Legend of Zelda: Book of Mobius

Reading something.—Remembering something someone “said” or did.— Thinking Sensing something
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Link woke up in the middle of the night, vaguely concerned on where exactly he was. He could hear gentle, rhythmic breathing in the same room from one other person. There was the hush of the night just outside the walls. The air was cool, a glorious absence of sulfur confirming he was nowhere near the volcano depths. The area where he lay was far too soft to be his pallet at Kakariko. The thief sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the weight just on the left side of the blankets. His back complained, muscles stiff, sore and bruised. His right arm was tucked in a sling and it took him a moment to remember he’d dislocated it.

The azure eyes peered through the gloom, slowly adjusting enough for him to make out sparse furnishings. He was, to his shock, in a real four-poster bed. A shuttered window was over his head, a cool draft slipping through to caress his burned, raw skin lovingly.

His right arm throbbed as he pulled it from the sling but was easily pushed to the back of his mind. He wore a long shirt, the cotton soft against his skin. He plucked at the undyed fabric thoughtfully before casting about for his other clothing. His tunic and mail shirt were draped over the back of a chair. His trousers folded neatly in the seat, the rest of his gear set on top. His boots were in front of the chair, the sword hung by its belt on the chair and shield leaning against the back.

“Cook meh shome…” Reno muttered from his feet. Link watched the boy, but the fox didn’t stir except to tuck into a tighter ball. The teen gave a slight smile, arranging the blanket over the kit before slipping silently from the covers.

The wooden floor was chilly under his bare feet, the rough wood teasing the tender soles. He tugged on the leather pants, noticing with mild irritation that the white leather was now a downy gray. The recently damaged right shoulder gave a twinge of protest with the sudden use. He tucked in the nightshirt and tugged on the boots without bothering with stockings. The thief buckled the straps soundlessly, standing up straight and stretching somewhat to warm his muscles. He slipped his right arm back into the sling. It wasn’t really needed, but it could only help at this point due to his self-destructive tendency to disregard his injuries.

He wasn’t leaving just yet, but he needed his bearings. His memory of stepping into that shimmering indigo light was hazy. They’d landed in front of Stalfos Treasure and Trust, he was sure.

—Dawn was breaking over the horizon, colors vibrant amber in the thin air. The bank stood unchanged, constant and steady before them. It was silly, but Link drew from that deep-seated presence. Exhaustion was clouding his mind, but he could almost swear that the building exuded a strange sort of patience. He glanced over at the Goron beside him, a tired smile tugging at his lips. It was hard not to be pleased after escaping that mess.—

Link slipped soundlessly from the small room and into the living area. The dreaded silence that cloaked the mountain village pressed heavily against his long ears. It was a singing tone, oppressive and mocking as it jangled the thief’s nerves. No living soul stirred in the space, no presence waited within the teen’s senses.

He rolled his foot heel to toe with each step, knees barely bent, helping to create the noiseless stride. He scarcely breathed, eyes and ears straining. He stopped in front of the exit, leaning towards the door and closing his eyes to concentrate. Undertones of life thrummed just on the opposite side of the door.

Steady breathing, soft rasp of rough skin against loose dirt and the general murmur from a digesting belly.

The filcher rocked back on his heels a little, casting a glance for a secondary exit before he remembered something important. He was a guest in Narein, not a thief. He’d proved his intentions through bringing back Corbin. There was no reason to sneak about.

—A constant rumble made the air shiver and pebbles dance. The three heads turned to watch a group of five rolling Gorons approach at an alarming speed. The thief sighed heavily, eyes drooping as his body reminded him just how weary he was. Cold wetness brushed his check, drawing his gaze from the approaching rock men. Reno gave an open mouth grin, whiskers whisking back and forth.

“Jushht a bit more.” The boy encouraged, violet eyes huge and knowing. Link gave a lopsided grin, grasping his hurting shoulder prior to looking back towards the Gorons.

Darmon, he could tell from the noticeable size difference, was at the forefront. The teen wondered if they were coming to close the entrance, disregarding the noon deadline he’d heard them discussing.—

Link wrapped his fingers around the door handle, staring down at the stiff, bandaged digits. As a thief, they’d been one of the most important tools he’d had. They’d been pampered and kept safe from wounds so their sensitivity wouldn’t be degraded. Now tiny cuts slit over them where the gloves didn’t cover. Calluses had developed along the pads. His body seemed to mock him, the sores and aches gaining intensity as he acknowledged his wounds.

—Free-falling, air whistling in his ears. His right arm shrieked pain down his body, the hilt tight in his sweaty grip. The chamber blurred on the edge of his vision, only the Debaneko bright and sharp beneath him in crystalline detail.—

A Triforce decorated the bare back of his left, the triangle on the right glowing fiercely but casting no light. It was curious, he couldn’t help but wonder if he were imagining things. That strange presence resting in the back of his mind until the quiet moments, a familiar comfort and alien all the same to the thief. His mind skittered from the questions that wished to rise once more, not wanting to admit how precariously he was settled on the rim of the break down.

What’m I doin’? Cripes. I… The teen let his forehead rest against the wood door, rubbing it gently and listening to his bangs grind against the barrier. His eyes closed, confused and unsure. I shouldn’ be doin’ any of this. I should be sleeping in Kakariko…or filchin’. So many things coulda went wrong…did go wrong.

—Blood scalded his skin, the sound of ripping meat almost as loud as the heavy breathing in the teen’s ears. Both hands were wrapped about the hilt, ensuring it didn’t leave his grip during the wild slashes. There was no pattern, thoughts or rhythm. The body fluid painted his face, clumped his hair and got in his mouth. It was weighty and thick on his tongue, the coppery tang tainted by herbs and spices foreign.—

He tried to stop the images, scents and tastes from overwhelming him, but it was near impossible. They rose, unbidden, from the depths of his psyche. The only fight that had affected him before had been with the wolf. It hadn’t been as violent, in a way. Link could’ve escaped, maybe. There would have been a fuss, so he’d plugged on. His life had been the only one on the line.

The teen swallowed hard, surprised there was still bile left in his stomach to rise to his throat. He wouldn’t be sick. He was a man and be damned if he threw up over a little blood and gore.

—“We didn’t think you’d make it.” Darmon stated with a slight smile, large arms crossed over his chest. Link wondered at the self-control it probably took for the man to not wince away from his sanguine-caked form. The teen wanted to be clean, the soaked armor and gear chaffing his skin.

The other rock men at his back didn’t hide their shock mixed with disgust. A Goron stepped from the group behind him, steel plates scaling down his shoulders, forearms and along the calves like armor.

“Yer confidence in me is inspiring. I think I’ll cry in my pillow.” The thief replied in bad temper, eyes following the new Goron as he strode past with purpose. Reno snickered from his perch. “Why bother lettin’ me go in if ya thought I’d be meeten’ my maker?”

“You seemed so earnest!” Darmon answered with false sincerity. “I could no more beckon the water from stone! Very impractical and pointless, I assure you. Besides…there was that slim chance you’d succeed.”

“How…kind of you. I guess the gamble worked in yer favor no matter tha outcome.” The blonde grumbled darkly, his head pounding fiercely. The sunlight was far too bright and hurt his eyes. He needed water…or liquor…no water. He needed hydration and any alcohol would leave him with more of a headache.

“Don’t be that way, boy!” The Goron behind the thief chided. Link tossed a blue-eyed gaze over his shoulder. The lilac eyes met his, a thick arm wrapped around Corbin’s shoulder. The younger male looked too small standing next to the other, face dark with proof of his embarrassment. “You did a great service!”

Link saw it coming, it was too glaringly obvious for him not to. It would have been so easy to slip to the side and avoid it. It required just only a small burst of energy, really. Yet, the dull-eyed teen could only watch with a kind of torpid fascination until the explosion knocked his breath away and white-hot pain tore through his body. He tumbled into darkness, consciousness lost before his mind could register the event fully.—

The eyes flicked wide, the hand pushing down on the handle and allowing the door to swing open. The algid air pooled through the opening to embrace the tired teen. The Goron on watch turned his massive head, bi-colored eyes easy to discern in the silvery light radiating from the clear night sky.

“Was wondering when you’d step out.” He stated softly, voice like a rolling thunder in the stillness. “Sleep well?”

The teen stepped out, fingers combing through his sleep mussed blonde locks. “Like tha dead. Of course, bein’ damn near tackled from a walking boulder and hugged senseless when I’m already on tha point of collapse does that to a jock.”

The wide mouth stretched into a rueful grin, blunt teeth a pallid sliver in the night. “I would ask for some tolerance concerning that. It’s been a bit since we’ve dealt with the Unshifted…we forget our strength. Probably for the best in any case, you were more like a Redead than human.”

Whatever that is. The teen thought tiredly, turning his eyes toward heavens. “Any trouble in tha mines? How long I been out?”

“About four days. Only Clockwork Unknowns and they’re no issue. We can’t get down to get the bodies, but we set up a shrine for the dead.” They both began to walk, quiet as they navigated the empty streets. Link could sense the life burning beneath his feet. It was strange; as if there was a pulse he’d never been aware of before.

“Are you Shad or Mikau?” Darmon finally asked as they hit the trail that led up to Stalfos Treasure and Trust.

Depends on who ya ask. Link thought, not reacting to the confrontation. The blue eyes flicked to the corner, watching the tall man look him over. “Right now? I’m feeling more like Alkaid.”

The Goron Chief gave him a bland look, showing his lack of amusement. The teen lifted his left shoulder in a shrug.

“Ask a stupid question…” Link started before shaking his head. “What do you think?”

“Viscen sent a bird Unknown up questioning a Mikau’s progress. I assumed he meant you, but there was always a chance for error. It’s an amazing coincidence because I know Viscen spoke of a Mikau after the Stalfos break in.”

Oh, sweet irony. Ya never cease ta make a situation interesting. “So ya think what? That I’m tha filcher?”

“I never said Mikau was the thief.” Darmon pointed out smugly. Link winced and sighed, annoyed that he fell into the trap so easily. “Not many thieves return to the scene of the crime.”

“Not many filchers get inta tha position I’m in.” The teen groused; fists curled in his pockets. “Did Viscen tell ya ta check yer coffers?”

“In not so many words. Your awfully calm for me figuring out your identity.”

“No proof, fer one. All ya got is assumptions and a letter that could go missing. ‘Sides, I kin scramble a-fore ya could assemble a squad.” The blonde replied, sounding worn out. It really was a lot of trouble to go through, but if it’d keep his ass out of Shieka, he’d do it. “It’d be a little ungrateful ta pin me after I saved Corbin. After I escaped, I don’ think I’d be easily persuaded to ever give services again.”

“Got it all figured out?” Darmon asked in a tone the thief couldn’t discern. Another shrug was his answer, but he could see the weariness in the teen’s bearing. He could press the issue, but the young swordsman was correct on the lasting impression it would give. As dubious as he was, the teen was a good ally.

“I take it y’all were thoughtful enough ta clean me.” The lanky boy changed the subject, rubbing his eyes.

“Our healer had a fit when he saw your condition. One thing I’ve learned is to bend to their will.” The Goron admitted, not wanting to think of the condition the teen had been in. He’d seen worse, but it was still disconcerting. The first degree burns, cuts, massive bruising, and corpselike status throughout the cleaning and dressing. “Corbin was a little better. But we are a tad hardier than you.”

“Hmph.” The teen paused on a rise, eyes casting over the small town and scuffing the ground thoughtfully. “Who was tha jock who tried ta squeeze me to a pulp?”

“Mutoh, Corbin’s father.” The rock man stated with an unfettered grin. “He sends his thanks.”

“None needed.” Link replied thoughtlessly.

So humble! I didn’t think you had it in ya, Hero! His inner Monk taunted.

Thanks buys nothing to fill my belly. The mudlark responded, fighting off a yawn. “Kin I keep tha clawshots?”

“The what?” The Goron sounded bewildered for a moment before he made a grunt of sudden understanding. “The Sweet Pluckers! That’s right. Corbin said you’d found an interesting use for them.”

“The Sweet Pluckers…?” The teen cocked a brow, tilting his head till he could see the bi-colored eyes glittering with amusement.

“We use them to grab jewels from high places. We’re too heavy for it to lift, so it plucks them right from the stone.” The grin grew wide and the long-eared human shook his head before turning back to the view.

He listened to the soft click of metal and rustle of leather, curiosity making him turn. The Goron held out a heavy leather sack distended with its contents. The teen took it, opening the mouth to peer in at the insides, a little surprised to see small clay pots with wicks.

“Bombs…pretty effective for their size, that I can guarantee.” The older man stated. “Bag can hold up to fifteen. Come back up for refills.”

“Cripes, that’s a ways to go for some bombs.” Link muttered, a smile stretching on his lips. He hooked it on his “I’ll make good use of them.”

“Tell Viscen that I’ll have someone deliver more explosives once we settle back into the mine.”

“What’s this made out of?” The filcher fingered the leather curiously. It was warm even after being in the chilly air for as long as it had been.

“Dodongo stomach.”

“I didn’t even see any dodongos inside of the mine.” The teen pointed out, brows furrowed as he looked up at the tall Goron.

“The clockwork Unknowns have frightened a good many of them off. They usually stay where there’s plenty of magma since the Unknowns don’t go there.” The rock man passed a purse to the lanky boy next, who hefted it lightly to test its weight before tucking it into his shirt. “A thank you from the rest of the town.”

They lapsed into another silence, staring out over the sleeping town. The teen was tempted to remain lost in his thoughts, comfortable in the presence of the Goron. He could feel dawn approaching, maybe an hour or two off. It was a strange sensation, to be as aware as he suddenly was. He wondered, distantly, if he’d always been that in tune with the world around him and it was the city that blocked it.

“I’m gonna get armed up and head back.” Link finally broke the stillness, watching his fogging breath dissipate. The Goron nodded distractedly and the thief started back down the path.

“Shad.”

The teen paused, glancing back. Darmon hadn’t moved, stalk still against the starlit sky.

“You’re welcome back any time.”

The coltish teen didn’t reply for a moment, considering what wasn’t uttered and the callous words the day he entered the mine. Did Darmon know he was aware they were ready to trap him in that hell pit? He probably feels guilty. It was hard not to like the man and Link didn’t fight the small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
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Link dunked his head in the river, blowing bubbles out of his nose to keep it clear. He pulled up and shook the excess free. The long digits of his left hand dug into the soft bank, water spraying from his lips as he exhaled sharply. Blue eyes locked on the reflection distorted by the drops of water draining from his gold threads. Impatience burned his stomach, frustration a bitter film on his tongue.

It was taking longer to get down the mountain than it was to get up, mostly because every Unknown in the area seemed to home in on the pair. Of course, it wouldn’t be nearly so bad if his right arm had more of a chance to heal. The moblins they encountered weren’t nearly as bad as the clockwork Unknowns. The moblins were hack, slash, done, whereas the clockwork Unknowns involved running until he could figure out a way to beat them one-handed.

—“Mayhap we should send an escort with you.” Darmon suggested at the gates. The darkness was abating slowly, buttery-orange a light blush along the horizon. “You won’t be able to use your shield with your arm in a sling.”

Link paused, considering the possibility as Reno shifted on his shoulder. The thought of returning to town with an escort like a coddled princess dissuaded him. “Nah. I’ll be good. Y’all’ll need most of yer men for clearing the mines, I’m bettin’. I don’ need a babysitter to get down the hill.”

“Hmph.” The Goron didn’t sound convinced, but he wasn’t going to push the issue. It was all up to the teen to be foolhardy.—

I guess I shoulda just taken the offer. What made me turn it down again? Oh, that’s right. I didn’t wanna seem weak. Cripes, you’d think I’d have more sense than that. The blonde chastised silently, giving his injured arm an annoyed glance. Damnit all!

A thudding rustle and excited chirps erupted on either side of the teen. He reacted thoughtlessly, drawing his sword and swinging as he rose. The scaly moblin wielding a spiked club burst from the shrubs, the dirty, shredded clothes hanging from the thin limbs obviously left over from the Shift. Link sawed the blade across the exposed throat, making a mental note to sharpen the rapidly dulling blade soon, crushing what he didn’t rip until the Unknown burst into ash.

Link ducked under the wild swing from the machete totting moblin at his back, swinging the sword up to break the arm. The moblin gave a garbled shrill, makeshift weapon dropping from the no longer mobile hand, the bare feet brushed from the earth with a sweeping motion of the blade at the back of his knees. The Unknown watched the blonde stand, the soiled blade descending towards the exposed, scrawny throat. The small mind tried to comprehend what it’d considered, if the moblin had paused to think, impossible as his world turned to ash.

The lanky teen scowled at the scattered piles in disdain. The last few hours were only going to further grate on the thief’s raw nerves. He just wanted to be done with the whole mess.

“Cain’ ya shtay outta trouble fer a few breathessh?” Reno chided, slipping from the bushes to see the aftermath. The fox had only taken a quick break to find a snack and the older boy had managed to find a fight. The teen huffed, sheathing his sword.

“I swear they’re hunten’ me now!” He complained, holding out his right arm in invitation. The kit didn’t pause, leaping onto the limb and scrambling to the right shoulder. “Damn the Sages! It’s their fault somehow!”

Reno snickered, but didn’t feel obligated to reply.
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Link walked through New Mido, ignoring the open stares he was receiving from the Upper Levelers. It could be his odd form of dress, the green tunic being worse for wear and his belt weighted with strange weapons, or Reno settled on his shoulder like a pet.

If it was the clothing, it had to be the singed, grungy condition that drew the looks instead of the make. Since most clothing had been burned after the plague and Dolstrol, where the majority of textiles were cultivated and crafted, had fallen under the volcano eruption to leave the rest of the country with little choice. The canvas and leather clothing was everyone’s only option, being cheap and easy to make. The simple, rustic clothing made it to where Lower and Upper Levelers difficult to discern.

Then again, no one except for the Provost Guard wore weapons and armor either. Link looked like a mercenary to those he wasn’t acquainted with. The blonde could care less of the reason for the attention, though he’d rather be ignored in turn. He used to excel in blending in with the crowd so it was frustrating to so damned visible. However, his lack of a dwelling made storing his equipment impossible.

“I need a pack to keep all the extra stuff.” He murmured to the fox. The redhead snorted and Link threw an annoyed look at the kit.

“Ya need to rid yershelf of tha dressh.”

“Cripes! Do you know how heavy the cuirass and gauntlets are?” The blonde asked. “They’d be dead weight on my back an’ I’d look damn foolish just wearing them plain. If I had a place that I trusted to store them, maybe I’d just leave everything there, but…I like the Lower Levelers, but they aren’t guard dogs. They’d just sell it all.”

“Like you aren’ gonna.” Reno pointed out blandly.

“Yeah, but I’ll have the rupees. I don’t plan on staying Kakariko as soon as I wrap up business with the Sages. We’ll need all the rupees we can get for when we leave.” Link pointed out, pausing by the tanner’s stall.

“Where will we go?” The fox asked as the blonde considered the cuts of leather displayed. He was secretly pleased that the thief was planning on bringing him along. “Narien and Kakariko are tha only shities.”

“I don’t know…Can I see that pack?” Link asked the grizzly old man. The Tanner obliged as the blonde tested the strength of the leather and the size of the pouch. The pot-bellied man stared at the fox on the teen’s shoulder, who gave the stranger a bare toothed grin. “How much?”

The shop owner fumbled for a moment, but found his tongue quickly. The price was outrageous and Link had to fight to keep his mouth shut, least he roar in outrage. Instead, he pulled at the straps and gave a counter price, far below what the pack’s worth. The tanner’s eyes bugged out in mock horror.

“The straps are poorly sewn on.” Link pointed out, showing the seams that were revealed at a good tug. “I’ve seen better stitching in the Lower Levels.”

“The hide is tanned evenly! Look at the uniform color and thickness!” The merchant crooned, falling into the usual dance of dickering.

Reno didn’t miss the pleased grin that slipped over the blonde’s face as he countered with ease. It was hard to believe the budding swordsman had been a pain in the ass the entire trip back down the mountain.

Always carping at every possible hold up. I’m just glad the jock took out his temper on the Unknowns. The kit mused. I never knew him to play the babe before. I guess Monk was right about me having that ‘calming effect.’ I don’t understand why, but his fussing died when I made an effort.

The rupees were exchanged, both parties feeling cheated and giving proof to a deal well struck. Link walked away, finding a clear alley to settle on his haunches. He put his back against the wall so he could keep watch on the pathway as he stripped.

The violet eyed Unknown watched his companion stow the excess gear. The gauntlets went in first, followed by the clawshots, boomerang, slingshot, and ammo. The fox eyed the crest and bomb bag resting on top as the blonde reached to grab the leather straps to pull the opening closed and securing it with a knot.

“Why not buy a bigger bag fer tha bombz?” The kit asked, flesh paw reaching out to tap the pack lightly. Link frowned, as if confused by the sudden topic. “Sshoo ya kin carry more.”

The azure eyes blinked from under the gold forelock, the teen seeming to contemplate the words. He rubbed his injured arm thoughtfully; eyes unfocused as they roamed the bustling crowd from the quiet alley. The reasoning was not unsound, but he only gave the fox a helpless look.

“Dunno. It’s made for the bombs…sooo…” His voice faded, giving a one-sided shrug that lifted the kit slightly. Link pulled the flap over, buckling it before carefully slinging it over his wounded shoulder. He looked less ridiculous with just a sword and shield on his back. The noise was significantly less, though only the thief had noticed before.

“If ya shay so.” The jaws opened, revealing pearly teeth and a long tongue as Reno panted in a bemused fashion. Link seemed to be acting an increasingly unpredictable fashion when it came to his equipment. Where the blonde had been careless before (according to Viscen), he took time to clean his gear carefully as they’d traveled down the mountain.

The kit continued to ponder in the comfortable silence that followed, trying to pin-point when and why the change had happened. Link had been a carefree thief before, well versed in stealth and awareness. The blonde was fantastic at dissembling, but lacked the ability to lie out right. It was a strange contradiction to the teen’s personality. He’d hated confrontation, but didn’t hesitate to use force when called for. He’d been quiet, with the feeling of something wild roiling just under the surface.

Those feral emotions seemed to have broken free, finding an outlet, but burying something else in the process. Reno was unsure of how the teen first reacted to having to wield a noble’s weapons, seeing how he’d only really used was a lead core baton before. The changes were for the better considering the amount of fighting the teen engaged it, but it made the fox edgy.
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“Link! Oi-ya! Link’s here!” “Link!” “Link! What’djabringus!” “He’s got meat!” “Where ya been?” “I missed you!” “Reno’s wit ‘im! Reno!” “Who didja fight Link!?” “Gimme some! Gimmie some!” “Nice dress!”

The blonde teen grinned at the sudden assault of children of varying ages and Shift. They were wild, but just as loveable as he remembered. He let the paper wrapped haunch fall off his shoulder and scowled at the mudlarks. He kept his gear pack out of the questing finger’s reach. Care he might, but they were still Lower Levelers as was he.

“Oi! Dress or no! It’s wears better’n yer rags!” He teased the gap-toothed boy that could easily be mistaken for a girl with his long black hair. Silver and gold feathers sprouted from his arms in a parody of wings, but far more useless. “Where’z Mistress Kotake?”

“Ya bludy know where I be, mudlark! If yer willen’ ta make yer way, Link…” The crone cackled from her corner of the abandoned train station. She was settled near the windows so the smoke from the cooking fire could drift free. The ticket counter was to her right, benches and tables set up around her. The tabletops were cluttered with knives and vegetables, sprigs of varying seasonings scattered about.

Blind Lori sat to Kotake’s left, chuckling quietly. She was peeling a tuber, hands slow and steady, not taking off more than what was needed. Dirty bandages were wrapped around her head, covering the sightless orbs. Her spider web strands were barely a few finger lengths, floating in the air in delicate wisps.

Mai (Lori’s twin) sat across from them, a pile of mending in her ample lap. Though she held her sight, proof being a pair of clear blue eyes, she’d lost her legs to the plague. She gave enough pause to wave a liver spotted hand in greeting to the odd pair.

It never ceased to amaze the teen how well the survivors had turned the abandoned station into a home. The rows of benches were covered in blankets and barely stuffed cushions he’d brought them. There were tattered rugs thrown over the cement floor, cracked pottery settled about the areas where the children had been settled.

“Back, you silly beggars!” Link ordered, tousling the blonde curls of a gilly no more than seven years. Bloody horns had sprouted on either side of her skull, little Verene’s teeth blocky and brown eyes wide. “If ya wanna eat, ya’d best lemme deliver yer dinner!”

“Link where ya been!” A shaggy haired brunette boy demanded, skipping around the teen’s feet as he handed over the meat to Kotate. Steal layered over Mattes’s throat and ridging over the shoulders under the flimsy shirt. “Ya’ve been gone fer a good spell!”

“Only a week, jock. No time at all.” The blonde replied as he flopped down on one of the rugs to give the old woman a chance to made work with her chopper. He kept a possessive arm around the pack, grinning at the mudlarks. “Been up in Narein.”

“Uuu-waah!” The horned Verene plopped down on Link’s lap, making the teen grunt since she weighed far more than she appeared. The rest of the seven or so children crowded around the thief, tails (for those that had grown them) flicking madly. “What’dja do?”

Reno jumped from the teen’s shoulder and trotted over to settle by the old woman as she quartered up the meat to add to the stew. She glanced at the fox, silver eyes canny. The kit stared back, noting how thin and frail the arms were beneath the billowing clothing. He had no idea how bad off she was, since her clothing gave her a bulky appearance. When parts of the clothing began to bulge suspiciously, he lost curiosity of what lay beneath.

The children were silent as Link began to give an elaborate rendition of their adventures in the volcano. Reno watched with amusement as the teen embellished the amount of danger they actually encountered. Though there had been a fair amount, Reno didn’t remember quite as many clockwork Unknowns attacking at once. The most he remembered was five, but Link made it sound like an army had overrun them.

“How’z yer day, Mish-tresh Kotate?” Reno asked softly, large violet eyes rolling up. The old crone gave a grin, showing off crooked and missing yellow teeth.

“As well as ta be expected, young Reno. Our Link has changed, he has. I never thought a mudlark could be settle on being the mayor’s pet.” She pointed out, carefully adding cubes to the boiling stew.

“No pet.” Reno denied softly, though he feared the Sages were foolish enough to think so. “A bruiser. Where’re tha otherz?”

“Tha old folks, ya mean?” Kotate asked curiously as she carefully stirred the meat into the stew. Mai and Lori laughed softly, amused that Kotate didn’t lump them with the others. “They’re walkin’ ‘bout tha city. Tired of being cooped, they are. Leave us three with tha pack of mudlarks.”

The sixty or so adults that survived the plague and still able-bodied were out of the station, having been drafted for the guard. The thirty-six orphaned children were being divided amongst the adults, as were the twenty-two crippled elderly. New families sprouting from the ruins to make what they could out of the new chances they’d been giving. He’d seen the skeletons of houses behind the stations, proof that the Lower Levels were ready to move out the improvised home.

Everyone did his or her part here. The children did their best to keep the place clean and scavenge about the area for the little things. Those too young to be drafted in the guard, but old enough to work ran messages or did odd jobs for those in the Market. The elderly cooked and mended, giving lessons and monitoring the little ones.

Where the Upper Levels were still salvaging their old lives and weeping, the Lowers have moved past. They grieved; as all humans are want to do after tragedy, but it didn’t hold them back. Forward was the only place for them to go; having no liberty to pause least they lose their lives in carelessness.

Reno nodded and gave a toothy grin, quieting to listen to Link recounting the battle of Debaneko with flourish. He laughed as some of the braver boys demanded to hold Link’s blade and shield. The teen showed an amazing amount of patience as he helped the armor plated boy handle his sword. A brunette girl with a long tail twisting about and downy fur tugged the shield over her back.

Link was giving a small sword lesson when Reno heard approaching footsteps. The tender triangles twitched and the fox considered the cadence that the pair walked. Guards had a particular way of walking, making them easy to pick out. He gave a warning yap, catching the thief’s attention. The blonde frowned, collecting his gear from the curious hands.

The other children who had sensitive hearing had picked up on the stranger’s approach, turning to stare at the entrance to their sanctuary. The lightly armored guards poked their heads in, gesturing to the blonde who was already untangling himself from the hoard. Reno ran over, climbing up the teen’s back to settle on the shoulder.

“Guess we’re being summoned.” Link murmured in disgust. Irritation began to build within him. He wasn’t some lapdog to come when called. If he didn’t feel so damned antsy with the crest in his pack, he would tell them where they could put their summons.

“Mayhap Trish will refill yer poshionz.” Reno pointed out, easing the rising temper. The thief grinned, looking forward to seeing the feisty brunette.
-------------=

Link slipped into Chris’s laboratory, his frustration and indignation melting at the sight of the winged potions woman. She had her back to him, fiddling with something on the table. Her wings were tucked close, but fluttered lightly in what he assumed was the beat of her heart. It gave the image of a sunset hesitant to unfurl, trembling just above the horizon like a shy child.

The blue gaze flicked about the room curiously, surprised and pleased to see that she was alone. He honestly didn’t know if he could take seeing Errol or Monk when he was feeling less than patient. He felt Reno brush past his leg and gave a light clap to announce his entrance, kicking the door shut. Tris turned around, dark eyes warming with pleasure at the sight of the blonde.

“Yer back whole! I feared ya’d lost me fifty rupees and not return!” She teased, propping her fists on the full hips.

“Who’z tha cracked fool that bet against ya?” Link asked, trying to keep his annoyance at bay. It was comforting to know that the older woman had faith in him, but a little annoying that someone else didn’t. His guess would be Monk or Errol, but would be hard pressed to decide was the actual culprit.

Tris waved a hand dismissively, the bandages standing over the poison colored skin. She took a few steps forward, wings extending more for balance. “Ne’er you mind. He’s learnt, I’d hope. How much potion didja use?”

“All of it.” Link admitted with a grimace, settling his pack on the floor and reaching into the pouch to drag out the four empty containers. The brunette frowned in disbelief; unable to help noticing that the teen’s right arm was kept firmly at his side. The blonde knelt down, opening his pack to unload the crest.

“Any moans or gripes?” She asked, not sure if she should ask about the teen’s injuries. It was daunting to see he’d used them all up and still managed to acquire a lasting hurt. The ex-thief had taken far longer than expected to return. Viscen has been particularly worried when the Goron leader hadn’t replied back about Link’s/Mikau’s progress in the scroll they’d received stating that the blonde had actually exterminated the problem.

“Maybe they should be stronger so I can take half a swallow and have the same effect?” Link suggested, frowning as he tried to remember how it felt to drink them. It’d always been in a rush and he didn’t have a chance to properly evaluate them. It’d been one frustrating fight after another, giving him barely pause to wipe his nose let alone think. He set the dead wait on the table and stood, shouldering his pack. “It’ll last longer then.”

“No urges to drink it now? No sweating after a few hours? I’m betting you took it all in one day.”

“I did, but I was out for four days after, so I dunno about sweating or yenin’ fer it.” The teen admitted, hoping it wouldn’t become a habit after he had one of her concoctions. It was bloody inconvenient. He gave a helpless, one-sided shrug. “Sorry, Tris.”

“Don’ worry yer head o’er it. I’m sure ye’ll get a better handle on it next time.” She sounded so sure and gave him a soft smile as she leaned down to stroke the fox’s wedged head affectionately. “Was it that bad?”

“He wuz amazen!” Reno gushed, tongue lolling in pleasure. He tapped her leg with his metal paw. “Killed a nashty Unknown one handed!”

“One handed, huh?” The brown eyes turned up to look at the coltish thief, amused to see a flush touching his high cheeks.

“He’s over tellen’. I dislocated my right arm.” Link grumbled, rubbing his shoulder thoughtlessly. “Where are Houlihan and the other asses?”

“Chris’s playing with a book. Monk and Errol should be returning soon. Viscen should be getting his orders from Chris soon after.” Tris replied; eyeing the green tunic the teen still wore, wondering if he’d grown attached to the clothing. She could see mail peeking from the hem and collar. The gauntlets looked new, their strange hues pretty and making the woman wonder where he’d acquired them. “Ya like yer dress?”

The cobalt eyed boy scowled. “It covers up the armor. I dun have nowhere ta put tha stuff. ‘Sides, it’s comphy.”

She gave a throaty laugh, throwing back her head in amusement. The teen had been quieter in the Lower Levels, contained and pleasant in the way of company. The change seemed to be for the better. Tris liked the outgoing attitude.

“Mah…Tris.”

“Hmm?” She looked up at the teen, straightening. The blonde had his ‘serious’ face on again and it was endearing on features that he’d yet to grow into.

“What do you know about the Sages?” His voice was soft, eyes averted as if he wasn’t sure if he should be asking to begin with.

“Why don’t you tell me what you know?” She asked seriously, dropping the Lower Level cant.

“I know that Ganondorf was a big problem to a land called Hyrule. A Princess sealed herself away to stop the end of the world…or something to that effect.” The blonde replied, leaning against a stool.

“The Sages, as far I understand, were started by her brother after she did. Our primary goal was to keep her from being woken up again. Monitoring the keys and where she slept. Monk and his twin brother guarded the Princess. A lineage thing, I think, on their family.” She paused, scouring her mind. “Hmm. A lot of things were lost. The lore is passed by mouth, so its faded or been altered. Can’t be sure what’s truth.”

Link considered for a moment, blue eyes lost. “What was supposed to happen when the Princess woke up?”

“The end of the world. A little exaggerated, but the Shift was bad enough.” Tris pointed out, crossing her arms over her ample breasts.

The doors slammed open, revealing the Mayor in a white linen shirt and canvas trousers. Though the gear was far from what the man was used to wearing, the grey-eye man looked like he’d always dressed like a bindle. The teen bristled at the smirk the tall man gave him.

“Just the thief I wished to see.” Errol stated as he swept a hand through the green-black bangs thoughtlessly. He seemed a little distracted, dark eyes distant for a moment. His gaze found Tris, who was leaning on the table next to Link, giving her a small smile.

“Oh? His Majesty wishes something of me?” Link replied snidely. “I couldn’t tell. Perhaps you should send an escort to ensure I arrive promptly next time.”

“How comforting to know that you’ll come a-scampering like a good Hero.” Monk droned as he stepped past the taller man, azure eyes like ice.

“I’m no pet.” The blonde snapped, giving the bald man a sharp look.

“Yet you arrive so promptly! Ready to heel!” Monk pointed out, striding past them to settle on a tall stool. He had a superior smirk on the too thin lips.

“It has nothing to do with heeling, I simply missed seeing my reflection on your shiny head.” The thief shot back. The kit barked a surprised laugh from the teen’s feet.

The old man gave a nasty sneer, signaling the blonde’s victory. Link smirked, but it died quickly when Errol opened his mouth.

“We have a job for you, thief.” The Mayor interrupted the gloating, grey eyes glittering with barely contained amusement at their bickering. That spelled nothing good for the blonde, seeing how he could sense a general dislike from the older man. Link assumed it was because he’d robbed the older man’s parents and saw him responsible for the Shift.

The reasoning wasn’t far off for the dislike Errol had for the thief, however; it was only the surface.

Link, Shadow Thief of the Wards, was the darling of the Lower Levelers and impossible to cage.

Errol tried to keep his feelings from interfering. Perhaps if the boy had been more willing to help and didn’t drag his heels at every order the older man could learn to suffer the teen’s company. However, he wasn’t and he did and therefore, Errol couldn’t see past the thief he’d been chasing.

“Not another ‘recon’ mission, I hope.” The blonde ground out, scowling in displeasure.

“No. Not nearly as stirring, I assure you.” The Mayor shrugged, eyes flicking towards Monk, who looked pleased. He knew from the message from Darmon that the task had been far more arduous than planned. He’d felt a twinge of guilt for that at the time. He didn’t like the boy, but he didn’t want him dead. “You’re to scour the shops for an Ocarina. Relatively safe, I assure you.”

“A what?” Disbelief was swelling fast to mingle with frustration. What kinda shit job is that! Do I look like a damn go-for to them!

“An Ocarina. Surly you know what one is?” Monk interrupted, voice condescending. He didn’t fight the guilty satisfaction at watching Link’s face gain a healthy flush of building temper. The silence lengthened for a few more breathes before the Mayor took over.

“There’re a few music shops and re-sell shops in the market. If there’s no luck there, you’ll have to go back up to Narein to check.” The taller man said calmly, wishing the filcher would just do as he was told. If he had time, he’d just do it, but there were too many pressing issues that held precedence.

“Is snorting Angel Dust normal fer the Sages?” Link asked the fox at his feet. His temper roiled beneath his control and he tried his best to divert it. Reno turned his wedged head up, soft triangles twitching.

“In their cupsh?” The boy suggested. The fur trembled along his spine, giving proof to his annoyance with such an order. It was a task for a servant. Link was specialized, as far as the kit was concerned. Now, if they’d wanted the teen to steal it…

“I do believe you have your orders, Hero.” Monk pointed out, brow cocked mockingly. He’d known the boy would rebel and hoped to be the one to put him in his place.

The thief’s blood pounded through his veins and he turned his darkening gaze to the cold blue. Angry retorts of where they could stuff their orders danced just behind his lips. The superior look the bald man gave him only served to feed his ire.

The fox gave the teen a nip on the back of his knee, giving the teen the interruption he needed. He gave a distracted grin to the violet-eyed Unknown before walking towards the door, ignoring both men until he swung a door open.

“I think I’ve filled my part of tha bargain, really. Yer precious bombs will be delivered.” The teen gave a quick wave without bothering to look back. “’S far’s I kin tell, y’all kin go ta hell.”

The blonde stepped out and yanked the door shut.

“Cripes, Monk!” Tris shouted in frustration. She gave the blue-eyed man a dark look, tugging at her auburn curls. If there’d been a way for her to stop things without making them worse, she would have. A semblance of order had to be maintained, though, so the only defiance she could offer with Link in the room had been silence. “It’s hard ‘nough keepin’ tha boy on our side wi’out ya insulting him!”

“The Book said we need an Ocarina.” Monk pointed out in a disinterested voice, barely gracing the busty woman with an acknowledging look.

“He works for us, anyway. He needs to learn to take orders. Viscen can’t do everything.” Errol muttered, rubbing his forehead as he tried to keep his thoughts in order. Things seemed to be spiraling out of his control and there was nothing he could do about it. Relying on others didn’t come easily to the green haired man.

“Wrong!” She barked. Her wings flared, framing her body in an array of dusty gold hues. The winged woman took steady steps towards him, brown eyes flashing. “He helps us! He doesn’ hafta do a damn thing for us! Try to remember that even if he had sworn an oath, it wouldn’t be to you, Monk. It’d be to tha Princess. Last I peeked yer far from royalty. I do question yer manhood, though.”

She brushed past the stunned men to exit in the same fashion as her Lower Level friend.

No one noticed the fox’s hasty exit before the door slammed shut.
-------------=

Link walked around the mansion tiredly, waving a hand in greeting to the guardsmen as he made his rounds. He stopped to share a few words with each of them, trading news from Narein and confirming/dispelling rumors of the condition of the Goron town. It was just the beginning of the evening watch and there were no serious threats to the mansion. In fact, it was laughable that there was even a patrol.

Why should Errol have so many people wasting their time? Is it because I’m back in town? Cripes, he’s a paranoid bastard. Like it would keep me out anyway. Link thought with a smirk, fists deep in his pockets. He’d changed into dark brown breeches and left the white shirt to hang just past his thighs. The sling was with the rest of his gear, tucked in a corner on the roof. Acquiring a room would be his next priority…unless Errol and Monk had their way and sent him off before he could catch his breath.

He mentally mapped out the positions of all the guards, confirming their routes by tagging along like a moonstruck jock. When there was still an hour left for the evening crew, Link made his excuses and headed back up to the third floor where the Mayor’s quarters were. Reno jumped from the banister to his shoulder, claws digging into the sore muscles.

The teen didn’t protest, knowing the trembling fox was just excited over the prospect of seeing his idol in action. It was a little embarrassing, so the thief did his best to ignore the distracting emotions.

“Errol’sh in town.” The fox murmured, voice tight. “Shouldn’ be back too shoon. Are ya shure ya wanna rishk it?”

“Ya said that the book was tha reason ta send me cracked errands.” Link pointed out, eyeing the fox. “What tha hell could a book say ta make them do it? I’m no pet, Reno. I’ma thief. I hafta remind these Sages who they’re dealen’ with.”

Link fingered the picks in his pocket as he walked towards the door. Reno didn’t reply, mostly because he agreed with the coltish blonde.

Reno leaned forward to sniff the lock as the teen settled on his haunches before the door. It was a simple lock and would require only a few breaths to open. The faster, the better considering he’d be out in the open till he managed it. The last thing he needed was to be caught. He knew that the fox would warn him of anyone was getting near, so he let the nosy boy watch as he made short work of both locks. He slipped in silently, closing the door and locking it once more.

The room was just as elaborate and over decorated as he’d imagined it would be. The four-poster ebony bed was against the far wall to the left. It was king sized with a goose-down, silk comforter draped over the mattress (probably feather). Pillows were pilled on against the headboard detailed with ivy and birds. The heavy black drapes were tied to the similarly etched beams. Black velvet shaded all of the mirrors, a huge clothes press in the back corner of the room. The floors were covered with plush rugs of muted designs. Bookcases lined the walls, family portraits in heavy gold frames taking up the space between them.

A fireplace was to the far right, overstuffed dark leather chairs framing the marble mantle. Wood was settled in a cradle opposite to the fire pokers. Glass figures of various beasts mounted the mantle in lieu of more paintings. The glass doors leading to the terrace were ahead, giving a perfect view of the Capital building the Crow Bait Lake it resided in.

The thief ignored the rest of the room, walking towards the bed and kneeling on the soft carpet. He ran his hands under the pillows; the fox jumping to the clear bed stand to watch with interest. The blonde carefully felt over the comforter before proceeding to dive between the feather mattress and the box spring. A quick glance under the bed and pulling open the drawers in the mango wood bed stand the kit settled on.

Link shut them and paced to the bookcases, running his fingers along the spines of the books and taking in the heady scent of pine emitting from the wood. He checked in the seat cushions and around the mantle, his movements deft and practiced. Reno felt some pride to notice that anything the thief touched was left looking undisturbed.

The filcher gave the chest at the foot of the bed a curious look, deciding that he’d wait till he’d exhausted all other options before looking inside. He stepped up to the clothes press, opening it slowly to avoid noise. He dove his arms into the clothing, feeling along the bottom. Growing more frustrated, he pulled open the drawers. His brows jumped to his hairline mildly amused at the sight of the man’s loincloths.

“He has…little Triforces on them…” He muttered, pulling up the garments and smirking. The grey-eyed man was a little more obsessed than the teen had first thought. He carefully riffled through the rest of the curiously decorated under things before his fingers brushed a hard bundle. He extracted it gently and rearranged the clothing to the way it’d appeared before he’d begun searching. “Goal.”

He placed the cloth-covered bundle in his lap, tugging the string free to uncover a leather tome. The clasp was copper-green, the keyhole warped from one too many picking it open. The band that would hold the cover closed missing completely. There were no letters but a crest that similar to the one he’d seen on the armor he’d first fought. The black spread eagle pressed deep into the cover, but there was a Triforce cupped in the spread appendages. He drew his bandaged fingertips over the symbol, a curious feeling teasing his mind.

“Shomeone’z comin’.” Reno murmured, surprising the teen. He hadn’t even heard the fox approach. He nodded in acknowledgement and pushed the drawer closed, swinging the doors to shut them quietly. He tucked in his shirt as he stood, storing the surprisingly light book inside of the pouch.

The filcher unlocked the glass doors, opening them enough to allow them exit and shutting them. The lanky teen knelt, locking the door using his picks. Reno clambered onto his shoulder as he grabbed the rope he’d left hanging from the roof. Link jumped, shimmying up the rope in short order and dragging his still sore body over the edge of the roof.

His right shoulder protested and he clutched it, trying to hold in angry curses. He would have remained in that position, but an impatient Reno urged him to move. The teen pulled up the rope and coiling it, slinging it over his good shoulder, the thief grumbling at the fox’s impatience.

If Link cared about being caught, the mudlark would have went outside the city to read the tome. He planned on returning the book, knowing there wasn’t much value in something that no one could understand. Since it wasn’t a pressing issue, the teen settled on the roof, leaning against the spire. The kit sniffed the book, sneezing at the musty smell tickling his nose. The blonde opened the thick cover, thumbing through the pages.

“This is like a journal.” Link murmured, brow furrowed as his cobalt gaze flicked over the page he’d stopped on thoughtlessly. The words made sense, though the teen had no clue why since he had no idea what language it was in. His fingers traced over the doodles in the margins of the page between untidy scrawls. A girl with long hair was being crushed with boulders in one. Another was a crowned demon with wild eyes.

“Ya undershtand thish messh?” The fox asked incredulously as the teen grunted an affirmative. “What’z it shay?” Reno batted at the book with his flesh leg, not understanding the strange symbols scrawled across the pages. Not that the mudlark ever learned to read, but he could tell that it looked nothing like Common. Link could, which was a rarity for the Lower Levels.

“Ya want me to read the whole thing?” The thief asked as he flipped the pages until he hit a page he could understand. The fox wuffed the affirmative and the teen sighed. “Cripes. Fine.

Today my darling horror of a sibling demanded I take her to visit the whelp of a hero. How a fifteen year old that has not even lain with a woman foiled the Gerudo Lord’s plans is beyond my twenty years of experience. Nayru, grant me wisdom and patience to withstand the trails that have been set before me. How do you explain to a headstrong Princess that the world does not revolve to her whim?

Nay, the only one who jumps at her command is her young knight.

If I dare had time to ponder, I do believe I would come to the conclusion of budding love between the two. Yet, it cannot be. Their paths are etched in stone too set for even my sister’s thick skull. A hard road has been traveled, but it ends not here.
The young lad will find Knighthood very much in league with his talents and it will further separate them. The dear Princess will find her life bond to another for politics.

Farore, allow not for my courage to leave me, for I fear that it will be to the Dessert Lord whose rebellion we have just laid to rest. The irony is sweet and bitter, for the Southern Border needs to be fortified…

Link faded, glancing down the rest of the page and the two that followed. He frowned, ignoring the fox that shifted anxiously on his shoulder. Clearing his throat, Link leaned his head back and stared at the various sketches as he tried to sort out what he managed to skim through.

“It goes on inta political jargon. They were havin’ issues with-a couple-a countries testing their military power. It doesn’ talk ‘bout his plans. Just complaints an’ a li’l of what’s been tried. After that he just starts bleatin’ ‘bout tha harvest.” The blonde muttered, squinting at the scribbles. They seemed to be more a whim than the carefully inked letters. He turned the book sideways, lips moving as he read it silently. “Hoo-ra…what’s this?

“Fleeing the havoc that grips the plains/innocents find shelter in the shadow of ruins/trapped in the midst of what greed hath wrought/the Dark King’s siege to break/The hero dives into the fray.”

“Well, that wuz pretty pointless. Poetry?” The teen muttered. “What tha hell does it mean? Is this jibberish what makes them decide what I’ll do?”

Reno sniffed the page as the thief leaned back against the spire, brows creased in thought. “What about tha otha pagez?” The fox prompted, flesh paw patting against the book.

The blue eyes blinked and focused back on the book. “Ah, right.” He flipped through the yellow pages; frown deepening when he realized that he couldn’t make sense of what followed. He thumbed back; slightly comforted that he could read the preceding pages. “I can’t get anything after, which is weird.”

The thief propped his elbow on his knee, cupping his chin while he held the book in front of him between two fingers in disgust. Reno huffed in mild agitation, jumping from the teen’s shoulder to pace the roof.

“Where do ya think tha book talked about?”

“Hell, I dunno. It probably doesn’t even mean anythin’ about now, shorty.” The long-eared boy pointed out.

“But Houlihan an’ Monk sheemed ta think shooo. Tha’sh why they shent ya ta tha mountain an’ graveyard.”

The blue eyes focused on the kit, moonlight catching on his metallic bits. “Do ya remember what they said?”

“Hmmm…?” the fox settled onto his haunches, head tilted towards the dark sky as if to cry to the swollen moon. The violet eyes shut and he ground his teeth thoughtfully. “Should be in tha book, Link.”

The teen flapped a hand in annoyance and flipped back through the pages. It was difficult to sift through the random bits that had nothing to do with what he was looking for. Side notes of things to bring up with the king later, more gruesome deaths depicted of his royal sister.

“Unseen wind of plague shrieks/mourning wails and the stench of carnage/diving into depths where sickness spills/The hero fighting for lives/the cost high, but the cure is saved.” Link frowned, unimpressed. “Breaking through the surface of the world’s flesh/silence of life swallowed by death/to subdue the earth’s terrible rage/deny power its reign.

“Cripes. How did they get graveyard from that? What was the cost?” The thief mused aloud. Reno didn’t answer at first, licking his chops as his soft triangles flicked restlessly.

“‘Where sickness spills.’ Houlihan remembered tha’ tha water treatment plant wuz behind tha graveyard. They dishcovered tha’ tha enteranssse hadn’ faired the Shhiffft and knew tha’ ya could get there through tha cave.” Another pause and the kit gave a strange shrug, mostly involving lifting his left paw to jab his shoulder into the air. “No one knowsh tha price.”

“Tha other one?”

“I guess the answer wouldn’t be so obvious to a mudlark.” The pair jerked around, only mildly surprised to see Errol scowling darkly at them. It angered the man to know his privacy had been compromised. “Return the Book, thief.”

Link stared for a moment, lips in a flat line. He stood with a grunt, eyes darkening as the corners of his mouth turned downwards. Agitation burning in his chest, waving the leather bound tome carelessly. It was disconcerting to the see the Mayor standing on the roof. Not that he was worried that Errol could d anything. It was just out of character. Why would he come up when he could just send someone up? “You wanna know the next one or are ya just gonna pull an errand from yer asses ta send me after while you piddle around trying to decipher this?”

“You would have me believe that you understood a scrape of what you saw in that Book.” The Mayor stated with a skeptical tone. He was more irritated at himself for underestimating the tiresome thief. He should have probably sent the guards up the fetch the teen, but he didn’t know what the teen would do to the Book. What if the mudlark threw it in the lake just to be spiteful?

The teen was honestly surprised that the words were embedded in his mind, teasing him with their tincture of familiarity. The words slipped from his lips in a dialect like the one uttered by his Gramps and the Princess. Silky and sweet, the phrase was hauntingly familiar in the singsong tongue.

Errol didn’t reply, his face not twitching at the strange lilting language, having heard Chris speak it often. There was a certain amount of surprise to hear it from the troublesome youth and his mind refused to formulate a rebuttal.

“Fleeing the havoc that grips the plains/innocents find shelter in the shadow of ruins/trapped in the midst of what greed hath wrought/the Dark King’s siege to break/The here dives into the fray.” Monk translated easily as he carefully picked his path over the peak to join the three already by the spire. “Didn’t know you had it in you, Hero.”

I didn’t know, either. The thief thought, ignoring the hated nickname in his confusion. Monk’s brows lifted, waiting for something, but the blonde waved his hand as it to scatter the troubling thoughts. “Ya mean you’re deciding my quest off a buncha stupid limericks?! Cripes. It’s any wonder that I manage to do anything right when you can’t even give me good details. I just thought y’all were being asses in general.”

“How utterly typical of you to assume something so low brow.” Monk drawled, stepping close to pluck the book from the teen’s hands. “However, you have earned your super. There’s a good Hero.”

Resentment burned inside the blonde, but he only crossed his arms over his chest. There wasn’t much point in trying to get the journal back. He couldn’t move forward in it and not much point in back reading. “Good to know someone is. I’d like to know what ya give to yer little group that makes them so keen ta keep ya around? A pet, mayhap?”

“How astute of you to ask. Perchance I’ll share my purpose in the future.” Monk droned, handing the journal to Errol over his shoulder. The azure eyes seemed the shimmer in the darkness, knowing that there wasn’t much of a follow-up to such a remark.

“Perchance after I shove this ridiculously long boot up yer wrinkled old ass, you bald, cunt-stain.” Link snapped, patience finally gone. He trembled with barely suppressed rage, the need to retaliate physically almost painful. The thief turned and strode towards the trellis, his mind blank with the intensity of his emotions. The only clear objective was to remove himself from the situation before he did something there was a possibility he should – but wouldn’t – regret.
------------=

Morning light poured in through the open window, falling over the blonde’s face. The eyes squeezed tightly in a stubborn effort to remain asleep. Link finally conceded to the sun’s call and lifted the heavy lids from azure orbs. His body protested that miniscule movement.

I’ll never sit on a horse again if I can help it. The teen thought as he groaned. His blonde hair was wild from sleep, eyelids still heavy and resisted opening. Pain shot through the insides of his thighs when he shifted, making him cease moving immediately. Damn Viscen! Damn Chris! Damn Malons! I shoulda never gone back to Houlihan!

Link massaged his sore muscles lightly, tears of pain springing to his eyes. The only thing the thief could be thankful for was that he’d managed to find a place that he could be alone. It was an old watch post spire settled on top of the East Wing of the mansion, facing the lake. The trapdoor that had lead from the mansion had long since been blocked and only entrance was through the windows.

The blonde had moved in after the riding lesson. The room only had a pallet, blankets, a few pillows and his gear settled against the wall. It was nothing spectacular, but enough for the teen to be pleased. Since he had nothing worth stealing, he didn’t fear a break in. The gear he had would be easily tracked down, as gaudy and unique as they were. Viscen still had the sword, which would have been the best thing to sell as non-descript as it was.

—Viscen stared down at the sulking blonde. He’d arrived at the abandoned station to bring the teen back to Chris the morning after the thief had taken the books. Reno had warned the boy that the guardsman was approaching, so he’d met him outside so the Lower Levelers wouldn’t get upset. Some things, like dislike for the law, died hard.

“It’s yer fault, ya know.” The auburn haired man pointed out, dragging his hands through the shoulder length locks. “Had to go prove that you’ve something between yer ears.”

“I gave back yer damn sword! What else do ya want from me? I’m not gonna be yer bag boy!” Link all but whined. That strange presence was in the back of his mind, persistent and nagging, made increasingly cranky. What really upset the thief was that he knew that as long as he was aware of the Triforce within him, he wouldn’t be able to just walk away.

The urgency to go back to the Sages was already receding as he gave it consideration, leaving him feeling drained. How could one want to stubbornly avoid the group but yearn to rejoin them? He detested Monk and Errol with feelings so much stronger than he’d ever thought he was capable of. Mostly because it was exhausting and the teen was far too lazy to exert that much energy. It was far easier to just avoid those who inspired those kinds of taxing emotions.

“How wuz I to know I could read that damned book?” Link groused. It pissed him off more when the black eyes seemed to shimmer with amusement in the dim light.

“Chris’s deciphered the next bit ya kindly gave to Monk.” The watchman replied, propping a gloved fist on his hip. “Just come back an’ listen a bit.”—

If Link could help it, he’d never listen to another damn thing the Sages had to say again. He propped his torso up on his elbows, giving the offending legs a dark look. Viscen had him taking the horse, a feisty Malon named Beebe, through its gaits for hours. Getting the stubborn nag to listen to him had been the worst part.

The guardsman was a slave driver, roaring like an injured dodongo to not saw the reins, keep the elbows up, back straight and butt in the saddle. Link never had an affinity for beasts to begin with and the horse was especially troublesome.

—The sorrel beast was long legged, a blaze over the wide forehead to soft muzzle. The face was sculpted, looking delicate. The blue eyes wide and bright with malice at the boy who would dare think to mount her. Link ignored the look, sticking his foot in the stirrup and grabbing onto the gullet and cantle, pulling his body up.

He stood there for a moment, unsure what his next move should be. The mare shifted a little and the teen took the hint, swinging his leg over the seat.

She bucked immediately, throwing him before he could even find his seat. The audience of guards guffawed from the corral’s fence. Link scowled, sitting up and wincing at his tender backside. He could tell that their friendship was not going to be a pleasant one. Beebe gave an impatient snort that sounded suspiciously like agreement.

“What’re ya waiting fer, boy! Mount up!” Viscen ordered.—

It took some time to work life back into his aching thighs, knowing that if he didn’t report to Viscen soon, the guardsman would come looking for him. That was the last thing he needed in the morning was the black-eyed man trying to get a peek of him naked.
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Two Weeks Later—

Link swung the blade down, destroying the third target in the maze. Beebe, resigned to her fate, responded to the urging knees and twisted around so the teen could take down another ‘foe.’ The guards along the sidelines cheered, though the blonde paid them no heed. All his concentration was on the flesh between his legs and the next target.

“He’s better than that Altair jock.” Tris murmured behind Viscen, who kept his black eyes on the teen and his progress. He spared her a glance, a smile twitching on his lips.

“That man couldn’ hit a target right at his knee if his horse was standing still.” The older man agreed. His eyes slid back to the blonde, face falling back into serious lines. “I just hope it’ll be enough.”

“Aren’ ya bein’ a little hard on him? Ya’ve been at it for nearly two weeks.” She pointed out quietly, resting her crossed arms on a post. Her wings were spread, soaking up the sun greedily. A few heads turned, giving the woman catcalls in greeting. She answered with a lush smile, brown eyes sparkling. “Only so much ya kin do.”

“There’s talent.” Viscen countered, but sighed. He knew he was being rough on the lad. The watchman was afraid that if he didn’t push, the teen wouldn’t be ready. “Just no love. Like giving me a woman…I kin go through the actions, but I wouldn’t be happy.”

Tris gave a soft chuckle at that, enjoying the taller man’s company. “How distressing for you.” She teased; looking back at another crack announced the ‘death’ of another target. “When will you leave?”

“The day after tomorrow. I’ll take him past the castle and see if Chris’s guess on what the crests are for hold any ground. Then I’ll head north while our Mikau does his quest.”

“Don’t you find it odd that the mudlark has all this on his shoulders?” Tris asked curiously, resting her chin on a bandaged palm to look at the man’s face. Viscen was silent, jaw flexing for a moment before he answered.

“If he’d died before now, then yeah. I would.” He sighed; breath barely making a sound as it rushed past his barely parted lips. “I’ve ne’er seen Chris so excited as he was to learn that Mikau could read that book. I had to restrain him before he could turn tha lad inta an experiment. That damn Monk didn’ help a lick.”

“How did you calm him?”

“I pointed out that Mikau could gather him more goodies in the field than in his lab.” He chuckled lightly along with the Lower Levels woman before lapsing into silence only broken by the careful thuds of hooves and harsh breathing. “That lad has a nasty mouth. I don’t think I’ve been called so many foul things in a row. I think he woulda taken my head off by now if I’d given him half a chance. How’s Errol?”

“Still stressed.” She admitted, voice tired. She liked the young man on his good days, but the pressure was starting to show. So much pride and usually good-natured, but trying to rely on others was difficult for him. “He’ll learn to delegate.”

Reno said nothing, listening only a few feet away. His tails twitched listlessly, triangles flicking from the horse to the Sages. There was a lot going on under the surface, he was sure. Yet, there was no way to know who had all the answers. Everyone seemed to hold only a piece and they guarded it closely.

No matter his worship for the blonde thief, he’d wondered why it was so important for him to complete the tasks where there were those more capable. There were those with more experience and, honestly, more trustworthy than the still growing teen.

The Sages had fixed him, but they wouldn’t have bothered if it hadn’t been for Link. The fox couldn’t see them doing anything that didn’t get them anything in return. They demanded so much from Link, but gave little in return.

He wasn’t even sure about the goal of the group of men they were working for. Was it to settle the general chaos of the Post Shift country? Was it just to save the Princess? They didn’t seem so noble. Viscen had been the only one to ask over the condition of Narein and general health of the inhabitants.

There were too many questions and no answers forthcoming. The fox found it aggravating and could only guess how Link felt about it.

Worry ate at the fox’s chest, violet eyes hard as he watched the teen put the nag through its paces after destroying the last ‘foe.’ I hafta figure this out before too long. Link’s not a good pawn. He’s more likely to turn on Monk if he keeps tryin’ to treat him like slag.
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Omake!
Link woke up in the middle of the night, vaguely concerned on where exactly he was. He could hear gentle, rhythmic breathing in the same room from one other person. There was the hush of the night just outside the walls. The air was cool, a glorious absence of sulfur confirming he was nowhere near the volcano depths. The area where he lay was far too soft to be his pallet at Kakariko. The thief sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the weight just on the left side of the blankets. His back complained, muscles stiff, sore and bruised. His right arm was tucked in a sling and it took him a moment to remember he’d dislocated it.

The azure eyes peered through the gloom, slowly adjusting enough for him to make out sparse furnishings. He was, to his shock, in a real four-poster bed. A shuttered window was over his head, a cool draft slipping through to caress his burned, raw skin lovingly.

“Oh, you’re awake.” A drowsy voice interrupted the quiet and Link felt a chill run up his spine as he recognized it. He froze, not daring to move as the mattress shifted far more than it needed for a fox. “I was wondering when you would…”

Viscen’s voice purred in the darkness and Link went cold. He began to flush as his head turned slowly towards the guardsman, praying he was asleep. The black-eyed man gave a grin and reached out. Link screamed bloody murder, falling over himself to get out of the bed.

“A WHORE IN CHURCH! YOU’RE NAKED!” The teen screeched, tangled in the sheets as he tore out of the room. Viscen watched the thief leave, amusement on his narrow features.

“Darmon was right. It was too much of a joke for the poor boy.” The brunette flopped back into bed, sighing in content.
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A/N: I took forever and would you believe I only got this chapter written? I know. I’m a bad person. I spent most of my time on the journal, though. I actually put my video games on hold for this. -.- Except Zelda. Lol

However! I’ve gotten a little bit to look forward to in every chapter! Something to work towards, yay! Sadly, the first part and the Book part were the ones I was looking forward to most in this chapter...which why it took so long to get the rest of it written. Forgive me!

This chapter has a very rushed, unfinished feeling to it, but I’m not sure how to fix it. Sadly, there’s not much to say about the Sages when I think on it. It’s all about the Book. Heh. They’re just caretakers. The lack of action really chaffs me. The next chapter should relieve that! ^-^