Before there was Light: Part Five

Expect a simi-rapid close coming up... Before there was Light was never meant to be long, so be ready for the trademark Czar "Everything Goes to Hell" style...

“I don’t like it…” Dega grumbled, arms crossed, “they are our enemies…”
“There is an old saying,” I replied, re-shouldering my pack, “keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”
“They also say don’t go to bed with the enemy,” Dega muttered, grabbing up his bag as well. Simari sniggered, and Dega turned bright red. I tried to ignore the comment, but Dega obviously thought since he had already made the slip, he might as well say what he was thinking.
“I mean, just because Naburoo has some kind of weird sexual attraction to you doesn’t mean I have to be happy about spending the next few days living with the people that burned at lest two Shiekah clans to the ground.”
“Dega!” Simari scolds, obviously amused, “you shouldn’t make fun of Impa for using all resources available to her to help us... Besides,” she added, grinning wickedly, “I thought guys were supposed to like that kind of thing.”
“Well,” Dega blushed bright red, “maybe we do, but Naburoo is a freak, and the Greudo are all freaks, and I don’t relish being the only male in the fort for two or three days…”
“You will not be alone,” I answered, as we exited Clock Town and headed towards the beach and the pirate fort, “the message said a Master was coming down from up north to help us with negations, so you will have at least one fellow male to talk with.”

Hyrule was still at war and its hunger for new lands was causing new enemies. Moblins and Gordons were still fighting in the far mountains, demanding near constant Hylian military presence to help their Gordon servants. The Zora Kingdom was becoming increasingly hostile towards the growing Hylian Empire, an a dispute over who had rightful claim to the land and waters of Lake Hylia would likely send the two races to war in the near future. In turn, the Greudo Thieves were no friends of Hyrule, but lack the solidarity to strike out at them… at least for the moment. The people of Clock Town were justifiably uneasy. Hyrule Proper was in little danger of being overrun by Moblin clubs, Zora troopers, or Greudo spears, but not so of the Hylians living in Turminna. The bare fact that Greudo prisoners were being sent to the sea pirates’ fort rather then being held at the Desert Fortress was a vivid indicator of where our enemies felt less threatened.

I felt sorry for the people of Turminna, but I remember hoping that the growing importance of the Southern Front might mean real troops and Shiekah would be heading our way, and perhaps give me the freedom to travel north to find Defaid. That had yet to happen, but hope sprang eternal in my naive young mind. At that time, however, the Shiekah elders obviously thought I could handle the situation in Lower Hyrule myself, and had given the responsibility of negotiating for the release of several Hylain and Shiekah prisoners with only the scantest of instruction. Aside from a lone Shiekah Master who would be bringing the details of our offer, I was alone.

We arrived at the large gates and were once again escorted into the main hall. Naburoo was waiting there as before, talking with a tall, broad-shouldered man with pointed features, blond hair, burning green eyes, and a dramatic air. Obviously a Hylain, he must have been sent with the Shiekah Master to ensure things went the empire’s way. Naburoo turned when we entered, and smiled at the three of us. The prisoner exchange would probably take at least two days, but I was hoping mine and Naburoo’s ‘friendship’ would help grease the process.
“Mistress Impa,” she began as I drew nearer, gesturing to the man next to her, “This is Lord Fiate. Apparently he has made quite a name for himself during the Moblin Wars, and the empire sent him down to aid in our discussions.”

This would be my first meeting with the young noble who would later become both king of Hyrule and one of my closest friends. He stood slightly taller then Defaid, and was much thicker. In actuality, Fiate was one of the most muscular and broad-shouldered Hylians I have ever seen. I have long suspected there must be some kind of foreign blood in him, as Hylians are almost with exception lanky folk. In all honesty, Fiate struck me as one of the most handsome men I have ever seen, but it did not take me long to realize that his ego needed little boosting in this regard… or any other for that matter…

The young man bowed his head slightly in the Hylian fashion. Looking me full in the face, he smiled broadly.
“Mistress Impa, I have heard a great deal about you, and all of it impressive. Though I hope you have learned to block the spear better.”
I must have started visibly at this, for Fiate burst out with his deep, full laugh.
“Defaid and I have been companions for quite some time now,” he explained, holding up a hand to forestall questions, “we have fought side by side in countless battles.”
“How is he?” I demanded, “is he still in the mountains fighting Moblins? Has he been hurt at all? Does he ever mention me?”
“Does he ever mention you?” Fiate laughed again, “does he ever quite talking about you would be a simpler question… Mistress Impa, I feel I know you better then I know Defaid himself!”
“But how is he?” I demanded again, feeling impatience overwhelm me for perhaps the first time in my heavily disciplined life.
“Don’t ask me,” Fiate grinned, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, “I suggest you talk to the good Master. He’ll be able to answer with more authority then I…”

And there, emerging from the shadows behind Fiate was Defaid.

“Defaid,” I gasped. I was hardly able to believe it.
“Sure enough, Mistress Impa,” Defaid replied, stepping closer, “thought it IS appropriate to refer to a Master as such… it’s a great disrespect to do otherwise.”
“You’re the Master?” Dega murmured, frowning slightly, “why do we always get the leftovers…” I don’t think he actually intended for anyone to hear this, so I decided to let it go for the moment.
“You’re Defaid?” Simari giggled, stepping up to be introduced, “I wondered what the only one to thaw the Ice Queen must be like…”
“I became a Master about a year ago,” Defaid said by way of explanation, “Shiekah tend to be in high demand at war time, and I happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
“About twenty or so times to be more accurate,” Fiate cut in, clapping a heavily armored hand on Defaid’s shoulder, “Defiad is as much a hero of the Moblin Wars as I, though you’re not likely to hear it from him… Defaid is blessed with only one virtue, and that’s modesty, though in fact I believe it is only is desire to avoid speaking the truth that keeps him from singing his own praise!”
Fiate and Defaid laughed hard at this, and I could not but help a dry smile from tugging at my mouth. I was with Defaid again, and surely that would make things better.

That night we joined a feast held in our honor. Fiate ate hardily, laughing and joking with Defaid and Dega, commenting mostly on the Greudo women. I had already noticed him casting several sidelong glances at Simari, and her faint blush when their eyes crossed. I had thought about reminding her we were here on a mission, and focus must be retained, but doubted the girl actually needed the warning. Defaid, the other Shiekah, and myself ate sparingly, as dictated by the Shiekah code. We might be temporarily welcome here, but events can change quickly, and no Shiekah will be caught unable to move because of a gorged belly.

Late into the night, as the feasting approached its end, Defaid and I slipped away from the crowded eating halls and back into my guest quarters.
“I have missed you a great deal,” I said, as Defaid pulled the door shut behind us.
“And I you,” he replied, grinning broadly, “I had heard you were made a Master and sent to the south, and I was worried a great deal about you… I knew it’d get rough down here… Though at least the scenery is nice,” he added, grinning wickedly.
“We do not actually deal with the Greudo much,” I replied, gesturing dismissively, “mostly it is diplomatic stuff with the local Gordons or Zora. We have been forced to visit the hills in the south west a few times though, and that can get rough.”
“Why’s that?” Defaid asked, sitting down on the bed.
“Garo Ninja Clans are thick as rats down there. They are our cousins technically, but they have shown us little in the way of love.”
“What are they?” Defaid asked, confusion in his eyes.
“Long ago, they were like us,” I explained, “Shiekah in the lower rock hills. They guarded and protected the graves of all the Shiekah in the south… They live among the ruins of an old kingdom in the hills. However, there they became twisted by the shadow, falling in love with the dark secrets and power the found in the halls of the long dead kings.”
“They good?”
“That’s one way of putting it…”
We both were quiet for a bit, the pause lingering as Defaid smiled at me from the bed and looked back from my spot leaning on the wall, arms crossed, a smile almost showing.

And then, almost faster the even my famous eyes could follow, Defaid was right in front of me, arms supporting him on either side of my head as his mouth pressed hard against mine. My knees totally gave out, but, fortunately Defaid was actually pressing me against the wall enough to keep me upright.
“Defaid,” I murmured into his mouth, too overcome to actually say anything remotely intelligent. Defaid was obviously better at thinking on his feet though, and used my opening mouth to deepen the kiss, gently probing. My arms had seemed to take on a life of their own, hands moving to his hips then slowly tracing up his abdomen, over the chest and circling round his neck. Still pressing hungry kisses on to my very willing mouth, Defaid’s right hand caressed down my side, lingering on my hip. Defaid finally broke the kiss, leaving me gasping for air; but he obviously had less need of breath then I. His lips slid off mine, and instantly began kiss my jaw. After planting a few light kisses there, he was gently blowing and kissing at the side of my throat. I was trying desperately to regain my breath, but Defaid seemed determined not to let me. When he reached the hallow between my collarbone and throat I nearly fainted. His gentle mixture of sucking, blowing and lightly brushing his lips against my skin was too much for my long unused senses to take in. My arms slipped from around his neck, and my entire body began to go limp. Defaid felt me slipping and suddenly brought his knee up, bracing his foot against the wall between my shaking knees. He used it to lever me up higher, leg propping me like a chair. The feel of the strength in his legs awakened something in me that I had never felt before. Suddenly back alive, my arms wrapped under Defaid’s arms, hands grabbing the back of his head. I pulled his face down to mine as I drove upward, trying desperately to squeeze everything out of the kiss. My body was screaming at me now, every part demanding it be given due attention, every nerve wanting stimulation. Defaid’s arms were around my waist now, pulling me close against him, and the feel of his body crushed against mine nearly killed me.

“Mistress Impa, I was wondering if-”

Both of our head jerked towards the voice as it ended in an abrupt gasp. Simari was standing at my door, looking as though she had just seen a ghost. She must have then realized the scene before her was real, because her skin took on a hue of red that would have made the Greudo’s call their fiery hair brown.
“Oh my, I mean, wow, I mean uh, yeah, wow, I mean um-”
“Did you need something?” I asked, trying to sound as dignified as I could given my current position.
“Um, I thought I did, uh, but um, wow, goddesses of fire, wind and love.... Wow… I’ll go now.”

Simari retreated quickly, shutting the door firmly behind her. I slipped out from between Defaid and the wall and fell back on my bed groaning.
“Did she have to come in right THEN?” I asked, frustration plain in my voice. Defaid smirked wickedly as he stepped to the door, sliding the bolt into place.
“Better then than now,” he said, “I’m locking the door… unless of course you think Naburoo wants in on this…”
“I am sure she would,” I replied, already beginning to pull at the strings lacing the back of my vest shut, “and I do not doubt you might like it as well…”

Looking back, I can see how foolish it was. We both knew Defaid would be heading north in a matter of days, and I would be stationed in the south until the Shiekah elders saw fit to send another master to the forsaken south. Fate had decreed the two of us would never be long together, and it would have no doubt been wiser to accept that truth. But that night, wisdom seemed folly, and Defaid and I were no longer Shiekah, we were no long a man and woman; we were one, and for a moment that seemed an eternity, nothing else mattered….

Defaid…

Why did you have to go?

*******

“Mistress Impa, can we get these?”
“No Shiek, and if you continue to push my patience I will be forced to discipline you.”
“Yes, Mistress,” she sighs, eyes rolling heavenward. Fortunately for her there are no true Shiekah about in the market, or I would have to let Zelda feel the back of my hand over that. There are aspects of Shiekah respect and social order that are still lost on the girl.
“Come Shiek,” I say, moving on from the trader’s booth, “we have much yet to attend to.”

I do not really fear for the princess when she is disguised like this, her Shiekah appearance would fool even me, but the habit of constantly glancing over my shoulder at her still lingers from our palace days. Of course, if Fiate knew Zelda was walking the streets of Castle Town not two days after an attempt on her life, he would no doubt be mortified, but in my mind, the princess is safer here in obscurity then sitting in the palace surrounded by Hylian guards that could barely handle their spears waiting for a second wave of invisible ninja assassins. Besides, he was on a diplomatic visit to his good friend Darundia, king of the Gordons, so I planned to deal with the princess as I saw fit in his absence. Zelda has been unusually quiet and withdrawn since the assault, and perhaps that is the real reason I brought her to the markets today. Zelda’s bright, spunky nature has always been a source of strength for me, and her reserved mood was beginning to darken my own.
“Mistress Impa, do you think these would look good on uh, my sister?” the princess asks pointing to a set of girl’s leather adventuring clothing, including ground length cloak.
“No,” I reply pointedly, arms crossed over my chest.
“I think she’d like them…” she replies, checking the price, “let’s get them for her.”
“Your sister,” I reply firmly, “would never wear such things as they would not be ladylike.”
The reddish brown eyes look pleadingly at me, obviously crying out for support. Sighing, I dole out the money, knowing full well this is yet another action I will no doubt regret later.

As we walk towards one of my secret drop points, Zelda is whistling happily. I am glad to see her mood has lifted, and even allow my normally reserved features to lighten.
“I am glad your mood is bright, Shiek,” I interject quietly after the princess begins to whistle the tune of her old lullaby, “but it would probably be prudent for you to sing a different song… that tune is connected closely with the royal family, and now is not the best time or place to be bringing attention to that.”
“Oh, right,” Zelda whispers, visible pointed cheekbones reddening slightly, “sorry, Mistress Impa, I just don’t know any other songs.”
“Well, here,” I offer, drawing out the small ocarina I keep tucked in my belt, “I do not know many of the Hylain folk songs, but this is an old Shiekah tune…” so saying, I begin to finger out a haunting melody that sounds almost out of place amongst the bustle of the market. I have never really fancied myself a superb player, but the princess stares at me in wonder.
“That’s beautiful!” she whispers, awe in her voice, “I didn’t know the Shiekah made such beautiful music… it’s like scary and pretty and, oh I don’t know what to call it… it makes me think about being outside on a stormy night. It so dark and scary, but the clouds are so beautiful…. I have to try it!” she ends, holding out her hand for the flute. I hand over my ocarina, and smile to myself as Zelda vainly blows air through it.
“Here, Shiek,” I say going down on one knee to be level with her, “let me show you.”

For some reason I will never understand, Zelda takes to music like a Zora to water. It only takes about ten minuets before she is playing the haunting tune better then I.
“Do the Shiekah have other songs?” she asks, pausing from her playing.
“Yes, but I need to check something now,” I say, pulling open the loose brick that covers my drop. Zelda goes back to improvising variation on the theme as I pull out a sealed letter. Breaking the seal, I read it quickly as we head back towards the main square. It is Dega’s familiar Plains Shiekah scrawl.

Mistress Impa,

Grim tidings. You may have already heard, but the sage Rauru has died!

At this I must have started visibly, for Zelda stops playing to look at me.
“Is something wrong, Mistress?” she asks, concern in her voice.
“Nothing that concerns you, Shiek,” I reply, somewhat harshly, giving the letter more attention.

Mistress Impa,

Grim tidings. You may already have heard, but the sage Rauru has died! I found him dead at his table, looking for all of Hyrule as though he had passed while eating the dinner which was still on his plate. Things seemed ordinary, but I am suspicious of foul play. I looked for anything about the cottage that might prove useful or give an indication as to his last activities. I found nothing, but there were several reports missing from sequential entries, and several pages of his journal appeared to be torn out. I believe someone might have poisoned Rauru and then stole information he might have come into possession of. I sent this note via a trusted Shiekah lad in the clan, and am currently guarding Rauru cottage in hopes of gathering more information on who might have preformed this act.

I will await further orders.

If the day had been bright before, it was now clouded with the gloom of unforeseen uncertainty.

“Mistress?” she is tugging at my elbow, and I glance down to her, “what is it?”
“I said that it did not concern you,” I snap, sounding harsh even in my own ears.
“It is Rauru isn’t it?” she asks, eyes staring back up knowingly at me, “they killed him right?”
“What did you say?” I demand, sinking on my knees to look more levelly into her face.
“Rauru… I had a dream last night that bad people snuck into his house and killed him. But I wasn’t sad, because he turned into a giant owl and flew away…”
Another dream? And another disturbingly accurate one at that.
“Do you remember what the bad men looked like,” I ask, searching her eyes for a reaction, “did they look like the men who attacked us?”
“Oh no,” she replies, emphatically shaking her head, “they weren’t bad men at all… they were all women. Except one, he was a man… so big and strong like daddy, but not like daddy… daddy is good, and this man laughed as Rauru died, so he must be evil, right?”
“Women?” I murmur, more to myself then Zelda.
“Oh yes,” she replies, “five of them… and who is Naburoo?”
“How do you know that name?” I demand, attention snapping back to the princess.
“She didn’t want it to happen… I saw her fighting with the man… he said ‘shut up Naburoo, you stupid witch, you know I rule us now, not you.’ Only he sounded like this,” here her voice alters as she obviously tries to do an impression of a man I would bet every rupee in Hyrule is Gannondorf himself, “he told her to drop it, or she would be ‘in the south again.’ What does that mean?”
“It means he would send her away from her powerful place in Greudo Fortress… just like the last time she questioned his orders…” I murmured, straightening up.
“He also said,” here Zelda’s eye’s taken on a look of obvious confusion, “that if she didn’t shut up he would ‘forcibly change your orientation.’ Does that mean the same thing?”
“Um, no,” I reply, glancing around. I suddenly feel vulnerable, as though a Garo blade, Greudo spear, or rebel Shiekah shuriken is likely to sink into my back at any given second. The palace will not be safe. Gannondorf must have been behind the Garo assault on us, and probably only recently learned that his first attempt on her life had failed. Until Fiate returned with the more elite of the palace guard, I was the only one capable of fighting Ninjas in the palace, and a second attempt was very plausible. So, what was the best course of action?

The princess has noticed that I am making a decision, and has begun digging through her shopping bag. The glimpse of her leather outfit gives me an idea. Crazy perhaps, but the best I have for now…
“Shiek,” I begin, giving her a knowing look, “how would you like to see the world outside of Castle Town?”
Zelda’s eyes grow large as she looks back to at me, obviously to hopeful to even hope.
“Please Mistress, don’t tease me about this!”“Come,” I reply, taking her hand, “we are going to visit the secret home of the Plain Shiekah.”

Before there was Light: Part Four

“We can enter at the west wall of the fortress,” Simari said, pointing out the location on a small grungy map, “the stream actually flows under the wall, and a grate supposedly blocks the way.”
“By supposedly, I assume you mean not actually,” Dega, quipped, smirking knowingly.
“Exactly,” Simari replied, smiling broadly, “I checked it out yesterday… the grate goes to the bottom of the steam, but it is rusted and broken near the bed. Of course, a Greudo guard would never swim down there to check it.”
I nod to display my understanding, not needing to hide smiles this time; there were none to hide on my end…

I might have been happier if I had been with the warriors now winning fame and glory on Death Mountain. Not that I cared for fame or glory at that time in my life, but the campaign on Death Mountain was called the Moblin War for a reason, and I had desperately wanted to be allowed to avenge the dozens of clans slaughtered by the mindless hulks. But after the destruction of my clan, I had been thrown into a world where Shiekah were viewed by the Hylians only in terms of military eligibility. At a mere sixteen winters, there was no Shiekah clan that would dream of sending me to war, so I was shuffled off with other clan-less members of my race. For a year I was the de facto leader of the Shiekah Orphan Clan. I was the oldest and, Narue preserve us, the wisest and most experienced, Shiekah in the clan. It was where I first met Simari. She was a happy-go-lucky Plain Shiekah, about a winter younger then I. Her manner reminded me of Defaid, who I longed so very much to see. He had marched off to war with the members of a nearby Mountain Clan, and though he was distraught to leave me, we both knew it was his duty. On my eighteenth birthday, I hoped to join the Hylain military and find him again, but fate had other plans. King Thiade had asked the Shiekah eldership for a small team to act as operative in his old lands to the south; it would take a rare breed of Shiekah, as cunning and stealthy and brave and combat worthy. At least, that is what they told me when they requested I pick two of my most promising clansmen and form a team. I now know that this was a mission they expected no one to return from, and my makeshift clan seemed to be the most readily available fodder. With beloved Shiekah dieing by the hundreds on Thiade’s countless fronts, there seemed little reason to send them to death in lands we had never seen.

And so now I was in the cheapest inn in Turminna, with two Shiekah who were even younger then myself, trying to rescue political hostages and wondering where in Hyrule my one love was.

“If the three of us sneak in by the gate,” Dega ventured, following Simari’s line of reasoning, “we might be able to get to the cells before we are spotted… the problem will be getting everyone out. Any ideas, Mistress?”
I regarded the map closely, pushing aside my thoughts of Defaid. I had been declared a Master of the Shiekah arts by the elders just before leaving for the south, and at nineteen winters was the youngest person to receive the honor. This was in part, a recognition of my skills, which where far beyond my years, and a way to get around the requirement that any mission performed by a team of Shiekah be headed by a Master. Defaid will no longer get to chant the title ‘Mistress’ in jest, I smirked.
“There will be nothing for it,” I said, shaking my head, “a Shiekah always plans for the worse case, and even in the best case it will be impossible to lead four blundering politicians out of a Greudo fortress without being spotted. If we are certain that talk will not work, then we will have resign ourselves to the notion that blows are inevitable.”
“What about a Shadow Spell?” Dega persisted, knowing we would be no match for a fortress full of angry Greudo Gaurds.
“To make seven adults on top of ourselves invisible?” Simari chuckles at the ludicrousness of the notion, “that would me the work of several masters and, no offence Impa, we barely have one…”
“Well, how many guards can we each take?” Dega asks. He always has spoken a great deal for one with such limited experience.
“Well, there’s even more then normal,” Simari sighed, “when I was scouting to get a feel of the place and make up this map, I overheard the guards talking about an emissary from the main Greudo nation was here… I also sort of got the impression she was sent here to get her out of the way. Apparently she is rather adamant in her dislike of the new Greudo king.”

At this I started to pay closer attention. I knew one person who fit this description, and was already forming a plan.
“Simari, did you happen to get the emissary’s name?”
“Oh, they mentioned it… let me see,” her forehead wrinkled in concentration, “Nabu… or Nabula… no, it ended in an “oo” sound…”
“Naburoo?”
“Yeah!” her pretty features smiled triumphantly, “Highness Naburoo of the Greudo Fortress!”
Sitting back in my rickety chair, I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. This mission might not be as impossible as we had originally thought.

Dega was obviously uncomfortable just standing in front of the fortress gate. He had not been thrilled with the idea of walking up to the fortress and demanding entrance; but young or not I was still a Master, and he was bound to obey me. But I also remember the way his out look on the situation changed dramatically when the gates swung open and eight shapely and scantily clad members of the Greudo Guard appeared to escort us in. This was another reason I had been glad to find a possible peaceful solution. I had known this was Dega’s first time to interact with the Greudo race, and generally speaking it is best for any male to be exposed to them before trying to perform an act that require complete concentration in their presence.

It had been nearly two years, but Naburoo still looked like the day I had first met her. She had received us in the main hall, fists resting on her hips as she stood with that old self-assured angle. She regarded me with the same sardonic smirk, giving me a quick look up and down.
“Cropped black hair, big red eyes, I see somebody hasn’t changed much… you’re a little taller now,” her smirk took on a bit of an evil tint, “and slightly more developed I see…”
“Good to see you too, Naburoo…” I offered. Gesturing at my companions I gave introductions.
“Sister Simari of the Far Rock Shiekah, and Brother Dega of the Plain Shiekah. We are here as emissaries from Clock Town as-”
A wave from Naburoo cut me off.
“We’ll talk about that later, dear… right now I need you alone. Jimini, please take the girl to the bath house. Let her try any of the soaps, oils, and paint she wants. Sasir, please show this handsome young man around the fortress, and feel free to introduce him to true Greudo hospitality…”
Two of the guards stepped forward, the one obviously named Sasir giving a knowing smirk.

As my two companions were escorted away, Naburoo tuned back to me.
“We will talk in my room…” she said, voice lowered, “there is much to discuss and not all of it bears overhearing…”

Naburoo’s room was plain, which surprised me a great deal. There was bed in one corner and a round red rug that covered most of the center of the room, but the sand yellow walls were bare and a sole, modest, lamp lit the dreary setting. It was the room of a prisoner not a leader. Naburoo noticed my evaluation and the arrogant smirk returned.
“Not what you were expecting, is it? I could tell you I live like this because it reminds me of my humble origins or something, but we both know that’d be a total lie. Fact of the matter is I’m not real popular right about now, hence the reason I’m rotting here in the old country… I’m betting you’ve been sold out too, why else would you be sent to storm a heavily guarded fortress with two kids barely old enough to serve in even my people’s army…”
“I thought you were some kind of high up… what happened?”
“Gannondorf, that’s what,” she shook out her hair, letting it fall to the small of her back, “the bastard’s smarter then I gave him credit for. It hasn’t taken him long to grab more influence then I ever dreamed of having.”
“How?”
The smirk returned, and Naburoo turned to the bed.
“Don’t underestimate the persuasive powers of the only male in a nation of women… I did once, and look where it’s landed me,” sitting down on the bed, she patted next to her; I remained stiffly standing by the door though. I was slightly uncomfortable with where was going, and Naburoo’s knowing smirk was not helping to put me at ease.

“But why did you want to see me alone?” I was quite confused as to how any of this applied to my mission, or to Naburoo’s situation.
“Oh, I can think of several reasons…”she responded blatantly, giving an obvious tug at the waist of her already very low pants, “but mainly, I wanted to perhaps make our little alliance more official.”
“We have an alliance?” at the time, I personally thought this was perhaps too strong a word.
“I hate Gannondorf, you hate Gannondorf, Gannondorf’s ultimate aim is the destruction of Hyrule, you Shiekah are servants of their Empire… surely you can see how our goals coincide…”
“Basically we both want Gannondorf gone, and both are willing to do just about anything to see it happen.”
“You catch on very quick for someone so young,” Naburoo laughed, lounging down onto the bed.
“Like you could talk,” I snorted. Naburoo raised an eyebrow at this, propping herself up on her elbows to look at me.
“Oh, wise Shiekah? How old do I seem to you?”
I shifted at this, now willing to bet my guess would be horribly wrong.
“A little older them myself… a few winters perhaps?” It was an exaggeration on my part… truth was I would have actually guess she was no older then eighteen winters herself.
Naburoo fell back on the bed laughing, before gesturing vigorously for me to step closer. I complied, but was far from happy at the idea.
“You’re what?” she asked, still smirking, “eighteen, nineteen at the most? I’m thirty four years old, Mistress Impa… age well don’t I?”
Some shock must have stood out on my face, because she went on to explain.
“The Greudo people age much slower then Hylain or Shiekah. We develop roughly the same until reach our early teens, and then our aging rate slows to nearly half that of yours… helpful given that a male is born only once every hundred years or so… but that’s hardly important now. Let’s talk about US.”

*******

I slept in Zelda’s room for nearly five years, and when I finally moved to a room of my own, it was just across the hall from hers. And yet, when I hear her cry out, it still seems to take an eternity to reach her.

“Impa!” she sobs as I dart into the room, “I had another dream!”
I curse under my breath. The princess has always had dreams, some of which would have been disturbing even for me if they were even half as vivid as the young girl made them sound. They have been coming with more frequency recently, and I believe the powers of a seer are awakening with in her, just as Rauru told me so many years ago. Poor girl; it was more then anyone of only ten winters should have to endure.

It is times like this that make me woefully aware of my inability to parent children. I know what my training would tell me to do: smack Zelda on the side of the head for crying over a dream and then get her to deal with the actual dream itself. However, the princess is no Shiekah, and I do not think I could ever seriously entertain the idea of striking her in any manner. Pulling the chair from her vanity, I sit next to the bed.

“Do you wish to discuss this?” I ask, almost cringing at how detached my voice sounds. Zelda sniffles in reply, shrugging her thin shoulders.
“I don’t know… it was really scary.”
“What happened?” I ask. Whatever she saw might be disturbing, but she needed to tell me. The princess’ feelings of dread, and dreams of dark tidings, had a disturbing tendency to be well founded.
“Well,” she begins, and I can see there is a bit of frustration in her eyes, “I don’t really remember…”
“Princess,” I cut off her excuses, “it is obvious from your demeanor you remember quite well… why are you not telling me?”
“Because,” she bursts out, honestly starling me with the frustration in her voice, “I just had the most horrible dream ever, and you don’t even hug me! You only want me to be strong and tell you what you need to hear, to do my duty. But I’m not strong like you Impa, I’m not even a Shiekah! I just wanted… wanted… you to…” she is sobbing by now.
It’s two in the morning, I hear my Shiekah training screaming at me, slap some respect into a child that disrespects her Mistress’ request and have her answer. And I must admit, if this were young Keef in front of me, or some other Shiekah child, I might have followed my thought. But she is not Keef, or even a Shiekah. She is just a young girl that never saw her mother, and sees her father nearly as little.
“Princess,” I murmur softly, reaching a hand towards her. Sniffling, Zelda flings her arms open and nearly dives at me. Catching her against me, I somewhat awkwardly stroke her long blond hair. This is something I am not overly used to, but I must admit I find it enjoyable. Then suddenly Zelda tenses. This causes me to mentally jump to me highest level of alertness, and a feeling I know all too well begin pricking at the back of my neck.

Someone is here… in this very room….

I gently lay Zelda back trying to show no alarm to her or the mysterious intruder who is unaware of my alertness to it presence. I think the princess must sense my disturbance though, for her large blue eyes open wide.
“Impa,” she whispers, voice small and still, “it’s happening…”
“What is, highness?” I whisper back.

“My dream where I die…”

Blood is pounding in my ears, every sense spiking.
“Impa…” Zelda whispers, anxiousness clear in her voice.
“Be still,” I hiss, eyes darting around the room. Whoever is haunting us is either invisible or as good as any Shiekah master at hiding. Closing my eyes, I empty my mind, trying to become one with everything in the room.

Zelda’s breathing…

The breeze blowing through the open window…

The rustle of the curtains…

The chill of the stone floor…

The slight scratch of a foot on the floor…

The air rushing past a silently charging figure!

I whirl, eyes still closed. I sense the slash and duck, feeling the air above my head ripple as a blade cuts through it. I come up lunging, right palm cutting in a vicious cross. A gasp escapes my opponent as it flies backwards, but a second sound has caught my mind. There is a second assailant, and its lunging for Zelda’s bed. I vault the bed, leg striking out as I do so. I feel my foot connect with the second assassin, sending it flying backwards as well. I open my eyes as my feet land on the other side of the bed, turning to see if the first assailant has retaken its legs. He has and now, at last, I see my adversaries, though in truth I can think of few worse sights. Brown hoods that fall into sleeveless cloaks that reached just below the knee, large piercing yellow eyes that seemed to glow from beneath the hood, and each holding two scimitars.

Garo Ninjas. Someone obviously hates me a lot…

The first Garo leaps forward, slashing down at Zelda as he nears the bed. I drop my back to the floor and kick the bed hard with both legs. It scoots forward, clipping the Garo’s knees hard, and sending him flopping harmlessly across the princess, arms failing in front of him. I roll quickly to the left as the second Garo brings his heal down in a vicious stomp that cracks the stone floor beneath it. Pushing up on my hands, I stand in a headstand, back to the second Garo. Pushing off with my arms, I arch backwards, both feet connecting with the ninja in a powerful kick. I feel and hear the air leave him in a strange popping sound. He flies back and crunches into the wall, crumpling to the floor like a broken doll. The first Garo lunges off the bed at me, and I feel the pommel of his scimitar connect with my jaw. I stagger backward slightly, but maintain balance and flow. I shift my weight back, adopting a ready stance, the Garo adopting the open stance of his ninja clan across from me.

“The Garo are no foe of the Shiekah, or the Hylian,” I growl, eyes boring into him, watching his swords as well, “why do you attack the princess and I?”
“It is the way of the Garo to bear their heart when they have been beaten,” he hisses from beneath the brown cowl that hides everything but the large, piercing yellow eyes, “and you will find I am far from dead!” With this grim waning, the ninja jumps at me. He whirls in the air, swords extended. I jump the first blade, left leg shooting out to snap kick the Garo in the face. He ducks the kick, causing me to curse as I land across from him, back to the wall.
“You live up to your reputation, Mistress Impa,” comes the raspy voice, “I should have asked for more gold!”
“Hey, jerk,” Princess Zelda’s clear voice rings out, “For an assassin, you sure talk a lot.” With this, she brings her stuffed cow pillow down on the startled ninja’s head. Of course, it probably hasn’t even hurt him, but he is looking at Zelda now, surprise clear even in his unearthly glowing eyes. I dart in right fist shooting forward in a powerful straight. There is the rewarding sound of my knuckles crunching into his hidden jaw, and the Garo spins, sitting down hard, scimitars clattering away from him. I shoot a quick roundhouse to his chest, driving the air out of him, preventing him form retaking his feet. Snatching a fallen scimitar, I press the blade to the Garo’s throat glaring down at the large yellow eyes that look back at me in awe.
“Osta tin ja,” he breaths, literally ‘she fights like a demon’ in Hylian.
“You want to talk now?” I growl. The Garo might be impressed with my skills, but flattery is not really something I need just now, “who sent you?”
“You will learn soon enough,” he laughs, “to die without leaving a body… this is the way of the Garo.” The ninja jerks his head around in a grotesque motion, his neck giving an audible snap.

“Princess, get back!” I cry, leaping over the bed. Grabbing the collar of her nightgown as I fly over the bed, I drag the startled princess with me to the opposite floor. No sooner have we hit the floor then I hear the distinct ‘fhoomp’ of the two Garos’ bodies bursting into flame. Still holding Zelda’s hand, I dart to wards the door, nearly dragging the poor princess after me. Guards are already running towards the room as we enter the hall. The sight of them is almost jarring. I realize then entire ordeal must have only taken a few moments, but it seemed like an eternity.
“Fire,” I call to the foremost guard, “bring water!”
“Yes, Mistress Impa!” he calls as he whirls to run back to the nearest water source.
The fire is slight, and there is little chance of it spreading, but I quickly pull Zelda down the hall towards Fiate’s room. The most guards will be there, and it is quite possible there are more Garo Ninjas about.
“Impa,” the princess breaths as she struggles to keep up with me, “what were they?”

What were they? Ninjas of the far distant Garo clan. Close relatives of we Shiekah, the Garo long ago became consumed by the shadows we live in, selling themselves to the darkness for greater power. Dark ninja who would kill their own mothers for enough rupees, the Garos’ uncanny skill could not be denied. Indeed it was doubtful that even I would have sensed their presence if I had not been alerted to them. But Zelda had known they were there, even before they had actually entered the room. Moreover, Garo, though always effective, were not cheep; someone had wanted to ensure the princess’ death. Who could afford to hire assassins all the way from Turminna, and why did they want a girl of ten to die? Rich powerful enemies, Ninja attackers, and uncanny ability to sense evil even I had missed… My eyes glance back at the girl, and the sight of her actually unnerves me.

I know who they are princess… but what in Din’s name are you?

Before There Was Light Pics

Impa Shortly before Gannondorf's rebellion (found at icybrain.com)

Above Left: Young Princess Zelda as Shiek (found in the new posts at elfwood.com)

Above Right: One of Impa's Shiekah friends whose name I forget butwill be mentioned in the next section(found at elfwood)

Above: Lord Fiate, Queen Julia, and guess who (also found at elfwood; doesn't fit my story exactly since Seven Years clearly states Julia died in childbirth, but it is still a cool pic).

**Note: These pictures were orgainized by SEM - if you don't like it as much as Czar's original way, I don't care...I like it.**

Before there was Light Pics

(left) Impa shortly before Gannondorf's rebelion (found at icybrian.com)

(right) Young Princess Zelda as Shiek (found in the new posts at elfwood.com)

(Above) One of Impa's Shiekah friends whos name I forget but is in the next section (found in elfwood.com)...

(Above top) Lord Fiate, Queen Julia, and guess who (also found at elfwood; doesn't fit my story exactly since Seven Years clearly states Julia died in childbirth, but it still a cool pic)

Sorry for the haphazard way this looks, but it was my first time trying to put up images.... maybe Sarah will make it look nice later or something ;-)

Czar