Before there was Light, Part Three

Trying to keep up with Lee's breakneck speed! Here is part three in the story of Impa's growth and development...


Had Defaid and I been completely safe, we would have spent the night with the Tacka Clan on Death Mountain’s smoldering peek, but we had enjoyed our day of freedom enough and decided to head back. Sometimes I blame myself for not been there for my clan, but in the end, I guess there was nothing we could have done in any event, but doubt always fills my mind over this.

Defaid was obviously back to his old self after our talk. The rest of the way up the mountain had been the normal delightful torture of dealing with his teasing, laughing, and various other shenanigans.
“Mistress Impa, I was wondering…” he quipped as we neared our clan’s training grounds, “is it possible to sneak through our brothers and masters into the common hall without been noticed?”
“No Defaid,” I began, giving him a sidelong glance, “you are NOT allowed to try and break into our own home.”
“You, Mistress Impa,” he replied with great emphasis and a mock pout, “are no fun…”
“I have been called worse,” I responded, hoping my smirk does not show up in the dark.
Defaid made to respond, but stopped suddenly. His body became slightly tenser, and he began to look about more alertly.
“What is it?” I asked, beginning to follow his eyes around the craggy training grounds.
“Just a feeling,” he replied, still obviously on edge, “like not all is right… shouldn’t there be at least SOMEONE out here practicing night fighting?”
He did not need to offer this explanation, for I was getting the same feeling as well. Nodding to him, we both disappeared into the darkness covering the practice field and began to sneak closer to the cave where the clan must be.

Stealth, as any Shiekah knows, can actually be harder to achieve at night then during the day. In the day there are shadows that conceal and distort, but the night is without shadow and people are more alert, looking for intruders. Of course, the first thing most non-trained people will do is make a fire, restoring shadow and adding the attacker rather then themselves. That is why the Shiekah embrace the darkness, forcing themselves to operate in the world of little light. But this time there is no fire casting concealing light, and so Defaid and I had to move quickly and silently, praying we went undetected. For most Shiekah our age, the task would have been impossible, but in all modesty I knew Remha’s evaluation was correct; Defaid and I were no ordinary Shiekah. Each of us had skill well beyond our years.

We were about twenty yard from the cave when I caught the first whiff of smoke. On one level this should not seem surprising. It was winter, and even a Shiekah requires heat in the coldest of night. But this was most certainly NOT the coldest of nights, and as I have said, Shiekah do not build fires often, and always find a way to disguise them so as to prevent the smoke from giving away their position. I could not help but think this was not a Shiekah fire. Defaid, a few feet to my right, must have also gotten this impression, for he melded back into the darkness with extra caution. We slowly crawled closer to the cave, and as we neared it, I was able to see a dull orange glow emanating from the cave entrance. I could see two figures darkly silhouetted against the glow, their black shadows sharply defined.

“Assassins,” a tallish muscular scoffed, hands on his hips in an arrogant manner, “apparently it takes a good thief to kill now a days.”
“Perhaps,” a shapely female figure with a waist-length ponytail responded. Even in the orange light, the hair of both figures had a reddish sheen.
“The Shiekah are the real power behind the vaunted Hylian military… if we whittle them away, the forces of the ‘empire’ will be as cows taken to slaughter,” the man went on, turning back to the fire, “see to it the Moblins are blamed…”
“Of course, mightiness.”

I glanced over to Defaid, but he shook his head. He apparently had no more an idea of who these strange attackers were then I did. We edged forward, blending into the shadows cast by fire. I stopped as the man spoke again, hoping for a clue about his origins.
“How many did we kill tonight?”
“Four score by the spear, and an additional twenty burned in the cave.”
I was barely able to keep from crying in alarm. That was the entire clan. All of them had been at the cave sans Defaid and I, so the possibility of the woman speaking true was very high.
“Of the Guard, nearly seventy spear were slain, and an additional-”
“I do not care about how many of your precious Guard were lost Naburoo… if it were not for my power, you would have failed anyway.”
“I told you we were not ready to face opponents as formidable as the Shiekah, sire… if I had my way-”
“If you had your way we would be waiting to face the Shiekah united as an army. Better to lose a few worthless guards from that hovel of a fortress you command then bargain with my kingdom.”
“And the women and children that were killed tonight?” I could have sworn I saw the light glisten off a tear, and her voice was raw with anger, “you mentioned nothing about that when you called my Guard onto this mission; you said this was a training camp for warriors!”
“It is, or rather was…” the man replied, turning to walk away, “don’t concern yourself with petty facts like age, Naburoo; all of them would have ended up killing my people.”
“Your father would not endorse this, Gannondorf, and you know that!”
“My father,” he retorted, turning to look over his broad shoulder, “will soon be dead. I will rule the nation, not his memory, and you would do well to remember that.”
He stalked off into the shadows leaving the woman in front of the glowing cave entrance alone.

I turned to look at Defaid, but he was not where I had left him; and then a sudden rush of movement caught my eye. The next thing I knew, Defaid was standing in front of the cave, executing a perfect choke-hold on the remaining woman. I darted after him, praying he had thought to check for remaining warriors.
“Defaid!” I hissed, “what are you doing? There might be others!”
“Already checked…” he replied, spinning the woman around, pressing her back against the rough cliff wall our cave had been dug into, and clamping a hand over her mouth, “just this little lady, and I’m sure she has lots to say…”

In the dull sheen of the fire light I could just distinguish the pointed odd-looking features of the woman, and though I didn’t know it, I was looking at my first Greudo. She looked to be about my age, and at the time I had no way of knowing that these strange desert people age at nearly half the rate of normal Hylians and Shiekah. One thing I learned right away was that the snapping green eyes of a Greudo can exude hate like no other. She glared back and forth from me to Defaid, shooting arrows of pure hatred at us.
“Shhh,” hissed Defaid, returning her harsh glare, “now, you gonna be a good girl and not scream too loud? I can break your neck very easily, so please don’t make me…”
The green eyes were still livid, but she nodded slowly.

“No one to yell to anyway,” she growled as soon as Defaid took his hand away, “that lying son of sand probably took every single member of my Guard that wasn’t butchered around this cave with him to cover his back…”
“Why did you come here?” I asked stepping in threateningly. Her green eyes glowered back up at me, and I was finally able to get a better look at her. Her red hair was bound up in some strange top-knot before falling down to her waist. Her head only came to about Defaid’s shoulders, and she wore black silky looking clothing that ran from her feet up to her neck, long sleeves ending in fingerless gloves. I remember the clothing was as tight as a second skin, and I actually felt slightly ashamed of the way I looked. I had always thought I was decent looking, but this girl had beauty that was beyond the Shiekah.
“I came here because that upstart Gannondorf lied to his father and said this was the training ground of an army the Hylian king was sending to invade our land. I saw warriors training, but I did not see it was a residence of young and old as well until it was too late,” once again I thought I saw a tear in the young woman’s eye. Defaid must have seen it too, because I remember he eased his grip slightly, lightening his hold on her.
“Who are you, and who’s this Gannondorf fellow?”
“I’m Naburoo, leader of the Guard… we protect Greudo Fortress from would be tyrants… I just never thought one would come from within our own race.”
“That would be our friend Gannondorf I take it,” Defaid replied, obviously picking up on the tension that was evident.
“If he were only half the man his father was I would have no problem with his succession to our throne… but he is not. He holds the Thieves’ Code in distain, often stealing from women, children, or the less fortunate. However, our law does dictate that the Greudo male should be king.”
“You mean, there’s only one male in the entire Greudo race?” Defaid asked, surprise plain on his voice. Naburoo sighed, as though this were a subject she had explained many times and was tired of giving.
“Yes… one male born every hundred years. By law our king.”
“Um, do all Greudo women, uh, look like you?” Defaid pried further, giving a veiled glance over Naburoo’s extremely, shall I say ample, figure. I nearly killed him right there.
“Naburoo,” I interjected, giving Defaid a look that was meant to portray my growing frustration with him, “are you saying that the Greudo king sent you here to kill us?”
“What? Oh, you mean Gannondorf… he WISHES that, but he’s not king yet, despite how he carries himself. No, Gannondorf’s father Ranidorf still lives, and therefore still reins. Would that he never die!”

I remember the hate in her eyes when talking about Gannondorf was ten times as strong as the obvious disgust of us.
“So I take it this Ranidorf guy wouldn’t take kindly to killing children like this?” Defaid asked. He had ceased pinning her against the wall, but kept a firm grasp on her right wrists.
“Never!” Naburoo replied, shaking her head vigorously, “we hate the Hylians and their cursed lust for power, but the Thieves’ Code would never allow for such butchery. We may not bow to the oppressor like you pathetic Shiekah, but we are no murders… at least not all of us…” she finished wish a disgusted hiss, eyes glaring at where Gannondorf’s figure had retreated into the darkness.
“Well?” Defaid asked, turning to me, “got any ideas?”
“We can’t just kill her,” I replied, frowning slightly, “but we don’t have time to deal with her… we need to look for possible survivors.”
Defaid nodded and released Naburoo. She flexed it experimentally, then gave us a rather sardonic smirk.
“You won’t find any… like I said, I was too late to stop what happened. But for what it’s worth, I owe you two one. I’m not without influence in the Greudo kingdom... so if you ever need anything with the desert let me know!”
With that she turned and melted into the shadows with grace and speed that any Shiekah would have been proud to claim.

This was my first meeting with the Queen of the Thieves, but the Goddesses know it would not be my last.

*******

“Happy Birthday, young princess…”
“Thank you, minister.”
“You’re becoming quite the lady Princess Zelda.”
“I hope so, Aunty Kistiren.”
“Well, congratulations princess.”
Zelda is holding up very well under the barrage of ‘well-wishers’ about ninety percent of whom she has never met. I will have to remember and give some kind of treat for her actions tonight.

“Lords and Ladies,” my head turns towards the large doors leading to the Great Hall as the herald calls out new arrivals, “King Zola, and his daughter Princess Rutto.”
Zelda sends a quick smile up at me. While I have no great love for the Zora, I must admit I hope Princess Rutto will be a good playmate for Zelda; the poor girl has suffered a great deal in silence today…

Zola is an exceedingly old Zora, and as such looks more like a giant manatee with legs then a Hylian. His broad flat face holds a bored, pompous look, and there seems to be little in the way of actual dignity about him. Of course, since Zora people never actually stop growing over their lives, King Zola does stand impressively tall. A good head and shoulder above head and shoulder, King Zola dwarfs everyone in the room. It might be more impressive if her were not so inordinately fat. As his massive sides of blubber sag into the room, a young Zora, about Zelda’s height steps from around him. Princess Rutto looks the same as most Zora her age, though her features are what they would call pretty. Her round, flattish, head is cocked arrogantly to the side, hip thrown out, and I whisper a silent prayer. Rutto does not look like she wants to be here at all, and I think poor Zelda might have yet another dream crushed.

The large Zora king walks, or rather waddles, pompously over.
“Princess Zelda,” he gurgles, his S’s slurring out like Z’s in a traditional Zora accent, “I am sure you are greatly honored by my presence here, and I am also sure you will show great respect by thanking me for attending…”
I remained outwardly passive, but I was ready to rip the arrogant fish’s arms off and beat him to death with them. The very nerve of his attitude was infuriating, but it was even worse for me since I knew how much heartache this whole party was for Zelda. Not only was she not spending the time she wanted so desperately with her father, but now she was forced to endure the prideful Zora king; a pompous would-be ruler of a defeated nation.
“I am glad you were able to come,” Zelda beams, smiling at the smaller Zora, “and you must be Princess Rutto!”
The Zora ‘princess’ snorts in response. Giving an exaggerated yawn of boredom, she turns to the pompous lump of blubber that calls himself her father.
“Father,” she whines, pointing at the long tables, “I want food now… my tummy is growling…”
“We will find our seats soon enough, my dear,” Zola gurgles. He nods once at Zelda, then waddles away bulbous sides quivering in strange contortions. By Din’s Fire, I swear he has to be one of the most revolting things I have ever seen… Rutto turns to follow, muttering what I think is a curse directed at Zelda under her breath. If Shiekah did not so rigorously train in martial discipline, I am sure I would be delivering much needed corporal punishment to the arrogant snot of a princess. No wonder they had fallen to the Hylian Empire; Fiate leaves more nobility and class in his waste-chambers then their entire royal line possesses.

I glance down to Zelda, who is forcing an obviously faked smile. I think I can actually see tears glimmering in the back of her large blue eyes. Poor, poor girl… the day is not exactly going to be one of her better memories. Sometimes I regret my life as a Shiekah; I love her a great deal, but showing a child comfort was not a skill I learned over my darker years. Maybe if Defaid and I had ever had the chance to raise children…

“Lords and Ladies; Duchess Susanne Akinda, and her daughter Jistine…”

I whisper a silent prayer of thanks to every god, goddess, and great fairy I know. I had known that at least Marcus Akinda and his two remaining sons were away on business in Turminnia, and I had feared they might have taken Jistine with them. Ever since the messy business of the young Toran’s kidnapping two years ago, Marcus had kept close tabs on the remaining female contingent of his set of twins, and Jistine rarely was too far out of his sight. I am extremely grateful that, for whatever reason, the duke decided tonight would be a safe event for his daughter to attend. Zelda visibly brightens for the first time since the seemingly endless stream of guests began trooping in. Laughing happily, she waves across the room at Jistine. Normally I would feel compelled to reprimand the less then lady-like action, but right now grace is coming exceptionally easily for me. Jistine darts away from her mother and over to us as soon as they have reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh, Zel!” she nearly squeals, grabbing both of the princess’ small hands in her own, “how do you do! I need to tell you all about my fishing trip with father; it was ever so fun… How has the palace been?”Giggling, Zelda responds, and I leave them to their girlish chatter. Dresses, horses, boys, playful adventures at Lake Hylia… Hylian children certainly talk about different things then I was forced to discuss as a child…

Before there was Light: Part Two

Here is part two... this story builds upon itself regularly, so you might want to brush up on the prior section...

*****

“Masters and Mistresses, Brothers and sisters, terrible events may be afoot…”

Defaid and I were standing near the back of the gathered elders. I was standing straight as a pole, arms crossed, eyes fixed on clan. Nothing was going to escape my notice; at a merger fourteen winters old this was my first clan meeting, and I was determined I would not be treated as a child. Defaid, as usual, did not appear as concerned about his role in the proceedings. He had leaned back against the cave wall, weight on one leg, the other lightly resting on a chair. His half closed eyes were gazing at Remha, looking only for an indication of what his role in the new era would be.

“Moblins have attacked the Tacka Clan. They appeared in unheard of numbers, and were armed with spears, swords, and other implements of war that the Moblins have no knowledge of making.”
There were murmurs at this. Even at my young age and inexperience I knew what this implied.
“No doubt many of you believe this as a sign that the Moblins have picked up a new ally in their ongoing war with us.”
“Filthy treacherous Gordons!” a cry rang out from the younger clan members gathered in front of the table Remha was speaking from.
“We don’t know that,” Remha began, raising a hand for silence.
“Who else?” came another cry, “Who else would want us dead?”
“Lizardmen,” came a reply from another of the brothers, “They hold no effeminacy for us.”
“Lizardmen are no more capable of making weapons then the Moblins!” came the original voice.
The brothers and sisters began to argue amongst themselves. The noise was starting to rise as I turned to look back at Defaid. To my surprise there was a bit of a smirk pulling at his mouth. He saw me looking back to him, and shook his head, a strange sparkle in his eye. I must admit I found it slightly irritating that Defaid did not seem overly concerned with the discussion and debate unfolding. I walked over and pushed the chair away, watching as Defaid slipped to the floor. He glanced up to me, surprise in his large red eyes.
“This is important,” I hissed, too low for others to hear “the least you could do is act like you care.”
“Oh, I care,” Defaid chuckled in reply, as he stood up, loud enough for the Masters and Mistresses who stood at the back of the crowd to hear, “I care enough to not waste time in meaningless speculation. The clan elders are wiser then I could ever hope to be, and I am sure the bickering of the brothers and sisters will bring forth no angles they have not already considered… this isn’t the thing they wanted debated, so I will bide my time until the real issue comes forth.”
“Narue’s wisdom incarnate in flesh!” Mistress Duka said, nodding to Defaid, “how old are you boy?”
“Sixteen summers, and fifteen winters” my companion replied, grinning broadly.
“Insight that reaches far beyond your years,” Mistress Duka sighed, looking back at the squabbling youth in front of Remha.

After the noise had finally subsided a bit, Remha raised his hand again.
“Shiekah are not the only ones the Moblins have attacked. The Gordons, and the Hylians were also attacked. King Thiade of Hyrule has called on the blood oath our ancestors swore. We are summoned once again to serve the Hylian Empire. There will be a war and all the clans are being called into the military… The Shadow People will fight again, and we will war with the Moblins!”

There was a general murmur of assent, but a few whispers could be heard beneath it. The Shiekah Peoples’ connection to the Royal family of Hyrule was something lost in the dim origins of history, but no one would dare to claim it did not exist. In fact, there were supposedly many Shiekah actually living at the palace and around Castle Town. It was long known that the Plain Shiekah had been used as assassins and soldiers by the kings of Hyrule, and some of King Thiade’s war council were Shiekah.

All the same, for the far flung reaches of the Shiekah clans, Hyrule, its kings, its wars, and its citizens, were faraway things, and of no concern to us. Defaid was right; the real debate was about to begin.

*******

“But Impa!” she whines, “I don’t want a tea party! I want a hunting party!”
“Princess, you shall have a tea party and that is final. Despite your wishes to the contrary, you are a princess, and shall act accordingly.”
“But it’s MY 8th Birthday… shouldn’t I be the one who gets to decide what I do on it? I don’t even LIKE tea, and you know it!”
“Princess,” I reply, turning her around perhaps a little too roughly before I begin tying the laces on the back of her white dress, “you need to learn two very important things quickly. First, you may one day regret the hours of palace luxury you squandered; and second, the wish of a princess is worth very little in Hyrule…”
And I pray the Goddesses THAT never changes, I add mentally as I help Zelda pull her purple top over the white dress. Hylian royal clothes are almost as complicated and painful to put on as they are to wear, so I do not begrudge Zelda a little whining; however recently she has become more insistent, and I have never had the patience of Defaid…

As I lead the princess by her hand towards the gardens, I think back over the list of things that have to be accomplished for her tea party. Fortunately for me, only a handful of giggling girls from several of the Hylian royal families were actually invited. Normally Fiate used his daughter’s birthdays to host massive celebrations of his latest diplomatic feats. This was a common enough practice for the leading royal families of the Hylian, Gordon, and Zora nations, so I tried to not hold it against him. For the Shiekah, the day of one’s birth is something of great importance, and dealt with in a much different manner. It was just one more thing I will never understand about Hylians.

I am struggling to keep a fairly close eye on the rambunctious Zelda when Prethius saunters up.
“Mistress Impa,” he begins, a wry grin tugging at his lips, “I bring bad news for both of us.”
I groan inwardly. The Captain of the Place Guard, Prethius is generally correct in assessments of what will and what will not ruin my day.
“What? Did Rauru die?” the old sage had been very ill recently, and his death could spell disaster to my on-going anti-Gannondorf campaign.
“Far worse,” Prethius chuckles, “I bring bad tiding of peace…”
“Oh, please tell me you are joking… That Zora king surely did not swear allegiance three days before the princess’ birthday…”
“Every tenet of the treaty agreed to,” Prethius nods, confirming my worst fears, “you know what this means of course…”
“It means,” I nearly growl, “that Fiate is going to want Princess Zelda’s tea party magically transformed into a celebration of the new peace. A ball for at least every Hylian and probably nearly every Zora royal family, including the Hylians from Turminnia and Guntheria… Add to them the Gordon and Greudo guests… this is going to be one nice party for every member of the palace staff isn’t it?”
“Yeah, the cooks, gardeners, cleaners, not to mention you and I in security, are all going to take it in the nose for Fiate yet again…” Prethius shrugs and turns, “at least we’ll get some Greudo women around… they make for a fun time.”
“For some,” I muter, glancing around locate the princess.
“Hey, I hear lots of them are in to women… you know, like it happens all the time in their culture. You could probably-”
“Prethius, I feel the need to remind you that I was married once,” I cut him off looking around for Zelda in earnest now, “to a man.”
“I’m just saying it never hurts to experiment… not that I’ve ever mind you-”
“Excuse me Prethius, I need to see where her highness has wandered off to.”

After a few moments frantic searching, I locate Zelda under a bush staring intently into the main courtyard.
“Princess!” I nearly hiss, crawling down beside her, “you are not to come into this section of the gardens alone, and you know that quite well.”
“But Mistress Impa, look!” she whispers pointing at the palace gate. There riding in is Lord Fiate with several of his high command and ranking knights. I notice with a hint of anger that Gannondorf is among the dozen or so champions. I also note with a bit of interest that he is riding without armor and with the battle-mages that accompany Fiate onto the field. I had no idea Gannondorf is a magus. All the more reason to be hesitant of him; who knows what other hidden powers the thieving murder possesses.

Zelda’s large blue eyes are still glued to her father though, totally unaware of his entourage.
“I just want to be with daddy on my birthday,” she whispers.

Poor girl. I know all to well that birthday wishes rarely turn out how one wants.

*******

“Well then,” Remha smiles, reaching out a hand, “happy birthday Sister Impa.”
I was thrilled. At sixteen winters, I was an official sister of the clan; though truth be told Remha had thought me worthy of the honor many years prior to this one.

Our clan had changed much over the seasons since the Shiekah were re-integrated into the Hylian military. Our life had always been a martial one, training to be ready for war at any time, so in many ways the clan raised its young and lived from day to day exactly as it always has. After the Hylian king’s call however, those of us training for war were called from time to time into battle. Shiekah clans had always had feuds and sometimes even scrimmages, and our race seemed to be a particular target of Moblin and Lizardmen persecution, but rarely had our little clan been involved in such all out wars like the battles we were becoming more familiar with.

“Now, if there was ever a Shiekah who mastered the art of hiding emotion and desires, Sister Impa,” Remha continued, giving me a knowing look, “it is you… tell me, what is it our newest sister wants more then anything on her birthday, for I honestly could not guess. Remember the first thing a birthday Shiekah asks of a Master will be granted; if it be within his power...”
There was one thing I wanted more than anything, and I knew it was well within Remha’s power to give.
“I was hoping, Master, that Defaid and I might have the day free from training… He and I have long wished to climb to the very top of Death Mountain Crater, and if we started now, we could be back not long after nightfall.”
I could see hesitancy in Remha’s eyes, and I almost regretted putting him on the spot. It was something he never would have allowed normally. While the Grodons were not our foes, they shared little love with the Hylians, and knew all too well of the Shiekah’s close relationship with them. Moreover, Death Mountain was not the relatively tame place it would become under Lord Fiate’s rule, and there were fouler things then Moblins prowling the caves that riddled the still very active volcano.
“If anyone else had asked, even Shiekah many years your elders, I would have flatly refused,” he confessed, “but both you and Brother Defaid are most worthy Shiekah, and I can trust you to think on your feet. You may go, but only on the conditions that you take the utmost care, and that you deliver a letter for me to Master Jeef of the Tacka Clan. Go and find Defaid, then return to me for the letter.”

I found Defaid running through a combat routine on one of the craggy peeks not far from the cave. It was still an hour till dawn, but Defaid had always been one for early practice. He was training with a practice Hylian Pike. Shiekah traditionally shunned training with weapons, and we never made our own. We trained to work with the only weapons we knew we would have in any situation: our bodies and our heads. However, as we began to be placed n more traditional warfare situations, and not just assassin jobs, many Shiekah began to develop their own weapon styles, using Shiekah ingenuity to improve on Hylian weapon use. I snatched up an unused pike and jumped down across form Defaid, noting his start of surprise that I would interrupt his rigorous routine.
“Uh, back down Mistress Impa,” he said, trademark grin strangely absent, “you have never trained with a weapon other then your dagger, and I’d really hate to have to whack you with this pole…”
“Maybe I’ve been practicing on the side,” I replied, grinning innocently at him.

He shrugged, and fell into an odd stance, the long pole of the pike held perpendicular to the ground and his shoulder, alongside the right side of his body. His left shoulder as facing me, his body angled in a closed stance, with the back and shoulder straight and the legs bent slightly at the knees. I had absolutely no notion of how best to fight with a pole-arm, so I mimicked his stance and hoped I looked convincing.

I do not remember if my stance was convincing, but if it was, Defaid’s next three strokes debunked the myth. Stepping in, he quickly brought the butt of his pike swinging up, catching me in the groin. If he had been swinging at someone other then me, I am sure he would have left the leg immobile. A quick lunge from his stance brought his pike’s shaft forward hard. I had hunched slightly and dropped my guard due to his first blow, so I could not stop the middle of the shaft from connecting with my chest. This knocked me to my knees, gasping for breath. The next thing I knew, the head of Defaid’s pike was resting on my shoulder actually touching my neck. I whispered a quick, silent prayer of thanks that the practice pikes “blade” was made of wood and smiled up at Defaid.
“Well, I see your skills are improving… I was sure I would block at least ONE stroke.”
To my surprise, Defaid did not appear amused. Normally he was the one to make the jokes, and if I happened to crack one he was sure to laugh, no matter how awful it was. But that day he merely grunted, tossing his pike to the side and extending a hand to me.
“I have reasons to train with weapons, that is all…” he said blandly, pulling me to my feet.
“Defaid, what is wrong? You are not acting like yourself…”
“I don’t really have the time to talk about this now… you know how Remha is about training sessions… go go go, right?”
“Well, then worry no more, because you have the day off. It is my birthday, Defaid, or did you forget?” his nervous muttering displayed quite clearly that this was the case, “no matter… As you know, a Shiekah can ask for any one thing on her birthday, so I got Master Remha to us passage to Death Mountain Crater.”

It did not take long for us to grab Remha’s letter and start on the long trail to the summit of Death Mountain.

As we leapt from crag to crag, progressing rapidly up the side of the mountain, I could not help but noticed how Defaid’s mood had not lightened. We both paused after a particularly long jump, watching as the lazy sun finally pulled itself over the horizon.
“So?” I asked, looking at the rising ball of fire, “we have time now… what is troubling you?”

He did not answer at first, and I wondered if he was even going to tell me. It was rather alarming; Defaid had never hidden anything from me before.
“Remha was talking with me two days ago,” he finally, gazing out at the sun as well, “he told me he believes your clan will be called into service for a war with the Moblins within the fortnight.” I believe Defaid always referred to the clan as ‘your clan,’ not so much to remain loyal to his dead clansmen as to annoy me.
“And you will go with them?”
“Of course…” for the first time that day he gave his trademark smirk and ruffled my cropped jet black hair. He sobered again though, looking from me back to the rising sun.
“I must admit, I do feel a sense of fear though.”
“Fear?” I had left off scrutinizing the sun and was paying close attention to the pointed features of his profile now.
“Oh yes, Mistress Impa,” I see a soft smile forming at his mouth, “surely you know what the word means my little philosopher…”
“Of course I do, but I am surprised to learn that you still fear battles…”
“I didn’t say battles were what I feared…” his large reddish eyes looked over at me, and the soft tenderness in them nearly caused me to gasp.

“Defaid, I…” my voice trailed off. I was too unsure of what he was saying to know how to go on.
“I’ll be honest Impa,” he continued. The fact that he used my actual name, sans his usual teasing ‘mistress’ clued me in to the seriousness Defaid wanted to get across.
“I fear many things… I fear that when the brothers and sisters leave, you’ll have to stay because of your youth. I fear that I might die in some remote cave far away from this clan, and my stoic little philosopher. I fear that when that happens, I will forever wander the mountains and caves as a restless spirit, who was never able to be with the woman he loved…”
“Defaid, I…” again I found myself unable to continue, but now due to an entirely new set of reasons.
“I know you no doubt find this ridiculous, Impa… I only hope that somewhere deep down beneath that mask you always wear, where your actual feelings and heart lie, you hear one thing. I never knew fear until I thought of losing you before I even had you.”

My vision blurred slightly, and I am sure I was on the verge of crying. Biting my lower lip hard, I looked back up into Defaid large caring eyes. This was something I had waited years for, and now it was here… Defaid’s confession of devotion and love, finally acknowledging me as something more then a little sister.
“You are right, Defaid,” I said, feeling a slight flash of anger at something, and grabbing hard at it in order to keep my head, “I do find it ridiculous… there very notion that I would let you go so easily! I would be in that cave beside you, no matter what Remha said about my youth; and if you died, I would catch your Poe in a bottle and keep it with me until I could find a suitable time and place to release and join you.”
The notion of keeping a Poe-esk Defaid in a jar was the most ridiculous thing that had been purported so far, and Defaid obviously found it immensely funny.

It might sound like an odd way for lovers to talk for some, but both Defaid and I were training to be warriors, and were surrounded by a life of war and battle. We had no youthful delusions about our mortality. Defaid would march with our clan inside of thirteen days, and there was a chance he might never return. A high chance in fact. Dealing with how we approached our love in terms of death was only natural.

As we continued up the Mountain, Defaid was back to his old self, even going so far as to intentionally pick any flower I happened to look closely at and dart away laughing boyishly. Caring for Defaid might have been a risky love, but I was a Shiekah, and I would have had it no other way.

*******

“Keef, I need you to run this letter to Rauru for me.”
“Of course, Mistress Impa,” his large, pretty, violet eyes smile up at me, “what’s it about?”
“Nothing that concerns you, Keef,” I tell answer firmly, “just get it there quickly.”
It is not hard to see the disgruntled look in his eye, but even a Plain Shiekah knows better then to disrespect a Master or Mistress.
“Yes Mistress Impa,” and with a flash he is gone.
Keef really is too young to be handling the responsibilities I give him; at barely twelve winters he is not even a true brother of his clan. However, the clans have been called up in increasing numbers, and I have no choice but to rely on our youth much too heavily. Rauru must receive his updates, and Narue knows I do not have the time to run back and forth to Greudo Valley.

Two days have passed since Fiate returned in victory from Zora Fountain; and one day remains until the celebration of peace and glory that follows. Zelda has been slightly more despondent then normal, and I feel she knows that her birthday will be about something other then herself yet again. I see her as I walk into her private garden, looking through the tiny window in the back. It overlooks the Throne Room, a small ventilation shaft letting air into the chamber that commands all of Hyrule. I sigh; she can only be looking for one thing, a brief glimpse of her father.

I have never doubted Fiate’s character, if Julia loved him then he must be a man of great worth, but sometimes I question his priorities. King or not, he is a father, and he tends to forget that fact. Of course, it has been very hard on him over the past eight years. Julia was his first love, and when she died he buried his sorrow with his king-work. It has been good for his empire, but hard on his daughter.
“Impa,” Zelda cries, turning from the window, “there’s a strange fish-looking man in father’s room… what is it?”
“That is a Zora, princess,” I reply, crossing over to her, “and you will see many more of them soon. Most of the Zora royal families will be attending your birthday feast.”
“I thought I was having a tea party,” Zelda replies, turning back to the window.
“Things change…” I murmur, walking behind her. Through the window I can see the Zora’s royal emissary talking towards the direction of Fiate’s throne. The throne itself is not visible through small window.
How appropriate, I think, straightening back up, just out of sight, and just out of mind.

“Will any one my age be there?” Zelda asks, snapping me back into the garden.
“I believe King Zola has a daughter around your age, princess” I answer, trying to soften my normally monotone voice. For someone so young, and one admittedly so self-focused, the princess really is trying to make the best of things. Maybe I should throw some extra weight in on her side. I have a meeting with Fiate later, and I make a mental note to speak with him on the issue.
“Oh, and Jistine of the Akinda family will be there… I believe you should remember her from your fifth birthday sleep-over.”
“Oh yes, Jisty! She’s ever so fun… she likes horses you know.”
“For some reason that doesn’t surprise me…” the Akinda have always been an out going adventurous branch of the Hylian royal family. Jistine and Zelda had formed a bit of a bond, despite rarely seeing each other, probably due to their mutual dislike of the royal Hylian view of feminity.

“Impa, I want to go for a walk outside, ok?”
“We are outside, princess,” I answer, slightly taken aback by the request.
“No,” she says stamping her little foot, a slight whine to her voice, “I mean outside the palace… to look at the people.”
“You know we can not do that… your father would string me from the highest tree in Hyrule if he found out I took you out of the palace without talking to him.”
“But we did it once before!” I know where her protest is springing from, and mentally kick myself. Several days ago I was forced to take Zelda out of the palace. In a stroke of ‘genius,’ and a complete absence of wisdom, I dressed her up in a blue and white child’s tunic and pants of Shiekah design. This coupled with a high color and turban left the princess looking like a regular little palace Shiekah boy around her age. The disguise had enabled me to accomplish what I needed done, but Zelda had been demanding me nearly every day after to take her back to the market to watch the merchants and townsfolk argue and barter, and she had been getting more insistent.
“Princess, Hylian royalty do not waltz about the town.”
“But I won’t be royalty…” she responds, grinning wickedly, “I’ll be Shiek, your little son!”
She sees my skeptical, disapproving, look and clasps her hands in front of her.
“Impa, it’s my birthday… and you said that Shiekah master will grant the-”
“Yes I know.” Another tale I would have been better off not telling.
“And, I’m asking to go outside… so, can we go yet?”
I look down into the pleading blue eyes, so like Julia’s, and find it impossible to refuse. Maintaining a stoic and calculated frown, I give a nod.
“Go to your room and wait for me…”
Squealing, the young girl darts off, obviously overjoyed. Still, something tells me I am going to rue this decision.

Before there was Light: Part One

Um, a word of introduction... Before there was Light is nothing like Seven Years in feel. Seven Years followed one person (well, two actually) through a logical progression of events. This is the way probably every story you have read has ever gone. However, Before there was Light does not follow this pattern of a story. Rather then the study of an event, it is the study of a person. This might make the story seem a little slow for some, so please let me know if it's becoming a problem. As you will soon notice, about half the story is written as Impa experances the world, and the other half is written about what she remembers from the past. This is a more complex form of story that I first developed (I say developed, but I am sure someone else has do it as well) when writing The Sands of Time for Tales of Icirus. Sands of Time is slightly more complicated though, as it actually has several narators; but that is another story for another time...
Now, enjoy Before there was Light....


*****

Before there was Light
Prologue to the History of Hyrule

Given that Shiekah warriors are trained to ignore the elements and resist distraction caused by weather, it is strange that my first memory should be of being cold.

But it is.

I can see the cold stone walls of the cave my tribe lived in, hear the rain pounding down outside, see the look on Remha’s face as he told me both my parents had died in battle, and even remember the exact word’s he used; but what I really remember is that I was cold. I was cold, and no one would ever be there to hold me again. I could not have been over then about two winters old.

Death, it seems, has always sought to toy with me; never talking my life, but ensuring that those around me visit the grave long before their time. I have sometimes wondered why fate destined me to live among warriors, always surrounded by death, blood, war, and hardship. It is a life that has, at times, seemed more than any mortal should bear. Of course, Defaid would only tell me to stop being silly.
“Life is about more then pain and darkness, my little philosopher,” he would be chuckling, “try laughing more… Death smiles at everyone after all; all we can do is smile back!”
But that day, so many years before I even met Defaid, I could not find it in me to smile. I could not even find it in me to cry.

I could only think how cold I was.

And how I would never be warm again…

*******

“Impa, I cannot thank you enough for this…”
“What else would I do, Fiate? I swore to protect the child, and to leave that obligation now would be a dishonoring not only to the child and yourself but also to Julia, not to mention Defaid, Remha, and every other Shiekah in Hyrule.”
“Well, all the same, I cannot stress enough how wonderful I think this is…” his smile is enough to tell me his pleasure at this, but he feels compelled to comment anyway. I will never understand politicians, let alone Hylians….
“Come, Fiate… we are both warriors, and understand honor,” I let a small smile tug at the corner of my mouth, “even if you have sold yourself to the art of governing…”
“I may be grateful, but do not press your uncanny luck, or my patience, Mistress Impa,” he replies, laughing good-naturedly.

I look down again at the babe in my arms. I am to be her nurse, her second mother, and her protector. Many old women have told me this will be a harder task then any I have ever tried before; and I have fought in more then my share of wars. Well, I accept the challenge. I have had enough blood and death to last me many lifetimes, and children, no matter how much trouble they cause, rarely kill.

“Well, little Princess Zelda, it seems as though we both have new lives before us…”

*******

“Gah, Impa, are you even remotely focusing?” Remha’s words stung, but the real sting was from backhand that had just lashed across my face, “I do not wish to hit you, but you seem determined to let me!”

Shiekah children began combat training after six winters and, orphan or not, I was no exception. Of course, being an orphan was no exception at all among the Shiekah. As a race of warriors, widows and orphans were common enough; almost more plentiful then traditional families.

In truth I had not been paying much attention to the lesson. A mother and her children had arrived at the caves of our clan late last night. Shiekah of the far southern cliffs, their clan had been systematically hunted and killed by the river people; the arrogant, murderous Zoras. A traitorous Zora who the clan had trusted led the armies of King Zola to their cave, and the Shiekah had been slaughtered. The remnants of the family were all that was left of the clan, and Remha had decided to show compassion and take them in. And people say we Shiekah lack emotion…

I remember half-focusing on Remha as he came at me a forth time. He was obviously getting frustrated with me. I knew that a good warrior would pay careful attention to her lessons, dutifully noting how to block and ground an unarmed opponent, but the prospect of new children in the cave was too much for my young, untrained, mind to block out. I halfheartedly blocked a backhand slap from Remha’s right, thinking back over the family that had entered our clan’s cave late last night. As best as I could figure, there seemed to be an older son, one I thought had to be slightly older then I, and one roughly my height. In my perception, that meant it had to be around my age, and I found that prospect to be very inciting. Raising my other short arm, I parried a left backhand and considered the shortest of the newest clan members. There were no children my age in the clan, only young warriors several summers older then I and young babes one to three winters in age. This made my curiosity about the new ones all the greater.

I remember my head snapping back as Remha’s right caught me again. But what I remember even more vividly is the laugh. It was not from Remha, Din forbid that he ever chuckle about something as serious as the training for warfare, but from a figure who had just jumped into the circle we were training in. His red eyes sparkled, and I could tell he was not so much laughing at my pain, but at the word in general. He walked closer, black Shiekah clothing matching the long, black hair that hung over his ears to just above his shoulders.
“Impa,” he said, as though he had been practicing the name several times, and still found it humorous somehow, “Impa, Impa, Impa… Impa needs to learn to block if she expects to live…” he turned to Remha and bowed at the waist, straightening again to smile at the clan’s leader, “I see that you aren’t really hitting at her… just tapping when you get frustrated… very nice of you!”

He was only a hair’s breath taller then I, and I had never seen him before. Even my young mind could grasp who this was; the new boy from the river.
“Ah, Mistress Sefraid’s younger son,” I remember Remha was slightly taken aback that anyone would interrupt one of his lessons, “have you trained in the art of defense yet?”
“Maybe so,” he grinned wider, winking at me, “but I’m not very good at remembering things…”
“Well, remember and teach this distracted little ruffian… if you can, then you have earned a Master’s Rank in my eyes…” with that, he turned and walked off, waving his hands in a gesture of surrendered.

The boy turned back to me, bright eyes matching his smile.
“Been blocking long?”
“About two full moons,” I shrugged. Truth be told I was quite good for the short time Remha had been teaching me, but even in youth I was not one given to brag.
“How ‘bout jumping?” he asked, gesturing out over crags and cliffs.
I remembered I smiled for the first time in nearly three seasons.
“Since I was four winter’s old… I love it so much I do it all the time.”
“Race you up there,” he grinned, pointing up to a cliff high on Death Mountain. I grinned back; of course, the boy had no idea that he just pointed to my favorite spot, and he would soon find I knew the fastest way to get there like the back of my own hand.
“I will give you a head start,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. It was only fair after all.
“Well, only a fool refuses a gift like that,” he laughed, turning to take the first running leap.
“Wait!” I called. Halting from his sprint, the boy looked over his shoulder and raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“What’s your name?”

“Defaid,” he called back, “Defaid of the River Shiekah.” With that he ran and bounded away; leaping with grace and ease out of the shallow circle crater Remha and I practiced in.

Defaid… I remember that even at six, I knew I loved him.

*******

“Mistress Impa, could you spare a moment?”
Ensuring that Princess Zelda’s blanket is tucked tightly around her, I nod to the voice behind me.

I turn and walk back the door, raising a questioning eyebrow at the figure in the door.
“Yes?”
“There’s a man here to see you… he’s older and is wearing a monk’s robe… he said you know him…”
“Rauru? What in Narue’s name is he doing here?” I frown. It is not that I dislike the old sage, only that he never leaves his little hut on the skirts of Greudo Valley unless the fate of the world hangs in the balance.

“Impa! You are the child’s nurse, correct?” Rauru has never been one for discreetness, though I must admit I am surprised by his directness. Generally Rauru never uses one word when ten can be thought up.
“I am… though I am forced to wonder why this pertains to you, sage…”
“Cautious as always, eh Impa? Just as well, for if what I believe is correct, and in all modesty I am forced to admit that the success of my theories is of a high and-”
“Rauru, do you have a larger point?”
The owlish head bobs, and the old sage steps closer. I have to fight to restrain my nose from wrinkling at his distinct unwashed smell.
“Yes, I do. I believe the young princess might just be a rather extraordinary child.”
“And why might you think that?” It is taking all my patience to keep from shaking the old man violently.
“The stars never lie… I believe she possess some of the rarer Hylian gifts, perhaps even on a level high enough to merit sage-hood someday.”
“I see,” I am rather pleased at this, but I hide it well. I must admit that I am beginning to view the young princess like a daughter myself, and what parent isn’t delighted to learn of their child’s brilliance.
“And so I have come to claim the child and take her to my cottage… there we will-”
“YOU HAVE COME TO WHAT!?!” I am losing my normally reserved exterior in the face of this brazen stupidity. Powerful sage or not, Rauru is NOT going to take any child under my care back to the filthy hovel he calls a house, and especially not the crown princess of Hyrule!
“I have already explained the situation to Lord Fiate, and he and I are in agreement…”
Grunting, I brush by him.
“Where are you going? I need to see the child!”
“I’m going to talk some sense into Fiate… Zelda is sleeping and if you DARE to wake her I’ll personally kill you.”

I leave him with a steely glare that clearly radiates the honesty of my words.

*******

“When I catch you, I’m going to kill you Defaid!”
“I think you mean ‘if I catch’ Mistress Impa!” he laughed, jumping lightly away.

Cursing under my breath, and ran in pursuit. As much as I hated to admit it, Defaid was much faster then I in nearly all regards. And he was certainly proving it that day; snatching a flower straight out of my hands and easily putting a good distance between us. Fortunately for me, Defaid had forgotten a rather important fact about something I did much better then he.

“OUCH! HEY! NO ROCKS!”

Smiling, I tossed another small stone from hand to hand.
“If you want the rocks to stop, you had better give me back that flower…”
“Whatever…” he quickly slid next to me, handing over the rare bluish flower. I remember he actually looked quite crestfallen.
“Why did you want it so bad anyway?” I asked trying to lighten his mood.
“Well you picked the first Blue Pedal Flure… I had wanted to give you the first one, but then you got it… I figured that if I stole it from you I could still give it, right?”
I actually laughed a little at that. The idea was totally ridiculous.
“You were going to steal it from me so you could give it to me? Only a River Clan thief, Defaid… I thought you would have known better by now…”
He blushed slightly, crossing his arms.
“Impa, Impa, Impa…” even after eight winters in our clan, Defaid still found my name to be a source of constant enjoyment, “after knowing me as long as you have, you still think I have redeeming characteristics?”
“I do not think that at all…” I smile, “you have nothing to redeem. You are a complete saint who claims to be the worst sinner Hyrule has ever known… it is quite hypocritical…”
“If I’m a hypocrite, then I’m not really a saint now am I?”
Giving him a little push, I felt another rare laugh bubble out, “see! There you go again!”

“Impa! Defaid! Where are you?”
It was Remha, and he sounded worried. The two of us raced to reach him, curious to see what our clansman wanted.

When he saw us, Remha’s face became visibly relieved, but it was clear that something was still bothering him.
“There you are, thank Narue!”
“What’s wrong,” I asked, senses quickly spiking.
“Yeah Master Remha,” Defaid laughed, bowing slightly, “your two favorite pupils are present, what more could be asked for?”
Remha chose to ignore the rhetorical question and address my concern.
“The Tacka Clan, they were attacked by moblins…”
“Oh my,” Defaid murmured, sobering, “casualties?”
“Nothing too bad,” Remha waved a dismissive hand, “moblins are strong foes, but nothing an entire clan of Shiekah cannot handle… I was just worried that any loners might be picked off by additional raiding parties.”
“You know, Master Remha,” Defaid pointing at our leader’s sharp face, “when you lie your left eye twitches…”
I had never noticed this before myself, but Defaid was rarely wrong in his observations about people, so I nodded.
“What is the real problem, Master Remha?”
Remha looked from one of us to the other, and I could tell he was unsure as to whether he should speak his full mind. Finally he nodded, turning back towards the clan’s cave.
“You two are old enough to hear the worst… come to the meeting…”

*******

“What in Din’s name are you thinking!”
“It’s not unheard of,” Fiate is refusing to look me in the face, obviously feeling some hesitancy about the whole ordeal, “the sages have always been allowed to train the female members of the Hylian Royal Family… it has long been known that our women often possess magical…” he trails off, realizing I am showing no signs of understanding, “I take it you do not find this to be a good idea…”
“Fiate! The girl is two years old; TWO! YES this is a bad idea! Rauru is skilled in many things, but ‘child-rearing’ is not one of them.”
“Rauru has told me of the child’s potential, it may well be for the good of the Empire for her to-”
“Fiate, I do not want to hear about your empire! I want to hear about what Julia would want for her daughter…”

The wide shoulders slump and a tired sigh escapes his lips. His green eyes finally look up to mine.
“Impa…” I can see the uncertainty and doubt in his mind. He wants to keep his daughter in the palace, knows his wife would never let this happen, but Rauru has convinced him it is for the good of the kingdom to send her for immediate training. For all his faults as a father, Fiate is an extremely noble and self-sacrificing. If he thinks it is in the best interest of Hyrule to train Zelda as a sage, then she will be trained, regardless of what I, he, or even Julia might want.
“Fiate,” my voice softens somewhat, “Zelda is a very special girl, and I do not doubt that fate has something legendary in store of her, and she will have to be trained. However, she will be better able to handle that training, and act in a manner more befitting a member of the royal family, if you give her time to grow up here. Tell Rauru you will delay her training until the girl has reached her thirteenth winter; that will give her time to grow and still leave ample opportunity for her to be trained before adulthood.”
Fiate considers this for a moment, then gestured to one of the guards that lined the room.
“Bring Rauru to me. Thank you Impa, you may go…”
“If it is all the same, my lord, I would rather stay,” I have no desire to have Rauru come in a re-convince him that Zelda needs immediate training.

Rauru waddles in, a pompous air about him. I am delighted to see the smug grin fall from his owlish face when he sees me standing next to Fiate’s throne, arms crossed.
“Yes, your grace?”
“I have decided to delay Princess Zelda’s training until the onset of her teen years.”
His eyes darken slightly, and I can detect the subtle glare in my direction.
“Your majesty, if I may-”
“You may not. You will still train the child, Rauru, my mind is set in that,” I can feel Fiate’s gave come to rest on me as he pauses, “but I agree with Mistress Impa that the princess is much too young for it to begin immediately. Zelda’s training will begin midwinter of her thirteenth year, not a day before,” I feel his eyes return to me, “and not a day after.”

There is a lingering pause as Rauru takes this in. Finally he bows once more.
“You are indeed wise, Lord Fiate…” His eyes dart up to me again, frustration and anger plain in them, “I wish the same could be said of all your servants…” He straightened, looking back to the king, “I must return to my cottage, if you will please excuse me…”
Fiate nodded once, giving a dismissive gesture with his left hand.
“If you are sure you have no time to stay, then you may go… I had wished to discuss the new Greudo king with you…”
Rauru looks to me, and I nod. Differing thoughts about the princess aside, this is an issue we know we need each other’s support on. Rauru might be one to hold a grudge, but right now I am very glad he refrains from letting it interfere with what is necessary for the empire.
“Majesty,” He begins, clasping his hands before him in the common Hylian gesture of pleading, “the man Gannondorf, if he can even be called that, is not someone to be trusted… Both myself and Impa have seen him to be a-”
“Thief, murderer, liar, tyrant, and rebel,” Fiate finishes, listing off the more repeatable of the terms I have called the Greudo king, “but none of it has ever been proved. General Dunthua informs me that Gannondorf came to power peacefully enough, and according to the customs of the Greudo nation, no matter how barbaric they may seem. Dunthua assures me that not only does Gannondorf command great influence over the Greudos, he is likely to do so for the foreseeable future.”
“But sire,” I begin, stepping before the throne, “Naburoo is-”
“A rouge leader unlikely to come to ultimate power in her nation. Informants have told us that she and Gannondorf recently reached some sort of internal pact a few day ago anyway, placing him as the official head of the Greudo people. He has offered to swear his allegiance to the Hylian Empire, provided he keep his title and that all strictly internal affairs of his people be settled by him. The good general has told me we do not have the military power to fight a two front war with an allied Greudo and Zora nations. We must come to peace with one of them soon, and the Zora are reluctant to meet any demands on their sovereignty.”
“I do not claim to be a master in the art of warfare, or that of politics,” Rauru replied, coming to my aid, “but that fact of the matter still stands clear; Gannondorf is no the kind of man who will easily give up power, or who the Royal family of Hyrule would proudly call a friend.”
“Is this what the stars say?” Fiate queries, leaning forward.
“Well, no your grace, it is only what I know of him,” Rauru replies, bowing his head slightly, “the stars do not often speak of individual’s value; but the Greudo ‘King’ has often shown himself to be-”
“Again, that is what you say,” Fiate replies, settling back into his throne, “but I have never seen the proof. And while I hold both you and Mistress Impa in the highest regard, both of you have personal grudges against Gannondorf. I cannot help but ask if this clouds your evaluation of the man…”

The throne room doors have barely shut behind us before Rauru nearly explodes.
“Cloud my judgment! That arrogant fool of a king!” Rauru bristles, “why did he even ask my opinion? Does he merely wish to hear his thoughts coming out of my mouth?”
I am glad Rauru’s anger is directed at something other then our disagreement over Zelda, so I nod.
“He sees a quick way expand his empire and bring yet another race under his banner,” Rauru continues, almost unaware of my assent, “well, he will be forced to deal with that butcher of a Greudo king sooner or later, and I can only pray he has the foresight to see that. Unlikely though; the man sees only what he wants to see. You would think the bare fact that WE agree on something would be enough to shake the truth of it into him.”

I nod again, but Rauru has already turned towards palace exit.
“Rauru, where are you going?” I ask, gesturing towards my room. I had been hoping that he would stay and help me beat some sense into Fiate.
“I am returning to my cottage to observe the stars… I will get the proof that stubborn mule of a king requires and then I will return. Let us see him say the stars’ judgment are clouded!”
“Has there really been nothing?” I ask, stepping closer and lowering my voice.
“A burning red star has been hanging on the horizon over the Greudo Desert. I think it bodes ill, but it is impossible to get a good look at it from Hyrule Plains. And as you well know Gannondorf has forbidden me to enter the Greudo nation and tore down my desert observatory.”
“What of the stars you can see?” I press, sensing the full truth has not yet been spoken.
“Dark times are coming,” Rauru’s voice has dropped to a whisper, “and I fear Gannondorf may be involved. So is young Princess Zelda,” his yellow owlish eyes burn into me, “if you have her for her youth I suggest you keep a close eye on the princess. Train her in whatever arts you know, for trust me, one day our little princess will be the only thing standing in the Shadow’s way. I do not doubt the power of the Shiekah, or their magic, and I caution you to withhold nothing from her…”

With that Rauru turns back to the door, walking quickly. Reaching the end of the hall, he turns back, a look of curiosity on his face.
“What do you have against Gannondorf anyway?”
“Nothing that concerns you, Rauru…”
Turning, I walk towards my own room.

Before there was Light

After the end of Seven Years the people of Hyrule establish peace and calm, but nothing last forever... The rest of the stories in History of Hyrule are the tales of the growth and lore of post Hero of Time Hyrule. However, Before there was Light is actually before Seven Years and the dark reign of Gannondorf. It will more serve to set the people and place of Hyrule (particularly the Shiekah) in clearer detail. One should keep in mind that there are four major races in Hyrule and its surounding lands: The Hylians, the Greudo, the Gordons, and the Zora. There are also several smaller races, notably the Shiekah, the Kokriah, the Moblin, and the Lizardmen. Turminna, a provance of Hyrule, also has a race of civilized Dekus, but this is a rare thing, and not generally counted as a true civilized race by most cultures.

So, coming soon will be Before there was Light part I; Impa's story.