Before there was Light: Part 10... Last post

When the princess told me of her dream, I had not expected the ‘fairy boy’ to show up the NEXT DAY. But, he did; and snuck past the entire palace guard and me to do it too… I never saw him until he was right there next to Zelda, waving a hello.

He had indeed brought the Forest Stone, and the princess sent him off after the remaining two immediately. Normally, I would have consulted with Fiate over all this, but Gannondorf was eating up all his time, and he and I were still on bad terms after the disagreement over the Greudo ‘king.’ Besides, by now I am at a point where the princess’ intuition, not to mention vivid dreams, are generally surer then the information I receive from my Shiekah contacts. We will see where this goes.

The young lad, apparently Blink, or Fink, or something like that, has taken all this to heart as well. He returned with the Fire Stone in two days, and left immediately for Zora Fountain and the final Stone. Two more days have since past, and Zelda is getting antsy. I am getting slightly nervous as well, but not over the little boy and his fairy running over the plains. Ten more Greudo women showed up at the palace yesterday, bringing the total number of Greudo subjects in the palace to thirty, sans Gannondorf, who is still hovering around Fiate’s side. The situation leaves me slightly ill-at-ease…

On a more positive note, four Rebel Shiekah and a gang of infamous gang of Hylian outlaws have been brought to the palace dungeons recently. Death awaits all of them for crimes varying from arson, to rape, to murder, to high treason. They really are rather lucky; in the days of Fiate’s predecessors they would have been thrown into the dark and nightmarish dungeons of the Shadow Temple and left to rot, dieing of giant spiders, ghouls and even darker things that lurk in the temple’s belly. Under the more ‘civilized’ reign of Fiate, these scum will merely sit in dank, but relatively comfortable, cells until their time at the block arrives.

As I walk hurriedly down a side hall towards the gardens, I cannot help but glance over my shoulder every so often. It is silly, but I cannot shake a strange pricking feeling at the back of my neck. Something is most assuredly amiss. I enter the gardens and glance up to the sky. It seems as though a major storm is brewing above Castle Town, adding to the general air of pending doom. The dark clouds obscure the evening sun, and a stiff wind is gusting. I shiver once, and continue future into the gardens. I should find the princess and get her indoors. She was not in her section of the garden, which is becoming more frequent, and I must locate her elsewhere. Spying Ainee practicing her katas a few yards to my left I call out over the rising wind.
“Ainee! Search the western grove for the princess please… return with her to my room if you find her. And be wary…” I warn.
“Ay!” the young girl calls, darting off. I turn to search the hedge gardens near the palace walls.

I poke around the shrubs, asking the few guards that patrol this section of the gardens if they have seen the princess. No one has seen much of anything all day it seems. Rain is starting to spit as I circle back to a door to a side hall of the palace. My hand grips the handle a little harder as I am struck with a horrid thought. The princess knows of my secret passage out of the palace… what if she decided to ‘go for an adventure’ out in the fields. Rain and storms have always made her giddy and reckless, and the extra excitement of the young lad’s quest might just push her into the rash. Praying I am wrong, I dash towards the hidden spot in the gardens where the passage ends. I slip down the stairs into the long narrow hall, running down to the exit just outside the palace.

I dart around the corner, and straight into a dark figure. I must have been so focused on the princess I let my guard down. I vault backwards, handspringing once to put some distance between myself and the stranger. I thought only Shiekah knew of this entrance…

“Well, well… Mistress Impa…”
Dega… I guess I was right… He is standing there smirking, shadowy figures grouped behind him. In the shadows cast by the flickering torches I cannot guess their number of identity.
“You were more cautious then I had thought; hiding the girl away like that… Gannondorf was furious when a second attempt found the princess simply missing…you may have delayed the return of my sweet Simari, but it will not all go your way. Gannondorf will still raise her… if I bring him your head….”
Simari? Dega is no doubt mad, what is he saying? Wait, now I understand. The eyes behind him are glinting yellow; a whole troop of Garo Ninja! The Greudo in the palace, the Reble Shiekah and bandits in the dungeons, and now a Garo Ninja Clan… there are probably more minions of the Greudo king in the palace then actual soldiers of Hyrule. Gannondorf is going to attempt a coup this very hour!
“Dega! What have you done!”
“I fight for the woman I love, what do YOU do Impa… go now,” he calls over his shoulder to the Garo, “be swift and merciless… I’ll handle the Shiekah…”
Before I can react, the air rushes past me. The Ninja brush by me leaving just Dega and I in the dark corridor.
“Kill that brat of a princess,” he calls after the scurrying assassins, “and release the ones we sent ahead from their cells!”
“Dega, you are insane! Please, stop this!” I cry, pleading creeping into my voice.
“Prepare yourself,” he replies, pulling back into his common Ko’ara stance.

Ko’ara is a basic fighting style that emphasizes fundamental balance and flow. All Shiekah begin their training by learning this style; a ‘base’ if you will. No master relies on it as a true fighting style though, given that more complicated and powerful techniques are needed to face dangerous foes.
“Dega, you cannot beat me… you know I am more powerful then you,” I caution, pulling into a Taraja stance. In the tight hallway, it is best keep a closed form, as Dega will only be able to attack me from one direction.
“Did you learn that arrogance from the Hylians?” Dega asks, chuckling in a most disturbing manner, “I might not be a master of the Shiekah Martial Arts, but I am not without skill… I have spent the last twelve years developing my own style Impa… combined from the arts of all the races I have traveled among… and trust me, I will hear you call ME master before I finish taking your life!”
With this rather grim warning, Dega rushes forward. His whirling roundhouse is somewhat slow, but the form is perfect. I bounce back slightly, willing to wager that it is a fairly powerful kick. Dega comes down forward on the striking foot, and whirls his weight on it, snapping around the opposite foot in a far reaching snap kick. I am forced to doge back a second time, cursing under my breath. Dega is striking from weird angles, and covering lots of ground… I have seen this type of attack before, but never used by anyone other then a Zora. It is an intresting enough attack but, unfortunately for Dega, he has neglected to take into account his own lack of speed, the critical element in a Zora style attack. Grabbing the next kick that snaps in, I roll under the leg and jump forward, right leg extended. My foot crashes into Dega’s chest, sending him flying back a few feet.

“No matter your style, Dega,” I begin in almost an instructor like tone, “I will counter… you are too slow… learn to feel the motions flowing from within, shooting out to guide your attacks…”
His eyes burn, and I know he has picked up on the mocking taunt. It is a lesson given to students in the earliest of stages, and right now a direct affront to the disparity in our respective skill levels.
“Then learn of the Garo Spirit Attack,” Dega growls, glaring at me, “ten years of training under the most brutal masters imaginable, Impa… I cannot be beaten, not by you!” His right fist shoots out, punching into the wall next to him. My eyes catch the green glow of the hand right as it strikes the hard stone. A thunderous crack, accompanied by the smell of smoke and a cloud of fragmented dust, blows out from the spot he had hit. When it clears slightly I see Dega, smirking at me, holding his clinched fist up for me to see. A small trail of either steam or smoke is drifting from it.

Goddesses…. What in the name of the Dark Void was that?

The stone wall Dega punched is cracked beyond belief. I take a hesitant step back as I evaluate my next move.
“The Garo Spirit Attack…” he purrs, voice low and dark, “the Shiekah know of channeling one’s own strength into a strike, but the Garo have learned the secrets of so much more… the souls of the people a warrior has killed can be summoned by their slayer…”
“What?” surely he does not mean-
“Summoned by him!” Dega call triumphantly, stepping closer, “bent to his will! I strike with the power of every spirit I have sent to the Dark Void”
“What!”
“Yes, Impa,” his voice is calm again, as he returns to his Ko’ara stance, “I now strike with multiple spirit forces… it is as though I possess the Kenshi Strike, only at least thirty times as powerful!”
“Only two days ago I told young Keef that the Kenshi Strike was no guarantee of victory… do you really think I will let YOU of all people prove my teaching false?” I jibe, hoping to goad him into rash action. Dega has always had a short fuse.

Dega takes the bait, pushing forward his hand rockets out, glowing with that sickening green tint. I flip back as the punch crosses over me, then launch forward, palm striking out. The heal of it connects with the side of Dega’s jaw, snaping his head to the left. He staggers slightly, exposing his chest. Focusing my spirit force inward, and letting it flow into the punch, I uncoil into Kenshi Strike, aimed at his chest. He is too off balance to doge, and Keef is right about one thing: you cannot block a Kenshi Strike. But Dega does not even try to block the blow. Pushing his weight forward, Dega punches out. What is he doing? And his punch connects with mine; fist on fist.

And then my hand shatters.

Pain courses through every nerve in my arm as I jerk back, a gasp torn from my lips. I am not unused to injury, but I swear that Dega’s Spirit Attack has just broken every bone in my hand…

Dega smirks, obviously unhurt, but I bite back the pain. Whipping the elbow of my injured hand forward, I club Dega across the face. He is obviously taken aback by this. He must have thought his Spirit Attack would knock all the fight out of me. The blow snaps his head around, sending him off-balance again. Driving up with all the power of my legs and body, I bring my left fist into Dega’s lower abdomen. The air leaves him with an audible pop. Dega crumples back against the wall, gulping in a painful breath. He is totally open…

The man you knew is gone Impa… do not think about it… just do what you know you must…

My left fist shoots out for the killing blow, aimed at Dega’s temple. His head jerks back as I connect, slamming into the wall with a crack. His body crumples to the floor. It is over…

“Kill that brat of a princess!”

The words Dega had shouted out when dispatching his Ninja still hangs in the air. Hoping the fight has not taken to long, I turn and run back towards the palace. Please Princess… please be alive!

*******

“You know I love you right?”
“Of course Defaid… and I love you too.”
“This is gonna be a nasty one… but Fiate thinks it will bring the Greudo nation to a point where all they can do is beg.”
“And you think?”
He shrugged.
“Greudo don’t want to be ruled by the Hylians… can’t really say I blame them, but I’m just a soldier… I leave the whole political thing to Fiate.”
“Probably for the best...”

He walked to the door, and turned once to smile back at me.
“Be sure to come back,” I said. I do not know why I did. It was the only time I ever had. Come to think of it, it was the only time Defaid ever left without promising to return. Instead of that promise, he merely smiled and look at me with those deep eyes.

“Know that I always loved you, Impa… but please, don’t ever die with me. Live all the harder for both of us…” Then he was gone.

And then he died.

Sometimes I have wondered if he knew that this was to be his last time seeing me. I will live all the harder for us, Defaid… but I will always sorrow for that day I did not die with you…

*******

A particularly vicious thunderclap greats me as I exit the tunnel. Thunder and several guards dead among the trampled hedges. I dart towards the door from the gardens to the palace. Aside from the weather, it is eerily quiet, as though no one in the palace has realized the danger yet. They will soon; Garo and Greudo might be silent and deadly, but the Hylian rouges about to be released from prison would certainly raise a ruckus. Opening the door, I slip into the hall. I have barely taken three running steps when the alarm bell rings twice: ‘intruders in the palace.’ I hope Ainee has located the princess and taken her to my room.

I run towards my room, staying vigilant for foes as I head towards the princess’ possible location. Palace guards are running everywhere, but they were already out numbered even before so many were slain in the ambush. Excited voices call out, echoing down the narrow hall I am sprinting through.
“Damn them! Prisoners have swept the guards!”
“By Din, spears! Greudo Spears!”
“Prethius has been slain! Those demons killed him!”
“I can’t see them! I can’t, glakfsgv-” his ending gargle warns me that Ninja throwing spikes are imminent.
“Shuriken! Take cover!”
The door… oh no, it is broken open! I rush in, ready to still any non-Hylian breath in the room. A startled Greudo head jerks around, red eyes wide with surprise. A quick left straight sends her off balance. She spins around to level her spear at me, when a familiar zipping sound sings out. The Greudo’s back arches in pain and she cries out as she crumples down. Thank the Goddesses for Ainee and her shuriken… a little skill she picked up from her Plain Shiekah days. Ainee vaults over the bed she had been behind. She had turned it on its side like a barricade, obviously planning to hold the room until I returned. To me great relief, Princess Zelda emerges from behind the makeshift defenses as well. Striding quickly over to them, I kneel to inspect the princess. She seems fine, as does Ainee.

“You have done well, Ainee,” I offer, resting a hand on her shoulder and looking her in the eye, “I will always remember this…”
Shouts echoing down the hallway cause me to look back to the door. None of them sound promising. It is too late to save the palace now… getting the princess out alive seems to be the only course of action at this point. And where is Fiate?
“Ainee, princess,” I begin, turning back to them, “we must get out of the palace to a safe spot-”
“But daddy!” Zelda protest, alarm in her voice.
“Do not worry princess, I will help him if I can… right now we must focus on getting to safety.”
“No!” she cries, crossing her arms, “I am not running away! I will save daddy by myself if I have to!”
“Princess, do not debate with me! We are going to the stables. NOW!” I grab her hand and motion for Ainee to follow. She nods as she pulls out another shuriken; at lease ONE of these two still has some sense.

Zelda is pulling against my hand, but she is nowhere strong enough to challenge my grip.
“We can’t leave, Impa! Link is coming back, remember? He’ll save us!”
Goddesses of wind, fire, and love, she makes enough racket to waken the dead! I turn suddenly, taking the princess by surprise. She runs into me, and my right hand shoots around her neck. I pinch carefully on a little now nerve near the base of the skull and Zelda falls forward, senseless. Scooping her up, I balance the princess over my shoulder like a sack of grain. She might be harder to lug around like this, but at least she will not be alerting the enemy to our presence.
“Ainee I will take the princess to the stables and get her to safety. Stay out of harm, and see if you can learn what has become of Lord Fiate.”
“Ay,” she replies, head bobbing once before turning to disappear deeper into the palace. Praying for her safety, I turn back to the stable.

Ainee will not find Fiate… I got to him first. He is lying in the hall outside Zelda’s room, half a dozen knights and Captain Prethius fallen around him. If I know Fiate, he must have been attempting to fight his way to his daughter, but the bloodied guards tell the story better then words might… thank that goddesses Zelda is unconscious. Fiate’s body is strangely displays no visible lacerations. In fact, he looks relatively untouched. Then I notice the steam snaking out from under his collar. Setting the princess gently down, I pull open Fiate’s tunic, and peal up the golden chain mail to expose his chest. I quickly drop the mail over the sickening sight, nearly retching at the stench of burning flesh. Apparently Gannondorf himself wanted to be the one to put the Hylain king down. That bastard! But keep moving Impa… now is not the time for anger or griving. Get the princess out of here…

Scooping the princess back up, I continue on to the stable.

*******

Defaid laughed, a hand running back through that wispy hair of his. I was not nearly as amused.
“Oh, come’on Mistress Impa,” he teased, hands spreading in a gesture of innocence, “it was just a little practical joke!”
“You need to learn that not everything should be mocked, Defaid,” I muttered, arms crossed.
“And you need to learn to laugh, my little philosopher…” he was still laughing, “life isn’t all pain and darkness after all…”

He had coated the insides of my training gloves with honey as I recall, and had found my reaction to sticky interior quite amusing. It was a few days after my fourteenth birthday, and I assume the prank was Defaid’s belated gift; Goddess knows he forgot to do anything on the actual day…

“You know,” he went on, that wonderfully infuriating smirk still on his face, “it’s not healthy for someone as young as you to be so serious all the time… there’s gonna come a day when you’ll regret being so uptight you know…”

Yes, Defaid… that day did come… but you were already dead…

*******

The storm is breaking in earnest as I ride with the princess out of the palace. She is on the horse in front of me, and waking up in the cool air of the evening storm.
“Impa! What’s happening?”
What’s happening? The fall of the Hylian Empire, is what is happening! However, the princess is most likely not in the state of mind to be told this, so I merely grip the horse tighter, willing it to speed up. As I gallop down the path leading to Castel Town, I hear a scream behind me.

“GANNONDORF! THE SHIEKAH AND THE PRINCESS! THEY RIDE TOWARDS THE TOWN!”
Glancing over my shoulder I see the palace doors swing open, and the vile magus himself thundering after me. Cursing, I look back to the path ahead of me, only to curse again. The gatehouse is full of dead Hylians, and living Greudo. They see us approaching, and scurry to drop the portcullis. Speeding up my horse, I bend forward on her, hoping we will be low enough.

We clear the dropping gate by a hair’s breadth. Looking back, I see Gannondorf screaming at the guards to reopen then gate as he reins his large charger in. Now is the time to put distance between us!

The town square is relatively unoccupied due to the breaking tempest, giving me an open path to the city gates. As we thunder across the lowered bridge, the princess twists in an odd way in front of me. At first I fear she is falling, but she turns back around, and I realize she was only throwing something. Glancing back over my shoulder I see the young boy standing there, staring back to the gates. Gannondorf is there. Focusing all my strength, I begin to weave a Shiekah Shadow Spell.
“Goth Ra Jin Babda de,” I intone “He matha yin gar disda te…”
I repeat the phrase, desperately praying that Gannondorf is not powerful enough to see through the spell. If he cannot we will be invisible. If he can, then I doubt we will last the night. I glance back, Gannondorf is glaring down at the young boy who visited Zelda just days before. I hesitate slightly. The boy cannot possibly stand before him; he will be cut down like an animal to the slaughter. But I cannot return for him, not with the princess struggling on the horse in front of me. There is no choice, I must get her to safety. It is what I swore to do; the boy, though I feel terrible, is beyond my help. But where, in the name of all that is holy, will be safe from that butcher of a wizard?

And thought it pains me sore, I know the one place that will offer some protection.

Off to see King Zola.



*******

“Defaid, please do not be rude…” Fiate was nearly pleading.
“Forgive me if I have a lingering distrust of the Zora,” he replied, arms crossing.
“That’s as may be,” Fiate responded, “but I need them. I cannot fight both the Zora and the Greudo, and I would prefer to fight neither. And you should learn to get over your prejudice.”

I made a mental note to inform Fiate later that Defaid’s family had been slaughtered by the Zora so many years ago, and by the very king entertaining us now. Perhaps it is best to forgive, but some wounds take longer to heal.

The Zora court welcomed our envoy with sufficient pomp and ceremony. Defaid was unusually edgy all evening, but I knew there was no real reason to distrust King Zola, so I was content to let Defaid take my normal role of the pessimistic prophet of doom. Besides, there was too much going on around me to join in Defaid’s gloom. Music, dancers, feasts, speeches and entertainment… but years later as dark rain chased me across Hyrule Plains, only one thing from that evening would still be with me. Defaid’s disgruntled grumble as we parted ways outside my room door.
“Never trust a Zora, Impa…”

If Defaid is watching now, I pray he forgives me for what I am about to do…

*******

King Zola obviously is not overly disturbed by the fact that Hylian Empire has fallen, though the rising power of a Greudo king certainly concerns him. I think he took Princess Zelda in more as a display of continued good-will towards the Gordons then an actual wish to help the Hylian government-in-exile. So I sit now in the rather plain guest room the Zora Court has seen fit to grant us and contemplate my next move.

Zelda has fallen asleep from pure exhaustion. She is curled up on the hard coverless bed that sits in the corner of the room. The Zora do not really mean to offend; they sleep floating in the water and have no real clue as to how “land-dwellers” normally sleep. I sit at a table in the opposite corner, staring glumly at a map. Fiate is dead, and f the palace falls then surely Castle Town is not far behind. Gannondorf may soon control the palace, Castle Town, Hyrule Plains in addition to Greudo Valley, with the rest of Hyrule Proper looking like a ripe fruit for the taking. The Lost Woods will serve as a natural barrier for the land of Turmina, and it is convincible that if the Gordon and Zora nations stay united they could withstand the onslaught of Gannondorf’s forces. That leaves two possible places to flee with the princess: Clock Town in Turmina, and my village in the foothills of Death Mountain. I would go to the Plain Shiekah for help, but thanks to Dega’s treachery, it is unlikely they are still alive. I had heard Gannondorf say the Shiekah were the backbone of the Hylain military himself, and he likely disposed of the Hidden Clan before playing his hand at the palace.

Clock Town would be safer, but for some reason I feel loathed to return there. I spent my youth exiled to that rotting backwater of a city, and I have little desire to force the last Hylain Royal to the same fate. We will go to the village, and work against Gannondorf from the middle of his own regime. I glance over to Zelda’s sleeping form. Living in the very shadow of Gannondorf would aid us in another way as well. Gannondorf will no doubt assume I will seek to hide the child as far from him as possible… and he will no doubt have Garo scouring the south and even into Turmina. But I doubt he would look for her here, particularly if confidentiality becomes our first mode of action. I will tell King Zola that I am sending the princess to the south, and then I shall head to village with young Shiek, last survivor of the Hidden Clan. It looks as though the princess’ Shiekah training is about to come in handy…

*******

Remha always thought I possessed an unusual amount of skill, which I guess was just the fates watching out for the future princess of Hyrule. But when he started me down the path of the Taraja style, he still displayed reserve.
“This is a powerful and mighty tool Impa,” he once told me, “but like any other weapon, it can be used for good or for ill… think carefully anytime you are called on to use it… even if it be by the king of Hyrule himself. Death is a part of life, but no creature’s blood should be shed senselessly…”

I asked him what things were worth killing for, and he seemed pleased that I had thought to ask. Remha was adamant that no list was conclusive, but spoke of honor, justice, and a concept that I did not see as applicable: love… Killing over love? To my young fourteen-winter mind, that did not make a great deal of sense. If another girl tried to steal away Defaid, would I be justified in killing her? I did not believe this was what Master Remha had in mind at all…

Remha went on, not noticing the slight confusion I had over this point, and it never came up again. But t was not until I held Princess in my arms, after swearing to defend her with my life, that I realized what Remha had meant. Perhaps it is something only a person with a close bond of parenting can fully understand. The time when honor, justice, protection, obligation, and affection all synthesize into one concept.

The love of a parent for a child…

*******

“But Impa!”
“Toran, would you please excuse us?”

He nods, messy hair blowing slightly in the stiff wind. The three of us are behind Jethro’s house, where the princess and I have been living for the past three years. Toran give a sympathetic smile towards ‘Shiek’ and leave us alone.

The Princess is glaring at me, anger and wounded pride in her eyes. Arms are crossed over the red Shiekah eye symbol that adorns the chest of her Plain Shiekah style clothing. At fifteen springs she is more rebellious handful then ever. If I thought living outside the pampering life of the palace would shake respect into her, I was sorely mistaken. Now she wants to take her life to the next level and join the scattered resistance fighting back against Gannondorf’s domination of Hyrule Proper.
“Impa,” she begins again, obviously trying to sound more diplomatic, “the fight against Gannondorf-”
“Is not a game, princess,” I cut her off, gesturing dismissively, “you are not even old enough to join a Shiekah rouge regiment, I am not about to-”
“Plarth has a team!” she cuts in, whining in protest.
“Plarth is a full two summers older than you, moreover you are the PRINCESS OF HYRULE, I will not-”
“Exactly!” she interrupts, stamping angrily, “they are MY people… if I do not fight for them now, how can I in good faith rule them later?”
Goddess, the only thing more infuriating then HER, is how much she reminds me of Fiate…
“You didn’t send me to the south all those years ago for a reason, Impa,” she continues, “you kept me up here… you knew this day would come, didn’t you?”
“Yes, princess, I suppose I did… but I still feel you are too young. Do you even know what goes into combating Gannondorf?”
“I know you disappear often… sometimes for as long as three weeks. You say it’s ‘Shiekah Business’ but there’s only two real Shiekah left, so I think it’s more ‘get rid of Ganny business’… I know several of the supply lines Ganny is using to begin his conquest of Turmina, and I can do a lot to stop them… I know-”
“Enough,” I cut in, holding up a hand for silence, “you may engage in light resistance work… LIGHT princess… with Toran. I do not want to hear of you doing something drastic, like confronting a Greudo caravan. They are your people, and it is only right that you want to help, but each must realize that he can only help according to his station… and yours princess, it not to play a large role at this time.”

She excepts this and turns to run back to that unkempt, yet almost adorable, little waif she calls a friend. At least Toran has some skill with his blade… as long as the two avoid anything too spectacular they should be in no real danger. Of course, neither of them has really faced to true horrors of battle yet. Oh, Zelda and Toran have both killed their share of Poes and Skultoids in the plains, but neither have had to look into the eyes of a dieing Greudo, so like your own, or battle the large, heavily armored Skultoids that inhabit so many of the ancient temples, or seen the dark power of Garo Ninja as they silently close in for the kill… I hope for her sake that the princess does not rush headlong into the lifestyle that dominated my youth. I suppose it is natural for parents to want a better life for their children… I wish Defaid was her to give me input.

Sighing, I turn to look up the rise to ‘my house’… the one Defaid built, the one Julia died in, and the one Migrid now uses as a base of command for the underground resistance. Rauru has spoken with me recently from his place in the Temple of Light in the Sacred Realm. He apparently thinks the young lad Link is the legendary Hero of Time that will come in Hyrule’s darkest hour, and the my very own Princess Zelda is the Sage of Wisdom, who will help the hero seal Gannondorf away. Maybe it is true, or maybe it is just Rauru trying his best to sound wise and important… I do not really care anymore, for my past has taught me one thing surer then any other…

The future is unsure, and as unpredictable as the weather of Turmina… enjoy the ones you care for while they are near, for fate can snatch them away at any time.

I love you deeply princess, and I will always be there for you… and I pray everyday that this story will see a happy ending for both of us.