Legend of Zelda: Book of Mobius

—Remembering something someone did or “said.”— Thinking

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Link had changed to his usual sleeveless canvas jacket and dark brown trousers. There were no visible signs of his battle the day earlier. He felt like one walking bruise. The agonizing muscles of his back protested with each rippling shift as he walked. His hair had lightened to a non-descript brown, bangs still hanging in his eyes.



He’d been mildly surprised that his Gramps wasn’t in the flat, but he knew where to find the wily old man. Life had moved on in the Lower Levels in the few days he’d been away. The city was still working in the middle of a dull roar; evidently the mayor was sore over being robbed in spite of the few days.



Which meant that known dens were raided and the Thief Lord was rode harder by the Provost. Increased patrols by the guards in the Lower Levels and everyone laid low in general. The emerald and ruby couldn’t be sold in the black market because of the general doggish nature of the guards.



Not in Kakariko, in any case.



In Trohsten or Dolstrol on the other hand…they were still fair game. That is, if Link wanted to travel all over the continent to find the best price for hot jewels.



Link yawned, jaw cracking as his hands turned to fists in his pockets from the flare of pain in his back. His boots clunked against the grating, joining the chorus already in progress. The walk was packed with customers for the Day Market. Steam wafted and swirled around their forms, masking them in an ever-present mist.



He reached Nimya’s Fountain (no one knew who Nimya had been or how she warranted a whole fountain…) situated in the middle of Day Market, a poorer version of Mido Market, the fountain was pieced together by multiple bowls that spilled from one to another. The water was as clean as one could hope for the ones of the lowest standings in the city. The four segregated pools had a designated usage by unspoken agreement.



His Gramps was settled on the laundering one, hands clasped over his crooked cane as he perched on the bowl’s lip. Mistress Cooper was laughing heartily at whatever his Gramps had just said, her shimmering white hair pinned primly on top of her head. Her skirt was a dark brown, pale blue blouse tucked into the waist. Long sleeves were rolled up to show off muscular biceps, her face holding a sweet kind of attraction that seemed to grow with age.



She caught sight of the approaching teen and gave a small smile, dark eyes glittering in amusement.



“Oi-ya. Looky who’s back! Is it time fer ya feeden’ Link?” Mistress Cooper teased, her hands never ceasing their scrubbing of the graying cloth. “Who’s the gilly yer sweet on?”



Link grinned and felt a flush climb his cheeks. “I don' lay and gab, Mistress.”



That earned a cackle from both of the elders and the blue-eyed teen settled beside his Gramps on the lip.



“I wuz wonderen’ where this old rascal had gotten to, really.” The old man leered and waggled his bushy brows suggestively. “Followin’ his old man’s footsteps.”



The teen ignored the urge to groan and roll his eyes; instead he gave Mistress Cooper a look of long suffering. She chuckled in understanding, though her gray eyes held the cold glitter of knowledge of what was left unsaid.



She was from the Lower Levels, the Mistress.



“Master Jin thinks he can woe a lonely widow, he does.” Mistress Cooper informed Link, wringing out the garment before snapping it straight. It wasn’t the first or last time, the thief was sure. His Gramps had a reputation to uphold, or so he said.



“How’s the old man doin’ so far, Mistress?” The thief didn’t fight off the smirk, overlooking the grandfather who growled warningly.



“He’s persistent, that one. I don’ know if I’m sweet on him, as of yet.” She sounded regretful, a wry twist of her lips reveling wrinkles that seemed to accent instead draw away from her pleasant features.



“This one’s a tough one Gramps…looks like yer gonna need some help melten’ her resolve.” He stage whispered to the scowling old man. Gramps always dished it better than receiving. He tilted his torso around the hunched, glowering form and gave the older woman a grin that could charm rust off iron. “Have pity on the lonely bindle, Mistress.”



“What a thoughtful lovey ya are!” The old woman grinned and mocked a bashful flutter with her hand. “Aye! Ye be Master Jin’s through and through!”



“Nah. This is purely selfish, Mistress. Mayhap it’ll improve his character to ‘ave tha company of a lady such as yerself.” The thief admitted and beamed wildly at the woman’s cackle of amusement.



“I do admit tha’ he does have a certain charm when he pouts.” She teased as she carefully packed the freshly wringed linens and clothes. He was about to offer to help with the laundry when Gramps slipped off the fountain lip.



“Let’s go, Hero. I need ta explain tha’ of all tha things I need help wit, dancein’ wit a woman isn’ one of um.” The old man groused, cane clanging against the metal plating. He would carry the cane behind his back once he reached the grating to avoid it getting caught in unexpected holes.



The blue-eyed teen gave a mock salute to the hysterical Mistress Cooper before catching up with the sulking man. He easily kept pace, calling out greetings to the inhabitants and mudlarks that ran the pipe paths of Rauru Ward.



The thundering footsteps and bursts of curses caught the tired teen’s attention. He judged the disturbance to be headed directly for him. The thief tried to make way, twisting off to the side. Sadly, there was no dodging the sudden body slam. Link grunted and crashed into a thick drainpipe, his body throwing a fit in protest.



“HELL!” Link snapped, preparing to knock the snot out of the clumsily fool. He looked down and wasn’t mollified to see a familiar head of crimson, wild spikes. “Cripes, Reno! Stop doing that already! I’m not yer damn toy!”



“He-hee!” A gape toothed grin set in the unturned, cherub face. The eyes were a dazzling violet, speckled with copper and silver set under winged brows. The ears had a hint of a point, his nose a button above the thin lips. The nine year old was a bundle of energy and deceptive with his innocence. The redhead conned as easily as he breathed and had the makings of a Master Pickpocket, if he could stay out of the cages and Shieka. “Link! It wuz so boren’! Don’ leave again!”



The teen sighed and prayed for patience, keeping careful watch on the twitching hands that would lift him just for game. “Reno. Let go and pray you better have none of my things in your mitts.”



“I’d never filch anything from you, Link. Where were ya?” The boy fibbed, a cheeky smile twisting the lips.



“I wuz courten’ a gilly, rascal.” Link informed him, careful untangling the young limbs from his body. “Now, scat. I’m hungry.”



“You’re lyen’!” Reno stated bluntly, eyes hard. A dark brown arched in question and the blonde boy huffed and explained, “No jock is willen’ ta dance wi’ a gilly!”



Widower Marks, who inhabited the flat below Link’s, paused and guffawed. “Well said, shorty! Gillies only serve ta breed trouble!”



The feisty curly topped brunette he was courting stepped to his back. She scowled and tugged at his ear. She was a well-proportioned wench and took crap from no one, let alone a smart mouthed widower.



“What about gillies, Marks?” Trisana purred, brown eyes glittering in contained amusement.



“I was talken’ on how I love a sassy gilly!” He replied easily, twisting to scoop the woman in his arms. “Mistress Tris, are you that gilly?”



“Jock’s cracked.” Reno grumbled as his eyes narrowed at the nuzzling couple as they slipped back into their flat. He gave Link a look from the corner of his eyes. “Don’ ya go an’ say that I’ll understand one day.”



“I wouldn’ be lyin’ if I did.” The blue-eyed teen smirked, ruffling the scarlet locks playfully and earning a disgusted growl. “I gotta go in.”



“Don’ leave me behind next time! I’ll stay outta yer way while ya dance wi’ yer gilly!” Reno demanded, tugging at the full sleeves of the undershirt insistently.



The thief scratched the back of his head lightly in frustration. Reno knew what he did, understood the undertones and read between the lines. There were no true secrets in the Lower Levels. There was unspoken speculation and turning the other cheek, but no secret. Reno had a nasty case of hero worship. Link may have been stealing for near nine years, but he’d never been caught and thrown in the cages. What the redhead didn’t understand that it was a good amount of luck that gave aid to Link’s skill. One can’t teach good fortune.



He also felt guilty about crushing the younger boy. “Look,” he tempered. “I’ll bring you along before too long, promise. Just not with the gilly I’m dancin’ with right now.”



The con artist nodded, appeased. He gave a quick wave and integrated back into the crowd heading towards Day Market.



If I ever do another job again after this one…poor lad. He’s gonna be disappointed. Link thought miserably, thundering up the steps to the flat.



Gramps had already settled onto the rug with his cup of tea, the pot letting a thin line of steam from the spout, kept warm on top of the space heater.



Link carefully folded his legs into the tailor seat and didn’t bother to conceal the flinches.



“Rough trip?” Gramps asked softly, eyes worried. The long-eared teen sighed and dragged his hand through his oily hair. He started from the beginning, careful not to leave a detail undisclosed of the heist. He didn’t speak of the self-proclaimed Professor Houlihan and the tedious recon bit, seeing them unnecessary. The old man closed his eyes and said nothing, though the lines of age deepened as his worry obviously grew. The silence stretched as Link finished and awaited the final judgment. “Ya think he wuz tipped off, ya say?”



“Why else would he move it and hire guards?”



“Ya also said that you left proof tha’ you’d been in the first office. Who’s to say that you weren’ tha tip-off?”



Link’s mouth dropped open and then snapped shut. The thin face flushed deeply as he realized how right his Gramps probably was.



Hell and Damnation. That can’t be all, though! Link fisted his dark hair and yanked it roughly, refusing to believe.



“Why would he think that I was after his ruby, though? That’s a bit far-fetched, Gramps. I took every rupee in the building, not just his office.” He pointed out reasonably, resting his hands on his knees with a set expression. “Besides, where was it the first night?”



“How the hell should I know? Damnation, Hero! Maybe he wanted ta polish his pole while he stared at it! I don’ read minds!” Gramps told him incredulous voice. “Well, if ya really think someone’s tipped him off…then ya should leave tonight to fetch the sapphire. Ya don’ need a map for Stalfos Treasury and Trust. It’s the biggest building in Narein, halfway up Darunia Mountain. The jewel is on the fountain in the lobby.”



Better to go now. If I’m right…how many more of those nasty suits of armor will they fill that place up with? It’ll be a nightmare. The teen thought in dawning horror. I never wanna fight another thing like that again.



“I’ll go look for a ride.” Link finally said, standing up slowly.

-------



Link had hitched a ride from one of the rigs that would haul timber, furniture or explosives down. The fastest way up the mountain was through Kakariko, so it was only a matter of prying for the long-eared boy to find an easy ride. Not that the driver knew he had a passenger.



The blue-eyed teen wore a long sleeved canvas green jacket and grey canvas breeches tucked into buff-colored boots. With his hair free from its tail to settle about his shoulders like a wild black mane, he didn’t look any different from a runaway looking for a job.



The thief stared at the open gates to Narein. There was an armed soldier, probably part of their private militia, standing off to the side. The town was carved into the mountain, surrounded by miles of thick forest.



Sadly, the first few acres around the town were cleared down to stumps. Narein was known for the unique wood working and large store of bomb powder that it exported for its income.



“New here?” The soldier asked in a cheerful tone. The younger man turned his gaze to the armored man.



Am I new here? What the hell kinda question is that? I’m at the front gate and he’s probably never seen me before! “Yeah.” Link answered instead, smiling as he tucked his scarred hands in his pockets. “Looken’ for work, actually. You know a good place to start?”



The guard hmph’ed, eyes sliding back into town as if the wooden houses and quiet streets would give him inspiration. The dark eyes lit up and he smiled back at the teen. “How good are ya with yer hands, lad?”



“Decent. I can learn whatever I don’ know.” Link admitted, taking a few steps closer. An eager man looking for work isn’t as easily remembered as a rude teen scowling and cursing a storm. “The carpenters need help?”



“Mutoh isna hirin’ as of yet. Ya’d have to have some background afore he’d consider ya.” The guard looked at him askance and the thief winced inwardly.



“That bites. Everyone knows that the best carpentry comes out of Narien.” The teen groused, doing his best to look a disappointed. He held out a hand thoughtlessly. “Mikau.”



The gauntleted palm passed briefly over the teen’s in greeting. “Viscen. How do ya like this mountain air?”



The man was obviously teasing. He could see the light flush on Link’s face and the obvious work he was putting forth to keep his breathing even. Narein was over a mile above sea level, making life difficult for those unused to the thin air.



“Cleaner then the Yards and Kakariko. Never seen anywhere else quite like it.” The teen admitted. There weren’t any factories dominating the town. They were tucked in the mines and forests doing their jobs. The little town was downright rustic compared to the smut-covered city. There were scorch marks on the sides of some stonewalls where torches were normally placed. Electricity was something distant and more like a tale.



Everything was cleaner. The sky was actually a cornflower blue with white fluffy clouds scuttling lazily across it. Disturbingly perfect in silence with only birdcalls and chicken clucks mingling in the air. A windmill turned slowly overhead, pumping water from the ground and into the well.



It was tranquility.



It put the thief on edge.



While Viscen preened under the compliment of his city, Link tried not to shudder. Doesn’t all this quiet make them a little mad? It has to be the thin air. Not enough oxygen to the brain.



“I’m off duty in a half hour. I ya want, I kin take ya ta Gus Lumber an’ see if they ‘ave any need fer hands.” The soldier offered with a friendly smile that sent warning bells off in Link’s head.



He could not get stuck here. That and he thought that the watchman was hitting on him.



Hell. My voice has barely changed and I already have men trying to bed me. What kinda sick prick…no, I’ve got to be imagining things. Link scrambled for a way to decline gracefully. The longer Viscen hung around, the easier the guard would remember him. He might even put two and two together. Sadly, his usually resourceful mind failed him. It would be too conspicuous if he turned down a chance to find a job when he claimed that for the reason to even come to Narein. “If it wouldn’ be too much trouble.”



“Nah. Go to tha Main Guardhouse when the clock strikes the hour.”



“’Kay. Where’s tha Main Guardhouse?” Link grinned at the embarrassed noise the older man made.



“Right under the Windmill. It’s the center of town, on the north end of Market.”



“Got it. I’ll play tourist till then.” Hell and Damnation! I have the worst luck! I’ll have to do a quick search of the town before this idiot gets off…need to hide my weapon, too. The baton is from the Provost’s Guard and he’ll notice my bracers are tucked full of tools. They passed palms once more and Link set off at an ambling pace, hoping he imagined the watchman’s hand lingering over his. If he makes a pass at me, I’ll brain him.

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Link squatted beside the Guardhouse a little before the clock cried the hour. His dark head was leaned back, pressed against the warm wood of the building, arms resting on top of his knees and hands hanging limply from their wrists. He’d wandered around the town and mapped it mentally, having just enough time afterward to go and visit Stalfos.



The bank was a grand two story building. It seemed to sprout from the mountain with impressive pillars, heavy arching wooden doors banded in iron, vaulting ceilings, and sculpted walls. The outside was the same firebrick red as the mountain, the inside ranging from black marble veined with pink, white and jade for the floor to white marble hinting with black, silver, and gold used for the teller’s counter.



Thick carpets with subtle designs, obviously Dolstrol made, were strategically placed beneath small clustering bits that served for waiting areas. Overstuffed reddish brown leather couches surrounded low tables of highly polished dark wood. Heavy scarlet drapes embroidered with gold thread weighting it along the edges framed the twelve pane windows.



Gold plated chandeliers hung from the thick rafter beams, dripping with crystals that turned the flickering candlelight into rainbow hues and clear light to those below. Screens of laced metal depicting mountain views, birds in flight, and great hunts separating desks. Everything in the lobby was meticulously detailed to the point where even the perceptive thief felt overwhelmed to try to remember it all.



Where he normally would have frowned at such lavishness, he was in awe. Having been built to last, the structure had the taint of age, and like Mistress Cooper, it gave it more charm instead of distracting from it.



Cripes. I’m glad I’m not trying to rob the actual vault. Those doors looked impossible to crack! At least the sapphire is easy to get to.



The jewel was in the shape six inch teardrop. Three topless females in the worst likeness of mermaids that he’d ever seen were rising from a wave’s crescendo, fingertips barely brushing it. Water spilled from beneath the sapphire, rushing down the three females’ figure to fall from the wave supporting them. The cascade of water made a perfect sheet to gurgle and splash into the pool under it. The wet noise filled the building just enough to cover the buzz of conversation.



They probably use that noise to drown out all the conversations about transactions. It’s a wonder they don’t go nuts. This entire place is…off kilter somehow. The thief thought, a frown creasing his brow. Why is such an old and extravagant bank in such a rinky-dink town?



“Oi, Mikau.” The deep voiced broke through the heavy thoughts and the thief lifted his head. Viscen stood over him in a simple grey cotton shirt and brown breeches. Hair cut in layers so it lay flat along his neck was the color of polished mahogany, red highlights obvious in the sun. Sharply pointed ears stuck from under the strands, a diamond twinkling in the right lobe. The friendly eyes were still black and fathomless outside the shade of the helm.



“Oi.” The thief replied, shoving off the wall and grunting as he used the momentum to stand.



“You stay entertained?” The guard asked as he nodded towards the street he wanted to take.



“I managed.”



“Did you see Stalfos T and T?”



“Are ya kidden? First place I found.” Link grinned, not seeing a point in denying it. Stalfos was renowned. It was the oldest bank in the country and had more rumors, ghost stories, and urban legends then most cities. “Too bad I don’t own a shutter box.”



Viscen laughed and pounded the poor thief’s back. “Poor boy! Aw, well. If you open an account there, at lease you’ll have written proof you visited.”



The sore teen yelped out the breath in his lungs as the man pounded away at his bruise. I just want this day to be over! I’ll catch the first ride outta this town and go somewhere civilized!

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Viscen and Link walked away from the last lumber company barely an hour latter. Nether spoke and Link had to work hard to not appear relieved that he’d been turned down at all five companies for one reason or another.



“Sorry, jock.” The older man sighed, hands deep in his breeches pocket.



“Don’t worry about it. It was a long shot. I’ll just…head back down to the city or something. I just came at the wrong season.” Link replied, eyes on the packed ground as they shuffled back towards Viscen’s lodgings. He’d say his farewells to the taller man then and head out of town until nightfall.



“Ya could join the guard.” The watchman joked.



“How would I stand all the excitement? No thanks. I’ll take my chances at the coal mines in the Yards or on a farm in Nocturne Plains.” The blue-eyed teen replied airily before giving the man a shrug to show he was kidding. “I’m gonna go ahead an’ start heading down.”



The watchman frowned, eyeing the shorter teen. “You walked up the mountain?”



“Oh, hell no. I hitched a ride. I don’t think I’ll chance it goin’ down, though.” The thief admitted. He gave a slight wave. “I’ll see you next season, Viscen.”



“Be careful then, Mikau.” Viscen returned the short goodbye, both going their separate ways.

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The thief perched in a patch of boulders just above the bank. He watched the sun set over the horizon, giving the sky a fiery brilliance that could only be achieved a few thousand feet in the air. The orb burned itself out over the edge of the world, the silvery moon chasing it gaily across the navy sky with its entourage of stars studding the pitch.



Fires burst into existence along the front gate, torchlight throwing shadows along the main streets. No laughter or voices drifted up from the town, but he could pick out too dark shapes moving towards their homes or bars.



Life here was intoxicating in its simplicity, but it held no long-term appeal to the long-eared teen. He felt out of his element in the calm. Would he really be able to quit thieving when he finished with these jobs? What would he do after this?



What did he want?



He’d always thought of his Gramps first, but he was chaffing under the restrictions. Not enough to rebel, but enough to wonder what the hell he was doing. Fourteen going on forty, he’d yet to do something truly selfish.



If I don’t quit…my luck will run out one day and I’ll find myself in Shieka Penitentiary with one hand. Why does it feel like my life is pretty much over if I’m not stealing?



A resounding thud and clinking of iron keys brought him to the present. The guards were locking up and heading home. The teen shook his head to clear his mind of unnecessary thoughts and watched the bank.



Three hours later, the thief confirmed the patrol times for the guards. They circulated the area around the bank once an hour and checked inside the windows only briefly. The guards had just changed and the new one was just as lazy.



Obviously no one was expecting a break in. Normal routine soothed the teen’s frazzled nerves. He watched the last guard tromp back down the slope into town, jumping from his hiding place after ensuring the baton was firmly in his belt and tying back his hair.



He tread lightly over the hard packed earth, eyes set on the heavy doors and wondering if he should try to remove a pane of glass instead. He stepped lightly onto the granite steps and paused, the hairs on the back of his neck rising in warning. He dropped and rolled to the side, hearing a profound thud sound in his wake.



He stopped in a crouch, yanking his baton free. A shadowy beast was rising to all fours, a deep growl making the air tremble around its massive form. It appeared to be a wolf, but he’d never seen a wolf the size of a small horse. Its legs were thick with corded muscle beneath silver threaded black fur, eyes a glittering green coated orange, large teeth glowing from the film of saliva coating them.



Too big! That wolf is way too damn big! What happened to acceptably sized animals! Link wondered before beginning to panic. What if it howls? Cripes! I’ll have to live in these damn mountains till I can try again! Oh, fuck! What if it hunts me down? I don’t know if this is any better then the armor!



The wolf seemed to tire of the teen’s frozen silence, thundering forward on paws with wicked claws digging deep into the rock solid earth. The thief backpedaled before throwing his body out of the way. The wolf drifted into a turn, muscles bunching as it lunged onto the new course.



Teeth and hot breath kissed the thief’s face as he jerked from the gnashing jaws, whacking the lead core baton on the long snout out of reflex.



The canine’s head snapped to the side and he skidded to a halt, preparing to attack. Link jumped towards it while the beast lagged, bashing the maxilla harder and drawing a muffled yelp and a burst of thunderous sneezes. He angled his shoulders forward, pulling his stomach and hips away from the slashing claws and then ducking another snap of teeth. He drove the blunt baton up into the soft gap between the jawbone, hearing the click of teeth cracking together.



The wolf and teen danced around the other warily, taking cheap shots. The canine could smell the heavy musk of fear but knew it didn’t signal weakness. The human before it could think through the trepidation and making the thief a worthy opponent. It had learned from underestimating the teen. The canine lost two teeth from the baton making itself known and kept its broken front left leg tucked against its chest.



Link had a nasty gash on his shoulder and a light nip on his thigh, but not enough to break flesh. The wolf was far more frightening than the armor. The beast was just as unnatural in the thief’s eyes, but even realer then animated bits of armor. It was faster, more cunning, and vicious.



The lanky teen blinked sweat from his eyes, breathing heavily, unaccustomed to the thin air with such rigorous exercise. He wanted to throw up, his throat burned for water, nose running and bleeding from cracking in the dryness. His head felt light and he didn’t like it, but he couldn’t exactly recall why. His world had narrowed to the limping, stalking wolf as they circled to find an opening.



In it dashed and Link waited, body tense as he prayed he didn’t overestimate his reach. He stabbed the baton forward, rewarded with a startled yelp as the blunt end ripped through the socket to pulverize the delicate orb. It jerked way, teeth snapping as the thief slammed the end still in the socket roughly against the encasing bone. A satisfying crunch announced the skull fracturing under the strain, the baton breaking free.



The canine went mad and began to lunge and slash wildly. It was greatly hindered on its left side, unable to see or use the leg effectively. Link used it to his advantage, taunting and jabbing the great beast at every opening.



A lucky blow from the great, shaking head caught the teen in the stomach. He flew back and landed hard, breath leaving his lungs. In the wolf limped, finally having its prey right where it wanted him. Link lifted his head, seeing three wolves finally settling into one. It was too close, blood still gushing from the mashed eye and mixing with foamy spittle from the gaping jowls.



The teeth filled chops descended towards the throat, ready to worry it in half. Link shoved his fist straight into the eager mouth, gagging the beast and making it impossible for it to bite down. It coughed hot saliva onto his face, but he plucked the remaining eye free before it could yank back.



It tried to break free, but Link had dug his fingers into the soft meat of the throat. The thief growled, face unrecognizable as it warped with his own rage-tinted desperation. He jammed his arm further down, feeling the mandible tensing, striving to close, the tongue trying to urge the too large appendage from the mouth. The teeth pressed into the firm muscle of the teen’s biceps, but didn’t break skin. The panicking thief began to bash the beast’s head roughly, the sounds of frenzied pain blocked by his arm.



Warm liquid splashed on his face, copper filled his mouth and coated his tongue as he gasped. The berserk teen didn’t even notice the wolf collapsing to its side, feet pawing the air, claws catching and tearing into his right shoulder. He pounded the skull even after it gave way with an audible crunch. Even after the throat stopped convulsing around his arm and bits of unknown meat smacked his cheeks.



His arm burned, shoulder ached, thigh throbbed, throat raw from his gasps as he finally was forced the halt his assault. He pulled his arm free, wincing as the still sharp teeth grazed his arm. The slightly shredded canvas was soaked with body fluids best left unknown. He stared down at the body, picking out the details in the dim light. The top part of the skull was crushed into the ground, the long tongue lank on the ground and coated in dust. The body was twisted and unnatural, deep ruts gouged in the earth where it had struggled to right its body.



The temptation to continue pummeling the body sang through the teen’s body, unresolved anger at the world in general making his blood race and mind wild. His senses registered someone walking towards the slope and brought the thief’s sanity back. He grabbed the beast by the hind legs and tugged it to a patch of scraggly bushes. Under close scrutiny, it would be a worthless hiding place. But in the cover of darkness with an inattentive sentry, it would do.



He waited for the man to leave, the cloying scent of death and blood making him gag. He breathed shallowly through his mouth, using the collar of his jacket to further filter the stench. The shock and adrenaline mixing just right to allow the teen to ignore the pain radiating from the lacerations. The sentry yawned and stomped back down the path.



Link emerged from the bushes, barely waiting for the watchman to be gone. He quietly trotted up the stairs and chose the fifth window on the far left of the doors, since no one bothered to walk down that far. He pulled two suctions cups, licked them and stuck them on the glass before tugging a glasscutter from his bracer, making quick lines along the pane. Tucking it back, he grabbed the two suction cups and pulled the glass out with a quick jerk.



Setting the piece gently off to the side, he clamored in through he window. A quick glance and a few heartbeats of holding his breath ensured the vacancy of the room. There were no shifting figures, no sense of life. The only movement was the curtain of water spilling from the fountain, giving disturbingly cheerful gurgles in the gloom.



Link knew he was being hasty, but he didn’t want to wait for any more surprises. If a damn suit of armor shows up, I’ll fucken’ lose my mind!



He walked to the fountain, footsteps barely audible over the water. He vaulted over the fountain lip, splashing into the deep water. He stared down at his vague reflection broken by ripples and waves. He felt just as tenuous in existence, his mind still numb from the battle. It had almost been like fighting a human. There had been real intelligence behind those cold, hard eyes. Ruthless and calculating, but how different from the way he had been?



No, don’t think about it. Too much’s going on and you can’t think straight. It was a thing, not a person. Dead now in any case. He ducked his head under the sheet of water, cleaning off the worst of the flecks of flesh and great splashes of blood. He pulled back, gasping and shaking his head to shed most of the water. His eyes traveled up; seeing the prize that should have been somehow dimmer after all the drama he just waded through.



Knee-deep in water that slapped against his thighs as he stepped forward, ambient light catching in the blue stone. Mist billowed before his vision like a breath exhaled in the dead of winter.



Ice shivering with blue that rivaled the color of his eyes glazed dark rock walls, bits of snow drifting down.



An empty lakebed like a gaping wound in the earth, rain slicing through his vision and gathering into a pathetic puddle at the base.



Standing unsteadily on all fours on ice that chilled him through, staring up at a daunting waterfall frozen solid.



His vision strangely grainy, colors slightly inverted as he looked into the iced up depths to see countless ghostly figures of the badly depicted mermaids frozen in graceful positions of swimming.



An empty throne cloaked with heady emotions of rage and regret, the steady echo of rushing water, gentle splashing and the heady scent of fish.



Diving towards a deep pool, the sound of the waterfall filling his senses, the roiling surface rushing to meet him.



Standing in the middle of an island at sunrise, the reddish-orange glow catching on the deep waters spread out before him, peace that something was restored flowing through his veins and the sense of an ally at his back.



A mere-boy on his knees, head bowed before a grave in a shaft of glittering sunlight, grief written on every line of his strange body.



The giggling of a mere-girl in his ears and shocked by the worshipful nature that she gazed at him.



—“Don’t tell my father…”—



The images trickled from his mind and the thief didn’t bother trying to catch them. He merely climbed until his fingertips joined the stone ones along the jewel. Sapphire light flared against the closed lids, but other surprises announced themselves as he pried the precious gem loose and shoved it into the inner pocket of his jacket. Scaling back down and sloshing out of the fountain easily and leaving a long trailing puddle to the window didn’t even bother his conscience.



Link was strangely clear headed, making sure the coast was clear before slipping out and replacing the pane. It would fall out easily if touched, but it would do until he got out of the city.



You’re not outta hot water yet. The thief tried to tell himself firmly as he dashed across the clear yard and through the bushes. He jumped, landing lightly on the roof of an inn a story below the cliff.

------------



Link collapsed a few hundred yards from the town, feeling too weak to move. He’d bandaged the wounds over brief pauses as he’d made his path over the roofs. The adrenaline was dwindling; blood loss taking its toll and eating away at what was left of his strength and wits, leaving him close to defenseless.



It took three hours to make it up by rig…how long by foot? The thief wondered, the gem heavy against his heart, almost mocking him.



He forced his body to stand, waiting for the world to settle back as one before moving on. He stumbled and bumbled his way tree-by-tree, grabbing with his left hand to make sure he stayed upright.



The world dimmed to darkness a few times over the next hour. He did a face plant into a river, taking gasping gulps to relieve his thirst. He rolled into the river to allow it to clean his body. He crawled down stream, formless canines chasing him in the crazed thief’s mind.



Half a mile downstream, the fading teen dragged his near useless body from the water and clambered up into a mighty oak’s crown. Cradled in the protective branches, the thief finally drifted into oblivion.

------------



In Narein, the inhabitants of the town wouldn’t discover the theft until dawn. Horror and panic would ensue upon the discovery of the massive wolf’s body. Due to the scent that still clung to Link upon his departure, the hounds would refuse to follow.



The canines wouldn’t see a human in the smell, but a dominant creature that would bash them bloody if they threatened him. The hounds had more sense than humans.



So, human trackers would set out to find the thief, picking up his trail outside the walls just before noon. They would follow it to the river, but wouldn’t be able to pick up the trail after. The thief had exited on a shale bank that would leave no proof of his existence after the sun rose. They would scour the area, but never look up and miss the passed out teen curled like a child in his mother’s arms amongst the oak branches.

--------------



Zelda Omake!!!



The images trickled from his mind and the thief didn’t bother trying to catch them. He merely climbed until his fingertips joined the stone ones along the jewel. Sapphire light flared against the closed lids, the sudden metallic roar catching the thief’s attention.



Fear made his blood freeze for the second time that night. Clinging one handed to the statue’s arms like a sailor on a mast, the teen turned, eyes locking on the suit of armor falling from the rafters. Starlight gleamed against the polished metal, giving it the appearance of been glazed with ice. An axe in each fist and a tail flaring in its wake, it would be a nightmare to defeat when it landed.



The unfairness of the situation wasn’t lost to Link.



Two monsters to guard the last stone! Why the hell not? You know what? FUCK THEM! Fuck this level! I’m just gonna chuck it and run! If Gramps wants this thing so god-damn bad, he can come and face Mr. Magic Armor on his own damn time! I quit! GAME THE FUCK OVER! The teen’s face twisted in wrath, watching the armor glide through the air.



It landed nimbly on its feet, axes raised and ready for action...and then crumpled in a pile of random bits of armor. Pieces skittered across the marble, the noisy crash echoing over the fountain. The helm banged against the fountain’s base, spinning wildly in a circle before coming to a halt.



Link stared, unsure what he’d just witnessed. The armor didn’t reassemble itself and he cleared his throat, vaguely embarrassed.



“Well, then. Take that.”

--------------



A/N: I had fun weaving in a lot of character interaction. It sucks that it took so long to get to the actual heist though. I loved this battle. I can’t wait till I actually have him fighting people. I know, I’m weird! I just love the idea of the thoughts that would or wouldn’t be going through someone’s mind. How the body reacts during and afterwards…How the mind handles the stress. Anyway, I can’t wait for the next chapter. Sorry this one took so long to post. Sadly, next weeks will be a little late in coming. My mom is visiting and I have a roommate moving in, add in some mad Thanksgiving Mayhem and you have a distracted Sealink.



For those of you who don't know...Omake is just a "What if?" kinda deal. That really didn't happen, so please, don't get confused. Me and Bob were talking about it after I posted and thought it would have been hilarious if it'd really happened. I didn't want to change the story, so I just decided to share it as an Omake. ^-^ He didn't get it when he read it..."Sealink, it's in the wrong spot." "Bob, it didn't happen...damnit. Now you've ruined it."



Ulforce Diizoid – Thanks for the compliments! It’s actually a work out for me…it’s a struggle to keep up with the deadline I set for myself. The strange images that assault the poor thief could be that, but he’ll never remember them again. Did you enjoy this bit? ^-^