The Burning Seasons by Vayleen

Disclaimer: I do not own The Legend of Zelda, which belongs to Nintendo.


~*~*~*~*~*~


The Burning Seasons

The Legend of Zelda fanfiction by Vayleen


~*~*~*~*~*~


Chapter One


~*~*~*~*~*~


I: the images we do not speak of

The Goddesses Three created life. In their image, they created Hylians. In the Old World, Hylians lived to govern Overworld and all the denizens therein. In the Old World, all life was sacred, all gifts divine. Magic rippled under the land and brought life to all who cherished the gifts and gave back to the land. This was the cycle, and the cycle was Law.

History tells of a time, after the monarchies were overthrown, when Hylians left the Age of Wonder and moved into the Age of Industry. Slowly the world changed from a land where all life was scared to a world of factories, manufacturing and material commerce. Cities were built and continents were transpired. Lands were plotted in great numbers, lakes were filled and towers were being built that reached far into the sky. Cities became denser, countries less isolated. Soon the rapid commerce of Industry gave way to the Age of Technology. By this time, many creatures, also created by the Goddesses Three, had all but disappeared into myth. They had no where to go; cities now spanned Overworld and the land was completely pillaged, save the deepest part of the ocean, the most hostile of the desert or the last of the forests.

The Goddesses Three were still worshiped by many but were no longer a governing factor in day-to-day life. Instead, people concentrated on prosperity and monetary gain. Intellect was only valued if it could bring material profit. Beauty was a set ideal. Truth was relative. Magic was all but gone in the shadow of Science. Good and Bad became grayer and grayer, fading into each-other and creasing the lines. Soon the faded lines were crossed, or not crossed, no one could really tell anymore, and entire countries fell to ruin under the destruction of war. Great and powerful civilizations fell into factions, anarchy ruled many of the cities.

This was the Age of Darkness, the Age of War.

This was the Final Chapter.


~*~*~*~*~*~


The Harkinians were of the most influential in economics and politics in many countries, especially the main three Overworld powers before The Great War started. In many ways they still were, but this was mostly due to the fact that many of them were also criminals, and not the petty kind. And in times of crisis, when the world was falling apart, those that ruled underground come out on top and sometimes do more good than the closed-minded might think.

In these times, Zelda Harkinian felt she had nothing. A year ago, she was a successful graduate student in an Ivy League school. She was on the Dean’s List. She had a great career mapped out for her and she was only twenty-three. But when the bombs fell, so did all that was her academia. No one cares about transcripts and grades when the world has been destroyed. So all Zelda had going for her was the relative safety of the underground, where she was still rich and, unlike the precious majority of people, still had most of her powerful family to fall back on.

But, like today, she often felt herself running for safety.

Buildings towered above them, ominous structures, as the armored car raced down the street. She was being moved along with her father to a safe house underground since a rebel faction had discovered the location of Randall Harkinian, former governor of Lanayru province in Hyrule. Zelda kept her head tucked between her knees, her fingers crossed over her head, knuckles white. She didn’t move of speak as the sound of gunshots and grenades pierced her ears. People were shouting above them, probably her father’s bodyguard giving more orders. Slow the car down, launch missiles, protect the governor and many coded phrases she didn’t understand.

They had to change course several times before the car finally slowed down and a soldier came down to check the body amour on Randall and Zelda so that they could move out. Zelda couldn’t hear gunshots so she assumed the area, for the most part, was secure.

“Stay close to me,” her father whispered, taking her hand.

The soldier signaled for them to stay silent and follow.

The sky was a peculiar shade of yellow in Capital City. It was getting dark, probably a good thing when one was trying to hide. Zelda clung to her father’s arm. Something wasn’t quite right, she could feel it in her bones, as though something sinister was lurking beneath her marrow, laughing, screaming, triumphant...

“Get down!” Zelda screamed, dragging her father down to the ground with her.

She heard gunshots. Whatever was about to hit her father hit the man that was standing to his left instead.

“Sniper, two o’clock, rooftop!”

There was probably more.

Someone was lifting her up by the arms and dragging her towards the nearby building. She didn’t struggle but she also couldn’t see. She strained to her left, looking for the familiar head of white hair. Relief flooded her when she saw Randall not three steps behind her surrounded by soldiers and, for some reason, firing an M60 himself. She didn’t want to think about where, or who, he might have gotten it from.

The building was secure. Zelda soon found herself in a basement apartment. People greeted her by name instantly, but there was no one she recognized. She looked at them cautiously as they started talking to the guards.

Randall burst in not too much longer afterwards. Zelda was chucking off pieces of armor. She looked up when her father started talking rapidly to one of the people that greeted her earlier. Her uncle’s name came up. (At least she thought Christofis was her uncle.)

So this is his place, Zelda thought and she looked around the underground basement with renewed interest. The apartment complex Dad told me about.

The room was large, with several leather pieces of furniture and two large monitors on the walls. The floor length false windows displayed a digital city sunset that covered the far wall. Being bare otherwise, it looked like a cozy living room in a posh apartment, with a small kitchen nearby, and a few doors to the far left at the end of the room. Zelda wondered if the water ran, and if so, did the apartment have a bathroom? Would she get a shower?

“Zelda,” her father called.

She looked up.

“I’m going downstairs to see Chris. Rafi says that the water runs. Don’t wait up,” Randall said.

Zelda nodded and smiled wearily. “I won’t.”

He nodded and left soon after, along with his armored entourage. The only people left was the soldier that dragged her in, who was probably there as her bodyguard, and the three people that were already in the apartment, probably some of her family’s servants.

In any case, she really didn’t care at that point. All she wanted was a shower and some food. Maybe a strong drink. This was the twentieth or thirtieth time she moved since all hell broke loose and what she really wanted was a full night’s sleep, not that she ever expected that again.

“Goddess help me,” she grumbled as she shucked her gloves off and collapsed on the couch. A monitor hung in front of it, displaying a cheery fire. Television was all but gone since the war destroyed most of the broadcast stations but local things popped on every now and again. The internet was still up but professional hackers were everywhere. Zelda’s extensive knowledge in web surfing kept her identity safe but she wasn’t in the mood to hack. She fiddled with the armrest to her right. Eventually she triggered the control panel and it rose from the armrest. Along with TV and internet options, Zelda noticed it said “Monitor 1” “2” and “3”.

She clicked “1”.

A party revealed itself on the screen. Strobe lights and metal walls, loud electronic music and huge amounts of people crammed into one tiny space. There were tables directly below the camera. Zelda could make out her father’s bodyguard standing in front of it, his back to her, obstructing her view. Her father and uncle were probably sitting at that table.

So maybe several floors below her was one of the underground kingdoms of gambling and crime, a Harkinian secret. Zelda watched it a bit with a critical eye, numb to the fact her father finally had to turn to the more oblique side of their dynasty to find safety. Maybe she knew it would happen eventually, which was why she couldn’t work up the self-righteous reaction she would have had a year ago. Maybe she knew this was the only way to survive at this point, deep where the power still reigned.

It wasn’t unexpected.


~*~*~*~*~*~


Zelda had showered and changed back into her jeans and hooded sweater, as she only came with the clothes on her back. She braided the bottom of her strawberry-blond, hip length hair from the waist, mostly to keep it out of her face. She left the apartment after taking a brief nap in one of the two bedrooms and followed the hallways until she found the elevator. She brought a .38, stuffed in the back of her waistband. Better safe than sorry with overworked bodyguards falling asleep at inopportune moments.

There were no buttons in the elevator, only up and down. She had to stick a key she found in the kitchen with her name on it into the control panel in order for it to move. Ironically, music played from the ancient speakers in the ceiling. Zelda found that terribly funny.

The doors opened and Zelda was immediately blasted with loud music, the base of which reverberated in her spine. She was on a balcony. To her right, further down the balcony, she saw the same table she saw in the monitor. Her uncle was guffawing obnoxiously and downing shots with her father. But while Christofis was feeling up the women hanging around their table, her father was pushing them off. Probably so that he could concentrate on his cards and his money. He hated distractions.

“Welcome to hell!” the guard the right of the elevator said as she stepped off, a cheeky grin on his face.

Zelda rolled her eyes and walked in the direction away from the table. The balcony wrapped around the vast room. She wandered it until she found a stairway leading down to a lounge area. People were everywhere, drinking, yelling, fighting, fucking. She ignored it and walked towards the bar with purpose in her step. (Whether she actually had one or not was arbitrary.) She sat at the bar. It was lit up with bright, white florescent lights, a beacon in the dark club. When the bartender came up after several minutes, she ordered vodka over the noise. After another minute, the barkeep slid the drink towards her and she caught it in her right hand. Before she could lift the glass, however, it was covered by another hand.

Zelda looked down, bemused. The hand was covered by a black sliding glove. She followed the hand up the arm to the man sitting beside her, who wasn’t sitting there before. He wasn’t facing her. Zelda’s drink was yanked from her hand and, to her chagrin, the strange man took the drink and dropped it, glass and all, to the floor. Task done, he leaned back in the chair and placed his hands on top of his head. The glass had made a satisfying crash as it broke but to a woman looking to get drunk, it wasn’t cool.

“What the hell?!” she asked.

“Sorry about that.”

Zelda looked up at the bartender that just spoke, who grinned slyly at her before turning to the man.

“Seems he took a dislike to your drink. I’ll make you another.”

The bartender looked at the man next to her. He barely nodded at him, after which the bartender started mixing the new drink.

This was all rather peculiar to Zelda and she turned to the strange man and narrowed her eyes. Deciphering a reason for the behavior was easy enough.

“Are you here with my uncle or my father?” she asked him.

He merely pointed behind him back towards the balcony where Zelda knew her father was probably watching her.

“I take it there was something in my drink that offended you?”

“GHB,” the bartender said, returning with a new drink.

She looked back up at the bartender.

“Standard procedure when we see someone we don’t recognize or think suspicious,” the bartender said with a smile. “Can’t be too trusting in the underground.”

“I’m sure that’s reason enough,” Zelda said tartly, not believing at all that was the only reason the bartenders were told to drug young women. She took her drink and sipped, coughed as the potent liquor hit her throat. That vodka definitely wasn’t the cheap stuff.

Zelda looked at her new bodyguard from the corner of her eye. She couldn’t see him very well, but she could count at least four firearms on his person. He probably had more.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

He swiveled his chair, hands still on head, to face her. Zelda turned towards him and was immediately struck by his large eyes and their intense blue color. Then she noted he barely looked old enough to drink himself. Not that the laws would be enforced in the underground in the middle of a war anyway.

He cocked his head to one side. Probably because he didn’t hear her question over the music.

Zelda repeated the question, leaning towards him.

He shrugged his answer.

“What’s your name?” Zelda asked.

He just looked at her.

Zelda huffed inwardly. Normally the strong, silent type was her favorite kind of bodyguard but misery loves company, especially drinking misery. She usually got a much older guard, someone her dad knew. This man was probably younger then she was. And in a dark world, company was hard to find. Maybe she wanted to pretend for awhile, that she could actually hit on someone in a bar, like she could a year ago, as though she was still in college.

But she wasn’t. He knew that. He was doing a job.

Zelda looked up quickly, startled by the sound of his voice. He had leaned towards her to tell her his name but she didn’t understand what he said. It sounded foreign, like he was from the East Islands.

She smiled. “I didn’t catch that.”

He looked at her. Really looked at her. Then he smiled slightly back. “Just call me Link,” he said


~*~*~*~*~*~


II: the way the pieces fall

Link mused that there really wasn’t any such thing as a gilded cage. In a secret world, covered with every sinful desire, he still felt like he was suffocating. But it was work, and probably the best a man could find in a time of constant war. Ever since the military “disbanded,” or, in reality, fell into complete corruption when dozens of governments collapsed, he had been moving constantly with no way to return home.

He found Christofis Harkinian while searching for water and shelter in a particularly shady part of downtown Capital City. People he thought were thugs tried to mug him for, in his opinion, absolutely no reason. (Not that people needed one anymore.) Link was already exhausted from running away from two members of a militant faction. Looking back on it, the way he effectively - and again, effectively - got rid of one of the thugs might have been a little extreme. And it got him bound, gagged and interrogated by the mafia. And later, a job offer.

The irony wasn’t lost to him.

Link enjoyed weapons and martial arts, which helped him earn a place in an elitist naval academy before the war started, and a job as muscle in the criminal element afterwards. It was more an issue of self-preservation than an issue of trust for Harkinian to have him as a bodyguard. Link could respect that.

Though his current situation was a lot less ideal then he thought it was going to be when Former Governor Harkinian sent him downstairs to watch out for his daughter. Unlike most girls he saw drunk, Zelda became more pseudo-philosophical the more shots of vodka she drowned. Link watched absentmindedly as she worked herself up over another haphazard point, gesticulating rapidly with her hands, violet eyes flashing. She probably barely noticed that he didn’t say more than three words since he told her his name. Then again, maybe that was why she was talking so much.

Earlier, Link signaled to the bartender to stop giving her shots and to start giving her water. Harkinian had told him he was going to hold a meeting later with the former governor and Link needed to be there. He didn’t want to risk carrying the waif back to her apartment over his shoulder and watching her in case of alcohol poisoning.

“Morikono.”

Link reached down to his belt and picked up his radio, the receiver of which was in his ear. He looked up behind him at the balcony. Harkinian waved down at him.

“How much has she had to drink?” Harkinian asked him through the radio.

Link glanced at Zelda. She was angrily making a theological point at the frightened looking bartender.

“She’s not too bad,” Link answered.

“Bring her with you. We’ll be starting the meeting earlier than expected.”

Must be later in the night, or earlier in the morning, than he thought.


~*~*~*~*~*~


Zelda followed her silent companion back up the stairway and towards the table she saw her father and uncle at previously. She recited verses in her head to try and clear the alcoholic fog, which was effective enough that she thought she might be able to conduct herself without being in too much of a stupor. Link didn’t explain anything about the mystery meeting, just that she was suddenly on the guest list, so she wanted to be prepared for anything.

When they reached the table, Zelda sat next to her father, who was alone. He was wearing a different shirt and his hair was wet so he’d probably been back to the apartment. She asked him what time it was.

“It’s seven in the morning,” Randall said, a bit of a growl in his voice.

Zelda may have been perfectly safe in that funny antiparadise, but that wouldn’t keep her father from worrying about his daughter.

She squeezed his arm and turned to look for Link. He had moved to the opposite wall, next to the guard that had greeted her when she came off the elevator. The latter was trying to tell the former a joke and Link was ignoring him.

Zelda asked Randall about Link, but learned little, save that his real name was Morikono Rinku, he worked close to her uncle, and he was from Outset Island back east. Zelda pondered on whether his silence was because he preferred not to talk or if he didn’t know enough English to hold a conversation.

Link caught her eye and Zelda looked away.

“Hello, darling!” Her uncle’s voice interrupted her musings.

“Hello, uncle,” Zelda answered as Christofis sat across from them.

“Last time I saw you, you were two or three. Randall was of the opinion at the time that once was enough but...”

“Later, Christofis,” Randall interrupted.

“Of course,” Christofis said fluidly. “We should get down to business. But first I should introduce a couple more people that will be part of this... assignment.”

Zelda looked up at the couple that walked in with Christofis. The man was attractive and tall but a bit gangly. He struck Zelda as the studious sort since he was wearing a suit instead of gear like his companion. The woman next to him was shorter than Zelda was but she was muscular and had an acutely stern expression on her face.

“This is Ashei and Shad Dormin. They’re married but I have no idea why. Anyway, Shad has a lot of expertise in these matters and Ashei is extremely skilled in militant combat and survival in emergencies. I’m sure they’d both be useful on this mission.”

Ashei openly glared at Christofis while Shad reached for Zelda’s hand with both of his and shook it warmly. “Pleased to meet you, Miss,” he said.

“Yeah,” Ashei said, “Charmed.”

“Likewise,” Zelda said, smiling at Shad. She smiled at Ashei too but the other woman’s expression didn’t change.

“Along with the guides meeting us tonight, and someone from my personal guard, I don’t see how this can’t work.” Christofis turned to Zelda. “What do you think, my dear?”

Zelda didn’t like the way he was smiling at her. She looked up at her father, eyes narrowed and questioning.

“I said you’d consider going,” Randall said.

“Going where?” Zelda hissed, quietly enough that only the two men at the table could hear her clearly.

“Why, to find the Spiritual Stones,” Christofis answered for him.

Zelda burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it.

“Those are a myth,” she said, waving her hand. “What are you really talking about?”

“He’s telling the truth, Zelda,” Randall said. “Signs have been pointing to the Old Magic awakening. To the Unbalanced Prophecy.”

Zelda enjoyed theology and was educated enough in the scripts to hesitate before she decided to shoot down her father. It’s true that Overworld has been changing; people have told tales in the last few weeks about monsters appearing and seeing the future before it happens. Their eyes turning red. Voices in the dark.

The Unbalanced was a time prophesized back when the monarchies fell. A time when the balance of power between the Goddesses Three would become skewed and the world would turn into a wasteland. That when Hylians lost their roots in the land, the land would turn on them. This, she supposed, might explain the crazed look in someone’s eyes when one spoke of Old Magic and monsters rising from the ground.

She might be convinced that The Unbalanced was upon them for arguments sake, but the scripts that talked about the Spiritual Stones were over two millennia old. Supposedly they were used, along with a mysterious flute instrument, to open the doors of the spirit world and allowed a traveler to walk through time.

That was crazy no matter how she looked at it.

“While you could convince me that the Goddesses brought The Unbalance upon Overworld,” Zelda said, “I’m still hard pressed to believe the Spiritual Stones are not a myth.”

“Do you remember what else was needed to open the doors of time?” Christofis asked her.

“An Ocarina. A treasure of the Hylian royal family. That doesn’t exist either,” Zelda pressed.

“Yes, it does,” her father said softly. “It’s here.”

Zelda looked sharply at her father. Randall was not the sort of man to make up stories.

“Maybe you should show her, Randy,” Christofis said.

Randall hesitated. Then he reached to his left and brought his leather briefcase up to the table. When he opened it, Zelda saw the usual assortment of papers, typical to a business man and politician. Then she watched as he snapped a button on the underside of the lining at the top of his case. She heard a pop. Randall took out a pocketknife and cut the lining to reveal a compartment under the lid, the top of which slid away to reveal a metal instrument.

For some reason, the sight of it gave her chills despite its normal appearance. It was blue, delicate and perfectly preserved. She couldn’t believe it was as old as her father and uncle claimed it was. She looked up at her father, who looked grim. Her uncle looked fiendish with repressed glee. Shad was leaning forward, craning to get a look at the ocarina. Zelda reached for it.

When her left hand touched it, she felt a jolt travel up her arm. She snapped her hand back.

Was that magic?

Zelda bit her lip as she stared at it. There was definitely an unsettling feeling pooling in her stomach, a sensation she usually felt when something significant was about to happen. She looked around the table, at the people staring at the instrument. This was something of legend, something they’d only heard in stories. The Ocarina that could only be played by the royal family of ancient times, the key to the door of time and space.

She looked over at the fall wall, at Link. He was staring at the briefcase with apprehension but he must have known she was looking at him because he turned towards her. Zelda inhaled sharply when she saw the myriad of emotions on his face, in his electric blue eyes. They seemed to mirror her own thoughts and she felt a reaction so strong it hit her in the solar plexus. It unsettled her so she looked away from him.

“Zelda,” her father said, “I want you to go with because someone in our family needs to play this. Christofis thought you were the ideal choice because you’re knowledgeable about history and theology. Plus you know enough about self-defense. I... agree with him.”

Zelda laughed softly, her mouth closed. Her knowledge in “self-defense” was limited to martial arts, and archaic weaponry, like fencing and archery. Typical for a rich, Ivy League woman.

Zelda looked up at her father. He looked unhappy, anxious and brutally resigned about the decision he made. She knew the final decision was up to her but... did she believe it? Did she believe the world was coming apart at the seams and that this ocarina was a key to the world of the time and space, the sacred realm where the gods walked? Did she think finding that door, and the stones that would open it, would save a world already destroyed?

What about the times she knew what was going to happen before it did, like when the sniper was poised to kill her father when they arrived last night? Could she explain that with logic? Or maybe Overworld really was governed by the elements in a way science couldn’t explain. And if so, she should be willing to find a way to use them to help save a world and its people.

“I need to think it over,” Zelda said.

“Excellent! Why don’t you go do just that, darling, since no one is leaving until its dark anyway. You have time to pack, when I get you clothes to pack of course, and time to sleep if you want.,” Christofis said, “I’m sure you’ll make the right decision,” he added, a sly smile on his lips.

“I’m sure I will,” Zelda answered coldly, looking directly into his eyes.

Christofis, she decided, couldn’t be trusted. His smiles were faked, dressed up like he was, in his expensive suit and perfectly coiffed, yet greasy, hair. She certainly didn’t think a criminal was interested in saving the world and she was sure her father wasn’t gullible enough to believe he was. Which probably meant this was the only way her father believed they could get to the mystical Door of Time, if it existed. It was desperate.

Everything seemed to be desperate in her life.


~*~*~*~*~*~


III: the suddenness of the afterthought

It was cold even though it was still summer but the perpetuating clouds had been blocking the warmth of the sun for months. The darkening sky was covered with smog and smoke, which made the air feel wet and moldy, and it stuck to the exposed skin on the back of Zelda’s neck. She had braided her hair and wrapped it around her head after she packed a knapsack, filling it with only the essentials; another pair of jeans, two extra shirts, clean socks, clean underwear, extra shoes. Toiletries. Ammo. Camping gear. Zelda was ritualistic and meticulous as she packed, every move slow and deliberate. It wasn’t because she was worried about forgetting anything but that she didn’t know what she was getting into and packing that way gave her a feeling of control that she needed to stay sane.

Her father’s Ocarina was locked away in a small safebox that made a heavy deadweight on the bottom of her knapsack, the key on a thick piece of leather tied around her throat. Zelda shifted the bag on her back as she entered the front lobby of her uncle’s building, hesitant even though Randall told her the whole area was secure in a twenty mile radius around the building.

She didn’t really feel reassured until she saw Link in the lobby, checking his pistols for jams.

When she heard that Link Morikono was going on the mission, Zelda finally decided to go. Something settled her in her subconscious, taming her anxiousness, when she thought about him being there with them. With her. Like she knew she would be safe, though there was no logical explanation for it, so she brushed it off after a little while. One man, someone she hardly knew, wasn’t going to keep her safe from the unexpected.

That didn’t change her mind about going.

Earlier, Zelda met the two self-proclaimed wilderness experts that Christofis hired to guide them through whatever Shad thought was the place to go. Zelda immediately to a liking to Impa, the quiet, stern older woman who, despite her age hardened face, had soft brown eyes that reminded Zelda of her mother. Impa was currently talking to Ashei and both women were watching Shad poor over a digital, holographic map of his own creation.

The other guide, Sheik, was Impa’s nephew. He had the same dark eyes and carried himself in the same manner as his aunt, but he had a mischievous grin and openly flirted with Zelda when they first met, despite the looming presence of her father. Zelda didn’t dislike him, per se, but she wasn’t warming up to him either.

Sheik was standing next to Link, having a one-sided conversation with him while Link checked his other firearm. He stopped when he saw Zelda and grinned like a cat.

“You look lovely,” he said to her.

Zelda gave him an incredulous look. She was wearing insulated long underwear, jeans, two hooded sweaters and a denim jacket. She didn’t feel lovely, whether or not she looked nice, so compliments didn’t settle well with her.

“If you say so.”

“Always,” he answered, “You couldn’t not look lovely if you wanted to.”

Zelda leaned back, shifting her weight behind her and folding her arms in front of her chest. Sheik was attractive but she was uncomfortable with aggressive flirters.

Link cleared his throat. Zelda turned her attention to him but Sheik didn’t seem to notice until Link said they should be getting the trucks ready in order to reach the hanger in a timely manner. At this, Sheik rolled his eyes.

“I have to get my bike into the back of the second truck anyway,” he said and winked a goodbye to Zelda before he turned and walked towards Impa.

Zelda smiled gratefully at Link, though he didn’t seem to notice or care. He was adjusting his holsters on his shoulders and donning his coat. Zelda noticed he was wearing fatigues and a green beret instead of the basic black Christofis’ bodyguards were wearing that morning.

“Do you wear your old uniform because it’s warmer?” Zelda asked him.

Link looked up from putting on his sliding gloves. He shrugged.

Zelda sighed. She learned from the men watching her father’s apartment that Link did, in fact, speak perfect English but only spoke in clean, dry sentences and only when he had to or felt like it. The only person they knew of that Link carried a full conversation with was Christofis Harkinian. Or the trained dogs.

Link took of his beret and ran a hand through his sandy hair before carefully replacing it. Zelda watched this and the way he fiddled with his coat and pack afterwards. Then it struck her.

“You wear them because they’re comfortable, don’t you?” Not only did his old uniform fit well but wearing it must give him a feeling of familiarity and control that Zelda got when she packed her knapsack.

He looked up, a look of clear surprise on his face. Then he smiled at her.

She hit it on the nose that time. Zelda grinned back, a childish happiness at being able to read him warming her smile.

When he turned to walk outside to the trucks with the others, she followed him.


~*~*~*~*~*~


It was so sudden that he needed a moment to process it.

But that was all he needed. Everyone else was still standing there dumbfounded after Link spurred into action. He yanked the recurve crossbow from Ashei’s back and jumped into the back of the truck. Sheik was standing there with a look of horror on his face as Link grabbed his keys and jumped onto the motorbike Sheik had just finished parking in the back of the truck.

“Whoa, wait a minute...” Sheik started.

“Morikono, what the hell...” Ashei started when she ran up to the truck. She jumped out of the way of the ramp as Link tore down it. She didn’t seem to think before she made an impressive jump onto the back of the bike, holding on to Link for dear life as they peeled down the street.

Link didn’t look back to see if anyone else was going to follow them. He just assumed they would once they got their heads back together.

“What are you doing?!” Ashei yelled from behind him.

“Hold this,” Link shouted, handing her back her crossbow that he was holding in his left hand. Ashei held it to his stomach and chest as Link sped the bike up now that his hands were free and he had the dexterity to do so.

It was all completely... insane. It was like it was waiting for Zelda specifically before it swept down from the rooftop, out of the shadows themselves, and carried her off. Kargaroks didn’t exist anymore (at least they hadn’t for centuries) and the bizarre partial intelligence it exhibited when it purposefully took the fighting young woman instead of anyone else that was standing outside the building just made everything seem that much more crazy.

And the way Zelda screamed as the bird hauled her into the air tore right through him. Every instinct in his body told him move, damn you, move! He would have sworn he heard her specifically call his name but he might have imagined that. It didn’t matter.

Link tore down the street, Ashei stubbornly clinging to him with everything in her. He could just see them, nearing the outskirts of the city, the field-sized bird beating its great wings against the sky, gaining ground. Link pushed the bike further, going faster than he knew was safe for a bike that size, and with Ashei on there with him.

“You’re going to spin us out!” Ashei shouted.

“Just don’t move!” he shouted back, “Not unless I tell you to!”


~*~*~*~*~*~


She thought she had almost gotten away when the bird grabbed her left shoulder. She shucked her pack, ducked and was trying to roll out of its grasp but it was as though the kargarok could process and anticipate her movements. It had her by her left shoulder before she could move away. Zelda screamed, kicked and fought it but they were over thirty feet in the air in seconds. The kargarok responded to her fighting by digging its talons into her shoulders, tearing skin, drawing blood. Tears stung her eyes and her screams became silent, the pain was so unbearable.

Link...

She was losing too much blood too fast. Zelda felt dizzy. She forced herself to keep her eyes open but she couldn’t focus them but she desperately tried to search the ground beneath her for anything that might mean rescue or safety. She was having trouble getting air into her lungs. She glanced up at the kargarok’s right wing, beating against the wind. She suddenly felt like she’d been there before.

The buildings seemed to be drifting away, like smoke. Zelda tried to reach a hand towards one but she couldn’t seem to grasp it, like it was made of air. Then the buildings were gone. Then she couldn’t see anymore.


~*~*~*~*~*~


“It’s heading for the bridge!” Ashei shouted.

Perfect, Link thought. “The Bridge” was a term used for the long freeway overpass that spanned a large, wide river in western Capital City. If the kargarok was headed there...

Ashei and Link had finally been gaining ground of the gigantic bird, enough that Link could make out Zelda like a shadow in the sky, clutched in the bird’s talons. She was far away but somehow Link knew she wasn’t moving anymore.

Frustrated anger overtook him. They hadn’t even started the stupid treasure hunt to save the world and already he was losing someone. Someone fucking important to his employers. Not that it mattered who she was important to but it was as though seeing this woman die, out of everyone else...

“Drive the bike, Dormin!” Link yelled.

“How the h-”

“Just reach forward and drive!”

Link ripped the crossbow from Ashei’s grasp and the small woman strained forward to grab the handlebars. She had to crane her neck and Link was almost off the seat but he found a center of balance before they both spun off the road. Ashei was cursing loudly, every skill she could possibly use trying to keep the teetering vehicle from killing them both.

The kargarok was veering to the north, to the left of the road. They were almost close enough but aiming from that distance was practically impossible. Link concentrated. He had to make this shot. He had to. She wasn’t allowed to die.

One. Desperate. Shot.

“Din’s Fire!” Ashei cursed, a mixture of amazement and disbelief in her voice as the kargarok dropped its prey and fell into the river, back first.

Link ditched the crossbow and took the bike back from Ashei. Less than a minute later, they were at the spot about where Zelda and that damn bird fell into the river after he shot them. He swerved the bike, jumped off and ditched his pack before diving headfirst off the right side of the bridge.

He could barely see her. Zelda was further up the river, but the current was dragging her down rapidly in the direction to his right. He’d be able to catch her if he was quick. Link struggled with the water, reaching her in a couple minutes by meeting her downstream. He pulled them both up, feeling for the currents that beat against the meandering banks. His lungs burning for air but all his frustration spurred him forward.

When he got them out of the water, Link’s movements were automatic. He checked her airway but found nothing blocking it. She wasn’t breathing, her chest wasn’t rising. He felt for her carotid pulse and almost laughed when he felt the rapid, erratic and weak evidence of a beating heart. Zelda Harkinian was a fighter.

He tilted her chin up and breathed into her mouth, pushing gently against her chest in case her ribs were broken. She was so cold. But you have to make it.

“Morikono!”

He recognized Impa’s voice but he didn’t look up. He checked her pulse again and it was still there but he couldn’t tell if it was any stronger or weaker.

“Here, use this,” Impa said, handing him a canteen.

Impa moved in front of Zelda’s prone body and poured the contents of the canteen over the wounds on her shoulders. Link watched in amazement as the soupy, red liquid absorbed into her body and healed her wounds rapidly, her skin stitching itself back together. Water and dirt pushed to the surface and ran down her newly healed skin.

Link took a gulp of liquid from the canteen and leaned over Zelda again, pushing it from his mouth to hers as he breathed into her lungs again. The effect was immediate. Zelda coughed as he pulled away and Impa and Link gently pushed her onto her side as she coughed and vomited all the water she swallowed.

“You should drink that too,” Impa said, as she gently as fed Zelda more of the liquid.

Link guzzled a good portion of the canteen, standing up as he did so. He saw that the trucks were parked up on the bridge and Shad was holding his wife. Sheik was hiking down the hill to the river, running the last few steps until he was next to Impa.

“Her color looks good,” Sheik observed. He turned to Link. “Way to play the hero, Morikono.”

Link just glared at him. He splashed some of the red liquid on his aching muscles from the water. Whatever it was, it was making him feel a hundred times better than a full night’s uninterrupted sleep could have.

“You like it? It’s an old family recipe Impa and I found. It’s called “Red Potion.” Our ancestors probably weren’t too creative but we’re not complaining.”

“Link...”

He kneeled back down, running a hand against the back of her shoulders, brushing a strand of loose hair from her face, tucking it back into one of the braids that had became unpinned somewhere back there. Zelda’s voice was weak and hoarse. He didn’t want her to talk anymore so he let her know he was nearby.

“Poor girl,” Impa said. “All the Red Potion in the world isn’t going to keep you from a nasty headache.”


~*~*~*~*~*~


IV: the day comes with the rain

Link had wanted to take Zelda back underground, but the woman was stubborn enough to insist, however weakly, that she would be capable enough to function after she had rested, now that her wounds were healed.

“In a world where we don’t know if tomorrow will come, every possible day counts when we’re trying to save it,” Zelda whispered as Link helped her into the passenger seat of one of the vans.

Link just looked at her. She smiled at him, closed her eyes and turned away, settling in the seat to rest. Link looked past Zelda at Impa, who was in the driver’s seat and was grinning at them.

“Pretty smart, even when she’s delirious,” Impa said.

Soon the group was repacked into the vans and moving towards the hanger bay, where they were going to load everything into a Harkinian private jet.

Impa gently lifted Zelda and carried her to the jet. She hardly stirred until Impa was strapping the young woman across three adjacent seats, when Zelda subconsciously reached out and rested her hand upon Impa’s before she could move away. Impa smiled softly, removed her hand and brushed some of Zelda’s still wet hair from her face.

“What happened?”

The question was so soft that Impa was lucky she heard it. Concerned brown eyes met glazed violet ones as Impa stopped her ministrations.

“You don’t remember what happened to you?” Impa asked, calmly masking her alarm.

“Are we - are we in the plane already?” Zelda asked, trying and failing to sit up a little.

“Hey, now,” Impa said, lightly pushing Zelda back on the seats. “You just had a tough few hours, little one. You need to rest a bit.”

Zelda’s response was to fall back asleep.

Impa quietly checked Zelda’s pulse, temperature and breathing but found her vitals to be normal. Giving the sleeping woman one last look, Impa rose to find the others.

“How’s she doing?” Sheik asked her, coming out of the cockpit into the interior of the jet.

“She’s resting. Her vitals are strong and with time the potion should finish its work and she’ll feel better than she would have after months of rest without it,” Impa said, moving to stand next to him.

Sheik’s features, normally carefree, were clouded and grim. “If this is going to work,” he said, “we’ll have to be more cautious than we thought.”

“I took the necessary precautions when the others went out to load the supplies down below. It should be exceptionally difficult for him to locate her now. And since Mr. Morikono killed the kargarok that found her, he won’t know to check Capital City.”

She moved to stand beside him and both of them watched Zelda for a moment, who seemed to be it a fitful sleep.

“Let’s hope so. For both our sakes,” Sheik finally said, with a pointed look at Impa, and turned to go back into the cockpit. “I ran the basic diagnostics and the jet seems to be it tiptop shape for takeoff and flying. Do me a favor and find out when they’ll be ready out there. We have a near full moon tonight and I want to take advantage of all that light if we can,” he added.

“Certainly,” Impa said, and she moved to leave the plane.

Shad, Ashei and Link were loading some of the larger equipment and the bike into the bottom of the plane. Since Shad was closest to the vans, he saw her when she was halfway down the stairs leading to the plane interior.

“How is she doing?” Shad asked. Link had just jumped down from the bottom of the plane. When he saw Impa, he moved to join them, following Ashei.

Impa looked grim. “Her wounds are as good as healed thanks to the potions. But I’m worried about head damage. She didn’t seem to remember what happened to her but she did know she was in the plane.” She paused, contemplating. “Though she might have been confused about what time it was. She wondered why we were in the jet so soon.”

Shad looked perplexed. “Maybe we should take her back anyway.”

“I think if we watch her vitals, say, every ten or fifteen minutes until we land, and just let her rest, the potion should work the rest of its magic,” Impa blew her silver bangs out of her eyes. “Sheik said it would be about a ten hour flight nonstop, based off the map Shad gave us, and if he took a couple... shortcuts. Through uncharted airspace.” She smiled at Shad. “And Zelda should pull together a few hours before we land if we can get off the ground in the next hour.

“You sure are taking us across the world for this one, Dr. Dormin,” Impa said.

Shad managed a half-smile. “My research was extensive so I’m sure it’s the right place. When I finished the research a few years back, Ashei and I went down there to explore so we’re familiar with the public parts of the area, where the tourists used to go-”

“Now that people have moved out of there because of the war, we’ll be free to explore without being stopped this time,” Ashei said.

Link raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, security was polite after they found my husband in the tombs under one of the smaller temples,” Ashei said to him.

“Hey!”

The group looked up towards the voice to see Sheik leaning his shaggy blond head out the door to the plane interior.

“Are we loaded up? I want to get going while the moon is still high,” he shouted.

“We’ll be ready in fifteen!” Ashei shouted back.

Sheik disappeared back into the plane.

“It’s been awhile since he’s flown so he’s a little excited,” Impa confided in the other three. “Though the novelty will wear off about halfway into the flight and I’ll probably be doing most of the busy work until we’re ready to land.”

“Understandable,” Ashei said. “We better be true to our word, though, and finish up before he decides to leave without us.”


~*~*~*~*~*~


They planned on taking shifts through the flight to watch Zelda, but despite this, Link was still checking her vitals himself every fifteen minutes until she woke up seven hours into the flight.

Zelda woke up, groggy and weary, and carefully sat up against the wall of the plane. She felt nauseous but was glad her headache seemed to move away from the front of her head and instead felt like an ache in her neck and shoulders. She stretched them slowly, relishing in the way her body felt moving after being stuck in a cramped position for so long.

A can of ginger-ale was proffered to her and Zelda looked up as she took it. Link smiled softly at her and Zelda felt a lump in her throat as she looked up at him. She sipped the soda.

“Thank-you,” she said, smiling back.

After watching her swallow a bit more of the soda, Link turned away and disappeared into the cockpit. He returned a moment later with Impa, who smiled at her warmly.

“I’m glad to see you alert, Miss Harkinian,” Impa said. She sat on the seat in front of her and placed the back of her palm against Zelda’s forehead. “Your temperature feels normal, just a little warm, but that’s probably from sleeping so long. Because of the red potion, you’ll probably have more energy than all of us combined by the time we land in a few hours.

“Do you remember what happened?” Impa asked her.

Zelda thought carefully. She remembered the kargarok coming down from the sky and how she struggled until her muscles gave out and her vision began to fade. She remembered thinking about Link Morikono before she couldn’t think anymore, knowing somehow that he was trying to reach her, help her. Zelda related to Impa that she remembered being taken by the bird and waking up by the river. She didn’t mention Link.

Impa looked relieved. “It looks like your head is in much better shape then before, as expected. But just in case, let me know if anything changes.” Impa said this last part to Link as she stood back up and walked back into the cockpit.

Link took Impa’s place in the seat next to Zelda. She watched him as he settled back with his arms behind his head, the familiar posture he took when she first met him at the bar underground. He closed his eyes. As Zelda watched him, she became sensory conscientious; she heard the whir of the plane in flight, could taste the strong ginger tang of her soda, noticed the way Link’s sandy bangs fell over his closed eyes.

Zelda contemplated Link as he relaxed next to her. He wasn’t burly or threatening in appearance by any standards, but his continence was formidable, and she knew she wasn’t the only one that felt that way. There was a nameless air about Link Morikono that made Zelda feel safer. And she couldn’t explain it, but she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Link was trying to save her in those last moments of consciousness in the air. And in the deep recesses of unconsciousness, as Zelda sensed that her body was drowning in the river, sudden warmth took over her as Link wrapped his arms around her and pulled them both from the water.

“Thank-you for saving my life,” she said softly.

Link smiled and turned his head in her direction before opening his eyes to look at her.

She’d never get over the brilliant cerulean of his large eyes.

“Somehow I knew you would,” Zelda shared with him. “When I was up in the air, and the world started to slip away because I lost so much blood, I knew you were trying to rescue me. So thank-you.”

His expression changed and he was looking at her queerly. Zelda suddenly felt silly and self-conscious so she looked away, flushed. She was probably a sight too, covered in these not-very-clean clothes and messy hair.

“I wish I had a mirror,” she muttered, more to herself than anything, and she tried to brush stray strands of hair away from her face with her hands.

Link laughed at that, a short, amused laugh that caused Zelda to glare at him, and blush even more. She didn’t like being teased.

“Are you laughing at me?” she asked, more to set him off since she knew he was.

Link just continued to look amused for a minute before answering. “Excuse me, princess,” he said before standing up and reaching into the overhead compartment next to their seats.

He produced for her the pack she abandoned when she was swept away by the kargarok. Zelda took it from him with a huff and proceeded to dig through it for spare clothes and a brush. When she produced the desired items, she stood up slowly, allowing herself a moment before trying to move about. She looked around.

“Where’s the lavatory?” she asked Link.

He just pointed to the door towards the back of the jet.

“Thank-you, my succinct friend,” Zelda said snidely before moving towards the door.


~*~*~*~*~*~


“You’re awake,” Ashei said when Zelda left the restroom a moment later, in clean clothes and her hair rebraided, to find the other woman waiting. “Shad will be happy to know. He wanted to talk with you during the flight down before... well, before all this happened.”

“We still have a couple hours, I think. I could talk to him now,” Zelda said.

“Only if you feel up to it. Have you eaten at all? There’s some fruit and maybe some smoked fish. Ask Shad when you talk to him,” Ashei said before closing the door.

Zelda wrinkled her nose a bit at the thought of eating. She still felt out-of-sorts and figured she could eat right after they landed. Maybe she’d feel better once they weren’t moving anymore.

She moved back towards her seat and found Link was asleep where she used to be sleeping, his lanky form stretched over the seats so his boots were hanging in the aisle. She was still a little annoyed with him, for silly reasons she supposed, but that didn’t stop her from thinking he looked sweet asleep, like a little boy.

She repacked her bag and lifted it back into the overhead compartment. The exercise felt incredibly good, she marveled, as she went looking for Shad. In fact, the soreness was completely gone. The only thing that still felt a little off was the nausea.

Zelda found Shad at the back of the jet, his computer propped in his lap and his legs crossed over the seats in front of him. He had his sleeves rolled up and his jacket laid over the seats next to his boots. He looked up when he saw her approach and grinned at her.

“You’re awake,” he said. “Splendid. I was worried about it, even though Impa told us not to be.”

“As a matter of fact, I’m feeling much better,” Zelda said. “Incredibly so. I have a lot more vigor in me than I’d have expected, considering the amount of blood I lost.”

“Impa said something about the potion increasing your energy substantially. Maybe after all this is over, she’ll lend me the recipe or a sample so that I can study it. But that’s neither here nor there,” Shad said.

“Ashei said you wanted to speak to me,” Zelda said, settling in the seat next to him.

Shad nodded but went back to his computer. “It’s nothing really,” he said. “I was curious about what you knew of the Ordon Forest Havens.”

“I’ve only been there once,” Zelda said. “When I was sixteen, so almost eight years ago. There was a huge debate over deforesting some of the havens for resources and my father went there along with a research team to make a public statement.”

The forest havens were the last forests of their size that were preserved. It had been that way for generations; no one seemed to have any desire to cut into them though they couldn’t directly answer as to why. Then one day someone started talking about it and world politicians had to get involved with the debate.

Zelda remembered the particular forest keenly. It was a tourist area but if she wandered a few steps beyond the set dirt paths, she felt like she was amongst an ancient place. She had felt earthy, and was surrounded by the smell of decaying leaves, wildflowers and forest mushrooms. Twilight was settling in the air, reflecting the age-old heart of the forest and Zelda no longer wondered why that place was considered the haunt of mythical creatures, like fairies, minish and deku. She walked up to one of the grand goldenwood trees, a majestic, ancient giant and felt her perspective on life become fresh as she stared at it up into the sky. Then she leaned forward, against the trunk and the tree was so vast, it would have taken a dozen of her, maybe two, to span it. She pressed her ear to the bark and closed her eyes. It was like she could her music; an ancient, wild, magic deep beneath her, around her, far above her.

She had shared part of this experience with her father and he smiled at her. He didn’t understand why anyone would want to cut into that forest. And he related to her in confidence that something didn’t feel right about the politicians that talked vehemently about deforestation. Something off.

“Ashe and I have only been there once ourselves,” Shad said, interrupting her reverie. “We were at one of the smaller ancient temples that was renovated for tourists. I had wanted to go deeper into the forest to find one of the unrenovated ones. You see, there are dozens of temples throughout that forest, in a very large perimeter. They map out the forest like a key to-“

“A large forest temple hidden within it? I’ve heard the legend,” Zelda said. “It’s a wonderful story. You think there’s truth to it?”

“I’m sure of it,” Shad said.

“Many have tried finding the forest temple and no one has,” Zelda said. “For many centuries past, I fear.”

Shad just waved his hand dismissively. “There’s always another way. And I’m sure Ashei and I would have been able to find it if it wasn’t for certain complications.”

“Complications?” Zelda asked.

Shad actually looked sheepish. “I left the tour group and went snooping around the basement of the temple we were at. I was looking for a clue that would point towards the general location of the next temple-”

“Security found him and then oh-so-politely asked us to leave, much to my own disappointment,” Ashei interrupted.

Shad looked up and smiled brilliantly at the small, dark-haired woman. Ashei just continued to mock glare at him.

“Sheik says we’ll be landing in twenty minutes. I came to tell you,” Ashei said.

“I better wake Link,” Zelda said, rising.

“No need,” Ashei said. “He was awake before I could wake him myself. That man has an uncanny ability to be conscious when necessary.”

“Oh,” Zelda said, as she started moving back up the plane. It was childish, but she felt disappointed that she wouldn’t get to wake him up.

“I’ll talk to you more once we’ve landed, Miss Zelda,” Shad called.

“Okay then,” Zelda answered.

Sure enough, Link was alert and strapped into a seat when Zelda returned to the front of the plane. She settled in the seat next to him.

“Did you sleep well?” Zelda asked.

Link yawned and nodded with a shrug. He didn’t look over at her.

Zelda sighed. He was an interesting man, Link Morikono.


~*~*~*~*~*~


End of Chapter One