The glittering walls of Din’s chambers were hurting Link’s eyes.  It wasn’t so much the glare of the many candles off of the gold designs so much as the fact that he had been staring at them for so long.  Days, it seemed.  Well, probably something like that.  In fact, he and Nebekah had scarcely left the chamber, except for a few trips to the mess and to bed, and then only at Mika’s insistence.  They could solve no mysteries half asleep.  Ironically, Link thought, they couldn’t seem to solve any mysteries while fully awake.  The fact of the matter was, for all their staring and examining of the walls, they hadn’t solved anything.

            Link could hear a sort of clock ticking, a time bomb that was slowly building up to what he knew was some sort of elaborate plot on his life.  He had been warned as much back when he first faced the Twinrova threat.  They had something planned for him, something big and doubtlessly fatal.  It hadn’t truly worried him.  At first, he had been a lost in a malaise as far as life was concerned.  Now, however, that he had recaptured his hold on life, their threats worried him far more.  That, and the fact that they now had an incredible weapon at their disposal.

            It had been almost a week since the Twinrova sisters had captured the Gerudo Topaz with the help of Sapphia.  It was clear to Link and all the members of the fellowship that the Topaz, which had been their goal from the beginning, was some sort of weapon.  The trouble was, they could only guess at the nature of such a weapon, given the fact that so little was known about the Topaz.  All they had been left with was a cryptic riddle that, so far, no one had been able to crack.  Time was running out.  Link didn’t know what was keeping the sisters from making their move, but whatever it was, it couldn’t last forever.

            “Look at this one,” Nebekah said, pointing to a glyph the two of them had already scrutinized a dozen times.  This particular image displayed the creation of the Gerudo race.  Specifically, it showed Din, forming the prehistoric warrior women out of the sands of the Gerudo Valley, mixing it with water for life, honey for beauty, and wine for great fortitude.  The primordial mixing bowl gleamed with embedded rubies, carved to precise triangular shapes.  From it, etched into the walls, poured a fountain of the mythological mixture.

            “What about it?” Link asked wearily, looking at the all too familiar image and seeing nothing new.

            “The shape of the mixture as it hits the ground,” Nebekah said feebly, pointing to the point on the wall.  “It kind of looks like an upside down tree.”

            “So what?  The Gerudo are actually Kokiri?”

            She sighed.  “I guess not.”

            He felt guilty almost immediately for snapping at her like that.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

            “It’s okay, blondie,” she said.

            “I’m just…”

            “Stressed,” she finished for him.  “I understand.  I would be too if the Twinrova sisters were gunning for me.”

            “I just wish we knew more about the Topaz,” Link sighed.  “It might make solving the riddle easier.”

            “Which might make staying alive easier.”

            “You don’t have to keep reminding me they’re after my head,” he told her a bit crisply.

            “Yeah, I do.”

            “Why?”

            “Motivation.”

            “I don’t need any.”

            “It’s for me.”

            “Oh.  Sorry.”

            Nebekah turned her attention back to the glyphs, running her flingers over the delicate tracery.  “I don’t want them touching you,” she told him quietly.

            “I’m not planning on dying.”

            “Who knows what tricks they have up their sleeves?”

            Link shrugged.  “What do you mean?”

            “I mean,” she said, “this seems like an entirely too elaborate plot for a simple act of revenge.”

            “I know,” he admitted.

            “They don’t just want to kill you, they want more than that.  The question becomes what do they want?”

            “The Topaz, obviously.”

            “Of course,” she said.  “Still, they want to kill you specifically with the Topaz.  Why?  It would be much easier to impale you with a sickle.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Light you on fire.”

            “Right.”

            “Drop you off the roof of a building.”

            “I get it, Nebekah,” he barked.

            “Sorry.”

            Again, he felt considerably guilty.  “There’s something special about the Topaz itself.”  He moved along the wall, coming to a scene depicting Din’s presentation of the Topaz to the Gerudo, back when they were a single, unified people.  The shape was precise, exactly as it had been when Link had gotten his all too brief glimpse of the fully assembled stone.  Din held it before her, floating above her hands.  Below her were small people, barely reaching up to her knees.  They bowed and prostrated themselves, holding their hands out to receive the gift.  Behind them, Link noticed, was a strange pyramid, that seemed to be missing one side.  “Nebekah?”

            “Yeah?”

            “What’s this?” he pointed to the pyramid.

            She glanced at it briefly.  “That’s the temple of Din.”

            “The temple of Din?”

            “Well, it’s a symbol for it.”  She paused.  “The actual building is shaped like a pyramid though.”

            “Where is it?”

            “Not far from here, actually.  It’s the most remote place in the entire Valley, for good reason.”

            “Have you ever been there?”

            “Once, a long time ago.”  She chewed the heel of her palm.  “My mother took me as a child.”

            “The picture shows Din giving the Topaz to the Gerudo there,” Link said, indicating the image.  “Do you suppose it was housed there before the Gerudo divided it up among the Prides?”

            “It’s possible.”

            “Maybe that should be our next stop,” Link supposed.

            “The temple of Din?”

            “Yeah.”

            Nebekah shrugged.  “They seem to be without a high priestess.”  Despite himself, Link couldn’t help but smirk.  Jadis, the high priestess of Din who had attempted to completely enslave the Kodiak, was being kept in the dungeon where she had brainwashed so many of them, drugging them with lotus blossoms and attempting to hypnotize them, all for her own personal agenda.  “We could probably take her necklace and gain easy access.”

            Link nodded vaguely, still examining the engraving.  “I think that may be our best bet.  Short of having the actual Topaz, finding out where it was kept might be a good place to start.”

            “I know the way.  We can probably get supplies from Alpha Sarjenka and be on our way by sunrise.”

            For a moment, they were silent, contemplating the image.  “I should have listened to you,” Link said quietly, after that moment.

            Nebekah glanced sideways at him.  “What do you mean?”

            “You warned me not to trust Sapphia.  I should have listened.  I should have realized she was working with the Twinrova sisters the entire time.”

            “First of all,” Nebekah said, “I told you not to trust her because she was a Kodiak.  I figured all the Kodiak to be worthless.  But I was wrong.  They’ve been nothing but honorable to us.”

            “What’s second of all?” he asked.

            “Second of all,” she said, “Sapphia had us all fooled.  Not just you.  We thought she was a friend.”

            “She played us all very cleverly.”

            “Yes.”

            He shook his head.  “I suppose there’s no point in trying to convince you not to come with me, that it’s dangerous for anyone to be around me when the Twinrova sisters are after me?”

            “Completely pointless,” she confirmed with a fierce nod of her head.

            “I figured you’d say that.”

            “I’m with you to the end, blondie.”  She folded her arms.  “Anyway, Kotake needs to pay for killing Miral.  I’m not letting you have all the glory.  I want my crack at her too.”

            “Right.”

            “And I can promise you that Mika and Tyro aren’t about to leave your side.  We’re in this together.”

            “We were in this together with Sapphia,” Link pointed out.  “See how well that ended?”

            “Well, there’s a difference between Sapphia and the rest of us following after you.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah.”

            “What’s that?”

            She shrugged.  “We’re not sociopathic liars.”

            Link laughed at that.  “I’m not entirely convinced.”

            “Well, whatever you believe, we’re a team, blondie.  We’re not going to let you face this evil alone.”

            He glanced sideways at her with a slight smile.  “A team?  I think I like that.  A lot.”

            “So, what do you say?”

            “I say,” he said slowly, “that we make some arrangements to visit Jadis’ temple of Din.”

            “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

            The fact of the matter was that Link was exhausted, nervous, and irritable.  But at the same time, he felt a pleasant warmth in his chest.  Everything he had gone through with Ganondorf Dragmire and the Ocarina of Time had been just as arduous and difficult as this new quest.  But something had changed.  For once, Link had friends.  And somehow, knowing that Nebekah, Mika, and Tyro were on his side made everything feel a lot easier.  He chided himself for getting too confident.  After all, there was still a long way to go before he could consider himself truly safe.  Still, somehow, what Nebekah had said had given him just a drop of confidence, a precious, rare gift he knew he had to hold onto in the hard times to come.

 

            In the past week, a lot had changed about the Kodiak stronghold.  Gone were the flowers and scarves that denoted the warriors as passive followers of Yakut.  The statues of Din which had been removed were all properly restored with sacrifices lining the bases.  The fire ravaged food storage area had been repaired.  All of the messes cleaned up.  The one thing, however, that hadn’t changed, was the tension that Mika felt every time she came within view of Tyro.  That, it seemed, would remain between them indefinitely.

            Her feelings about him were so confused, she rather enjoyed using the tension as an excuse to get away.  She was caught in a web of emotions, pulling her in opposite directions.  On the one hand, she admitted to her mother, if not to Tyro, that she was really in love with him.  When she asked herself if this was true, she was forced to answer in the affirmative.  On the other hand, Tyro had slept with another woman while he claimed to be in love with her.  And yet on another hand, though there were none left, this woman had turned out to be evil, leaving Mika to question the meaning behind their affair.  All this built up into a delightfully palpable tension that Mika hid behind.  Unfortunately, there could be no hiding for the moment.  She was, unfortunately, in the position of having to find Tyro.

            She found him, predictably, in the courtyard.  This seemed to be his favorite part of the stronghold.  It was hot, roofed with a glass pane that trapped the dying remains of sunlight long after the sun had set.  She found him sitting on the ground under the fronds of a palm tree, looking up at the brilliant starlight which shone through the glass.  No one bothered Link or Tyro, knowing full well what their purposes were and despite the fact that they were men.  Still, Tyro had continuously expressed discomfort with being within the confines of the Kodiak fortress.  He claimed that he felt trapped, caged in, so it was no surprise that he wanted to see the sky.

            As she approached, he turned away from the stars to look at her.  Her chest tightened as she felt his eyes upon her.  The many hands of her feelings pulled her heart in opposite directions, making it beat all the more faster.  “We’re leaving in the morning,” she told him, the strain evident in her throat.

            “Where are we going?” he asked, standing up, but maintaining a good distance between them.

            “The temple of Din.”

            “How far away is that?”

            “Not far.  Nebekah says we can get there in a few hours by foot.  Alpha Sarjenka might even give us some horses.”

            A silence that could be classified as nothing short of awkward followed.  “Do you know how to ride?” Tyro finally blurted.

            Mika shook her head.  “No.  The Orca live in rocky territory.  Horses are no good to us.”

            “Oh.”

            She shifted her weight.  “Do you?”

            “What?”

            “Know how to ride?”

            “Well, I spent part of my childhood on a ranch, racing my cousin.  She always beat me but…yeah.  I’m decent.”

            “That’s…good.”

            They regarded each other cautiously for a moment.  “You could…ride with me,” he said.

            “Tyro, I don’t know if –”

            “Mika,” he interrupted, “listen.  I know that you’re upset with me, but would you allow me to explain?”

            “What’s there to explain?” she asked.  “You slept with Sapphia.  And I know she’s secretly evil, but unless you are –”

            “There’s more to what happened than that.  I thought it was you, Mika.  I really did.”

            “You said that before.”

            “It’s the truth.”

            “How can you think it was me?  I don’t understand that.”

            “Well, if you’d let me explain…”

            She folded her arms across her chest, taking up a defensive posture.  “All right, explain.”

            He clapped his hands together in front of his face.  Clearly, he had not been expecting her to acquiesce.  For a moment, he rested his lips against his fingernails.  “We were staying with the Dragon Pride,” he said.

            “I remember.”

            “You were wandering off somewhere.  I was speaking with Princess Zelda.”

            “Yes,” Mika said, not bothering to mention the emotional flashbacks she had been experiencing at the time.

            “Zelda said…something that upset me, so I went to a guest room to lie down for a little while.  Someone came to the door.  I thought it was you.  Looked just like you, Mika, dead on.  She started kissing me and I remembered our earlier encounters and thought that…”

            “Thought what?”

            “That you had changed your mind.”

            “You should have known better.”

            He smiled tightly.  “You don’t change your mind.”

            “Not often.”

            Tyro sighed.  “Well, it happened.  And in the morning, when I woke up, it was Sapphia and not you.  I was horrified.”

            “Horrified?” she asked.

            “Fell off the bed,” he told her, taking a few steps forward in her direction.  “Absolutely furious too.”

            “But how could you mistake Sapphia for me?”

            “That’s the very thing I asked her.  And she told me that she had used Heart’s Desire to trick me.”

            “Heart’s Desire…”

            “The herb that makes men think they’re seeing the person that they…love.  Which, in my case, would be you, Mika.”

            “Why would she do that?”

            “She said she was in love with me.  Now, I’m not sure.  Maybe it was to break us up.  She’s evil, who knows?”

            “Who knows,” she echoed softly.

            “The point is that I love you, Mika.  I’ve never loved anyone else, and even if you hate me forever for what happened with Sapphia, I will still love you.”

            And she knew it was true.  Somehow, some way, the earnest shined from his eyes, reaching into her soul and filling her chest with a new feeling, a warm, forgiving energy that wanted to shine out.  She felt it rise up into her throat, forming the words on her lips.  “Tyro, I –”

            “Mika?” someone interrupted.  “Tyro?”  Both of them turned instantly to see Alpha Sarjenka approaching them, her long red hair swaying behind her back as she hurried over to them.  “I’ve been looking for you.”

            “Sarjenka,” Tyro sighed quietly, feeling the loss of Mika’s words himself, though he didn’t know for certain what they were.

            “What can we do for you, Alpha?” Mika asked politely, crossing her wrists before her chest in salute.

            “I’ve already told your other friends, I’m leaving.  I’ve received a summons from Alpha Nabooru, of all people.  Din only knows what kind of trap I’ll be walking into.  I wanted to let you know that the stables are fully at your disposal for your trip tomorrow.  Take any mares you wish.”

            “Thank you, Alpha,” Mika said.

            “I’ll be leaving my Gamma, Nala in charge.”  She paused, a small frown forming on her lips.  “Assuming, that is, I can find her.  You haven’t seen her around here, have you?”

            “No, Alpha,” Mika replied.

            Sarjenka planted her hands on her hips, looking annoyed.  “She’s been missing all day.”  She shook her head.  “Anyway, once I find her, I’ll tell her that I’ve given you every freedom.  You have access to anything you need.  We’re anxious to help you on your quest.”

            “Thanks,” Tyro muttered.

            “Din be with you,” Sarjenka said.  And with that, she turned around, hurrying away in her typical Kodiak march.

            Tyro turned to look at Mika.  “What were you going to say?” he asked.

            Mika shook her head.  “Nothing.”  She didn’t know why she said it, every instinct in her body was screaming to express her feelings to Tyro.  She did love him, why couldn’t she tell him?  There was something holding her back, some small fear, some remnant of her Gerudo past, perhaps, or else a certain doubt about his own faithfulness, though she believed his story.  Whatever it was, it caused her heart to ache and forced her to turn away.  Looking at him only made it worse.

 

            “You summoned me?” Sapphia asked Koume as she entered the central chamber of the ice palace, directly over the marble floor from which the Twinrova sisters had been resurrected.

            Koume looked up from the telepathy tile she had been examining, trying to make the edges meld better into the walls.  “Kotake wants to see you,” she said.  “She’ll be here in a moment.  She just had to run an errand.”

            “Very well,” Sapphia replied.

            “Sit down and wait,” Koume told her, gesturing a chair, one of the few pieces not made of ice, they had procured for Sapphia. 

            “Thank you,” Sapphia said gratefully.

She watched as Sapphia lumbered over to take a seat.  Kotake’s spell had already taken firm hold of the Kodiak.  In the hopes of accelerating their plans to revive Ganondorf, Kotake had sped up the pregnancy to an unnatural rate.  Sapphia’s belly bulged hugely, nearly two seasons ahead of schedule for any Gerudo.  Frankly, this concerned Koume a good deal.  She feared that Sapphia would deliver before killing the Hero with the Topaz, meaning the birth of one more Gerudo girl, not the return of the great alpha male.  All those arrangements would go to waste and Koume severely doubted that the process could be duplicated.  Too many changes had taken place, too many bridges had been burned.

            Sapphia had been in the ice palace nearly a week now.  Koume felt unnaturally uncomfortable around her, especially when they were alone, as they so often were while Kotake was meddling with life in the Gerudo Valley.  She was burning with questions, particularly about how Kotake had managed to procure this fine vessel without a single dose of brainwashing magic.  Sapphia had sought them out, had played a hand in their return, and had willingly agreed to carry the new Ganondorf to term.  For each of these, Koume yearned to know why, but somehow, she lacked the courage to conjure up the questions.  Kotake had always been the brave one, the assertive one, and therefore, the one who knew the answers.

            “So…” Koume murmured, at a loss for anything to say, but hating the silence far more, “are you comfortable?”  Immediately, she cursed herself for asking such a stupid question.

            “No,” Sapphia admitted. 

            “I suppose not,” Koume said, eyeing the tight skin of her swollen stomach, stretching faster and sooner than expected.

            Noting her gaze, Sapphia patted her belly.  “I can feel him kicking already,” she said proudly.

            “Her,” Koume corrected her.  “Until the Topaz is used to destroy the Hero, that child does not have Ganondorf’s soul.  It’s a very complicated, delicate situation.  Kotake can explain it better than I.”

            “Right.”

            Mercifully, at that moment, Kotake appeared in the middle of the room, arriving with a flash of fire and a bright smile on her thin, twisted lips.  “Ah,” she said, taking note of the room.  “Sapphia, you’re here.  Good.”

            “As you asked,” Koume muttered.

            “How may I serve you?” Sapphia asked.

            “Have you brought the Topaz?”

            Sapphia held up the amber triangle with a flattened top point.  “I carry it with me always.”

            “Good,” Kotake said.  “Because I expect you’ll need to use it very soon.  I have it on excellent authority that the Hero will be on his way to us in good time.”

            “Excellent,” Sapphia replied.

            “In the meanwhile, it is time for you to learn how to use it.”

            Koume glanced at her sister.  “Use it?”

            “I think a trial run is called for,” Kotake responded.  “That way, when the Hero arrives, we can simply let him enter and find Sapphia himself.  We never have to see that wretched boy again.”  She turned to Sapphia.  “Shall we give it a go?”

            “Certainly.”

            “Good.”  Kotake clapped her hands.  In a flash of fire, a second figure appeared in the middle of the room.  This was a young Gerudo girl, her arms and legs bound by Din Silver, her mouth stuffed with a linen gag.  She wore Kodiak colors and appeared on her side, struggling as any good Gerudo, to free herself of the unbreakable bonds that held her.  It took her a moment to realize that she had somehow transported to a new location.  Wildly, she looked up, perhaps hoping that some sort of salvation was at hand.  Her blue eyes flashed, taking in the scene with bitter disappointment.

            Struggling, Sapphia pulled herself to her feet.  “Nala?” she asked, recognizing her sister in arms.

            “You will practice on her,” Kotake said.

            “Kotake!” Koume cried.  “Really, I must object.”

            “Be quiet, you old bat,” Kotake answered.

            “You want her to kill another Gerudo?  That wasn’t part of the plan.  The plan was to bring the Gerudo together.”

            “You’re thinking small,” Kotake sighed.  “Remember the bigger picture.  If a few Gerudo are lost as collateral damage, just remember that they’re giving their lives for the greater good.”  She glanced at Sapphia.  “Isn’t that right?”

            “Yes…” she said, but Koume immediately detected a hint of doubt, too subtle for Kotake to recognize.

            “Wonderful,” Kotake exclaimed, clapping her hands together with a crack.  “Let’s begin then.”

            “But I’m supposed to kill Link with the Topaz in order to transform my baby into Ganondorf.  Won’t it disrupt the spell if I kill someone else?”

            “No, of course not,” Kotake assured her.  “It’s more of a prophecy than a spell.  You needn’t worry about the details, I know exactly what’s going on.  All you need to worry about is practicing.  Let’s begin.”

            “How?” asked Sapphia.

            “The use of the Topaz is frightfully simple,” Kotake told her, stepping over Nala and walking to the vessel.  “The first thing you need to do is hold it out, pointing the blunt tip in the direction of the person you wish to destroy.  Go ahead, hold it up.”

            Carefully, Sapphia took the Topaz in both hands and raised it to her eye level, pointing it slightly away from Nala.  “Like this?”

            “Directly at her,” Kotake snapped, grabbing Sapphia’s wrists and directing the Topaz straight at the struggling Nala.  “There.  Now, do not do this next step yet.  Wait until I tell you.  What you must do is clear your mind and focus on one specific objective.  You must will your mind to see your opponent as dead.  I don’t mean picturing yourself running her through with a knife or riddling her with arrows.  What you must focus on are the eyes.  You’ve seen death before.  Recall that image.  Remember the moment when you saw that little light go off in someone’s eyes, the moment you knew that they were no longer there.”

            Sapphia nodded slightly.  “Okay…”

            “That’s all.  Simple as that, really.”

            “Oh.”

            “Well, let’s try it out.”  Kotake glanced at Koume.  “Untie her.  We’ll let her die on her feet.”

            Hesitantly, Koume turned to look at Nala, still fighting against her bonds.  She narrowed her eyes on the Din Silver.  Instantly, it froze completely.  With a great tug, Nala managed to shatter the metal, freeing herself.  In the next second, she was up on her feet, pulling a small dagger out of her boot.  “Traitor!” she shouted, pointing it at Sapphia.

            “I’m no such thing,” Sapphia replied, her hands trembling as she clutched the Topaz.  “I’m returning the Gerudo nation to its glory.”

            “You’re returning the Gerudo nation to its slavery under Ganondorf Dragmire and these two crones.”

            “You don’t understand,” Sapphia told her.

            “I know what I must do.  That parasite inside of you must die.”  With a snarl, she rushed forward, screaming, “Ya!” at the top of her lungs and ready to plunge the knife directly into Sapphia.

            “Now!” Kotake yelled.

            For a moment, Koume was absolutely certain that Nala would stab Sapphia in the belly, but in the next instant, all thoughts vanished and a new horror played out.  Half a pace away, Nala froze, suspended.  The air around her seemed to be rippling, like the surface of a lake that had once been smooth, only to be disturbed by a sudden splash as a boulder fell in.  At first, the ripples were wide, encompassing all of the space around Nala, but they began to close in, surrounding her in a tighter and tighter confine, though her body did not move.  The ripples turned amber, the same color as the Topaz, and with that, no further ceremony, Nala dropped down to the ground, the dagger tumbling out of her hand.

            The three survivors didn’t move for a good while.  Sapphia’s face seemed to be frozen in a look that combined terror with fascination.  For her own part, Koume was disgusted by the entire display.  One Gerudo killing another!  It was Kotake, with a look of glee stretched over her wrinkled face, who finally broke the stillness.  She walked over to the lifeless body of Nala on the floor, bending over with the popping of her knees, to touch two of her gnarled fingers to the pulse point under her chin.  “Dead,” she said simply.

 

            In days gone by, Link would sometimes gaze to the northern most part of the Gerudo Valley.  If the sun was high, he would sometimes see the phantom outline of a pyramid in the distance, farther than he dared to go.  Generally, he dismissed it for a mere trick of the light, or dehydration, both of which had often played horrendous games with him in the past.  Now he knew.  This wasn’t some mirage or hallucination, this was the temple of Din, the holiest shrine of the Gerudo nation, until now, nothing more than a name to him.

            The temple was beautiful, build of onyx which allowed the sun to gleam off, making the black stone look pure white.  At each point of the compass, a good fifty paces from the slanted walls, tall obelisks stood sentry, casting shadows to a sharp angle with the sunlight.  These were engraved with the many facets of Din, sixteen of them in total, about which, Link knew absolutely nothing.  He looked down.  Resting in the palm of his glove was Jadis’ pendant, engraved with similar, but impossibly smaller icons that matched these.  “Well,” he said, scanning the surroundings, “I guess we go in now and find out how much they like Jadis.”

            He dismounted his horse, a horrid, old nag that the Kodiak had given to him for the ride.  He supposed they assumed he would not be returning, and felt it best not to give him a horse they wanted back.  Vaguely, he wondered if they expected him not to return because he would forget, or not to return because he would be dead.  Either way, he found himself rather wishing he had Epona with him now, instead.

            Beside him, Nebekah dismounted her equally dilapidated horse.  Beyond her, Mika and Tyro struggled off of the ride they had shared, owing to Mika’s extreme inexperience with horses.  The uneasy tension that had persisted between the two of them all week seemed to have eased.  Link still didn’t feel bold enough to ask what it had been about, but he was glad to see they were on good terms again, whatever those good terms meant.

            “This way,” Nebekah told them, gesturing to one of the sides of the pyramid that was turned away.

            “Lay on,” Link said, gesturing for her to take the lead.

            The four of them tied their rides to a nearby palm tree and began to follow around the side of the building.  “What Pride runs this temple?” Tyro asked, readjusting the pole on his back.

            “No Pride,” Nebekah replied.  “These are Gerudo who don’t believe in those kind of allegiances.  They dedicate everything to Din.  Their ancestors date back to the time of unity.  When the Prides split, a select few didn’t want to choose sides, so they became the first priestesses of the temple.”

            “So you don’t call them the Priestess Pride?” he mumbled.

            “They don’t belong to any Pride,” she repeated.  “Anyone is welcome to come here.  The territory of Din is neutral territory.”

            “Oh.”

            By now, the entrance to the temple had appeared.  The doorway was empty and unassuming.  Standing before it was a Gerudo girl, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen, wearing vestal robes of deep crimson.  Her hair was divided into dozens of braids, making her seem, to Link, like a missionary from New Kasuto.  She raised her hand, shielding her eyes from the sun, to examine these new arrivals.  “Who are you?” she demanded in a voice too powerful for her tiny frame.

            “Emissaries,” Link told her.  He held up the necklace, dangling it in her view and hoping that it was worth the journey.

            The girl examined the amulet for a moment from where she was.  Deciding it was worth further investigation, she stepped forward, taking it from Link’s hand.  “Jadis has sent you?” she finally asked.

            “We’re here on behalf of the entire Gerudo nation,” Link said, hoping to avoid lying if he could.  “Each of the Alphas of each of the Prides has given us their blessing.  We come to try and save the people from a second servitude to Ganondorf Dragmire and the Twinrova sisters.”

            For a moment, she eyed Tyro and Link.  “Normally, men are not permitted to enter our sacred temple, but since you come bearing Jadis’ talisman, we shall make an exception for you.”  With that, she turned around, walking into the unassuming doorframe.

            The others exchanged nervous glances.  “I guess we go in now,” Nebekah said.

            “Guess?” Tyro repeated.  “Guess?  You’re supposed to be our primary source of exposition.”

            “Well, I’ve never brought men to the temple of Din before,” she replied.

            They entered, silently, with a sense of deep respect.  After following a narrow tunnel, they arrived in the entryway.  Somehow, the chamber looked much bigger than the outside of the temple itself.  It was grand, everything made of silver, spouting dozens of hallways and staircases, leading to places Link could only imagine.  In the very center of the hall was a pedestal, empty.  At once, Link knew that had once been the resting place of the Gerudo Topaz.

            The girl was waiting for them inside.  “Why have you come?” she asked again.

            “To learn about the Gerudo Topaz,” Link said.

            She nodded.  “Our historical archives will tell you everything you want to know.  But you may not enter the other chambers of the temple, dressed as you are.  You must put on the robes of Din and leave your weapons behind.”  She walked to a wooden chest, resting beside a door.  Opening it, she removed a pile of neatly folded, bright scarlet robes.  She handed one set to each of them before turning to Link and Tyro.  “You two may change in here.  Leave your clothing and your weapons by the door.”  She turned next to Nebekah and Mika.  “You two will change in the bath.  Follow me.”  And without ceremony, she headed down a hallway.

            Link glanced at the girls.  “We’ll meet up after,” he told them.

            “All right,” Nebekah said.  She put a hand on Mika’s shoulder.  Mika seemed a bit distracted, watching Tyro, but at the touch of Nebekah’s palm, she snapped out of her daze, nodded, and together, the two of them followed after the novice who had let them into the temple.

            Feeling incredibly self conscious, Link slowly began to undress, folding his green tunic on the floor and placing his gauntlets on top.  For a moment, he stood there, shirtless, examining the blue tattoo on his wrist, the one that had led him to Mika in the first place.  Shaking the cobwebs from his mind, he pulled on the red robes and started to unbuckle his belt.  “Do you think we’ll learn anything important?” he asked Tyro in a lame attempt at small talk.

            “What?” Tyro murmured vaguely.

            “Important, do you think we’ll…” he turned around, realizing that Tyro had not moved.  He stood, rooted to his spot, watching the hall where Mika and Nebekah had vanished a moment earlier.  “Tyro?”

            The sound of his own name did the trick.  Tyro blinked, turning to look at Link.  “Sorry, I…”

            “It’s fine,” Link told him.  “Just start changing.”

            Tyro obeyed.  “Link,” he said, pulling his tunic up over his head and tossing it unceremoniously to one side.  “I guess you already know that I feel…deeply…for your sister.”

            “I kind of noticed,” Link told him, shimmying out of his leggings and picking them up.

            “I…well…I love her.”

            Link paused a moment, examining him.  “You do?”

            “I do.”  He held up his hands.  “I know what kind of reputation I have.  And it’s well earned, but this is different.  The way I feel about her, it’s not like how I used to be.  I don’t think I’m that person anymore.”

            “I see.”

            “And so…before it goes too far, I want to get your blessing.”

            “My blessing?”

            “To be with your sister,” he said.  “To court her in a proper way.  As a gentleman.”

            Sighing softly, Link began to fold up his leggings.  “Tyro, I’m not sure I can give you that.”

            “I know I’ve been a cad!  But it’s different now, I swear.”

            “No,” Link said quickly.  “You don’t understand.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “I can’t give you any kind of blessing, because I don’t have the right.  Yes, Mika is my sister, but she’s only been my sister for a few weeks.  I don’t really have the right to meddle in her life, let alone give someone else permission or deny it.”

            “Oh.  I guess I understand.”

            “I think she needs to be the one to decide if you’re worthy or not.”

            “What would make me worthy?” he asked.

            “I don’t know, really,” Link said.  “I guess, you’d have to be someone that Mika could like.  I mean, love is all very well, but I don’t think it’s worth much unless you like the other person too.”

            “What does Mika like?”

            Link laughed softly.  “I’m still trying to figure that part out.”

            “Oh.”

            “She’s lived among the Gerudo her whole life,” Link said.  “My guess is that had very much defined how she thinks.”

            “She likes…Gerudo?”

            “I think,” he said, “she likes people who embody the spirit of the Gerudo.”

            “What does that mean?”

            He shrugged slightly.  “What are the Gerudo values?  Bravery?  Honor?  Great fortitude?”

            “She wants a Hero,” Tyro sighed.

            “I don’t know.”

            Tyro shook his head.  “The values she appreciates, they aren’t me, are they?  I’m not a Hero.”

            “I don’t know,” Link said again.  “I can only guess at what she’s thinking.  I haven’t known her long enough yet.”

            “Neither have I,” Tyro said.

            “But you love her?”

            “I do.”

            “That’s something.”

            “But not enough.”

 

            Nabooru clasped her hands behind her back, staring at the tall statue of Din out in the middle of the courtyard.  How serene the goddess looked, how calm and tranquil.  She reigned over the décor without a single care, smiling blithely in spite of the growing danger around her.  Perhaps it was rude to turn her back on a guest, but Nabooru’s nerves were steadily building to a frantic pulse that forced her, momentarily, to direct her attention elsewhere.  Nassan would arrive at any moment.  Fortunately, Alpha Petaleen didn’t seem to mind.  She continued to speak, despite the fact that Nabooru’s attention was torn.

            “It wasn’t easy,” Petaleen was saying, “but eventually, we managed to drive them back, slaughtering the whole lot that were foolish enough to remain behind and challenge us.”  She had been going on and on about the Jaguar resistance against the invading Kodiak for some length.  Hearing about the Dark Times always pained Nabooru, reminding her of the way she had failed her people in becoming a pawn of Twinrova, but somehow, that was nowhere near as nerve wracking as what was awaiting her.  She didn’t tell Petaleen however, just let her continue.  “We made certain that no one would ever forget the name Jaguar.”

            “Mmhmm…” Nabooru muttered.

            “Our strength of arms may have paled, but our spirit could not be broken.  No one beats us.”

            “May you maintain that strength for all time,” Nabooru said.  “Especially in the trials to come.”

            “I still want to know the meaning of this summons,” Petaleen said, planting her hands on her hips.

            “In a moment,” Nabooru told her.  She had heard it.  At first, part of her wished it to be nothing but a phantom echo in the back of her mind, but she knew it was there now.  Footsteps approaching the greeting chamber.  With all her strength, she forced herself to look away from the window into the courtyard, turning to the door.  It lingered there, ominously empty.  Any minute now, that would change.

            Petaleen seemed oblivious to Nabooru’s internal distress.  “I wouldn’t normally obey so blandly, but I’m only acting on behalf of Beta Nebekah.  I suppose she’s the true Alpha now and my actions should reflect what her will would be.  She’s always spoken highly of you.”

            “I appreciate your coming,” Nabooru said absently, the waiting slowly closing a vice around her throat.

            “Well, I do it on her behalf,” she reiterated.

            But Nabooru on longer paid her much attention.  In the doorway, three figures had appeared.  The first was Liandra, her Beta, looking stoic as ever.  Behind Liandra entered two foreigners, representatives of the Saber Tooth Pride.  The first, Nabooru took to be the Saber Tooth Beta, whose name she honestly didn’t remember.  The second, she knew immediately to be Nassan.  How different she looked from the last time they had met.  Nassan had grown so much since then, become a striking woman, an Alpha in every way from her stature to her skeptical eyes that now scanned the room before at last falling on Nabooru.

            “Alpha,” Liandra announced importantly, “I present Beta Kae’lee, daughter of Chava, and Alpha Nassan, daughter of –”

            “Yes,” Nabooru cut her off.  “Thank you, Liandra.”

            Flustered, Liandra turned to the Saber Tooth guests.  “Nabooru, daughter of Nyala, first Alpha of the Dragon Pride.  As an afterthought, she added, “And Alpha Petaleen of the Jaguar Pride.”

            Both Nabooru and Petaleen crossed their wrists in salute.  Nassan and Kae’lee did the same.  “Liandra,” Nabooru said.  “Please assign Beta Kae’lee to guest accommodations for me.”

            “Yes, Alpha,” Liandra replied.  To Kae’lee, she said, “This way please,” and led her out.

            The three Alphas silently listened until the footsteps fell silent.  Nabooru cleared her throat.  “You’re looking well,” she said to Nassan.

            Nassan nodded, clearly feeling just as uncomfortable.  “Thank you.”

            “Look at you, the Saber Tooth Alpha.  I would never have thought it.”

            “The turnaround for an Alpha in our Pride is rapid,” Nassan responded with a slight shrug.

            “Congratulations.”

            “Now that we’ve dispensed with the pleasantries,” Nassan continued, “I would like to know the meaning of this command summons.”

            “It was not a command,” Nabooru said tightly.

            “Forgive me.  It’s difficult to tell on occasion.”

            Brushing aside the comment, Nabooru turned, addressing both Nassan and Petaleen.  “I have called all the Gerudo Alphas together due to a single, shared experience we have all dealt with in the past few weeks.”

            “Shared experience?” Nassan repeated.

            “What’s that?” Petaleen asked.

            “A visit from the Hero of Time, and his band of warriors.”

            Petaleen scowled.  “How did you know about that?”

            “He’s been to see every Pride,” Nabooru said.

            “Asking for the Shards,” Nassan supplied.

            Nabooru held another look with Nassan for a moment before continuing.  “They’re on a quest to defeat the Twinrova sisters a second time,” she said.  “And they can’t do it alone.  They need help.”

            “Help?” Petaleen said.

            “Our help.  The help of the Gerudo.”

            The Jaguar Alpha rolled her eyes.  “What can we do?  The Twinrova sisters easily took over last time.  I don’t see how we can stop them this time.”

            “They took over because they had the Kodiak on their side and because alliances and feuds drove the rest of us apart.”  Nabooru sighed.  “It must end if we’re going to survive.  The Gerudo Prides must band together to help Link defeat this evil.  The entire world could be at stake.”

            “Are you suggesting we wage war on them?” Petaleen snorted.

            “The war has already begun,” Nabooru said.  “There have been casualties already, as I’m sure you can well attest.  But we can keep it from getting worse.  We can see to it that no family is ever torn apart again.”

            “Yes,” Nassan said dryly, “we wouldn’t want that.”

            Instantly, Nabooru locked eyes with Nassan again.  They stood there like two dogs, waiting to see which one would surrender first.  Neither blinked, neither dared, but soon, it was Nassan who looked away.  “My goal will benefit the entire Gerudo nation,” Nabooru said tightly.  “Every Pride, every Gerudo.”

            “I see,” Nassan replied shortly.

            Nabooru looked from one to the other.  “But in order for this to work, I will need the cooperation of every Pride.  I realize there are rivalries, there is great bitterness, and there are problems to be dealt with, but nothing worth doing is every easy.  I’m asking you to try.”

            Nassan glanced at Petaleen.  “I have no quarrels with the Jaguar Pride.  I will call you sister.”

            “And I have none with the Saber Tooth,” Petaleen replied.  “Nor with the Dragon,” she added to Nabooru.

            For a third time, Nassan and Nabooru locked eyes.  There was a seething glare coming from Nassan, one that cut Nabooru to the quick.  Softly, she lowered her own eyes, allowing Nassan to be the dominant one.  “Do not let personal grudges stand in the way of your entire Pride’s future,” she said softly.

            Nassan nodded slightly.  “Very well, I will march alongside the Dragon Pride,” she said.

            “Thank you.”

            “But I will not endure the company of their Alpha.”  She nodded to Petaleen.  “Excuse me.”  And with that, she left, marching out of the yawning doorway, doubtlessly in search of her companion and safety far from the room.

            “What was that about?” Petaleen murmured after a brief moment.

            “Hmm?” Nabooru grunted.

            “I couldn’t help but notice a bit of tension between the two of you,” Petaleen said.  “What was it?”

            Nabooru sighed, shaking her head.  “It’s complicated.”

            “Why so?”       

            She shrugged.  “Nassan is my daughter.”

            “Your daughter?”

            “I sent her away,” Nabooru explained, “back when Ganondorf first became a threat.  I knew he would come after me.  I thought she would be safer living among the Saber Tooth.  I had every intention of fetching her again.  I didn’t count on the Dark Times lasting as long as they did.  When it was over, Nassan was happy to be where she was and I couldn’t remove her from the life she knew.”

            “Interesting.”

            “Unfortunately, she had also grown to resent me for leaving her.”  Nabooru shook her head.  There is nothing more painful than being hated by your own child.”  She glanced at Petaleen.  “Do you have any children?”

            “No,” Petaleen said.  Her answer was immediate, clipped, with no amount of uncertainty.  But looking into her eyes, Nabooru was fairly certain she saw a flicker of hesitation.

 

            The novice who had greeted them at the door, whose name turned out to be Siri, was quite accommodating once she seemed secure that they had not come with ill intentions.  After the members of Link’s fellowship changed into the robes, they were brought into an enormous crypt beneath the main sanctuary.  Link had just barely been able to glance into the temple as they were brought down the creaking wooden stairs.  From what little he saw of it, he got a clear sense of the reverence the Gerudo people held for the goddess. 

Din’s primary sanctuary was taller than North Castle, gleaming with bright silver walls, all encrusted with rubies and engravings that told the many stories the Gerudo believed about their creation.  In the center of the chamber, he made out a marble altar, stained red from the sacrifice of generations of animals dedicated to Din.  The room was lined with small alcoves, nearly every five paces, and in each alcove lived a stunning representation of the goddess, dressed in silks and finery that outshone even the most extravagant of palaces.

The passing glance was over before it began and the ground rose as Link descended into the crypt.  Siri led them expertly through the catacombs, so quickly that Link feared he’d lose the way.  Finally, she brought them to a small burial chamber.  It was hewn out of the stone foundation of the temple itself.  Compared to the sanctuary above, it was oddly devoid of trappings.  The stone walls were still carved with Gerudo runes, telling a story that Link could not read, but there was no gold, no silver, no precious gems.  The room was humble and bare.  In the very center of the chamber was a marble sarcophagus, engraved with a tranquil woman’s face, though the rest of her body, if it had been carved at all, had been worn away by time.

“Wait here,” Siri told them.

“For what?” Mika asked.

“Aurelia,” Siri answered.  And with that, she swept out of the chamber again, vanishing from sight.

Mika blinked.  “Who’s Aurelia?”

“She must be the keeper of the crypt,” Nebekah supposed, scanning the runes etched into the walls.

Link walked over to her side.  “Can you read them?”

Nebekah shook her head.  “These are old.  Older than my Pride.”

“Older than any Pride,” Mika pointed out.  “Doesn’t the temple date back to the time of unity?”

“What is that anyway?” Tyro murmured.  “How long?”

“About four hundred years,” Nebekah said.

Something sparked in Link’s mind, but before he could fully think it through, they heard footsteps approaching.  Into the chamber came a Gerudo woman.  She had dark skin, stretched tight over her withered face.  From her snowy white hair, it was clear that she was very old, but she wasn’t wrinkled.  She wore her age with a certain dignity from the way she carried the cane before her to the height to which she tilted her chin.  As he examined her face, Link noticed an odd, milky look to her eyes.  It hit him almost a second later.  She was blind.

“Aurelia?” Link said tentatively.  “Are you Aurelia.”

Sharply, Aurelia turned her face in his direction.  Though it was obvious she could not see, Link could still feel her gaze upon him in a most unnatural sort of way.  “I answer to that name,” she replied.  Her voice was deep and rich.  It had an odd soothing effect.

“Thank you for seeing us,” Link said.  Immediately, he realized his error.  Beside him, Nebekah clapped a hand over her mouth.  Tyro looked like he was trying to suppress a grin.  Mika rolled her eyes.  “Er…I mean…not seeing us…you probably can’t really…that is.”

She smiled slightly.  “It’s all right,” she told him.  “I am somewhat aware of the fact that I’m blind.”

“Right…”

“Siri tells me you’ve come with questions about the Topaz?”

“That’s right,” Nebekah said.

Aurelia turned her unseeing eyes toward Nebekah.  “Well, you’ve come to the right place.”

“I thought we were supposed to go to the historical archives,” Mika said.  “Not a graveyard.”

“The crypt contains the entire history of this temple,” Aurelia said.  “Back to the unwritten time.  The Gerudo Topaz was kept within the confines of this building until the separation of the Prides.  Is that sufficient history for you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mika said meekly.

“Good.”  Aurelia smiled.  “Now, would you like to learn a little bit about this room we’re in?”

“Yes, please,” Link said.  He felt fairly certain it was best not to try this woman.  This was her domain and he would play by her rules.

“This is the final resting place of a high priestess of the temple of Din from nearly four hundred years ago.  She was called Circe.”  Aurelia touched the sarcophagus.  “She led the congregation during the time of the great separation.”

“She welcomed those who did not want to choose a Pride, didn’t she?” Nebekah asked cautiously.

Aurelia nodded, pleased that someone knew the story.  “That is correct,” she affirmed.

“She had the Topaz when it was last assembled then, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“I saw her image,” Nebekah said.  “On the wall of the Kodiak chamber of Din.  She divided the Topaz into Shards, didn’t she?”

“Again, you are dead on,” Aurelia praised her.

            Tyro frowned.  “How did she divide up the Topaz into Shards?”

            “She used a spell,” Aurelia said.  “She had no choice.”

            “No choice?” Link repeated.

            “It was not Din’s will that the Gerudo should separate into Prides.  And so it was not her will for the Topaz to be divided.”  Aurelia walked over to one of the walls with expert steps.  She placed a withered hand on the carvings, running her fingertips over them with a delicate touch.  “Circe was forced to divide the Topaz, or risk the Prides endlessly contending for the right to possess it.”  Link realized that she seemed to be reading the runes with her fingers.  “She summoned the power of lightening and fire and divided the Topaz into five Shards, presenting each to an Alpha of one of the brand new Prides.”

            “Not to be rude,” Mika said, “but we already know that part.  Our problem is that the Topaz has been reassembled.  It’s some kind of weapon.”

            “But Din was displeased with this turn of events,” Aurelia continued, ignoring Mika’s interruption.  “And sought to punish the priestess for her actions.”

            “Punish her?” Nebekah said.

            “Mmhmm…” Aurelia murmured.  “Din decided that since Circe had divided the Topaz, she would divide something of Circe’s in return.”

            Link shifted uneasily.  “What did she divide?”

            “She divided Circe’s daughter.”

            “Din cut up a little girl?!” Tyro cried.

            “Nothing like that,” Aurelia replied.  “Din divided the child into two living parts, separating each virtue and attribute between them so that one could not possess what the other had.”

            “Okay,” Link said, folding his arms.  Already, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach about where this was going.  “What was the little girl’s name?”

            Aurelia smiled, somehow sensing his foresight.  “She was called Rova.”

            “Sweet Nayru!” Tyro exclaimed.

            “Rova?” Mika said.  “Twinrova?”

            “Precisely,” Aurelia said.

            “Separated their virtues,” Nebekah muttered.  “So that one could not possess what the other one had?  You mean, like fire and ice?”

            “Fire and ice, wisdom and foolishness, power and weakness, passive and aggressive,” Aurelia listed them off.  “Each had one half of the combination that every person ought to possess.  Each was incomplete without the other and each was vulnerable to the other’s power.”

            “Which is how blondie was able to defeat them the first time,” Nebekah said.  “He used each of their powers against the other.”

            “The first time?” Aurelia said.

            “They’ve returned,” Mika chimed in.  “And they’ve assembled the Topaz once again.”

            “Of course they did,” Aurelia said knowingly.

            “Why do you say that?”

            Aurelia walked along the wall, running her fingers across the runes until she came to whatever it was she was seeking.  “The sisters, Kotake and Koume, hoped to reunite the Gerudo Prides, perhaps hoping that they would be made whole again.  And so, they set about their life’s work of finding a leader to bring together the Prides.”

            “That’s Ganondorf,” Link groaned.  “They created him to unite the Gerudo?”

            “Bad plan,” Nebekah deadpanned.

            “Anything they do,” Aurelia said, “any plan they attempt, is taking them one step closer to being truly reunited.  And not as Twinrova, but as Rova, a complete person.  Whether it is trying to bring together the Shards or trying to reunite the Gerudo Prides, their ultimate end is to restore themselves.”

            “Seems to me that Kotake’s more interested in power and domination,” Mika pointed out.

            “She must be that half of Rova,” Nebekah said.  “The half with ambition.  The half that wants power.  And Koume must be the one who…doesn’t?  I’m not sure, it’s a little confusing.”

            “Would reassembling the Topaz somehow bring them together?” Link asked Aurelia.

            “No,” she replied, “but it could very well be a part of their plan to reunite the Prides under one leader.”

            “What do you mean?”

            Again, Aurelia moved along the wall, finding a new set of runes.  “There is a prophecy.”

            Link groaned.  “There’s always a prophecy!”

            “About a boy who was destined to defeat their great king.”

            “That’s you, blondie,” Nebekah murmured.

            “The Kodiak learned of the prophecy,” Aurelia said.  “Many years ago.  And told it to the Twinrova sisters.”

            “That explains why the Kodiak burned Kasuto,” Tyro said.  “They knew to look for you.”

            “Which explains…” Link trailed off, looking at the tattoo on his wrist.  He glanced over at Mika.  “Somehow, our parents knew…”

            “The Twinrova sisters were aware that they most likely would be unable to defeat this prophecy,” Aurelia continued, “and so they implemented a failsafe.  Which probably explains their fixation on the Topaz.”

            “What’s the failsafe?” Nebekah asked.

            “A way to restore their king, Ganondorf.  A spell, one of extraordinary circumstances.  Those are the most difficult to prevent from being cast.”

            Mika leaned closer.  “Do you know what it is?”

            “I do,” Aurelia admitted.  “The spell would enable them to revive Ganondorf’s soul in a new being.”

            “How?” Link asked.

            “But killing the one who first killed him.”

            “Me.”

            “Yes.”

            “What are the circumstances they would need to do this?”

            “The new being would have to be on the verge of being born.  A child in the womb.  A child possessing some part of Ganondorf.  He was the Alpha of Kodiak Pride, so the child’s father would have to be descended from an Alpha.  And in order to implant the soul of the murdered, the murderer’s soul would have to be painlessly removed.  And that is what the Topaz does.”

            Link rubbed his eyes.  “I don’t understand.”

            “The Topaz is a weapon,” Aurelia said.  “It destroys a soul by pulling it out of the person it kills.”

            “That makes sense,” Link told her.  “But I don’t understand the circumstances of the prophecy.  It’s a little complicated.  I’m just a dumb warrior.”

            “In short,” Aurelia sighed irritably, “Ganondorf Dragmire will be reborn if a Gerudo with child by an Alpha’s son kills the enemy who defeated Ganondorf in a painless death.”

            “That is so confusing,” Nebekah groaned.

            “I know,” Aurelia laughed.  “That’s why it’s such a brilliant failsafe.  The most complicated and confusing spells are always the most difficult to prevent from being cast.”

            “So how do we prevent Ganondorf from being reborn?” Link sighed.

            Nebekah shrugged.  “Seems simple to me.  You don’t die.”

            “Thanks,” he grumbled.  “I need more than that.”

            “Well, the Twinrova sisters are probably expecting you to come after them, blondie.  Which means they’ll probably give you free access to their fortress.  You waltz right in to try and retrieve the Topaz and bam!  They get you.”

            “Where?”

            “Where what?”

            “Where would they be waiting for me?”

            Again, Nebekah shrugged.  “Probably in the most obvious place you could think of.  You tell me.”

            He thought about it a moment.  “Probably where I defeated them.  Their old palace.”

            “Makes sense.  You show up there and the next thing you know, the Topaz is sucking out your soul and making Ganondorf junior.”

            “Indeed,” Aurelia affirmed.  “The Topaz is a powerful weapon.”

            “There’s a riddle,” Link said.  “Some kind of poem that’s supposed to prevent the Topaz from killing, but I can’t solve it.”  He glanced at Aurelia hopefully.  “Maybe you can help.  It starts with ‘One thing stands between the stone and the grave…’”

            “‘…it cannot be held, yet it can fill the air…’” Nebekah continued.

            “‘…everyone who wants it can find it…’”

            “‘…though it cannot be seen, it can be felt…’”

            “And ‘…it has many homes and will constantly find others,’” Link concluded.  “Do you know what it means?”

            Aurelia shook her head.  “I am sorry,” she said genuinely.  “But I’m afraid I don’t know what that means.  I’ve never heard it before.”

            “It was written in ancient Hylian,” Link admitted.

            “Perhaps,” Aurelia mused, “it was penned by the very hand of Din.  A way to protect the innocent.”

            “Guys,” Mika said suddenly.

            Nebekah glanced at her.  “What is it?”

            “Where’s Tyro?”

            As they looked around, however, they realized that there was no sign of him anywhere.  “He’s gone,” Link said.

            “I hate it when he does that,” Nebekah muttered.

 

            Nabooru arrived at the doorway to the fortress just as it closed.  There, standing in front of the gate, she saw Medea, looking around curiously, her robes rustling gently in the breeze.  Doubtlessly, things had changed in the seventeen years since she had last visited the Dragon stronghold, but nothing had changed more than the weathered Alpha Nabooru herself.  “Medea,” she called, striding out to meet her, crossing her wrists in the customary salute.

            Medea turned to look at her.  “Nabooru.”  She returned the gesture, the dazed look slowly siphoning away from her eyes.  If Nabooru never met with her again, she knew that she would always remember Medea’s eyes.  They held such focus, such concentration, betraying everything that was constantly going on beneath her placid surface.

            “Thank you for coming.”

            She frowned.  “You act as though you were expecting me.”

            A small frown formed on Nabooru’s lips.  “I sent summons to you a few days ago.”

            “Where did you send it?”

            “The Orca compound.”

            “Oh.”  Medea laughed.  It was strange sound, somewhat rusty as though she did not use it often enough.  “I haven’t been there for two weeks.  I was staying with the Kodiak.”

            “The Kodiak?” Nabooru repeated, raising an eyebrow.  “You went traveling?  How very unlike you.”

            She dipped her head in acknowledgement.  “Much has changed,” Medea replied simply.

            They regarded each other for a moment.  Nabooru could feel the delicacy of the situation.  It was precisely the same way it had felt seventeen years ago when they first met face to face, what should have been their last meeting ever.  “Why have you come here?”

            At the same time, Medea asked, “Why did you summon me?”

            Both women laughed nervously for a moment.  The laughter died quickly, returning Nabooru to the stark reality of what she was about to do.  Well, she had been brave all her life, she could do this now.