gerudo Valley, the treacherous King Shahin, the lies that spewed from Princess Zelda. I thought of Adara, and her offer to me, to see the woman who I could never had, seduced me for the pleasure of only a short time, for even if I saw her again for just a second, it would be the most cherished second of my life.

Lastly, I saw light—a bright light—so luminous, divine, coming from Victoria's eyes. My own eyes boiled from the image in my mind.

Yet, I realized it was not a figment. The light was real.

When I opened my eyes, I was immediately blinded by a blazing illumination, the shot of glow so strong and fierce it was almost colorless. Suddenly I no longer stood in a bleak cave, but in a cloud of light—pure, perfect light. It filled my soul, captured every part of me.

It lasted too briefly, and when it disappeared, my vision was blurred. As I heard a loud clang, my neck shot down, and I saw that I had been carrying the sword, which had slipped from my grasp.

A sharp gasp clogged my throat, for I also saw the army of corpses that had mercilessly surrounded me, feasting on my flesh, all now lying perfectly still on the ground.

I didn't know what to think, or how to properly react. I jumped over the bodies, cringing whenever my boot smashed into the flesh of one of the corpses, staining the heels a thick crimson. Messily, I picked up my sword, refusing to put it back in its heath, gripping the handle securely with both palms.

My arms felt raw, the cold air brushing over the rips on my shirt, aching the wounds I had yet to even inspect. So many corpses—where did they come from? And how did they all collapse? Would they rise again? Continue to ravage me?

Every question remained unanswered, and more conjured when I saw Victoria.

She was unharmed, flawlessly beautiful, a glow surrounded her form, angelically capturing her small body. It was a riveting sight, forcing me to bite down on my bottom lip. She was knelt down among the masses of bodies, allowing the head of a single corpse to rest on her lap. Her palm and forearms dirtied in blood as she caressed the naked, coarse flesh of the decaying form. She did not seem to mind, however, as a gentle, saddened smile curved on her lips. And when I approached her, the glow to her body disintegrated into the air.

I dropped my sword, kneeling down to see what had caught her interest with this bloody mound of flesh. While my mouth was agape, no words could flee. I merely stared with glittering eyes at the face of the corpse, his eyes partially opened, blood dripping down the thick creases of the flesh on his cheeks, resembling a river with a distinct path.

Despite his condition, I could feel cold breath leave his butchered nostrils, blood leaking with every careful breath he took.

"Beware of..." His voice was deep, old and coarse. He spoke in a whisper, lifting his trembling arm to me. I didn't resist him, but instead allowed him to rest his palm onto my chest, feeling him grip onto my tunic, the moist of his hand leaking through and touching my skin.

"Beware," he began again, his lips chipping as he spoke, "of the Great Fairy."

I wanted to speak—to inquire why, what she had done to him, and what I should expect throughout my venture in the cave and to the Hidden Valley. Yet, I failed to muster any ability to speak, my throat continuing to throb painfully from my earlier vehement screech.

"I was a man such as you," he continued, digging his nails deeper, tearing my tunic. "I was in search of the Great Fairy. I ignored all the warnings. And now I am forever cursed in this cave."

It was painful watching him struggle, and a bigger fear rose in me that I, too, would become like him.

"Beware of her," he pleaded, and there he became limp in Victoria's hold, abruptly letting go of my attire.

"Beware."

Silence consumed everything.

Stillness, absolute solitude. My gaze had been fixated on the sleeping corpse, my body stiff and reluctant to move. I was not the one to end this bleakness. No, it was Victoria. Something had come over her, something I could not understand—as if she was not aware of what she was doing all this time. For, she gasped with fear, and that sound alone lifted my eyes to her, watching as she flung the corpse she was cradling off of her, bringing her arms before her and gawking with horror at the dark blood that stained her delicate skin.

A raging passion took over me, an emotion so absurd I don't know how to describe it. As the child trembled with terror, I leaned forward over to corpse and threw my shoulders threateningly onto her shoulders.

She yelped, her eyes glistening with tears, while her face cringed with pain and discomfort, expressing confusion and fear. I ignored it, all of it—I wanted answers, to know the truth behind this girl.

"Where did the light come from?" I demanded. All that came was a whimper from her, her eyes drowning in tears she refused to let stream down her face.

This time I shook her, a growl to my discord. "Where did that light come from?"

"I don't know!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking.

"You do know! It came from you!"

"It didn't!"

Grunting, I lifted the girl, ignoring her screech as I held her midair, standing up and glaring at the child's face while she dangled in my hold.

"Who are you? Did someone send you to deceive me? Tell me now who you really are!"

Her knees rubbed together, while she at last released the restraint on her eyes to allow the tears to fall. Her face was a wet, wrinkled mess, her voice distorted by her cries as she spoke. "I told you, my name is Victoria!"

"Damn it, where did that light come from!"

"I don't know! I don't know anything! I'm scared!"

There was a beast inside me, one that I kept hidden, one I later discovered existed within everyone. Though I had confronted her aggressively before, I had never seen such terror in her eyes as I did then, and it stemmed from me. She was afraid of me.

My eyes shifted to the sword that lied wedged between two corpse bodies, and I recalled everything the blade symbolized. Ganondorf had unleashed the beast inside him, and it enveloped his entire existence. It could have been a matter so small that might have unveiled the monster he became—such as a natural emotion of lust and greed.

For a short moment, I became the same man as Ganondorf, holding a child ready to destroy her, not sure of who she was but willing to do anything to discover the truth, even becoming violent. I realized what I was doing, as I watched her cry and silently beg for mercy, just to be let go and wonder where the man who promised to help her had gone, in his place someone who distrusted her.

Closing my eyes, I felt tears burns them, and quickly I put the girl down, sitting on my knees, shivering in the intense guilt and remorse I felt. I could not become him, I would not let myself. I was not Ganondorf, but the Hero.

Even the rogue was a hero once to his people. How easy was it to convert, to become somebody completely different, all in declaration of a determined purpose?

I cried silently, beginning to feel hatred for myself, and there I lingered desperately until I felt a palm touch on my shoulder. Upon lifting my eyelids, I saw Victoria, her palm resting on my shoulder, her face absent of a smile, while she continuously sniffled tenderly.

She was not one of my daughters. I knew nothing of her. But she was a helpless child, one who put all her trust in me, and one I promised to help. As a hero, I was obliged to this child. And as a man, I was also obligated to rescue her.

She saved my life, whether she knew it or not, however the light appeared and if she were fibbing or being honest. She saved me from the corpses. And now I needed to save her.

Scooping her into my arms, I held onto her aggressively, my arms wrapped around her compactly, face buried in my shoulder. I had become the child, and she was my comforter. I don't know how long we stayed this way, embracing one another surrounded by slumbering corpses, or when they would awaken and perhaps attack again.

However, I do remember that I pledged to myself that the beast would never reveal itself again. Never would I allow my selfishness to take over me as it did, to hurt others for the sake of my own pleasure. It was so easy to come out, and I needed a better control over it.

The rest of our journey to the Hidden Valley did result in more occurrences with the corpses. My skill with the sword was a little faulty at first, yet as I continued to battle the corpses I remembered every swing and stab I had mastered, for the swordsman in me never died, but awaited for his return.

I do not know how to describe our departure from the cave into the Hidden Valley. It was subtle yet simultaneous drastic, as we moved along the path of the cave until all of a sudden, we were greeted by the light of the land, only to discover a plain that could have once been prosperous and beautiful, but now appeared just as old and decaying as the corpses...

A vision that reminded me what Ganondorf had done to Hyrule in the Other Time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: The Hidden Valley

There he resided in my subconscious, reminding me he was not dead.

But very much alive.

The same vision, so repetitive and never ceasing to surprise me, his eyes bleeding with a bright thirst for the control he failed to fully obtain. Blood stuck to the hair of his nostrils, spewing carefully when he exhaled, a sly smirk taking his lips.

There existed two of him, both with the divine mark. Both reminding me they were not dead.

But very much alive.

Both trapped in a holy prison, banished from the world, but they continued to grin, despite the cuts on their bodies, the rips of their capes. They were identical, absolutely the same. And both knew of me, watched me in the darkness with ravenous appetites, praying to feast on my failure, my loss, my death.

My back ached while I lied against the cold, stone walls, my stomach contracting feverishly as it begged for nourishment. Though my eyes were heavy, I could not sleep. So many thoughts invaded my mind—absolutely unorganized and merciless to my sanity.

Even in my hopeless situation, I wanted to think of everything good, but only the terrible plagued me. The spirit of the man whose sword I owned persisted to whisper his eventual victory—both of them, in both my ears—to fill my brain with their words so I could undeniably believe it as fact.

How did I find myself in this prison? Locked away from my weapons, food, and little Victoria? I had only been to the Hidden Valley so briefly—had smelled the sour airs of the dismal land, touched the oak of dead trees. In such a short amount of time, so frivolously short—to have barely found the castle, aspire a means to sneak inside, only to be encountered by swarms of deku servants, capturing us so boldly I felt my skin splinter from the wood of their hands.

They were well groomed, dressed in suits of a dark, rich blue, a drastic distinction from the dull brown land they lived upon. I could have very well envisioned for the Hidden Valley to have once been filled with bright luminous greens, exotic orange and red, and a dazzling pink sky—for the hills and plains to be decorated with flowers, coloring the ground as an artist would his canvas.

I could only envision it, for all I could actually see was the dirt that captured every curve of the vicinity, and the tall, grey castle that stood as mighty and sturdily as Death Mountain.

I had once been very clever, able to sneak inside the royal castle, outwit the guards, and find the princess in her garden. I knew that I still possessed that slyness, and so Victoria and I walked wearily along the pathway, moving along the maze of dirt and rock, following the map the rotten old King Shahin had given me.

We did not directly approach the castle. In fact, we stood quite a distance from the entrance, where I saw several deku guards standing before the large doors. Oh, but I should have known better, especially after the warning for the wise dragon. I should have realized how well guarded the Great Fairy's chamber was, that no man had ever returned alive.

The found us—took me and Victoria, separating us, pulled us apart, appalled at the resistance of the lock of our hands, refusing to let go of one another. A fierce yelp scoured my throat as I felt her small fingers release from mine, drowning in the depth of her fearful wet eyes.

As I was held captive, I saw the other deku begin to inspect a growling Victoria, who attempted to bite at the creatures, much to their amusement.

"What should we do with the child?" asked the squeaky voice of one of the deku, his eyes glowing as he observed her meticulously.

"Hmm…we shouldn't arrest her. I think the Great Fairy would want us to bring the girl to her."

The screams that erupted from Victoria forced a tremble to my ears, while my face grimaced with rage, trying to fight off the hold the deku had on me, resist the spears they held beneath my chin.

"You will take her nowhere!" he demanded vehemently, feeling my forehead burn up as my cheeks darkened to a boiling crimson. "Let the girl go!"

My outburst only resulted in one of the guards pressing the blade of his spear up to my skin, allowing it to glide along the tender flesh. I gulped and felt it painfully travel down my dry throat, while I extended my neck, my heart pounding with the ferociousness of a deep drum.

They took her away from me, and the final image I saw of her was the horror that swam in her eyes, her arm continuing to reach out for me even as they dragged the both of us in the opposite direction.

And when I could see her no more, I still heard her screams for me, piercing through my ears, and landing in my thoughts before I was knocked unconscious.

I had awoken with a blurry mind, and heavy head. At first, I saw blackness, or at least, shots of blackness. My vision had yet to completely revive, specks of light slowly creeping to devour the blackness that cowered over my sight.

I found myself in a small area, immediately bothered by a fierce stench of what could only be described as death. The room was brown, with grew bars binding m from escaping. I realized I was in a prison, just as I had been in Gerduo Valley.

I didn't leap from the ground or perform any startled notion. With a deep groan, I reached my hand behind my back and cringed when I felt only the cloth of my tunic. The deku had taken everything from me.

~oOo~

I wanted to think of everything good, but there existed very little of that in my life.

I had seen good, but it was always taken away from me, or foolishly abandoned. The first good in my life was my mother, who sacrificed her own life in a time of war to spare my own. She was a good I could not remember, but lived in my heart.

The second good was the kindness of the Great Deku Tree, who allowed me to live in his forest and had chosen me to venture inside to fight the curse placed upon him. But I could not save him, and he, too, died and left me without good.

Navi was another good—one I was desperate to find. And my daughters—they were good, but I had left them. And even my wife, she was good, though she knew nothing about the troubles I faced. I never told her, and if I did, I wasn't sure if she would believe me.

There was perhaps one constant good that I could lose myself in, one who I could envision any way I pleased, because in this reality she was only a figment. In this dungeon, I imagined her, in every way that I could, relishing in the brief memories, my last encounter with her.

I could remember every last instant; the gentle sway of her hair as she moved towards me, the sorrow that crystalized her eyes, and the moment where I could have stopped everything—to tell her that I would rather stay with her, to rebuild the kingdom. I had nothing to return to, that I wanted her and only her.

My body shivered when I recalled her taking my hand, my eyes relaxing back in my head, my throat loosening as I became captured in the memory. We shared one final look before she sent me away, just one hopeful stare before I disintegrated and broke the barrier of time and splitting it.

Her expression seemed as if she begged for me to say something—to stop her, hoping silently that I would deny going back, to express my passion for her.

I spoke not a word, however, and perhaps I did inwardly want a more peaceful life, one where I was not a hero, forced into the important role I was given. And for the last twelve years, I very well had been running from the life I once lived, while I continued to thirst for it, not pleased with the simplicity I thought I wanted.

My princess of the Other Time was everything good to me, everything perfect. Someone not real here, but very alive in my heart. If I could just cup her cheek, and look into her eyes for only an instant—to see her again, and hold her, and say what I should have said before she sent me back.

I grew as a sexual being, misusing sex and never being pleased with myself. I married Malon not because I loved her, but was dutifully bound to her. I was dutifully bound to her not because I loved her, but because I saw her as the embodiment of woman, and took her body selfishly to feed my own lust and frustration. I used her just as much as she used me. And yet, I still cared for her, deeply, and I missed her.

The last sight I envisioned was Victoria, how we were parted, as she was taken away from me helplessly, and I did nothing to protect her as I promised. My affection for her surpassed every suspicion that lurked inside me. Somehow, I felt a vivid connection with her. She was like me in many ways: so knowing and wise, yet simultaneously confused and hopelessly lost.

I continued to think of everything good until I could think no more, the noise of the deku guards teasing hurting my head, while they giggled obnoxiously outside my cell, throwing my shield to one another.

There were two of them before me, in the long, black hall of cells. Yet, they chose to stand before mine, mocking me as they played with my weaponry, nearly falling back everything one attempted to catch my shield, clanging against their bodies mightily.

"Well, Mr. Knight, you don't have your mighty shield now!" One of the deku guards held the shield sloppily now, chuckling at its supposed cleverness.

The other guard emptied the contents of my sack on the ground, eying the items dismally before picking up my other piece of weaponry, slowly pulling the sword out of its sheath.

"What a shiny blade you have here, Mr. Knight," the deku snarled. "Nice and clean. I don't see any blood on it. But we'll fix that for you during your execution. How do you like that? Dying by your own blade?"

I grunted as they both burst into a frenzy of laughter, clutching at their wooden bellies. Turning my head away from them, I chose to look at the wall, rather willing to gaze at the blank surface than the defilement of my armor.

Their laughter became a bothersome noise in the background, it was when it stopped that I became intrigued. One moment, the deku were chuckling like fools, and the next I heard a clamoring smack, similar to the sound of wood chopping, as well as several startled grunts.

Upon hearing the echoing clang of my sword to the ground, I lifted myself up, regaining my balance as I ran to the bars, grasping the cold metal to see what had happened.

On the floor lied the unconscious bodies of the guards, appearing as a pile of little dead trees among my belongings. My wonderment as to what had happened to them lasted briefly, as I was immediately encountered by the sleep form of a cloaked figure, standing before my cell with a pole in her grasp.

Despite the dull, grey veil wrapped around her body, locks of black, curled hair peaked out, a well as the helpful smile embellished on her dark mouth.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: The Great Fairy

"Adara?" I spoke almost too hastily, my brows pressed together with a desperate hopefulness, while my jaw painfully clenched as I continued to observe the peculiar women. The metal of the bars became warm in my grasp, and so fiercely I clutched them, as if I attempted to demolish them from my path.

But the woman shushed me, quite sharply, like a knife spewing from her lips, as she revealed to me the keys she took from the deku guards, shining a rusted gold over her dark, slender hand. Like diamonds they glistened in my eyes, causing my throat to lose all its moisture, my mouth falling agape, ready to devour my release.

There was no grace to her movement, nothing that resembled Adara. She was taller, her back hunched, her palms wrinkled. But there was still a careful femininity to her. I watched carefully as she tried to shove the key in the lock, grunts gargling in her throat as she momentarily struggled with the task. I grew more and more anxious watching her, my legs positioned to storm out once I heard that gracious click.

Such an ordinary sound became the melody of salvation to me, and moments after hearing it, I was free from the cell, leaving the emptiness and formally greeted by the woman who had rescued me. I wanted to thank her, to properly introduce myself as well as inquire about her identity. But this woman, quickly she pulled on the sleeve of my tunic, urging me forward.

"Hurry, we must leave before they awaken."

It was odd how she remained so calm, yet persisted to rush me. Hesitating briefly, I stood still looking at her, then at my armor with the deku guards. I felt the intensity within me erupt, and before I could comprehend my actions, I took back from them my armor, and with the familiar glorious weight, I traveled down the sandy hued vicinity with my female rescuer.

This happened so quickly, I can barely remember the maze in which she led me through. It was a blur of stairs and passage ways, and this woman knew the direction fluently. We had gone from the dungeon up to a stairway that spiraled mercilessly. The mysterious lady guided me powerfully, nonetheless, her feet never getting tired after each meticulous step, her arches flexing powerfully.

As I traveled the stairway with her, I was urged on by the will to find Victoria. They had taken her from me, and I knew not what they had done with her. I prayed for her safety, but I needed to find her, to bring her back to me. If I could accomplish anything here, it would to save Victoria from harm. And it was that will that rid me from any pain, every particle of exhaustion I should have felt—that will power that allowed me to defeat the deku guards that had come in our way several times as we entered various passage ways, climbed more stairs.

I was taken aback, however, when this cloaked woman suddenly stopped our trail. She had taken me in a darker area of the castle—I remember this—how she lifted a flaming torch and revealed a secret opening behind an otherwise seemingly normal wall. The almost invisible brown creases spread slowly, rattling the ground beneath us rather gently, until a depth of darkness greeted us. I made the step to go within, but here, this woman turned herself around to face me, and I saw the grey glaze of her eyes flicker from the light of the fire she held.

She said nothing, but took my hand, and together we walked into the depth of nothingness. The moment we entered, the wall shut behind us, and suddenly we were no longer in darkness, but a shower of light.

There was a sudden flickering of fire on torches encaging the wall. The fire had somehow appeared, but the space was nothing marvelous. The same tedious, threatening brown encompassed the area. Just a small secret room, with an even more secret person.

There were no hesitations, as she had taken the liberty to reveal herself to me immediately after leading us here. Abruptly, she placed the torch she held on the well and dropped her cloak, and I saw this Pulkinoan woman for the first time. I knew not of her identity, but by her form, I could tell she was middle aged, with creases above her brow. She was not ugly, however, yet overworked. Her brows were bushy and unkempt, while her hair hung over her shoulders a little tangled. She wore a piece of linen wrapped around her body, showing the darkened skins of her knees, as well as the definition of the muscles of her limbs.

"I am Emeline," she spoke with that low, hushed voice. As the sound of her discord echoed gracefully, infusing with the gentle hum of the fire crackling, this Emeline stepped closer to me. Her arms were placed cautiously at her sides, her gaze towards me relaxed, yet solemn.

I found myself leaning against the wall that had let us in as she approached me, the veins of my wrist pulsing nervously. Here I wondered what her true intentions were.

"Do not worry," she spoke to me. "I am not against you. I am a servant to the Great Fairy."

Even though I wasn't very amused, I chuckled, scratching my index finger at my forehead. "That doesn't sound like too much in my favor."

Oddly, she smiled while she shook her head slowly at me. I managed to relax myself, shoulders releasing from the tense hunch. "No, no. I am here to help you, sir."

"My name is Link."

"Link," she repeated, folding her fingers together. "Well, Link, like you, I was taken capture by the Great Fairy many years ago. My husband had heard the impossibility of seeing her, and so I went with him to find the Great Fairy. While he was executed, she kept me her prisoner."

"I apologize, Emeline," I said with remorse, extending my arm to rest my palm of her shoulder.

"Do not feel sorry for me," she continued, glancing at my hand. "We were young fools to make such a perilous venture. As I remain alive here, the Great Fairy sent the corpse of my husband to dwell within the cave that had led us to her. Sometimes I wish she had provided such mercy upon me. I have gained her trust over the years, and her requests of me are few. Yet, I am the only remaining woman in the Hidden Valley."

"Then why would you risk your trust with the queen to save me?" I inquired, releasing my grip on her shoulder and capturing her eyes with mine. "What are your intentions with me?"

"My intentions are sincere, Link," retorted Emeline, looking away from me as she began to peace steadily around the quiet room. "I would not have bothered to risk my own safety to rescue you if it were not for the young girl brought before the Great Fairy earlier."

"Victoria!" I announced too quickly, in which Emeline jumped at my sudden shriek. She stopped pacing and turned herself to face me once more, her brow lifting peculiarly. "That is her name? Are you her father?"

"No, I am not her father," I replied hastily, scurrying to her with my spine elongated and erect. "But I am everything she has right now. Please, tell me—what has happened to her? What has the queen done to her?"

I was so passionate that I didn't realize at first that I had taken both her hands, squeezing them desperately as I awaited her answer. Emeline sighed, however, appearing rather nervous now.

"The young girl, your Victoria," she began, "she was brought before the Great Fairy by the guards. She was sobbing, crying for the man that she had come with. When I saw the child, I envisioned myself. I was a young woman when I was seized. I did not want the same fate for such a small girl. But, before I could even think of devising a plan to save the girl, I saw a look of intrigue overtake my queen. She sat at her throne and looked at the girl with desire, and perhaps even jealousy. She looked at her, and there she became furious."

"Did she hurt her?" I whispered, squeezing her hands tighter.

"No, she did not." Her eyes were glossed with a row of tears now, ones she did not let escape. "But, she became enraged, accusing the young girl of treachery. It seemed as if she had known her before, that this child had belonged to her. The Great Fairy sentenced her to eternal lockdown within the castle, and that is when the guards took her away."

I was shaking my head now, letting go of her hands, and holding my palms up, staring at them, wishing I could have done something to protect her, saved her from the fate of the queen. And yet, at the same time, I felt betrayed. Imagine that—betrayal felt by a small child? As angry as I was at myself, I was angry at her as well. She did come from the queen, perhaps was even sent by her as well.

Yet, how terrible could her intentions have been, if she was crying for me, begging to be released?

I took in a deep breath, every muscle of my body tensing simultaneously. "Take me to her."

Emeline slowly nodded. "I will. But, not now. We must wait for the queen to fall asleep."

~oOo~

Flickering lights—blue, pink, and yellow—so many of them, dancing around me, a wonderful mesh of beauty and tranquility.

The room was large and serene. Not a speck of brown lingered in here, but instead was swept over with a blanket of blue frost. Goddesses, it was lovely. So beautiful, in fact, that I believed myself to feel at peace, warmed by the atmosphere.

There had to be millions of fairies in here, perhaps more. They surrounded the room, peacefully fluttering their wings, lighting up the area in the darkness of the night. Such a natural, beautiful light it was. And so familiar, painfully so. How I wished for so many years to embrace this light once more, as I had in another time, at another place, where there existed only one of me, and one of her.

Whatever risk we had taken was worth it, all of it. Just to see this spectacle of fairies buzzing silently through the night, decorating the room with their glow. Whatever deku I had to sneak past and fight, whatever complex route Emeline had to lead me through—every ounce of that trouble was worth it.

Yet, as Emeline stood beside me, she was not as awestruck at the scene as I was. She glared at it bleakly, the reflection of the fairies glittering in her eyes.

"Where is she?" I questioned her in a low whisper, becoming more eager to find the child.

I saw her chest lift as she took in a careful breath. "I will lead you to her. But you must stay quiet. You do not want the Great Fairy to find you here. If the fairies sense a disturbance, they will make a scene."

Like a mother, she took my hand, and led me past the fairies to the bed in the center of the chamber. I made sure to take careful footsteps on the grey coated stone floor, not daring to make a sound to disturb the peacefulness that lingered.

There was no echo, no sound of clatter from the fairies. Only complete silence consumed this chamber, even as we neared the bed, and I saw how large and magnificent it was. I left Emeline's side as I walked towards the bed, almost in a trance, admiring its perfection.

It must have been more than twice as large as the bed I shared with Malon, and ten times more luxurious. How I marveled at the silken blue sheets that fell from it, free from a wrinkle even as it hung delicately on the floor. But, the most beautiful part of the bed was not what decorated it, but the creature that lied in a slumber upon the cushion. Her hands clasped peacefully on her abdomen, while her chest rose and fell gently with each breath she took.

Victoria, my little Victoria. She seemed so at ease lying there, that I was reluctant to wake her. I felt my eyes tear as I continued to gaze at her, my head tilting the side, lips pressed together stiffly, while my fists involuntarily clenched.

Was she meant to be here? Was this where she belonged? Perhaps she was the queen's, and only hers, and she herself knew that. But, I did not want to believe it. Victoria could not be deceiving me. She loved me, I knew she did! I had to take her away from this madness.

"Victoria," I whispered to the girl, grappling both her shoulders to give her a gentle shake. She remained the way she was, however, breathing through her parted lips. I felt bothered now, wondering how she could be in such a deep sleep.

"Victoria," I grumbled again through clenched teeth, shaking her just a bit harder. When she made no response, I continued to rattle her, the action becoming more vigorous as it progressed. "Come on, Victoria. It's me—Link! Mr. Link. You're friend. Please wake-up, please."

My voice had grown to above a whisper, the tone at a risky level. Several of the fairies had migrated our way now, beginning to hover over the child's face, their light flickering over her smooth, dark skin. As much as I would have liked to believe that my interruption had woken her, I knew it was the light of the fairies, for after they encircled her, her eyes flung open. The blue was more intense than it had ever been, their hue stronger than the glow of the fairies, the luminosity more intense, more fierce.

She blinked at me once, and soon those large blue eyes were filled with tears. "Mr. Link!"

And when she threw her arms around me is when the ringing began.

It must have been coming from every single one of those fairies—the buzzing loud and ear-splitting. Immediately, Victoria and I covered our ears, seeing the little girl scrunch her face painfully at the noise.

"Mr. Link! Please, make it stop! Make it stop!"

I took Victoria in my arms, allowing her to throw her arms around my neck as best as she could, lifting her up and heading towards a very disgruntled Emeline. She would not let me explain to her, but instead hurried me along by pushing me forward, her brows knitted with concern.

"Hurry! We need to leave! We cannot stay here!"

Even as she shouted it was difficult to hear her. The fairies were making so much noise now that I could feel Victoria whimpering against my shoulder, her small body trembling. We moved hurriedly past the swarm of fairies, sprinting in the direction Emeline guided us. I could feel my heart pounding maddeningly against my chest, so ferociously I felt I was living the last moments of my life.

The exit was no near—goddesses, I could see the opening and how available it was. But I was blinded for a moment, we all were. Blinded by a strong burst of pure white light. It was so strong I could hearit, overpowering the ringing of the fairies, droning out even my own heartbeat.

It was a strong energy, sending all of us back, forcing us to land on the ground. Throughout all this, I held onto Victoria, refusing to release my grip on her as she, too, tightened her hold on me. Even though I could not see her, I could still feel her, smell her. She was with me at last, and no one would destroy that.

The light began to disintegrate, slowly, carefully, and as this happened, the fairies silenced. The chamber had turned as silent as it had been before the fairies had started their commotion. But there was something different now, very much so. No longer were the fairies pacing aimlessly about the room, but they all gathered to the same location. Right before us, they came and shaped themselves along the form of a woman. An old, withering woman, with at least ten deku guards behind her.

I would have been fooled that she was divine, for the fairies around her made her sparkle like a goddesses. The light of the chamber seemed to be coming only from her, with the rest of the vicinity clouded in darkness. Yet, her body was nothing that would represent a deity. She was not tall, but quite shorter than myself. Her skin was a battered brown, wrinkles creasing by her eyes. Yet, her gown was beautifully tailored, crafted of various layers all of the color white. She appeared as a bride almost, but no veil abided on her head, there was no joy in her. Her long, black hair was parted in the middle, free of tangles and all behind her shoulders. There was a simultaneous tranquility and disaster about her, and it terrified me. Neither smile nor frown embellished her mouth. Instead, her lips were pressed into a straight line, her grey eyes staring straight at me.

Carefully, she elongated her arm, extending her index finger directly towards me. Even as silk dangled from her sleeves, she was intimidating, and there I saw her eyes enlarge, a controlled anger seizing them.

"Where are you taking her?"

Her bellow was low and coarse, causing the fairies to stir at her rumble. I only held onto Victoria tighter, not answering the queen's inquiry.

Sparks of white magic began to glimmer from her finger tips, while she brought down her arms to her sides, straightening her back, her brows slanting over her eyes. She was frowning now, indeed she was—no, not frowning, but scowling. I could see the furious dimples form by her mouth, the creases pressed on her forehead.

"I said where are you taking her? What are you doing with her?"

When she stomped her foot, the fairies scurried away from her, surrounding the chamber once more, floating over our bodies, scrambling hectically across the room. She did not look so divine anymore, but appeared frail and weak. Yet, she retained her power over us, for I found myself unable to answer her.

But Victoria, she turned her head and looked at the queen directly, and as I looked down at her I squinted my eyes in confusion.

"He's taking me out of here and away from you!" I didn't know how to respond to the young girl's holler. I had never heard her scream with such vehemence, that her voice cracked and sounded so shaky that I believed she would burst into tears at any moment.

I knew it would anger the queen, but her fury changed once it was directed towards Victoria and not myself. She shook her head with disappointment, the sparks disappearing from her hands as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Are you ridiculing me, child?" asked the queen rather calmly. "You have escaped from me once, and it shan't happen again! You belong here, with me and only me!"

"I don't know who you are! I don't know this place! I am not yours!"

Victoria could say no more at that point, choosing to bury her face in my chest, her little hands clutching onto the fabric of my tunic. All I could do to relieve her was gently pat her back for a moment, but I was not sure of how I would save us from this one.

Holding the girl, I lifted the both of us up, while Emeline continued to sit and watch us with a look of anxiety stitched onto her face. She held onto her knees as she sat on the cold, stone floor, several fairies flickering around her, almost as if to protect her.

"Please, your majesty," I begged of the queen, my knees wobbling as I stood. "Let the child come with me. That is all I ask of you, not anything more."

She only laughed at my request, sounding her guards to more properly align themselves behind her. "So this is my latest foolish prisoner? I am quite impressed you made it thus far, even though it seems like you have been aided by one of my servants." She looked at Emeline, lowering her chins as her palms found her hips.

"But to be frank, the girl is mine. You will not take her from me. She belongs here and always will belong here. And you, my dear Emeline—I will sentence you to execution for your betrayal. You will be a miserable corpse alongside your husband."

I took in a deep breath, holding Victoria as compactly as I could. "No. I will not let you have her."

I had barely finished my remark before the deku behind the queen stampeded towards me. Goddesses, I hadn't had a chance to defend myself. My hold on Victoria prevented me to reach for my armor, and I was too focused on protecting her, embracing her as tightly as I could, smothering the child as they ambushed us and tried to pry her away from me.

They took Emeline, two deku seizing her while the rest focused on me. I tried to fight them off, tried as hard as I could without hurting Victoria. I felt her teeth sink into my shoulder, her little arms grappling my neck with all their might. Yet, even as hard as I attempted to protect her, they took her from me, yanking her away while they proceeded to beat me with their sticks.

I could hear them squabbling, snickering smugly to themselves as they got me to the floor, slamming their weapons over my back, hitting my shield. Perhaps it was the sound of the clamor of my armor that somehow alerted them that they were at a disadvantage. Before they could even respond to their own revelation, I had already rolled forward, taken my shield, and sprung onto my legs, lifting my brows towards them as I slid my hand behind my back and pulled out my sword.

It glistened marvelously, the blade shining from the light of the fairies, twinkling in the black beady eyes of the deku guards. And I held it proudly for a moment, lifting the rapier over my head, allowing it to sparkle tediously before I brought it down and allowed it to devour the wooden creatures.

I was testing the patience of the queen, for I caught glimpses of her standing where she had been since I had first seen her, her arms still wrapped over her chest while her fingers had begun tapping along her draped forearm. She was frowning heavily, the arch of her right brow twitching meticulously.

The chamber was filled with echoes of the shrills from the deku, so high-pitched and ear-piercing. And as I continued to slice through them, chips of wood showered in the air, bringing back the putrid color of brown that reminded me so much of the dungeons.

After I had triumphed over the deku who was tried to seize me, I turned to the ones holding onto Victoria—two of them, holding down the fiery girl who struggled to free herself from their grasp. I was ready to take them, to save her. But I forgot about a force much stronger than the deku residing in that very room.

"Enough!"

I could not react, for the magic hit my body so roughly that my sword escaped my hand and flew in the same direction of my body. It clanged onto the ground near me, after I landed stomach first on the cold stone floor. At the impact, I scrunched my face and released a painful yelp, trying to maneuver myself across the floor, to grab the handle of the sword before it was too late.

My fingertips grazed against the pommel of the blade, and In grunted, trying to sway it closer to me, using my hand to push myself up, my muscles weak and quivering from the blast of the queen's magic. Yet, just as my fingers had gripped the handle, I found myself heaving downwards back onto the ground, thrusted forward by a rough weight heaved onto my back.

"You think you are so clever, young man?" laughed that shrewd voice of the queen. I realized it was her that held me down, while she used more of her magic to send the sword to slide further away from me on the stone floor. I watched it leave me with wet eyes, my face flushed over with a fiery crimson.

I found myself resisting the weight of the queen and extending my arms behind me to help me up. And yet, even as I regained my balance, this Great Fairy seemed at ease, tapping her dark finger against her even darker mouth, nodding peculiarly at me.

I wanted to charge at her—to grab my sword and begin fighting this villainous woman. But I found myself holding back, seeing Emeline and Victoria captured by the deku, the queen standing casually before me as the fairies continued to orbit around the chamber.

Instead of reacting, I merely stood there, breathing heavily through my mouth, feeling droplets of sweat slither down my forehead, warming my skin.

"Tell me, why have you come here?"

I wondered how she could have asked me so casually, as if she truly did inquire the reason for my arrival. And perhaps this was the perfect time to mention my actual intentions. I was sure she would not grant them to me, but I hope she might allow me to know if my journey here was worthwhile.

"I am looking for an old friend."

Smugly, her brow rose. "A friend?" Shaking her head, she released both her arms, her palms flat. "Silly boy, there are nothing but my fairies and guards here! Whatever friend could you be looking for that you would foolishly lead yourself to the Hidden Valley?"

I knew she mocked me, but I could not give up hope. Slowly, I began to move backward, taking small, careful steps, clasping my hands behind my back.

"You see, your majesty," I spoke, grating my teeth over my bottom lip, "my friend is a fairy. I lost her many years ago. I was told that lost fairies come here, to you."

I heard the gentle clang of the sword as the back of my heel hit it slightly, and suddenly my shoulders tensed, heart racing. I had to take hold of it somehow, without directly alerting her of it.

The queen only scoffed at me, however. Elongating her fingers as she rested the knuckles of her hand underneath her chin. "Do you actually believe I am a Great Fairy?"

I shrugged. "Well, I know you were previously the queen of Pulkinoa, and your current position leaves you bitter."

I saw her scowl heavily at my comment. "Well, young sir, I am also not one of these Great Fairies. My scoundrel of a husband created the rumor to mock me. Truth be told, I despise this curse, and equally despise anyone who attempts to pay me visit because of it. I do not care for your poor lost friend."

I shivered at her words, a part of me withering inside. And I was so close to the sword, so very close! I needed to think quickly, find a means to grab the weapon while I had the queen distracted. Slowly, I knelt before her, clasping my hands together in a position of pleading.

"Please, I beg of you, your majesty," I tried to compromise, my chest aching from the vehement beating of my heart. "If you could just let me look for Navi, I would be most—"

"Navi?"

I moved my focus from the tiles of the floor back up to the old woman's face. My eyes grew wide with hopefulness. "Yes, Navi. You-you know her specifically?"

I remember the expression that captured the queen's face that moment perfectly—from the glisten in her eyes, to the softness of her cheeks. It was as if a sudden revelation had hit her, and everything that occurred before her made perfect sense, while I was left confused and desperate.

That look quickly vanished, however, when surprisingly the corners of her mouth tugged to form a mischievous grin, her brows slanting dramatically, eyes narrowing, the grey flickering from the light of the fairies.

"The Navi you know," she began carefully, turning her palms inward as she lifted her elbows, curving her arms while the white sparks returned to her fingertips,"is not here."

"Mr. Link!"

Seeing the blow of magic coming my way, I swiftly rolled over and grabbed the sword, Victoria's shriek echoing throughout the chamber seconds after she had screamed it. Holding the blade firmly, I faced the impact of light coming at me, and closing my eyes, swung at the approaching blast.

It all must have happened in less than a second—my leap to grab the sword, the impulse to slam the blade against the magic and hoping it would reflect back to her. I knew I had hit it, for I felt the light smash against the silvery blade, shaking my body and even the ground beneath me. And when I didn't feel myself hurled back, I opened my eyes, seeing the blast of light storming back to her.

The queen had expected to hit me, to knock me out entirely, so when her own magic suddenly came back to her, her lips parted to release a gasp, her arms crossing over her face an attempt to protect her before she could more properly react. It hit her strongly, sending the queen back, resulting in squeals from the deku guards.

A fierce light had consumed the room after the queen was struck, and at my temporary loss of vision, I held onto the sword firmly, taking a wide stance with my legs, knees bent as I took a deep breath in.

Slowly, the fog of the light diminished, and there lied the queen, on her back on the ground. For a silent moment, she sat still, not a flinch to her body. Yet, slowly, she began to move herself, lifting her back up, smacking her palms onto the floor, her hair rattled and flung forward, her breath so heavy the movement was exalted from her shoulders.

The chamber was noisy now—I could hear Emeline screaming, Victoria calling out to me. The deku were the loudest of all, making a noise through their wooden snouts that I had never heard from a deku before. It sounded like a call, a warning of some sort. But, I was too focused on the queen to have taken that sound into consideration.

Shaprly, she lifted her neck and glared at me, her eyes narrowed to tiny, menacing slits, lips pressed together so tightly they almost appeared sewn that way.

Steadily, her gaze never leaving me, the queen stood, her back straightened, her posture firm. And soon—almost as if the magic once again sprouting from her fingers had summoned it—more deku began to form behind her. An army aligning, filling her half of the chamber. Their appearance was so subtle, yet strikingly sudden. So many behind her, ready to attack, ready to fight, this time not with sticks, but carrying spears.

All she had to do was turn and and glance at her army, and that was all it took for them to stampede towards me, shrieking through their snouts.

The deku ambushed me. And even as I tried to attack each and every one that surrounded me, I still could not avoid the stabs of their spears, slicing across the skin of my back, ripping my tunic at my chest and shoulders. Yet, I noticed how wild their method of attack was—so instinctive and unrehearsed. While I remained quiet and concentrated, they were loud, their cries of war filling the entire chamber, rumbling the ground.

I spun my sword across, cutting through the wooden creatures. This method had been working, but more came to me, in vast amounts, and soon I began to feel overpowered. I continued to stab, duck, spin, and jump—but there were more, and more, and so many more. Even the fairies had scurried away from the violence, leaving me to battle in a solemn darkness.

"Link! Link! No! Mr. Link!"

Her voice stood apart from the clamor of the deku—so strong and vibrant. And before I could even comprehend it was Victoria's voice I was hearing, an eruption of blue light captured me, the sound of the explosion like nothing I have heard before.

I dropped my sword, I dropped myself. I landed on the floor, succumb to the light. And silence took over.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: The Truth

Once the light had disintegrated from the chamber, it took my eyes a moment to see clearly again. Wrinkling my nose, I rubbed at them with a clenched fist, slowly allowing the color to return to me.

They were all dead.

Every single deku killed in the magic burst. Closing my eyes shut, I reopened them again to make sure I was seeing things correctly. No longer was I surrounded by fighting deku, but dead ones. They remained lifeless on the ground around me, not a single movement to their wooden bodies.

"Link!"

I turned to my left, seeing Emeline—now freed from the guards—clumsily running past the bodies, tears streaming down her face, dribbling down as black ink on her cheeks. Her embrace was strong as she embraced me, her whole body trembling.

"What just happened?" she inquired, pulling herself away from me, but leaving her hands on my shoulders.

I couldn't answer her. But I knew, I knew what had happened. I looked where Victoria had been seized, my eyes glassy, brows firm, and I saw the child, saw her on her knees, her white dress wrinkled, her hands in tiny fists as they rested on her lap.

Her name spilled from my lips as I rushed to her, Emeline following me. I lifted the girl and embraced her in my arms, holding her more tenderly than I would my own daughters. In my embrace, she felt stiff, not a single quiver to her, or sign that she was even breathing. I examined the child, looked into her eyes, the blue bright and vibrant, glossed over with a coat of tears.

I wasn't going to question her this time—I didn't care whether she was lying to me or not, or how she released all that power. I just thanked the goddesses that she was alright, that I could take her away from this all this madness.

"My…my servants…"

No…no. Her blast had only knocked out the deku! I should had realized that upon seeing that the rest of us were still well. Almost simultaneously, my and Emeline's necks snapped towards the direction of the noise. There knelt the queen, many of her fairies around her, comforting her in her loss. Her brown fingers trickled over the body of one of her deku, her head shaking steadily, lips sewn together almost painfully. Then, she caught our gazes, her brows furrowing with rage, a deep dimple dressed on her cheek while her forehead creased in a multitude of wrinkles.

I was ready to defend myself, to protect us all. But it was not me who she focused on, but the child in my arms. The hem of her long dress swayed as she swiftly stood up, while her nostrils flared. She raised one finger, pointing it at Victoria.

"You little wench!" she roared, as Victoria looked over at the old woman with fright, grabbing the collar of my tunic timidly.

"You destroyed all of my servants! Now I have nothing, nothing at all! Nothing to protect me. I am alone now, with these wretched fairies!"

Her voice cracked as she finished her final word, and as she collapsed before my eyes, I felt a sense of sympathy for the queen. She truly was alone, more than ever now. Trapped with this curse, to forever live this way. I saw her desire to keep Victoria here grow stronger, her watery eyes glaring at the girl, wanting to have her for herself.

She trudged towards us now, clutching at her dress to allow her feet to move through the deku that lied on the ground. Wanting to grab my sword, I stood swiftly and handed Victoria to Emeline, running towards the silvery blade before the queen caught up. Clutching the handle, I brought the sword up to my chest, holding it with both hands.

I didn't even see her create the sphere of magic, being taken aback as I was suddenly hit by a blinding white light. I could hear the screams of the girls as the blast sent me harshly down onto the ground, falling on top of several deku, hearing the floor crack beneath me.

My vision blurry, my bones sore—but I still held onto that sword firmly, forcing myself up, a groan stifled in my throat. There was a wide stance between the both of us, her whole body highlighted by her own magic, the fairies fleeing behind her, allowing her side of the chamber to be filled with light while the darkness soaked into my skin.

I saw her lift her arms over her head, her fingers curled and solid as she created yet another giant orb, sparks encircling the glowing piece of magic. My eyes widened as I glared at it, my fingers positioning on the sword's handle, ready for the blow she would be sending my way.

As the magic came hurling at me, I found myself in another place, at another time…one that did not exist in this world, something that had never happened, and yet again it did.

I was in Ganondorf's castle, sword gripped the same way, legs positioned in the same stance. Above me flew the King of the Gerudo, his cape flowing in the air, a smile plastered on his black lips.

I realized I had closed my eyes, envisioning this familiar scene, and when the orb came to me, I hit it with the same vigor I had during my fight with Ganondorf. The moment I felt the intense vibration of the sword, I opened my eyes, and too quickly did I see the orb flinging my way once more.

I hit the orb again, and as it reflected back to the queen, I saw her grab it this time. She held the sphere of magic in her palms, eying me carefully, I prepared myself when she brought it above her head again, but I did not expect her to throw the orb down onto the stone floor.

I knew she was trying to distract me, and for a brief moment I was—by the tremor of the ground, the shrieks of Victoria and Emeline. I could even hear the ground cracking beneath me, the tumultuous ringing of the fairies beginning again. But, I could not let her delays defeat me. I held my sword, scrunched my face, and charged towards the queen.

My thighs burned as I ran, droplets of sweat spewing down my cheek and neck, struggling through the mass of deku bodies until I reached the queen.

I threw my sword to stab her, but she blocked the blow with a shield of her magic. I flung it again, trying to hit her abdomen, but she swiftly moved her arms, blocking the attack. She was using her power as a sword, partaking in this duel with me.

Every maneuver I tried, she dodged with her magic, the light glowing on her palms and sounding like metal whenever I hit it. As I persisted to fight her, a growl hummed in my throat, my veins throbbing in my wrists. I saw her grow tired, but she was too involved, could not allow me to defeat her. Yet, in her attempts to block my blade, the sword slashed at her shoulder, forcing a howling wail to escape her mouth, blood quickly staining her satin dress as a deep, dark brown.

I caught her in a moment of weakness, however. It had nothing to do with the cut on her arm, or the intensity of the fight. After I had struck her, our eyes locked for the smallest of moments. It was so quick, yet I remember it fully. How her eyes glistened with an eternal sadness I had never seen before, her brows pushed in agony.

I knew she could have blocked my final strike, very easily in fact. But, she did not. As I shoved the short straight into her stomach, she released a sharp, stifling gasp, allowing her arms by her sides, relaxing her fingers so that the magic was gone. I hesitated to pull the sword out from her for a moment, too horrified by the vast widening of her eyes, the shocking expression on her face.

When I pulled the sword out of her, she exhaled deeply, and I saw the blade coated crimson, her blood trickling carefully down the silvery metal. I quickly dropped it, however, focusing my attention at her. I saw her dress soak with blood, while she clutched at her stomach, falling down to her knees, choking and gasping, the sound coming out as a desperate croak.

I couldn't believe what I had done, falling down to help her if I could. I embraced her cheek, but she did not rest herself upon my hand, but remained stiff, her eyes wide and staring into mine. She tried to breath, but only continued to choke. Releasing her hands, she revealed the blood that stained her palms, and that moment I felt my heart beat quicken, the pounding pulsating throughout my entire body.

It was evident now that she was dying before me, and with remorse I rested my hands on her shoulders, feeling her blood slither between my fingers. Slowly, I placed her down onto her back, her body lying upon those of her deku servants.

No longer did she gasp for breath, but stared up at me silently, her eyes sinking in to the back of her head. Her final gesture was a simple one, but it haunted me for quite some time. Gently, the queen smiled at me, a tear sliding down her cheek before her body fell completely limp.

I stared at her for a long moment after I stood up, lingering over her body. But with her death came something remarkable.

That white magic—it illuminated from her body. It began as a small glimmer, igniting from her wound. But it grew rapidly, devouring her entire form before it engulfed all of the chamber. When it vanished, as did the bodies of the deku. And that of the queen.

The chamber was empty—gone of any evidence that there had been a rumble in there. Hastily, I looked down at my sword, and saw the blade glisten proudly, not a speck of blood on it. How did this happen? Where did all the bodies vanish to? I lingered a moment as I knelt down to take the sword, staring the intimidating blade, at my own silvery reflection.

"Link!"

Emeline's voice echoed powerfully in the chambers, and as I stood I saw her approach me, carrying Victoria on her back as several of the fairies followed them.

"What just happened? Where is the queen?"

I wanted to answer her inquiries but I was just as confused as she was. As she released Victoria to stand on the ground, I turned and looked down at the spot where the queen had been slain.

"The curse," I spoke after a long pause. Returning my focus back on Emeline, I saw a hint of confusion to her expression.

"She was cursed for all eternity," I carried on, slipping the sword back in its sheath behind my back. "The king was cursed, and all of Pulkinoa. But all it took was her death to end it."

"You mean…the curse upon the women is now gone?"

I nodded, kneeling down to peak at Victoria, extending my arms out as a smile captured my face. The child giggled happily as she accepted my invitation and lept into my arms.

"Yes, the curse is gone!" I bellowed merrily, smoothing my palm along the child's hair. Gently pushing her away, I held onto her shoulders, tilting my chin downwards as I grabbed the attention of her eyes. "That means whatever spell the Great Fairy put on you is gone too, Victoria. So you must remember who you are now and where your parents are."

I wanted to see her grin blithely, to spill a grand confession of her sudden gain of memory. Yet, as I saw her pout her lip in defeat, her shoulders slouching, my smile began to fade, and I let go of her shoulders, shaking my head slowly.

"You still don't know?" I inquired softly, and at that she nodded.

The mysterious girl became an even bigger enigma to be, and as I stared at her that instant, I had so many more inquires of her, questions I needed answered. She didn't make sense to me, and yet, at that point, it did not matter anymore. Instead of questioning her further, I sighed softly, taking her in another hug.

As I felt something poke at my head, I looked up to see a little bulb of yellow light buzzing over me.

"You're the one who killed the Great Fairy!" its little voice chimed.

Nervously, I gulped. "Yes, I suppose I did."

"We don't know what to do now. Without the Great Fairy, we are lost. And when fairies wander, no one knows what happens to them."

Sitting on my bum, I folded my legs comfortably, my back slouched as I watched the little creature fly above my head. "Well, there are plenty of places you all can go. There are other Great Fairies out there, and people who are always looking to catch fairies."

"Well, only one fairy I can think of escaped a long time ago. The Great Fairy was furious when she left. No one knows what became of her."

This sparked my interest. "What was this fairy's name?" I asked, rubbing my fingers at the nape of my neck.

As the fairy pondered on this, she flew about my head, twirling in the air before she rested on my nose.

"I believe her name was Navi."

I sneezed, and the fairy hopped off of me. "Navi?" I repeated. "You mean, she truly was here once?"

"Yes, but not for long. She hated it here. She missed her friend, but said it was not right for her to see him again. So she left with no clear path. I wonder if she ever did find him."

I didn't know what exactly to feel about this revelation. My initial reaction was betrayal. The goddesses had shown me Navi in my dreams, teased me with promises to see her again. And yet, on this journey, I was not given anything that I desired from my former life. I journeyed to Pulkinoa and learned truths I wished I never knew, saved a foreign land from a terrible curse, and met a child who had no memory. I envied her slightly, wishing I could be free of such burden as well. But I believed I saved her from something she wished not to remember, as she saved me from mine.

I smiled at Victoria, and glancing over at Emeline, I shared my exuberance with her. As I stood, I stretched my arms over my head. There was one final thing I had to do in the Hidden Valley before I departed.

Reaching into my sack, I pulled out the small bottle King Shahin had given me, and nodding towards the little yellow sprite, I opened the bottle, allowing her to fly inside before sealing it once more.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: The King's Farewell

Emeline was free, the fairies were free—the Hidden Valley was filled with beauty and color again. The corpses in the cave were put to a peaceful rest, and only I knew the extent of this knowledge.

I was not sure what to expect when I arrived back at the palace with Victoria. The servants were very surpised to see that I had returned alive, and there seemed to be a commotion at the castle, for they hurried us inside quickly. We were led to the king's bed chamber, and there in that very room that Shahin had gotten me quite drunk in lied the man himself.

He was on his bed, surrounded by four of his mistresses—young, beautiful Pulkinoan women with long black hair. With harem pants and exposed bellies, they knelt by his bedside quietly. I heard no sobbing or sniffling from them, and when I came closer to the bed, I noticed that they merely gazed at him in wonderment, perhaps not quite sure of how exactly to feel at such a predicament.

They heard Victoria and me approach them, and turning around with interest took a glance at us. Their faces were decorated with dark make-up, brown coating their lips and black outlining their eyes. They looked at us only momentarily before parting to allow us room to see the king.

His bed was large and luxurious, but Shahin looked less than comfortable lying in it. He wore a thin red night robe, his black hair exposed and free of any covering. As he coughed heavily, his palms rested upon his rounded belly, his cheeks flushed a deep, red crimson.

Victoria pressed her nose against the sheets, her fingers clutching at the silken fabric while her blue eyes peered with curiosity at the dying king. I, however, stood firmly over his bed, staring down at him, my sack held proudly in my palms near my chest.

It was a short, quiet moment, but it was also one that would change Pulkinoa for eternity. The king opened his eyes, and at first he merely grazed over my appearance. Oh, but how wide his eyes enlarged when he looked at me more closely, and realized that it was the boy whom he sent after for the Great Fairy, here before him alive and well.

The expression of fear and realization that struck his face was one I would always remember. I saw the color fade from his cheeks, his pupils broadening until his eyes looked nearly black. Silently, I withdrew from my sack the bottle he had given me, and held it before him. It glowed a tender gold, as the little fairy inside hovered within daintily.

He knew all too well what was to become of him, why he had suddenly gotten so gravely ill. I conquered—I brought back the fairy. The curse was broken and now he, too, would be ending his overly long life endured through magic.

I was there when he took his last breath—just a single quick gasp before his eyes set in and the muscles of his face relaxed. And for a while after that moment, I continued to hold the bottle over his body, the hue of the gold flashing over his face, his limp eyes reflecting the fluttering wings of the tiny fairy.

~oOo~

"Have you heard? Pulkinoa is without a king!"

"It must be a blessing then, because I have heard that at least ten women have given birth to boys within the past day!"

The streets of Pulkinoa were vibrant the day that we returned. After the passing of the kings and news of an abundance of male births, celebrations began in the kingdom, and I was honored as a hero.

I enjoyed the festivities and wine, the honor that was placed before me. To Pulkinoa, I was the man who came to their kingdom and freed them from their curse. Happiness was at last granted to them, and this would no more be a forsaken land.

I felt like a hero again, that I had fulfilled what was part of my destiny—not as a farmer, but an adventurer. And when the royal council gave me the offer to be king of Pulkinoa, I declined them.

What an offer to bestow upon me! A ruler of an entire kingdom! But I needed to refuse. Throughout this entire journey, I realized how much I had left behind. I had a family at the ranch, one who I missed dearly. I wanted it back, and yet another part of me yearned to continue down this path of bravery.

One mustn't look for trouble, I realized. I came to Pulkinoa unknowing of the circumstances here. For selfish reasons I arrived, and accomplished something that I hadn't intended too. Morally, I was not a hero. I was a selfish man, led here by selfish means. And even then, I continued to feel selfish. I wanted my family, I wanted to have everything I ever wanted.

I could not have my fairy, I knew that. But I wanted to have my princess.

~oOo~

Victoria giggled as she moved her palms along Epona's hair, but my attention was on the dark haired beauty standing in front of me.

She was dressed not in her dancing costume, but in a black cloth dress, her hair thrown over her shoulder, eyelashes long and fluttering. I had forgotten how beautiful she was, how large her almond shaped eyes were. But I had not come here for her, nor for just my horse. I had other intentions, and she very well knew them.

"The hero of Pulkinoa," she spoke, nodding steadily, grazing her knuckles against the stone of her home. "Thank you for everything you have done."

"Adara," I spoke, a bit hesitantly, taking her hand with both of mine. She glanced down at my action before bringing her gaze back to me. "I know I said I wasn't sure before, but I'm sure now."

She blinked. "You have not found your fairy friend?"

"No. I haven't."

Sighing, the woman looked over at Victoria, who stared at us curiously now while she rubbed at her nose. She pulled her hand away from mine, then motioned with her head to follow her inside.

"Come. All we need is here."

The sun was setting already, the sky and clouds painted a swirl of pink and yellow. As we walked inside, Victoria took my hand, Adara leading us to a space on the floor, pushing aside several books and laying place a blue colored veil.

As directed by her, I sat down on the veil. I was there for several minutes I believe, for it took Adara a while to return, holding the large book she had shown me during our last visit. Hastily, she sat down beside me, folding her legs over each other while slamming the book down between us.

"Lay yourself down."

I felt a vein in my neck begin to twitch at her command, and slowly I obeyed her, shifting my weight as I placed my head and back onto the floor. Looking up, I saw the faces of Adara and Victoria staring down at me.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Link?" asked the woman cautiously. "I promise, nothing will happen that will hinder time itself. I am very careful with black magic." She smiled down at me, tracing the tips of her fingers over my cheek delicately. "It will take your inner being and bring you to your princess. All you must do is think of her."

"Yes. I am sure. Take me to her."

Tugging at my sleeve, Victoria pouted at this. "Mr. Link, where are you going? Can I come with?" I couldn't help but smile at her squeaky voice, slightly shaking my head.

"You can't come with me, but I will still be here for you. Don't worry. I will be right here, but asleep."

When I felt warm fingertips touch my forehead, I turned my neck back forward, my vision seeing nothing but the grey of the ceiling and the sensual deep brown of Adara's arm.

"Close your eyes, Link," spoke the dancer. "Close your eyes and envision where it is you belong. Close your eyes, and I will take you to her. You will feel the magic take over your body, capturing your spirit and taking you there."

As I closed my eyes, I began to hear Adara hum lowly, a string of exotic words spilling from her lips. Trying not to focus on her spell, I instead envisioned myself where I needed to be—with my princess, in another place, in another time.

Not here, not in this world. Across another existence, where I was not a part of.

I felt it in my veins—her magic, black magic. The sensation began in my wrists, then spewing all over my body. It tingled everywhere, from my toes to the tip of my nose—it felt incredible, so electrifyingly intense. My body began to shake from the experience, my knees trembling, muscles in my arms pulsating.

As this occurred, Adara's voice grew more faint, and all I could do was feel the power of the magic devour me.

And then—almost too quickly—the sensation ended. I was left with my eyes closed, my body numb, feeling unaware of my position or placement. Was I still with Adara? Did the spell work? Or was I in a dream, too afraid to open my eyes and wake up?

Slowly, I forced open my eyes, lifting my lids as carefully as I could, but just as quickly as I opened them, I brought them back down. The light—it was so intense. No longer was I greeted by the darkness of Adara's home. No, wherever I was, it was vibrant, it was daylight. I was too excited now—I could not keep my eyes closed any longer!

I pried them open this time, squinting at the swarm of hue that greeted me.

A bed chamber. A beautiful, gloriously decorated, royal bed chamber. And I myself was not lying down, but standing—standing boldly and strong.

And I was standing before an icon of the Triforce and goddesses—a large, wonderful sculpture carved out of pure gold. But I was not alone. No, but there was a body knelt in prayer before it. This body was petite and small. Long blonde hair adorned this body, shining splendidly from the light of the day.

And this body turned around, and I and this body gazed at one another.

This body was a woman, a woman I had known before. And I was the man she had sent away from her.

A look of absolute bewilderment obscured her face, while her cheeks paled before me, losing their natural rosiness. The blue in her eyes sparkled with majesty, and we stood this way, staring at the other, neither of us truly knowing if any of this was real.

But I desperately wanted to believe it was.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: The Princess of the Other Time

Every piece of her, every part that made her—all was perfect. All beautiful.

Even her fear was radiant, glowing a fierce spark from her eyes, the blue in them trembling as a delicate drizzle of rain. And I saw the droplets form near her eyelashes, lingering on the tips before leaving the haven of her eyes to trickle down her porcelain cheek. Such a beautiful sight, such perfection.

Everything beautiful, everything I always dreamed of.

And I wondered if seeing her was a dream—that Adara had trapped me within the realm of my own desires, to convince me that what I witnessed was reality, instead of the false sweetness that was my thoughts.

But there was something about her-the gentle creases above her brow, her darkened lips, as well as an aura to her that suggested the beginning of her graceful aging. She was older, more mature. It seemed that as twelve years had passed in my own world, the same time had gone here as well.

This was a Zelda who was nearly thirty years old, a fully grown woman. And yet, her perfection continued to stun me. I did not know the expression I kept on my face as I stared at her. Perhaps it matched the amazement and fear shown on hers. I felt my body still, unable to flinch, to move closer to her.

She had been knelt in delicate prayer, but at my sight her shoulders lifted, contracting in a frightened hunch. For a long moment, she stared at me, bewilderment gleaming in the blue of her eyes. Yet, she did not move to hide from me, scream in terror or fear. Her fright stemmed not from horror, but of shock and disbelief. I saw her blink her eyes several times, as if to envision me away, that my presence was only an allusion. But the more she blinked, it seemed the more she saw me, all of me, every part that made me real.

Her chambers were decorated primarily with the color crimson—a deep shade, matching the hue of fresh blood. From her bed sheets, to the silk curtains covering her windows. So very much unlike the flowery shades of pink that had used to compliment her. And even now, as she knelt before the icons, the dress she wore was crimson, a mournful crimson. Beautiful it was, yet it suggested much more than the attire of a queen.

Long, flowing hair, falling pasts her back, coils of blonde curled in front of her shoulders, complimenting the pale creamy flesh of her face, the natural blush to her cheeks. She wore the same diadem on her forehead, just as I remembered. Just as she was the last time I had seen her.

Goddesses, her beauty stunned me so terribly that I could not speak! A thousand words trickled at the bottom of my tongue, begging to be spilled, and yet those words became afraid—afraid that they might say something not worthy of her ears. What could I possibly say to her? After years of my disappearance, my tiny words could do no justice.

There was a strange golden glow growing in the spacious room, one that had not immediately caught my attention. And it was that glow that allowed me to finally focus on the occurrence, as I looked down at my body and saw that the light was coming from my own body. Lifting my arm, my eyes squinted in slight pain as I stared at my hand, and though I glanced for only a second, I could see my golden form.

My eyes shifted quickly, as suddenly I regained my composure, mustering up every particle of courage within me, and clenched my fists by my sides, pursing my lips while I directly stared at Zelda. She remained on the ground, holding herself now, the tremble to her body apparent. And when I widened my eyes with determination, I saw her hold herself tighter, as she began to slowly shake her head.

"No," I heard her whisper gently, the sound of her voice a beautiful hum. "It...it can't be."

I came to her slowly, my heart beating maddeningly within my chest, the veins in my wrists pulsing so fiercely I felt that they would shatter. As I approached, I saw her hold her knees against her chest, not caring of the wrinkling of the expensive fabric. She was afraid, as was I.

Our distance from each other short, and as I stood over her body, I looked down at her apprehensively, watching her stare at me with big eyes, seeing her tear from her refusal to blink or squint from the light of my body that hit her.

Her lips were parted, short breaths fleeing past her mouth. Her voice was just as breathy. "Link...?" She spoke with uncertainty.

And there I extended my arm, a warm yet heartbreaking smile consuming my face. Before I was even aware, Zelda took my hand, lifting herself up and into my arms.

She felt finer than silk—softer, smoother. Goddesses, I held her as close to me as I could, feeling her face against my shoulder, her tears staining my tunic. Her embrace was powerful, yet simultaneously weak—as if she were a child, clinging onto something she knew she could not have, but desperately wanted.

The more we embraced, the more I felt her quiver, as she began to realize how real I was, that I was flesh and bone just as her. Her hands began to travel, as I felt her palms sliding along my back, then traveling upwards hastily to grasp my shoulders. It was hear when she pulled herself away from me, her slender gloved fingers remaining straddled by my neck, her eyes large while she stared up at me, her head still shaking.

"Link," she spoke, her face crunching in sudden anguish. "It can't be you." Painful dimples indented her cheeks while her voice cracked from the tears she held in. Letting go of me, she clutched her palms to her face, her body almost becoming smaller as she released more tears into her hands. "It just can't..." She turned her back to me.

It pained me to see her so miserable at my sight, but I understood her agony. For years, I had been nothing but a memory to her, as she had been for me. And here I was, magically appearing to her, my body almost angelic. She must have believed she was going mad. But I needed to convince her that it truly was me she was seeing, that I was the boy who saved Hyrule from turmoil those years ago.

"Zelda."

Her body stiffened at my voice. It was the first time I had spoken since my arrival, and my direct address of her had stunned her for a moment. I kept my posture firm and forward as I watched her carefully turn to face me once more. She had lowered her arms to lie carefully by her hips, as her face was still moist from her tears, yet her eyed glistened with a new glimmer of hope.

And when our eyes met, a thick breath fled my nostrils, and there my shoulders relaxed, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. I saw the glow my my body warmly hit her face as I extended my arm to her, the light illuminating from the tips of my fingers. She looked from my hand, then back to my face, her eyes growing larger, the blue in them trembling as thundering waves of an ocean.

"It's me," I spoke to her gently, feeling a tremendous warmth overcome me. "I'm here."

I watched her face crunch up again, but this time there was an overwhelming bliss to her expression. More tears released from her eyes as she took my hand and embraced my fingers hungrily, pressing my palm against her cheek, allowing me to feel the beautiful wet warmth that excreted from her eyes.

"Goddesses," she choked, continuing to hold capture of my arm. "How is this possible? How did you find me?"

I felt a lump form in my throat at her inquiry, my mouth suddenly becoming dry. I did not want to burden her with the knowledge of my arrival, and yet, selfishly, I did not want her to know about my marriage. I feared she would not look at me as the man she had sent back. For, I was not that same confused boy she had returned. I was a married man, a father. And throughout my entire journey—or better yet, my whole life—this was my single defining moment. Everything that I had accomplished somehow led to this: to finally see my princess again, the one I had been dreaming about for all these years.

I did not tell her how I came to her time, despite her agonizing curiosity. I informed her not of my life, my marriage, my children, or the adventure that had led me to her. I told her nothing, except that I placed my other palm on her opposing cheek, lifting her face to gain better access to her eyes. And there, I confessed the contents of my heart to her.

"I will not be here for long. I don't know when I will be taken back." I trembled as the words spilled from my mouth, tears stinging my eyes as they began to trickle slowly down my cheeks. At the sight of my cry, she, too, began to whimper, and I could feel her tears wet my fingers, her eyes squinting in blissful sorrow as I continued to speak to her in an unsteady voice.

"I need you to know, though," I said to her, my hold on her face more compact, my voice cracking desperately despite my efforts to remain as calm as I could, yet the more I spoke, the more passionate I became.

"I just want you to know," I began again, unable to keep my emotions under control any longer, "that all this time, I have dreamed of you. And I cannot accept you as only a memory, or a figment of something that may or may not be real."

Her face became a mess of tears, and mine had as well. She chocked a cry at my words, as I lifted her face closer to mine, feeling her breath warm me, able to smell the sensuous fragrance of her body.

"I have dreamed of you, Zelda." My voice was hushed now, almost a whisper consumed by our heavy breathing. "For so long, I've envisioned you in my mind. And I need to say that I love you, and only you. And when I go back, it will still be you that I love, and you that I will continue to dream of. Since you have sent me back, my mind has filled with thoughts of you that have been with me even as a child. And forever, they will be with me."

There was no hesitation, no careful transitions. The moment the last word fell from my lips, we took each other in a kiss that felt like nothing I had ever experienced before. Zelda had thrown her arms around my neck, while I continued to hold her face, pushing her against me as compactly as I could. This was a kiss unlike any I had ever experienced—not one of lust. She was not woman, she was Zelda. Not woman and man but Zelda and Link—I kissed her with a mouth bleeding of affection, lips gliding and tasting the beauty that leaked from her. Heavily, we kissed, a passion I had held within me for too long immediately erupting. And suddenly, all the sorrow from my life vanished.

The most beautiful moment of my existence ended too quickly from me. It was a slow departure, our mouths pulling away gently, my lips feeling wonderfully swollen. The beauty of Zelda shone even brighter as she stood before me with reddened cheeks, her lips parted as she gracefully moved her fingers through her hair, placing several strands behind her ear.

Her face was still wet, her eyes glistening. "Since that day, when I returned you to your time," she said to me, "there has not been a day that has passed where I have not thought about you." I could see her emotions beginning to rattle up once again, yet I noticed her ability to control them this time.

She placed her palm at her chest, near her heart. "I was certain at first that I had made the right decision," she continued with a shaky voice, lowering her eyes to the ground. "Yet, as time passed and I grew wiser, I wondered if my choice was indeed well made."

She lifted her gaze back to me, and here I did not know how to respond to her. Her choice to send me back did have its consequences—good ones, and yet equally horrible ones. Should I have told her about the decision of her father to make war with the Gerudo, relinquishing the race? Or, of my dreams of Ganondorf's return and obtainment of the Triforce in the world I lived in? How would she feel if I described to her the person she was in my time—someone who would lie to me to protect the dignity of her kingdom?

Yet, even here, her kingdom was important to her. She wanted to believe she had done the right thing—that she made the choice that would prevent the damage Ganondorf did to Hyrule, and the choice that would allow me to gain the years of my youth that I had lost, and live them without her.

I could not tell her the complete truth, because it would break her. But it was not her fault.

"You made the right choice," I said to her, taking her hand and bringing her knuckles to my lips. "Hyrule was spared from Ganondorf's destruction. You made the right choice, Princess."

I saw true happiness in her eyes as she smiled, yet that blithe was mixed with the simultaneous despair she felt, still tormented yet in awe of my sight. "I promise," she spoke to me in a tearful tone, stroking my cheek with her palm, "that you're legend will live here forever, Link. No one will ever forget about you. I promise you."

She took in a deep breath, her chest rising and dropping gently as she exhaled. "I love you."

We kissed again, with the same passion and heartache as before. I tasted the inside of her mouth, drank the agony and satisfaction that resided there. The tenderness of her lips, the salty tinge of her tears—I took in all of her, to forever have all of her.

As we embraced, I felt a change in my body. I opened my eyes to find the light emitting from me to be stronger, more intense, and soon I could not feel her mouth against mine anymore. Zelda, too, felt the difference, and took a quick step back as she witnessed the transformation.

My body was disintegrating into pure light, beginning from my legs, traveling up my body to claim the rest of it. The was no sound, no wind or rustle. It was the calmness of the light, taking me away. And she watched me with sad eyes, trying to smile, yet I saw the curiosity that remained in her.

"Go home, Link," she whispered to me, the last thing I heard from her before I vanished. She stood silently, her arms resting at her sides. "Home... Where you are supposed to be...the way you are supposed to be..."

The final moment I caught a glimpse of was a tear slipping down her cheek, as well as a tender smile on her lips.

~oOo~

"He's waking up!"

Blotches of black blurred my vision for a moment as I opened my eyes. A hum buzzed in my throat as I attempted to lift myself up, yet could not find the strength to do so. Slowly, my sight returned to me, and I was startled to find two dark skinned faces staring down at me.

"Mr. Link!" Victoria beamed, a smile sewn on her face as she threw herself onto me and hugged he excitedly.

Patting the little girl's back, I managed to lift myself up, sitting on the floor of Adara's home, scratching at my head peculiarly as I glanced about the room, my heart beating rapidly, pounding at my chest.

Victoria remained on my lap, hugging me graciously, while I sat there rather dumbfounded, trying to recollect all my thoughts, wondering whether I had woken up from a dream or that the situation I imagined was in fact very real.

My body tingled all over, the hairs of my nape raising as a chill took over me. My mouth felt swollen and puckered, as well as the smell of a perfume lodged within my nostrils.

And then, I saw Adara, her large almond eyes capturing mine. She asked no questions of me, inquired not if the spell worked, or curiosity of my experience. She simply smiled at me, hair falling in front of her face, brows lifted in an expecting manner, and I returned the gesture. And there, she seemed to know that her magic was successful.

This was where my journey in Pulkinoa ended. And at its halt, I felt at ease with myself, with the life I had lived, with everything I had overcome.

And once it was all over, I felt a new overwhelming feeling—I wanted to see my family again—to hold my daughters, make amends with my wife. I wanted to leave and take back the life I had ran away from.

I wanted to leave, but I did not want to let go of Victoria.

I did not find the friend I had been looking for, but I did find a child who had no one to take care of her. I was the only one she trusted.

Adara and I agreed that she would take the girl in, and keep her as a daughter. But Victoria did not want to stay in Pulkinoa without me. And to be honest, I did not want to leave Pulkinoa without her.

Perhaps the decision to take Victoria with me was a selfish one. She possessed a magic in her that still had me baffled, and it protected me from getting lost in the forest. I wanted to keep her, to protect her. Perhaps she would make my daughters jealous, my wife even more. But I could not abandon her. She had become a part of me.

To the Pulkinoans, I would be remembered as a hero, the man who relinquished them of a spell, who denied their throne, and left just as mysteriously as he came. To Adara, I would be remembered as the man whose tale of love and time paradoxes astounded her, whose dreams she allowed to come true for only such a short time—the man who saved her kingdom. A hero.

The sky was dark when we left Pulkinoa. As the two of us saddled onto Epona, we left the wondrous kingdom like thieves in the night. Never to return or see anything that resembled traits of their distinct culture.

And as we entered the forest, I thought of my princess, and the few moments I shared with her. Such a short moment it was, and in that time I did not tell her the complete truth of what her choice had resulted in. Yet, I knew that her action stemmed from a personal hope, to save the lives of those who Ganondorf killed, and to grant me the opportunity to live the life that was taken from me.

I felt a gentle fulfillment clutch at my chest, allowing a smile to capture my face and the warmth spread to my heart.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: The Lost Friend

The wishes of the divine did not always match the desires of man.

The goddesses had used me my entire life, leading me in different paths, directing me with no specific reasons. Their summonings, I would follow blindly. Never asked, never inquired, but always wondered...Why me? What was so special about me?

Everything that happened to me was planned by the goddesses. And sometimes they did not warn me. And this was one of the final instances in my life. Where it all ended, and the goddesses revealed it to me moments before I took my last breath as a man.

It was a revelation so simple, so heart-wrenching and carefully placed. The goddesses stunned me with their work, their mercilessly perfect maneuver.

It was the third time I found myself wandering the Lost Woods, a mistake I kept promising myself I would never make again. Yet, I had a guide with me. A beautiful guide. She seemed so ordinary as she sat on the horse, her back nestled upon my abdomen, the hair from atop her head brushing underneath my chin.

I remember warmth, perfect warmth, a fire burning in the pit of my belly. I felt such a beautiful sense of fulfillment that nothing could conquer. And yet, even as fulfilled as I did feel, there lurked an emptiness, hovering over my chest, reminding me of my bitter failure.

Every step Epona took echoed in my mind, reverberating as a deadly stricken sound. Such loud trudges she took, slow and heaving. And Victoria would direct, pointing her short finger to lead us, as the winds would rustle the leaves whenever she spoke.

This kept along for a day and night, stopping to eat, and for sleep. But that night, as Victoria slept against my body, our backs pushed onto the trunk of a tree, I recall the last sight I took before closing my eyes, staring up into the bush of leaves clinging onto the bark. They looked black in the darkness, a bleeding black. And while my eyes trembled tiredly, a leaf fell from the tree—not fell, not floated, performing a graceful dance in the air. It landed on my nose, and at that moment, I closed my eyes.

I saw only the black of nothingness—blacker than the leaves, than the one that perched coldly on my nose. Even in my sleep, I could feel its moistness on my skin, dripping over my nostril, pricking troublesomely at my upper lip.

That was the final sensation I felt before being carried away into a dream, and despairingly abruptly, the darkness vanished.

Light. Beautiful, perfect, absolutely awe-inspiring light. I was brought into a place so terrifying flawless. I couldn't fathom why. The light was so strong I couldn't even see everything in all its splendor. So blinding, so pure, so amazing—I couldn't describe the color, it was all the colors. Or no—a color never seen by man before. So indescribably stunning, flashing over my pupils, taking the black and making it luster like a diamond in my sockets. I lost my breath, I lost myself. I lost everything that was meaningful, everything horrible—every trinket of happiness and pain. All was devoured in the moment, taken by the perfection that was this light.

I didn't know where my body had gone. The light was too powerful, too consuming, engulfing, captivating, capturing—Goddesses, I didn't know what it was. It took everything that existed within me; the good, the evil, the selfish, the love. It sucked in every obsession I had. It took it all, and began to mold it before me.

I saw hands, crafted from the light, yet not outlined. They were hands of luminosity, glowing vehemently, dangerously, wonderfully. And before me, they sculpted the contents of my heart, twirling their fingers with circular movements of their wrists, sparking flickering from their fingertips. Soon, grasses veiled the light, and trees. Ponds with varying dimensions of blue, specks of gold seeming to glitter in the harmoniously noisy waters.

And at last, I saw myself—felt the presence of my body, my toes curling within my boots, watched the grass sink in from the marks of my heels. I attempted to move my fingers with the same grace as the hands of lights, bringing my arms closer to my face, carefully observing myself, my tongue glossing over my upper lip.

The hands continued to create for me, perfecting the grasses, extending their palms mightily to sculpt the blazes of the sun. I saw these hands quiver with the intense power they released. Six of them—I counted six hands, with wrists as slim and delicate of the most graceful woman.

The hands tightened, forming compact fists, grabbing the air created by them, and it seemed they began to pull the air down, in its place forming strands of hair, long and flowing blonde locks.

They curved their palms, beginning to shape a creature with the loveliest physique, one of a woman. The woman who had lived in my heart for so long, taunting me with her grimaces, her pain. The hands cupped over her chest, masses filling the palms as they crafted the swells of her breasts.

They made her—my love, my infatuation. My obsession. They made her more beautiful than I remembered, reflecting the oldest memory I had of her, and also the newest.

Whatever fulfillment I felt was replaced by a quivering anxiousness, elevating me as I attempted to move my legs to run to her, extending my arm to grab hold of the vision of beauty. Yet, my knees were stiff as I tried to move. So painfully in place—I yelped angrily, sinking my nails into the skin of my knees, hoping to yank some life back into them. This bothered the lustrous hands, however, and within the crinkles of their palms, I saw a new, golden glow pierce my eyes.

Two of the hands cupped together, and slowly they unmasked a new magic, one that glowed a fierce blue, matching the color of my eyes. And the face trapped amidst the blue was familiar, so much so that I believe I had seen this face before on more than one instance. And before I could make the realization, the light of the hands completely took over, and I could no longer stare into such a fierce, overwhelming brazenness.

Everything that was beautiful disappeared. Until I was left in the darkness once more. There was no transition, I promise—even I was baffled as how to how everything beautiful disappear from me so swiftly. I blinked my eyes harshly at the sudden light, and when I opened them, the light was no more. Just the blackness. And the memory of the smile on my princess's face.

The blackness emerged from the night sky. The dream had ended, and it had taken me awhile to realize that I was still against the tree, a small amount of weight pressing on my chest.

My nose was still cold and wet from the leaf of the tree, yet I saw the little, green speck as it had fallen onto my shoulder, resting there with a tint stream of water resting on its veins. It no longer looked black to me, but a calm, soothing green, blending into the fabric of my tunic.

My body relaxing, my shoulders loosened, my eyes heaving to close once more as I then heard a tender murmur whisper against my bosom. With weary eyes, I looked down at the child nestled against me, observing the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, lips parted, and cheeks tinted a soft crimson on her dark skin.

She had her hand curled in a fist, planted against the part of my breasts, her hair a heaping black mess over my attire. There was a sense of peace that embodied her, in which her aura flowed into me, bringing me a strange feeling of accomplishment.

We continued for another day, and I would describe that day to you—I really would. Yet, to be honest. There was not much to remember, except that we kept traveling, and Victoria grew very tired, as did I. I felt the energy in me draining, slowly leaving my body. Something was happening to the both of us, something divine. Something we could not ourselves control or determine.

What I do remember precisely is that I grew very sick that final night. I could feel the fever burn on my forehead, heating my entire face, while my body grew chilled, the breeze of the night's air further hurting my condition.

I was so close to seeing my family again—so wretchedly, damn close. I missed what I once abhorred—my simple life. I wanted to see my children, to look into the eyes of my wife. I wanted what I abandoned, my own selfishness leading me away from them.

I couldn't understand why the goddesses were doing this to me. Why didn't they want to let me go back home to my family? I had learned my mistakes, moved passed my selfish ways. I did their bidding, so why were they tormenting me now? Deciding to take my life for themselves, and rid me of the pleasure of being with my own blood.

They didn't even give me what they promised, I angrily had reckoned to myself. I was never led to my best friend. I helped restore an ill-fated nation, took in a lost child. All the goddesses did for me was allow me to see my princess one final time. Did that relieve me? It did, but it wasn't enough. I was still too selfish, the very thing I accused the goddesses of being. They bid it was time for me to leave this world as the man I was. I had done everything that was expected of me, accomplished enough as the Hero of Time.

I didn't know what was happening to me, how I had gotten so sick. I had been holding Epona by her reigns, walking along as Victoria sat on the saddle of the horse. It was a canvas filled with a collection of greens, from the dark, shady tones of the ground, to the bushy vividness of the trees. I recall how beautiful and luscious the Lost Woods appeared to me at that moment. And then I was greeted by the hands of light.

I must have been the only one to see them—it was so quick, too quick. All six came to me and rested their palms on my body. At that moment, I stopped walking, my heels skidding against the grass, eyes broadest they've ever been, heart beating to a distinct, terrified rhythm.

It took Epona a moment to stop, yet I paid no attention to the horse and child. I could feel the touch of the hands, glowing that colorless light, the glow tracing their bodies now, until I saw the forms of three women before me.

Din with her hair of fire stood with proud declaration, her palm turning gold as it rested on my shoulder. Nayru with eyes of an ocean knelt to my side, pressing her wet cheek against my tunic, her hand on my stomach.

And Farore—the goddess who seemed to favor me the most—I saw her peak from behind Din, her dress of leaves enticing my eyes, and on her full lips, a reassuring smile curved, and soon all three of the goddesses grinned, and all three nodded at me simultaneously.

Farore placed her palm securely at my heart.

It was at that instant I felt the energy drain from me, and as the other two goddesses disintegrated in the air, vanishing as glittering specks in the sky, Farore remained, palm clutching at my chest, our eyes locked in a fierce twist of blue and green.

I don't know when I noticed her disappear as her sisters. I was so lost in her eyes, teeth clenched and jaw locked, shoulders hunched in agony as I felt each particle that kept me alive creep out of my skin and flow into her sparkling hand. She was so beautiful, with justice bleeding from her lips, mercy in her pupils, eyes shimmering with love and forgiveness.

I wanted to repent myself to her, for she seemed so pure, so trustworthy. Yet, I attempted to fight back, flex my muscles to show her that I was in control of my body, and not her.

It might have been seconds, minutes, hours—she left me in a haze, not disappearing, yet not leaving me in a plausible manner. One moment she was there, drinking from my spirit, and as I lost myself in the attack, she was no longer there, and I collapsed into a heap on the ground.

I saw nor heard the reactions of Victoria. But I did feel great remorse and hatred for myself that I could not fulfill my promise to take care of her. Farore had left me a small amount of life, not completely taking all the energy in me, leaving my body in a weak, suppressed state.

I can't remember what happened when I fainted. I don't remember feeling anything, or thinking. My existence seemed to cease, and after the nothingness, my eyelids rose, and I found myself lying in the grasses, staring up in the sky, decorated with the cool, dark greens of the trees and leaves, the glowing cerulean blue glossed with the glow of the sun perfecting the canvas.

I even felt like a man no more, but plastered to a painting. I wasn't quite sure whether I was alive or dead. Dreaming or awake. Yet, I knew that I was a body, a piece of mass, pasted on the grass, the clothes on my back moist and cooling my skin.

My heartbeat was faint, lightly pulsing under my bones, and my breath was even more delicate. The air felt trapped in my throat, struggling to escape and push its way back in through my nostrils. In the dark night, the moon shone over my face, such an enchanting glow, warming me, relieving my weakened state.

Yet, even in the night, a shadow blocked the moon's essence and overpowered my face, and with a soft heave did I broaden my eyes, the color in my irises drizzling as an ocean, my lips coarse and dry, the same feeling lodged in my mouth, sucking dry every bit of moisture that resided there.

I saw beauty, simplicity. I saw Victoria. And she looked down at me with her hands buckled behind her back, hair falling in front of her face as her neck hunched to gaze down at me, eyes blinking with wonderment.

She did not fret; she did not rush to my aid. She merely continued to look at me, almost knowingly; her eyes two doves perched on her face, singing at me with quiet kindness.

I could hear the whistling of the wind at her presence, feel the air tickle my skin, watched as it played with her hair and swayed the hem of her dress. Time froze on that moment for me, capturing the image of the child, all her innocence, her mystery.

She disrupted the peaceful image by kneeling down to my face, not bothering to press out the wrinkles in her dress, fix the sloppiness of her hair from the breeze. I could feel her breath hit my neck, warming me just a little from the cold, as I fought to breathe, keep my eyes open.

The tips of her hair trickled over my cheek, soon followed by her palm smoothing against my flesh. I wanted to smile, but lacked the will, the power. Yet, she did it for me—the corners of her mouth lifting wondrously, bringing light to her face, allowing her eyes to flicker magically.

And soon, I felt that mouth press onto my forehead, moist and warm, not pulling away from the fierce heat of my skin. As she caressed my forehead with her fingers and allowed her lips to rest in her kiss, I closed my eyes, suddenly succumb by an intense sensation in my chest. It quickened my heartbeat, sent shots of deep, purifying air in my lungs.

In that brief moment, while my eyes were shut, I saw spouts of my adventure—my final journey—that was goddess led, goddess provoked, and selfishly inspired.

Just images—quick, brief flashes—of Gerudo Valley and its ruins, the hopeful, yet despairing smile of Nabooru—finding Victoria in the Lost Woods, meeting King Shahin in Pulkinoa. I saw the isolations of Adara's belly as she danced, my mouth full of her lips, Ganondorf's sword piercing the chest of the Great Fairy, the transformation of Pulkinoa.

The final picture appeared the quickest, the shortest, yet in my mind, it was most prolonged. I saw the princess, my princess. Dressed in red, lips as crimson as blood, and eyes a trembling blue.

The sadness, and the happiness. The pain and the pleasure. The hope and the despair. I saw and felt all. And it was with force that I brought open my eyes, and saw upon me a new source of light.

At first I feared it was the goddesses, coming to take the rest of me. But, this light was different—it was welcoming, familiar. I wanted to blink as this glow began to consume me, stinging my eyes with its splendor. But I was too in awe to cease staring, even as my eyes grew dry and tears stung at the corners to attempt a relief, I kept them open.

And it was there where I heard it—that simple, charming sound. A tiny little giggle.

It was Victoria's voice, that I was certain. Yet, there was a familiar tone to it, one that perplexed me greatly, sending a jolt of fear mixed with satisfaction into my veins.

I was beginning to lose grip on myself—blurs began to take over my vision, clogging bits of my sight. The light continued to erupt, the giggling becoming persistent. I realized I no longer felt the sweet touch on my forehead from Victoria, and searched with my eyes for her.

I found her in the light, tracing her body with majesty, grace. No, no—it was coming from her. The light was from her body, emitting off of her form, the glow around her highlighting every curve, from the bumps of her toes, to the lift of her eyelashes. Every piece of her glowed that bright, illuminating indigo hue.

I was too weak to feel terrified, to be confused. As I lied there helplessly, infused by the circulating light, I remember my eyes welling up with tears, relieving the dryness, washing over the pain.

She captured me with her smile, her eyes glittering just as the rest of her, her expression soothing me, to where I, too, could focus on the muscles of my jaw, and return the smile. I smiled so hard, crying as I did so, choking on my tears, becoming warmed as the droplets traveled down my cheeks, falling down my chin. I could taste it on my lips, such a salty, bitter flavor.

I didn't know what I was seeing anymore—just the beautiful, loving form of Victoria. But glowing blue, her hair transforming from the deep black it was, into a vivid, sparkling cerulean. Her ears lengthened—dress sparkling and melding into her body. It was so quick, so sudden—she didn't even seem to notice her transformation. So naturally, almost, her body changed, as if it was always this way.

Her face remained untouched—lightened to a pale cream, tinted with a tinge of blue. She still looked as Victoria to me, but another aspect of familiarity captured me—one so subtle, yet straightforward. One I should had seen all along, yet baffled me tremendously at that moment upon the revelation.

The last thing that grew from her was a set of shimmering white wings. They flowered over her body, floating gorgeously against the night sky, complimenting the greens that surrounded the forest, glowing in the luster of the moon. And there I knew, I knew with all that existed within me, that the goddesses had not betrayed me. They had fulfilled their promise.

She had been with me all this time.

I spent my last moments crying—in joy, in agony—mourning for everything beautiful and meaningful in the world. This beautiful creature, my lost friend, she kneeled before me again, and with her power took me in her arms. The lift from the cold ground was painful, and I cringled bitterly with stiffened muscles as she nestled my cheek unto her chest, holding me against her as a mother would do, moving her palms down my back.

She wiped away my tears, and yet more came—so many falling from my eyes, drenching my face. I could not stop it. The moment was too beautiful. The goddesses had both blessed and cursed me with such quick sights of beauty. They had given me what I desired, and it was all ended too soon yet again.

As she held me, I felt myself begin to change. To describe it would be impossible. But I knew I was no longer the man that I was, and I would not return the same man. It was decay to my flesh, a burn I felt consume my being. It felt good, yet wretched. I allowed myself to soak in the good, be taken in by the beauty that comforted me.

She grew smaller, and smaller, and so much smaller—to where my head fell back down onto the grasses, no longer cradled by her. I watched with bleak, tired eyes are she flew around me, that same sweet giggle echoing, filling my ears blithely—until, at last, she landed upon my cheek, resting herself upon me, filling me with all her kindness, her innocence.

The both of us remained there, surrounded by her light. But it was not enough to save me. My eyes were too heavy to keep open, body too weak to force life. I imagined myself twelve years ago, when I had gone into the Lost Woods as a child, and faced death just as I did at this moment. As I perished, I became that child again, curled up on my side, such a small person with all the right intentions. I became the lost child who found his fairy. I was happy in the hallucinated state, even as the creature attempted to breathe life into me.

As I died, I smiled—still being that child. In my last moments I knew that my journey was complete.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: The End and the Beginning

"I don't know about this, Angmar. Mother told us specifically never to go to the Lost Woods. If we get lost, we'll die here."

The young lady held onto her skirts as she walked with sandal covered feet along the thick grasses of the forest, her hair shining in the light of the sunset, a gesture of unease claiming her blue eyes.

The older, taller girl marching in front of her smiled cleverly, however, cradling a bottle in her hands, holding it up against her chest as she shrugged her long, red hair away from her face. Looking behind her, she chuckled softly, extending her arms to emphasize the bottle in her possession, from which inside emitted a pink, radiant light.

"Cedany, we have nothing to worry about. Remember the stories Father used to tell us? As long as we have a fairy, we can't get lost."

Angmar frowned as she saw the immediate hurt that struck her younger sister's face at the mention of their father, and soon she, too, felt a sadness overcome her. With a sigh, she stuck the bottle against her side and forearm, using her elbow to carry it as she trudged over to her sister, delicately placing a hand onto her shoulder, adorned with the short sleeve of her soft pink farm dress.

At the comfort of her sister, Cedany lifted her gaze, not knowing how to respond at Angmar's nervous smile.

"Look," spoke the eldest, "nothing will happen to us. We talked this over, remember? The three of us were to come here and look to see what the fuss was all about. As long as we have this fairy, nothing bad can happen to us."

Slowly, Cedany returned the smile, clutching at the fabrics of her dress once more, ready to keep going. But, her smile quickly disappeared when she noticed Angmar's expression transform into one of absolute horror. Looking over Cedany's shoulder, her eyes widened, shimmering a terrified blue.

"Where's Link?" she spoke coarsely.

The color drained from Cedany's face as she soon realized what had struck her sister. "Link?" she repeated with a gulp.

"Yes, Cedany! Where is our brother?"

There was no talk amongst the sisters after the startling revelation; nothing but a series of pants and groans, worried expressions and words of regret. They took steps back—hasty steps, eyes broad and horrified, anger and resentment consuming the both of them.

"Where did that hellion go?" cried Angmar, clutching at the trunk of a tree, painfully digging her fingernails into the thick bark. "Goddesses, Mother is going to kill us! You know Link is her favorite!"

Cedany laughed with sarcasm as she leaned her back against the same tree, slowly sliding down with despair until her bum hit the ground. "This is going to give Mr. Ordon an even bigger reason to dislike us. He thinks he's some grand duke because he was a guard at the castle before Mother married him."

"Please don't speak of Mr. Ordon while we're trying to find Link," groaned Angmar, continuing to cradle the bottle messily as she extended her arm for her sister to grab. "I am tired of that man and his plans to expand the ranch. Mother would be a fool to listen to anything he advises. But then again, she did marry the rascal."

After Cedany had rose from the ground, both girls merely glared at one another, the natural sounds of the forest consuming, until Angmar smacked her palm onto her forehead, biting down onto her bottom lip as her cheeks flushed a sickly red.

"We need to find him, Cedany. He couldn't have gone too far!"

I knew where the boy had gone.

I had been watching them the moment they moved through my territory of the Lost Woods. Each step they took, every time one of the girls would brush her hair behind her ears—I saw every bit of it, drunk every little detail of them, every fragment of their personality they spilled.

It was first and only time I had met my son.

A decade must had gone by, at the very least. Angmar and Cedany were grown, blossomed into beautiful young women almost identical to their mother. My emotions bled with a desire to see them, to confront and hold them as I once did before I left the ranch.

But they could not see me like this. No, no. The could never see me. Thus, I followed them instead, as discreetly as I could, ready to protect them from the dangers of the woods if it needed be.

And I saw the boy, and for a moment I saw only him. My vision focused on the young child, his face a replica of what mine had been—so fresh and alive, large blue eyes and hair the hue of hay, shorter than mine had been. And I knew he was my son. There was no other possibility.

She had named him after me, at last had to herself a little piece of me, the part she could never fully capture. This Link was all hers, could return her love the way she wanted it. He was dependent on her, loved her unconditionally. This Link I would never get to know. The son I always wanted, dreamed of having, to teach the art of swordplay, condition him to become a warrior, just as I.

He was the son I would never know, but the one I would always love. And only one memory I shared with him. Just a single moment where we briefly met. And somehow, he was not afraid of me.

I saw him leave his sisters once he took sight of a yellow fairy floating around them. The girls were too occupied talking amongst themselves as the young boy became mesmerized by the light the fairy emitted. His eyes sparkled at the little creature, who moved so freely in the sky, unlike the one his sisters had encaged. Almost in a trance, he began to follow her, a smile taking his face, nearly tripping over his own legs in his attempts to keep up with the twirling creature.

I shouldn't have—I knew I really shouldn't have. I should have kept my distance from the boy, but my restraint was loosened by my desire to see the child up close. Only once, just once, and never again. I would never do such a thing again.

As little Link scurried around the forest in pursuit of the fairy, I nabbed the critter in both my palms, trapping her as her golden glow emitted from the cracks of my hands. The trees that surrounded me masked my form, as I seemed to camouflage in the dark, dull greens of the vicinity. But the glow that leaked from my grasp brought attention to me, one the child could not ignore as he hastily followed the sight to where his fairy friend had disappeared.

He didn't see me at first, as I tried to hide myself vaguely behind a tree, beginning to regret my plan to see the boy. But I saw a shift occur in his eyes, the arch of his blonde brows lifting curiously as his hands tightened into nervous fists at his sides. He could sense my presence, and with bravery hustled through the bushes and thick plants, coming closer to me, eying the yellow light with narrowed eyes.

So close to me—exasperatingly close. I felt a tremor take over me. As I could see his face so clearly and perfectly now, I realized I had received exactly what I wanted. The son who would carry my lineage. An image of myself.

And the simultaneous despair that filled me at seeing him—how I could never know him, speak with him, teach him. He and his sisters living the same simple life absent of the true knowledge of their father.

But the girls—they knew. They knew quite well. I was a hero to them, a martyr. But to my son, this boy, I was just a legend, a stranger to him. And as he came closer to me, reaching his small hand out to touch the source of light as he inched closer and closer, I realized I could not let him see me.

I took aggressive steps away, burying myself in the forestry, hoping to merely become a figment. But my movement had caught his eye, and with intrigue igniting his face, the boy further pushed his way closer, fighting to see who I was, not giving up until he became face to face with me.

But I could not let him see me like this—Goddesses, no! I was not the image he would expect. He would be frightened, alarmed. No, no, I would not let this happen to my son! I had to escape, to flee. But there was no way to do so without completely revealing myself.

And yet, there was something in his eyes that relinquished every ounce of fear that consumed me. It was a look of curiosity and courage. One that proved he would not give up, the same expression that had been mine.

I would fight it no longer. The boy had found me, and though he seemed startled, the fright he portrayed was very short lived, for I knelt down to him, the fairy still cupped in my hands, her magic warming my palms, burning them golden.

His lips had parted in bewilderment, at first looking up at my massive form, eyes trembling at how large I was compared to him, at my appearance, my state. He took a single step backward, as if ready to flee. But that was the only step he took, unable to move, something luring him to me, perhaps something he did not know himself.

And when I had bent down to him, I was able to stare into the eyes of my son, see every dimple on his cheeks, the thickness of his eyebrows. Everything about him was so perfect. It was such a quick moment, but I remember every detail of him.

Slowly, I lifted my palms, and his face lit up with the golden glow that leaked through, and as I uncupped my palms, the light grew stronger, more vibrant, though the child did not blink at the luminosity. He only stared harder, a delicate gasp aching his throat, as his eyes glittered in the beauty of the fairy. She sat perched on my palms, her wings gently hovering with her tiny breaths, her little legs crossed.

The child made no attempt to grab her, but repositioned his gaze to stare at me once more, his face forming an expression I could not read, one that appeared to be a mixture of so many different emotions.

I was the one who was afraid, however. And the time with my son ended as I jerked my hands forward, forcing the fairy to flutter her way to the sky once more. He quickly moved himself to follow her, but stopped with his legs in the opposite direction of his torso. He stopped to look at me, one final time. But I had already disappeared into the darkness, blending into the greens once more.

But I watched him, observed him carefully as he followed the fairy, while he kept looking back, his brows furrowed in a look of wonder, hoping to catch one more glimpse of me.

"Link!"

"Goddesses, boy! Where have you been? We were looking for you everywhere!"

As he found his sisters, I continued to watch. Every single exchange between them while they were in the woods, I witnessed.

"I'm sorry," apologized the young boy, holding his hands together behind his back, wobbling his right leg in defeat. The golden creature was swirling over his shoulders now, highlighting the yellow of his hair. "But, I saw this fairy, and then, when I was following her, I saw a stalfos!"

As Link extended his arms to further emphasize his point, Angmar and Cedany exchanged glances, moving their fists to their hips before returning their attention to their younger brother.

"Link, don't be silly. Now's not the time for your foolishness," said Angmar, shaking her head at the boy as she approached him and took hold of his wrist. "If you saw a stalfos, you would have been attacked. They are not friendly."

The boy grunted as he yanked his arm away from his sister, frowning feverishly as he continued to try and convince them of his account. "But I swear, I did!" spoke his boyish tone. "He was really tall, taller than both of you put together! And he looked like a knight, with all this armor covering his bones. And you know what? He looked like he was nice."

The girls took his words lightly, however, rolling their eyes as he commented using fierce hand gestures and an excited pitch of voice. Instead, Angmar took his wrist again, more aggressively this time, resulting in a groan from the child, as Cedany was quick to take his opposing hand.

"Let's get home, Link, before you start making up more ridiculous stories," Angmar said as she continued to shake her head, leading them away from the woods.

"And don't be telling Mother any of this nonsense, either," added Cedany. "She mustn't know we were ever here."

That was the last I ever saw of my children. They never looked back, not even my son, as they walked away, guided by the caged light of the little pink fairy the eldest held with her. In the woods I remained, haunted by that single encounter, forever remembering the face of my son.

For a long time, I wondered the motive of the goddesses. I watched as others entered the forest, spoke of the changes of Hyrule. I learned by a foolish couple dancing in the forest that Zelda had become queen, and was making drastic changes.

Why did the goddesses take my life? Why couldn't I go back home to my family? I would be forever tormented with the idea of my son. Was that their ultimate plan—to put me in a never ending misery? They took my life, but left my spirit in the woods, to linger there for all eternity. And I watched, for many years, simply watched. Watched others come, others die, learned what was becoming of Hyrule. And while I watched, I thought. I had a long time to think. And during this time, I realized why I was here.

Nabooru had told me—she had warned me. Ganondorf's desires had transformed him into a vile man, and she had given me his sword in reminder of that. I, too, had similar desires. Mine was not of power, but of greed. I wanted too much, and the goddesses were willing to give me parts of it. They allowed me the chance to become a hero again, to see my princess, and be reunited with my best friend. But they would not give me everything. And for all that I did receive, it was short lived. Such a brief happiness, instead of living my life with my family, I spent few moments engaged in my lusts.

I could not have all that I wanted; the goddesses would not grant it all to me. Ultimately, I chose my obsessions, the quick instances of pleasure, rather than living the simple life with my family at the ranch. Did I begin to regret my decision over time—to have shortened my life to mark myself as a hero, a martyr, to have been confronted with my long-lived infatuations?

I could not regret it—as much as I missed my family, as I wanted to know and love my son. Even as the years went by and I knew that they had passed on, I could not regret my choices, the ultimate end of my young life. I wanted to be the hero. This was the only time were I truly yearned to be so. I realized that I was not summoned by the goddesses, but given an offer. They were willing to give me what I desired, to help a kingdom in need, and allow me to confront my obsessions. But all for a price. I could not have everything.

The moment I left my simple life, I learned that the barriers between good and evil were not so distant, that good could exist in evil, how there could be evil in good. I was confronted with my own evil, the part of me that was inside Ganondorf. I gave up my life to learn this lesson, and I cannot regret it.

Perhaps it was decades, or maybe even centuries—I do not know—but I learned that there was a rebellion in Hyrule. The Temple of Time was destroyed, according to those who passed by in the woods. There were more attempts to rebuild Hyrule. My princess had sent me back to avoid such destruction, but in the end, it was all inevitable. Hyrule in this time would face its own chaos, something that could not be avoided, even with the interference of time.

Even the area around me began to change. The Lost Woods grew, the environment altered. It was a slow process, but I noticed it. Soon, those who wondered did not even refer to it as the Lost Woods. The name became unknown. But to me, it was still the same place, where I was given a second chance at life, and my ultimate ending.

I noticed many more changes occur, but to list them all would take too much time. So, I will only say this world became a different place, once I was not sure if my princess would have approved of. But it was part of the good and evil that existed in everything, everyone. Hyrule was not a land of pure kindness. The king I had trusted had caused the near extinction of the Gerudo race.

I would like to believe that during my own personal battle of good and evil, I did not allow my selfishness to overpower me. Though my intentions were not honorable in the beginning of my final journey, I did care for the well being for a certain child I had met, one who I wanted to protect, who I believed in despite what seemed like treachery coming from her.

My little Victoria, the girl who continued to become more and more mysterious to me. I believed the goddesses had planted her to guide me, giving me my reward from the beginning of my journey.

Was I hallucinating when I saw her transform as I was dying? Was she truly the lost friend I had been searching for all this time? In a lot of ways, it made sense to me. But I still wondered and questioned myself. Though, whatever had occurred, I was infused with magic before I died, one that carried with me, and remains in me now. It was her magic—Victoria's, Navi's, whoever she was—and it was the last I ever saw of her.

She might have died trying to save me, with all the power in her. And perhaps she was just as lost as I was. And though it may seem impossible, I do believe it was her all along—my best friend. The bond between us was just too strong. And I can still feel her spirit in these woods from time to time, hear her giggle immersed in the air, warming my lingering spirit and allowing me feel alive again.

I feel fulfilled in a sense, but a part of me wonders what would have happened if I ignored the goddesses' offer and kept my simple life on the ranch. I would have grown old and died with my family, perhaps passed down my knowledge of the sword to my son. I would have been happy—but still not complete.

I used to accept the role as the hero, but when I was given a chance at a regular life, I craved the call of adventure. And I took that call, that final task. I snatched it with all its glory and despair. I learned the terrible truth, was taken from any bit of innocence I had left. But I did learn how to conquer over the evil in me, the selfishness I lived with for my twelve years in Hyrule.

I did not know why the goddesses could not take my spirit with them. They left me in the woods, to form into the very thing I feared becoming when I became lost those other times. They would curse me with images of Ganondorf—the same ones, for many, many years. They would remind me he is not dead—but still alive, and breathing, and desperately thirsty to fulfill his desires.

For some reason only known to them, my work in this world was completed. And though I was very resentful to the goddesses for a long time, I grew to accept my fate. There were consequences to my decisions, my choices. I could not have everything that I desired.

I would not like to think of my life as a tragedy, for I felt a calming fulfillment the last moments of my life. There is a legend of me in Pulkinoa—one that only those inhabitants will speak of. Not Hyrule, or the Kokiri who evolved over time, not the extinction of the Gerudo. I had to speak of my final journey, because it is all that is known of me in this time. Pulkinoa and Termina, but never Hyrule. There, I was merely a farmer who abandoned his family.

As the images of Ganondorf became more vivid, I could feel his return nearing. Perhaps it was centuries that passed, maybe more, or even less. But I knew the moment he escaped from his prison. I felt it in my cursed bones, heard it the whistling of the wind.

I heard from others of his return. And now I am ready. I know I will not be combating against him, for my time as the hero has ended. But the goddesses have told me—yes, they have told me—about another who is of my blood. They have chosen him to take my place, to be the next wielder of the Master Sword.

I am left with Ganondorf's sword, to always remind me of the inward struggle between good and evil. It resides in everyone, even in myself. And I have learned to conquer it. Now I wait in the forest, camouflaging myself in the greens, as the goddesses whisper to me, their essence flourishing in the air. They have given me the chance to share my knowledge.

Victoria—my beautiful Navi—will always live inside of me, as her magic continues to flow within my bones. I have learned to control it, and it is time I fulfill the final moment of my destiny. It did not end with my life. It seems that the goddesses continued to have use for me, to continue to keep me here.

Even after death, I am a warrior, and it is time to pass down my secrets to my surviving bloodline. I can no longer hold a grudge against the goddesses, especially Farore, who continues to favor me. I faced the trials of a hero, of a man. And throughout all my hardships, I prevailed, learning not only about the realities of life, but what lived within my spirit. This is my final moment of redemption, of which the goddesses have graced me with one last time.

Although I accepted life as the hero, I could not convey the lessons of that life to those who came after. At last, I have eased my regrets.

Back to Story Menu