Legend of Zelda: Book of Mobius

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

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Trees spun overhead, the navy blue sky studded with stars. The rushing sound of water all around him, clinging to his calves as the overwhelming smell of the forest clung to his nose.



He leaned back, falling through the water, bubbles bursting all around him. The teen broke through the other side, sailing through the air, arms spread to wide as golden strands whipped in and out of his vision. The face of the Capital building glided a few yards from his bare feet, dirty steel and all. Fat raindrops chased after him, light flashing from their silvery depths.



Link twisted in mid air, his feet pointed towards the ground rushing to meet him. His feet punched through fire and lightning, the crazed elements exploding into vibrant colors and sound and the teen closed his eyes in response.



The cobalt orbs opened to silver luminosity and mist, a graveyard of swords strewn throughout it the open area with only worn pommels and hilts peeking from the fog and giving proof to a path. A figure stood in a hooded cloak in the center; moonlight shunning the silent form.



He strode towards it uncertainly, breathing forming dense clouds from his parted lips. The teen paused an arms length away, waiting but for what he didn’t know. The hood turned towards him, the black cloak lined in scarlet emblems rippling as the body followed suit.



“Hero.” The figure breathed, voice relieved and feminine. “You’re…” the hood fell back, revealing his Gramps’s old head on top of a man’s body in its prime. “…naked! Don’t tell me yer gonna leave this world the same ya came in!”



Link glanced down and gasped, trying to cover his scrawny, pale form with his hands.



“Aw, not like it’s the first time I’ve seen ya bare, Hero. I want that courage…” A dark olive hand reached out, fingers curved into claws towards him. Link raised his hand to ward him off, taking a few steps back into the crimson haze.



“Hero.” The woman’s voice called at his back, the strange language gliding against his skin like a soothing balm. It was strange to understand and not at the same time. The teen turned sharply, seeing her standing in a white hooded cloak with strange symbols scrolling in indigo along the edges.



He backed away from them both, hands groping around him. The calloused fingers brushed against thick fabric and he started. Grey silk was draped over his shoulder, white, black, and emerald markings braiding along the hem. He opened his mouth to speak, but the mists swirling about his feet darkened to violet.



His gaze shot upward, seeing scarlet and sapphire storms amassing behind the two. Caught in the middle, Link was as steady as the earth that was his element. He could withstand the ravishing of their battles, aligning himself with one or the other to bring them to victory.



Radiant, aurulent light burst from below them, etching out the triforce that branded the back of their hands. The glow caught on the argent blade buried in the bare triangle of earth before him, hilt of amethyst; the perfect blend of the two colors that opposed one another.



“Hero.” The voice was soft and new, but the old nickname still stirred the same agitation in his blood. The teen’s head jerked up, looking into large orange irises backed in yellow. The eyes belonged to a floating piebald imp, tattooed with glowing green; a shock of blond tipped ginger hair pulled into a tail. She was outside the triforce, residing in the shadows it created. Pearly teeth were revealed in a mean spirited grin, a long canine standing out. “Are you sure you aren’t you forgetting anything important?”



Apprehension built inside the teen, sensing the danger that threatened the ones he held dear. He had no evidence to base the sudden onslaught of presentiment, but it overwhelmed him. The triforce beneath his feet burst into a dazzling array of color, overshadowing the others until it blinded even him.



Link’s eyes snapped open, his body restrained and keeping him from jolting up from the pallet. Strong hands were pressed on both shoulders, his sight filled with a man with dark blue eyes, long ears, a shaved head and smooth tanned skin pulled taut over his bones. It was hard to determine the exact age of the unfamiliar male, though he wore rough brown wool cowl.



“Well, well. Good morning, Hero.” The stranger said snidely, eyes heavily hooded as his thin lips pulled into a tight frown. His voice was crisp and cold, the accent unknown to the thief.



“Who—“ Link croaked before to dissolving into a fit of dry coughs. He pulled at his hands to find them strapped to bed frame, forced to make due with curling as tight as possible as his body convulsed. The stranger pressed a flask of cool liquid against his mouth and the thief took slow sips between the fits. Gasping and sated, he settled back into the pillow, trying to orient himself. The blue-eyed gaze drifted over the extravagantly large room, vaguely recognizing the elaborate electric chandeliers, expensive paneling, and gilded rafting. “The Mayor’s place? Who are you?”



“Call me Monk. His son was kind enough to put the room on loan. You should be thankful, considering you burglarized him.” The older man pointed out as he set back on the chair, eyes unreadable. Link frowned, deciding not to touch that particular subject.



The teen tugged at his memory. It was all shadows and mists, so he decided to focus on the important issues for the moment. The door opened, but the teen paid it no heed.



“He’s awake?” The thief recognized the voice and flicked his eyes in the general direction. Just as he’d expected, Chris Houlihan stood in the doorway in simple leather breeches and short sleeved, white cotton shirt, watching him with one bare green eye and the half mask. “You mean it worked!?”



“What worked? Why am I tied down?” He groaned, sitting up as much as the restraints would allow. His head swam for a moment, vision doubling until the teen shut them in self-defense.



—Weightless, air rushing past him and causing his clothing to rustle and snap. —



The lanky thief snapped them open again; sweat breaking out over his skin. The urge to strike someone or something was strong and it abruptly clear why he was held down. He fought to keep his breathing normal, trembling from the force of the remembrance.



His Gramps had tried to kill him.



The cobalt gaze flicked to the other man, noting the satisfied air about Monk. His lips twisted into a sneer; rage bubbling over towards the old man. “I suppose you’re going to explain what happened now? Or will you just stand there and gloat over my lack of knowledge?”



“Tempting as that may be, I suppose I can inform you of much you aren’t aware of.” The man droned.



“How about untying me first?” Link interrupted, head cocked to the side as he looked down his nose.



“As soon as you don’t look like you’re ready to commit murder, thief.” The new voice was a tad deeper and tinged with amusement. Link turned towards him, glad there was at least one person not calling him hero.



The stranger was dressed much in the way as Houlihan, hair was dark green and pulled into a high tail with only a few strands hanging in front of his storm cloud colored eyes. He was a little over six feet, but Link wasn’t good enough to judge his age as anything other than ‘older than me.’ “Don’t recognize me? You could at least learn about the family you stole from.”



The muscles along his shoulders tensed, the teen’s face not shifting from scarcely contained resentment. He was pissed and good manners be damned if he had to pretend otherwise. He clenched his teeth, taking a deep breath through his nose.



“Errol, the Mayor’s son. A pleasure, I’m sure.” He gritted out. “Start explaining how I’m not dead.”



Monk and Houlihan traded looks, the Mayor’s son shrugging his broad shoulders and striding toward the bed and sitting on the foot of the mattress. “It begins with a country named Hyrule—”



“I know about Hyrule.” The teen interrupted dismissively. “I don’t see how it saved my life, though.”



“Oh, do you? Pray tell, Hero.” Monk requested in an indulgent tone. Link shot him a nasty look, hackles going up at the tone. Chris leaned close fingers prodding his biceps lightly.



“Hyrule was the name of this country a long time ago. It was relatively safe and peaceful, the ruling family fair and just.” The teen leaned away from the touch, easily distracted from memories of the person who taught him of the seemingly meaningless history. “The Royal Family died out though. A new group of people invaded, taking over. They bred with most of the Hyrulians and you can tell the purity of the line from the point of the ears. That doesn’t explain how I’m not dead.”



“You have the basics, at least. Want the plot fillers, boy?” Errol ignored the second question, gesturing to the empty air. “The Royal Family didn’t die out, they were murdered. A nasty customer named Ganondorf, who hailed from the deserts to the west, killed them after the Princess Zelda shut her body and soul in some sort of standby state.”



“Which prevented my death.” Link stated blandly, getting irritated with the way this conversation was going and Houlihan pulling his lids away to examine his eye.



“This explanation really does go better with color paper cutouts for display. Ah, well. We’ll just have to make due.” Chris said solemnly, looking a little disappointed and blatantly overlooking the uninterested expression on Link’s face.



“Chris, we talked about this.” Monk grumbled. “Your artistic skills were sorely lacking. How is anyone going to take us seriously if we explain everything with something that looks like a poorly depicted rabbit?”



“That was a hat, not ears!” The wiry man sounded belligerent, mouth tight.



“Chris!” Errol, Monk and Link snapped in unison.



“Alright, alright!” The man subsided, crossing his arms over his chest.



“She didn’t exist in this reality.” Errol continued, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a headache. That explained next to nothing to the crook, but he kept his silence. If Errol was going to just run over whatever he said, the teen wasn’t going to play anymore. “What’s been passed down through the Sages, that’s the faction Monk and I belong to, Zelda kept the Triforce of Wisdom from Ganondorf’s clutches and foiled whatever plan he had.”



“Gramps… told me to give him the Triforce of Courage. Your Princess seemed to know me, too. I suppose that had a hand in saving my life.” He added in the last part in a menacing tone.



The three men shared another look and the cranky teen had to contain his returning agitation. He hated being kept out of the loop.



“What does your Gramps have to do with anything?” Houlihan asked with a cocked brow. Link grunted and shrugged, so the man turned his eyes to Monk’s. When he turned back to the teen, the lens in the mask zoomed in, feeling the teen’s skull. “Did you feel anything, looking at her?”



The teen sighed and shook the professor’s hands from his head. It sounded too hopeful, as if they had expectations riding on him he wasn’t aware of. He answered slowly, thinking out the response as he avoided Chris’s touch. “It felt…familiar. Like I’d done it before.”



That seemed to be the right thing to say because the trio visibly relaxed. “You…that is, your…ancestor would be the best way to describe it…was the last one in the Princess’s company before she sealed herself away.”



Link was given a reprieve from being molested, allotting them a moment before bringing up his next question.



“What’s a Triforce of Courage and how do I have it?”



“That’s more complicated.” Errol hedged as he crossed his long arms over his chest, but the thief growled. He gave the teen an amused look. “We’re not really sure. Aren’t you curious how you’re still alive?”



“If you’re ready to tell me.” The lanky boy replied impatiently.



“I just know that Ganondorf tried to claim it and it broke, selecting you and Princess Zelda to carry the other two. It’s chained to your line, passed down the generations.” Errol continued to ignore the question, grey eyes smiling. The taller man paused, seeming to consider. Link felt that twitch returning with a vengeance as Houlihan started to try to pry his jaw open to examine his teeth. “Damnit, Chris! He’s not a horse for auction! Stop harassing the boy so I can talk to him!”



“You’ve inherited a mighty legacy, Hero of Time.” Houlihan said as he pulled away, looking mildly put off to not be able to play anymore.



“Stop calling me that!” Link snapped, hands curling into fists. “Just because of some freak mark on my hand you think I’m some legend?”



“Apparently you look the same. The Princess recognized you. I’m not sure about the mark, though. I’ve yet to see one.” Houlihan waggled his eyebrows at that and Link felt slightly ill.



“Looks have nothing to do with whatever. It’s all genetics. I must have been wrong about her knowing me. I couldn’t understand the gilly, so how would I know?” Of course, he knew that she had. Thinking back, he could understand her at least speaking his name a few times. Link didn’t want to be the Legendary Hero they seemed ready to pin on him. I just wanna go home.



“Regardless, you’ve survived something that should have killed you.” Monk pointed out, leaning against the wall and tucking his hands into the full sleeves. “Someone wants you alive. Take responsibility for your actions. Kill the evil Ganondorf and save Princess Zelda from his clutches.”



“Hell no! I’m not even sure I even believe you! You won’t explain how I even got outta that pit!” The thief shouted, hackles rising once more and baring his teeth. “Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what the fuck to do?”



Errol gave him a pitying look, enraging him further. Monk looked bored, as if he’d expected it all along. Houlihan’s hands were twitching in his direction, muttering under his breath.



“It’s prophesized that when the Princess was wakened, the world would fall into ruin. So far, it’s been correct. Three who hold the fate in their hands: One to enslave and destroy, one to bring harmony and order, and one to protect and dispense justice.” Errol informed him slowly, grey eyes dark. “Even if you aren’t the Hero, we could use your skills in finding the real one and distracting Ganondorf. Just give me a moment and I’ll explain the point of Sages—”



“Let me go! I want to go home!” He sounded petulant, he knew, but it was hard to deny his base instincts. He needed the familiarity of the Lower Levels and their inhabitants. They couldn’t possibly ask a thief to seriously save a Princess from some evil King.



Monk tugged the bindings away, gesturing towards the balcony with a hand. “Go, then.”



Link stood, stretching his tired and weak muscles carefully. He was in a long linen shirt and baggy breeches, but he’d deal with it until he could get back in his own clothing. His hair, he noticed as he pulled it into his view, was buttery gold. He’d have to re-dye it once more.



He edged past Monk, eyeing the older man as he opened the balcony and swung the glass doors open. The blue gaze turned back forward, shock freezing his blood. A few unfeeling steps brought him against the marble railing, hands barely touching the cold stone.



“Wha….?” He murmured, eyes wide as they took in the unbelievable scene.



The Capital Building still speared the heavens, but he could only see the very top tower and a few tips of the other roofs that had surrounded it. Dirty water lapped along the tiles, so high he was sure it brushed the top steps of Impa Quarter. Ribbons of rainbows streaked through the water, deceptively beautiful. The distant cries of the crows made him shiver involuntarily, picking out floating objects in the huge lake where they perched.



“The people are unsure about calling it ‘Crow Bait Lake’ or ‘Lake of Undead.’ Many spirits of the people caught in the sudden tide were crushed or drowned. Nasty death, either way I can assure you. Their bodies are still rising from the muck.” Monk told him calmly, as if he were speaking of a rough bit of weather.



“The droughts obviously not a problem anymore.” The teen remarked coolly, though he was a raging storm of emotions on the inside. Mistress Cooper, Marks, Tris, Renny, Reno, Travis, Gerad, Ben, and the countless other men and women he’d befriended, helped, and depended on had disappeared overnight. His Gramps and some guy called Ganondorf were trying to kill him.



He was all alone.



“That’s how you survived. We found you in a bad way after the water level rose. You were in the caves that Monk frequents.” Errol informed him in a neutral voice. “You’ve been under for near four months.”



“I had to put you in an experimental Healing Chamber for a few weeks so your body could heal! After that, I put you in a drug induced coma to give your mental state enough time to recuperate.” Houlihan told him in a pleased voice.



“You sound surprised it worked.” Errol commented quietly, giving the man an unreadable look. Chris merely smirked, giving the other man a superior look.



“I’m fifteen, then.” Link told them, a little at a loss. Where would he go now? “It was a week from my birthday when I went to place the jewels.”



The teen turned and strode towards the door. “I think I’ll use the front entrance.”



“Oh, come now. You’re a thief, so act the part. Scale the wall, Hero.” Monk taunted.



“Don’t ever call me Hero again.” He hissed, eyes flashing in rage. Monk said nothing, but a brow rose in obvious amusement. Link opened the door and bracing his left hand against the frame, turning back before he stepped out. “Grow up old man.”



“You won’t do it, then?” Errol asked. The teen paused, staring out into the hallway.



“No. I’m not who you think I am, look alike or Triforce. I’ve had enough adventure for a lifetime in any case. Clean the mess yourselves.”



Link pulled the door shut with a soft click.

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The lad slipped from the mansion, chilled from the scene he’d left and walked into. Sick people filled the corridors and rooms inside. The constant chorus of coughs and moans haunting him. The Provost Guard rattled by, a covered cart pulled by them. He could see arms and legs poking from under the canvas, the impression of bodies lining it along the top.



Surprisingly, there were no bodies or sick people in the street. Aside from the cart for the dead, it was relatively clean. People wearing masks and smocks walked in and out of houses, eyes with dark circles and haunted looks within them. Pairs spoke quietly on street corners, some leaning against one another with racking shoulders and grief shrouding their silent forms. Black crepe strung from most of the mansions, the Quarter in a state of perpetual mourning.



“The plague’s been persisting for a month. They’ve been working non-stop to find a cure.” A quiet voice notified the teen. He didn’t turn, knowing it was Viscen who stood behind him. “Too bad ya didn’ join the guards when I invited ya.”



Link turned, sapphire eyes meeting black. There was no smile on the guard’s face. He stood in civilian attire, but there was no mistaking that bearing. His hair was a little longer, brushing his shoulders. The older man looked tired, run down.



“The guard life doesn’t suit me.” The teen admitted, turning away and starting down the street.



“You’ve gotten taller, Mikau.” The watchman commented. Link shot him a look before he realized that no one had called him by his true name. It was always lad or hero from Monk and Houlihan.



“I guess. What’re ya doin’ down here? Doesn’ Narein need you or something?” The filcher grunted, shoving his hands into his pockets and hunching. His body protested even walking and it took all his concentration to keep going instead of stopping for a rest.



“Some of Narein’s remaining people are down here.” Link felt the glance, but didn’t comment. “I hear you slept through the Shift.”



“The what?”



“Didn’ they tell you anythin’ up there?” He sounded disbelieving, but Link could only shrug.



The teen gave into the urge to rest, leaning against a wall and sliding down until he was crouching. His breath came in a bit harder than he’d like to admit, his eyes tearing up with suppressed emotion and fatigue.



The guard hunkered down beside him, arms resting on his upraised knees. “The Shift affected everyone. I did a damage assessment a month back. The whole country has been overrun by Unknowns, twisted forests of metal and plant, marshes in the Yards, Dolstrol in ruins, the Water Treatment Plant is putting out poison water and started the plague, and Darunia has erupted. It’s not just Kakariko, Mikau. Everyone is suffering from the awakening.”



Link listened, head between his knees. His all too active imagination dug up the images and how the others were suffering. He’d never felt so small and worthless before. He knew the Shift was because he and Gramps awakened the girl, but he didn’t want admit it out loud. If he did, he would have to fight who knew what and get involved in affairs best left to others.



What’s the point, anyway? It’s not like I’d be saving anyone. I don’t have Gramps…and even if I did, I would want to try to return the favor he did me on the wooden walk. Even if I could stop whatever’s going on…you can’t bring back the dead. He rubbed his face against his knees.



“Narein is gone, then?” Link finally asked, voice dull.



“No. Evidently cutting down the trees that surrounded the village for the few acres we did saved it. The lava missed it completely and the wildfire it started couldn’t reach us.” Viscen told him with laughter in his voice. He draped his arm around the teen’s shoulder. “It’s irony if you ask me. Ya wouldn’t believe how much a fuss everyone put up to stop the clearing of the nearby trees. Worked out for the best, if you ask me.”



The former thief took comfort from the casual touch. Viscen treated him normally, without malice or grudge. He couldn’t bring back what he lost, but he could build something new.



The hand squeezing his shoulder was crossing the line and he gave the guard a nasty look in warning. The watchman sighed, looking dejected as he removed the offending appendage.



“What else happened?” Link asked, leaning his head back against the cold, dirty brick wall to stare up into the grey, cloud covered sky.



“A lot of people changed into the Unknowns. Houlihan said it had something to do with the purity of their lineage, whatever that means.” Viscen replied, watching the disturbed teen carefully. The azure eyes were hollow and lackluster, lines of strain framing them and his mouth. A silver loop glittered in his lobe and he wondered when the boy got a piercing.



“You’re a Sage, then?” Link queried, glancing at the older man.



“Yeah. How’d you beat the wolf?” Viscen rolled his eyes at the obviously faked innocent look. “I know you took the Sapphire, Mikau. It wasn’t too big of a jump to link you. If I hadn’t been on watch, you’d probably would’ve went without notice.”



“Just my luck.” The teen droned in a wry tone.



“You look better with blonde hair. Matches your coloring.” The watchman commented offhand, rewarded with rolling eyes as a reply. “So?”



Link remained silent, considering for a moment. He finally gave a defeated sigh and gave a brief rendition of the struggle. The guard didn’t make comment for a long while. The lanky teen watched a couple pass them, one leaning on the masked one, obviously sick. He could see nasty boils and black skin.



“Ya’ve got some luck.” The watchman finally said, sounding a little uncomfortable.



“Y’all were screwing with my marks, weren’t y’all?” Link accused, looking at the older man.



“If ya’d hit us all right after the Emerald, we wouldn’t have had any resistance. That break let us set up defense.” Viscen gave a rueful grin and ruffled the teen’s hair. “Good thing yer on our side now. Half our own Shifted into Unknowns.”



Link didn’t say anything, turning his gaze away. His conviction to not become involved had only increased as the conversation progressed. There was no way a lone filcher could do anything against the kind of odds they spoke of. The entire country was sick or changed, life no longer what he remembered. He just wanted to get away from it all.



“I’m not a Sage or whatever.” He stood, mindful of the dark look that crossed the watchman’s face. “Deal with it yerself.”



He began to stride away, listening to the coming thunder. A cold wind cut through him and the sense of life draining from him became prominent. He felt chilly and empty, as if he’d lost something in so firmly stating his position in the affairs.



“We saved your life, Mikau! You owe us!” The man snapped, righteous anger in his tone. “What kinda hero turns from those in need?”



Link snapped, turning sharply and baring his teeth. “I never asked fer yer help! I ne’er asked fer anythin’! I just wanted a better life fer my Gramps and me!” He slashed his hand in emphasis, brows knit. “I’m no damn hero! I’ma mudlark, filcher, puppy piddle, or Lower Level scum! What kin I do against somethin’ yer talken’ about?”



His breathe seethed between his teeth, rage growling along with the thunder. There was only stony fury on the guard’s face. Link’s shoulders slumped, hanging his head so the bangs covered most of his face. I can’t save anyone. I can’t fix this. I can’t make anything better.



“Rot in the hell you helped create then, thief.” Viscen sneered, voice bubbling with contempt.

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The air was thick with curtains of water, making the visibility next to nil. The suburbs were at his back, deserted except for the dead that awaited the Provost Guard to make their rounds. They offered no inspiration for what the hell he was going to do now. Soaked and thoroughly tired of moping, Link blinked the excess moisture from his eyes.



The thief walked through the town gates, surprised to see the older wooden planks broken on the outside of the city wall. They were replaced with steel, giving more in the way of protection than before. He glanced at the sign giving the times it closed and opened, noting them thoughtlessly. He ran his palm over the wet metal as he passed, ignoring the stinging cold.



I don’t have any weapons. I don’t even have my picks. What kind of living can I scrounge up for myself? He mused, water streaming down his face. His thoughts followed the same track for quite a while, circling back and retracing the same lines from different angles.



A crying yelp caught his attention. The lanky teen frowned, trying to locate the sounds of the cries. He tracked them carefully, mind mercilessly blank from worries or grief-filled thoughts of all he’d lost and questioning why he was still alive.



He stumbled up three hunched figures, their attention on something small in the middle of them. He chunked a rock at them, hitting on in the middle of the back. The screech, roar was unworldly and the hairs on the back of his neck tried to stand despite their sodden state.



“Go on! Git!” Link yelled, trying to appear intimidating with another rock. Three sets of eyes shimmering with an unnatural light focused on him. He growled, holding the rock higher and preparing to let it fly. The three Unknowns, for what else could they be, slunk into the rain and only leaving their uneven footsteps in their wake.



The crook watched them go, but they were lost to the rain filled night. He approached their prize carefully, settling onto his haunches. It was the size of a full-grown cat, the fur long, dark and thick. It was curled into a ball, trembling and wet. He could see the glint of metal along most of its body, blending flawlessly with the flesh.



“Oi.” He reached out and stroked the wedged head, fingers edging the flattened ears. “What are you?”



“Link?” The creature uncurled, large luminescent eyes glistening in the weak light. “I phought ya died?”



“Reno?” Link flinched thoughtlessly, unsure if he was right. The voice was familiar, but it was throatier and garbled somewhat. “What happened to you?”



—“A lot of people changed into the Unknowns. Houlihan said it had something to do with the purity of their lineage, whatever that means.”—



Evidently they don’t change all the way if they were half and half. Link thought grimly, unsettled by seeing the redhead boy as a fox creature.



“I dunno. I woke up like diss” He uncurled slightly, using his only real leg being the front right. His ears were overwhelming compared to his head. “Some’phin’ss wrong wiph my body. I cain’ move it no more.”



Link scooped up Reno, surprised at the weight. He used his shirt to support Reno, scratching the soft ears awkwardly. “I think I know someone who can help ya. Don’ worry.”



“Where’d ya go, Link?”



“I wuz hurt real bad. I just woke up. How did you miss the flood?” Link asked, trotting through the rain towards the gates. They’d be closed soon, he was sure.



“I wuzz workin’ a job in tha quarter when tha Shiffft begun.” He buried his snout into Link’s throat, not quite sure he believed that the teen was alive. “I melded wit a sheet press at tha factory.”



The thief scowled, navigating the empty streets with ease. Reno seemed to have accepted his lot in life. Then again, he’d had a few more months to get used to the idea then Link did. He could hear the groaning gears as the gates closed for the night at his back.



“I told you not to play with those jobs, Reno! Cripes! I wouldn’ even play wit tha factories!”



“Ya did so! Ya flilched from Malo!”



“That wuz different! I filched from the President! I didn’ go in the actual factory!”



“Detailz, detailsss.” Reno muttered, but didn’t press the issue. He felt safe in Link’s arms. It’d been months since he’d been able to relax. Always running, always hiding. Then his body up and died, leaving him unable to do much of anything but drag it around.



Link felt the fox-Reno relax and finally sleep. He panted softly, blood buzzing. He would pay dearly for this favor, he was sure. The coltish teen didn’t mind too much, he finally had a motive to do what they wanted him to. He just dreaded the dangers that were in store. He was a filcher, not a soldier.



He could feel the warmth returning, that strange sense of life that dwelled within him. He knew it to be the Triforce; the part of that he’d tried to deny. It felt good to have it back. Link had felt like less of a person without it.



The teen paused, hiding Reno in the excess clothing of his shirt. He shouldered the door to the mansion open, ignoring the annoyed calls from those tending the sick. It didn’t take long to climb the stairs, dodging the people walking up and down the stairs. He could only hope that the so-called Sages were still in the same ballroom he’d left them at.



He trudged into the reception area, leaning his ear against the door and listening. Deep voices talking softly filtered through the thick wood. Link winced mentally, wishing he didn’t have to come crawling back soaked and ragged. Swallowing his pride, he gave the ballroom door a savage kick.



The voices on the other side were silenced and he could sense someone walking towards the door. Errol swung the door open, a frown tugging on his too thin lips. His thick brows rose when he saw the dripping boy with a bundle against his stomach. Cobalt eyes peered at him through the clumping bangs.



“I’ll do it.” He growled. “But under one condition.”



“What’s that?” Errol asked slowly, concerned about what the thief would ask for. He wasn’t going to give the King’s ransom for some mudlark’s help.



“Fix him.” The eyes dropped down to the bundle, the protective arm over it slowly moving to reveal an Unknown in his clutches. “Something’s wrong and I can’t do it.”



“Why the hell are you bringing an Unknown in here, you bloody fool?” Errol hissed, backing away. The boy was more cracked than he thought!



“He’s not an Unknown.” Link’s voice was deadly quiet, gaze intense as it bored into Errol’s. His blood boiled in his veins and Reno was the only thing that kept him from striking the man. The fox blinked, turning his large violet eyes to the thief that kept him in his clutches before glancing at Errol.



“I’m Reno.” The fox informed the older man, ears twitching in disdain and the eyes became heavily hooded. Errol winced away, not looking re-assured at all. Reno couldn’t help himself, giving the older man a toothy smile. Silver teeth mingled with ivory, giving him a very impressive grin. “I t’ink he’z skerd of me, Link.”



“You are menacing, ya know.” The crook admitted, too amused to be upset.



“My, my, my! My apprentice has brought me a gift! Good lad! Good lad!” Houlihan pushed the mayor’s son out of the way, fingers curled into grasping claws as both the lens and the green eye focused on the fox-Reno.



“Whoa, whoa! Calm down, guy!” Link backed away as Reno tried to tuck his head back in the shirt. “I just want you to fix the metal parts of his body!”



“That would require some…dissecting…yes. I’ll need to dismantle him.” The older man looked positively gleeful, fingers caressing the unwilling fox’s fur.



The teen grasped the hand, squeezing it in warning. Houlihan glanced up, frowning at the interruption.



“Can ya avoid taking him apart?” The thief asked patiently.



The man huffed, looking bothered by the very thought of not getting to do as he pleased with the fox. The tall teen shifted his grip, digging his thumb into the tender wrist. Houlihan gave him an amused look.



“I’ll try.”



“You will.”



A disappointed look crossed his face once more. “Very well. I won’t take apart anything attached to flesh. I will need to examine his clockwork, though.”



“Link, this ain’ tha guy ya told me abou’ iz, it?” Reno asked, just a tad worried about the exchanged.



“No worries, jock. He’ll fix ya up. Won’tcha?” Link eyed the taller man, only slightly comforted by the affirmative. The teen glanced down and quirked a brow at the violet eyed fox mockingly. “Or are ya scared?”



Reno made an annoyed yip and turned his head towards Houlihan. “Aw, well. If ya say so.”



Link handed over fox-Reno to Houlihan, hoping that he wasn’t handing Reno’s life—and his—over to the wrong people. I shouldn’t have to worry if someone is going to dismantle my friend. Cripes. This whole situation is all screwed up.

--------



A/N: Bet y’all are used to it being late by now.



Ulforce Diizoid— Thank you again! I always appreciate your support and comments!



How old is Ganon? Not sure…I don’t think I’ll ever know, either. I am glad to hear it was a surprise! I had to work hard to keep him likable and not suspected.



Ganon really has made a mess of things. Here comes little housekeeper Link to clean up and put him in the corner! I know my descriptions of all the areas leave something to be desired. I’ll get to them soon enough!



I was listening to Dane Cook when I thought that up. If you listen to him…it’s where he makes a guy at Walgreen’s (The Wall) angry at him. Heh. Wow, I’m weird. Anyway!



The Golden Land or Sacred Realm, is where the Goddesses left the Triforce or live. I can’t remember which…but I’ll be looking it up!