The guards had been nervous all day. Honestly, they had good reason to be. Before, the day had been still and warm, the only noise was the cracking and creaking of ice from the mysterious flash-freeze of the surface of the lake. There was a sick sheen of oil tainting the irregular surface, tiny wavelets frozen in mid-motion.

Then the music began.

No one knew the source and it made the entire town nervous. It was a fluctuating trill for most of the day, with no rhyme or reason, somehow climbing into the still air and weaving thought the streets. The men sweat under their uniforms, fingers edging nervously towards their weapons. The villagers scurried inside as the unnatural tune drifted aimlessly in the air. The people shivered and held their children, the Lost growling and settling their weight uneasily as they eyed the source of the sound. They could tell it was on the far side of the lake, which was barely visible on the horizon.

The strange light display began near dusk, causing a nervous sweat to the townspeople and guards alike. There was a great cry as the multicolored flames burst, through the sudden influx of light in the darkening sky cast no shadow on the town huddled on the shore. The eerie flames danced on the horizon, almost beautiful if it weren't for the foreboding that it cause din the dwellers of Kakariko. The fires swirled and finally shot towards the heavens, finally winking out.

The piping music came to a warbling end, trialing off into silence that was a shock to the senses. When it ended, one would think the people of Kakariko Village would breathe a sigh of relieve. Instead, a singing tension was left in its place. There was something building in the air, beneath the dusk that bled into the tainted ice of the lake, turning it into a bloody pool.

The sun sank below the horizon, the darkness shrouding the land. Torch-lighters went about their work, bringing flickering light along the curtain wall surrounding the little, uneasy town. The quiet seemed superficial and stifling as the muggy air.

The warm air hit the ice, creating mist that floated up from the frozen lake, condensing into a thick fog that greatly reduced visibility. The guardsman glanced around nervously, hands clenching their weapons. The thick fog crashed into the curtain wall, curling upwards to fold back into itself. The great wave of cool moisture continued to build and swirl about before seeping between the planks of the gate and over the wall to roll through the city streets.

Soon, the fog had completely enveloped the town, beading on the stone and windows of buildings. It clung to the armor of the guards, dripping down as if to show the nervous sweat that was currently soaking their under armor.

Lights from the buildings were swallowed, shadows elongated and the world muffled. The Lost patrols were still with their un-Shifted partners, eye locked on the fog's source with an unnerving intensity. The townsfolk retreated indoors once more, leaving the guards to shuffle in agitation. The limited visibility gave them a sense of powerlessness, tapping some primitive part of their brains that feared the unknown.

There was no nervous chatter from the guards, just a tense silence, waiting to see what was going to break the tenuous peace. A scraping sound, like a blade being drawn across stone, broke though the fog, grating on the nerves of the guardsmen. It was a whisper that redoubled and muffled at the same time in the thick air. It was nigh impossible to find where the sound was originated from. It seemed to come from all sides at once.

The watch stood duty thirty yards from the lake's shoreline on the curtain wall and fidgeted with their weapons. The sound of the rhythmic shushing scrape was getting closer, but they couldn't see five yards, let alone thirty. The Private nervously put his whistle to his mouth, his partner motioning for the young boy who was the runner on duty to come from his hiding place. The terse message that there was something or someone approaching in the fog and that the guard should prepare to muster on a probable attack was given.

The runner dutifully took off, leaving the guards to squint into the miasma, which seemed to defy the light the torches threw off. The grinding rasp seemed to be right on top of the guards, who drew their bows in preparation.

Just as mysteriously as the noise began, it ended. The muffled silence piling on the stress as the guards shuffled, the creak of leather and their breathing too loud, making them more self-conscious. After a moment, the Corporal turned and angled the covers of the torches, so that their eyes could adjust to the darkness, the torchlight thrown back against the gray stone instead of out. The light was doing little good in any case, bouncing off the droplets of water and further blinding them. The Private made a soft noise of complaint, but settled at the signal for silence from his partner.

The sound of footsteps managed to work through the fog. The Private licked the sweat off his upper lip nervously as he tightened his grip on his bow. He dragged his forearm across his brow, forgetting that he wore a helm. The Corporal shifted his weight and leaned towards the edge.

"Who goes there?" He called with a voice strong and steady despite his growing anxiety. He signaled the Private, who raised his bow and notched an arrow, the wood creaking as he drew back the string. "Identify yourself!"

Watch Captain Karis looked up as the runner burst into his office. The wide eyed boy was breathing hard and covered in sweat, chill notwithstanding. The Captain frowned, setting down his pen and looking at the three other runners, in their pallets until needed, who were already preparing to leave.

"Cap'n sir! There's sum'thin' comin' up on Crow Bait Lake's gate!" the boy gasped, chest heaving.

"Unknowns?" Karis asked narrowing his eyes at the messenger as one runner pushed aside their pallets, another fetching a glass of water. They were limbering up, preparing to be sent to the other stations.

"Not sure, sir! It had Corporal Davies right spooked! He thought it better to start the alert, in case them nasty things are setting up an attack." The runner took a gulp from the glass that was handed to him, spilling some down his chin in his haste.

Captain Karis was about to reply when a shrill whistle began to scream through the fog in panicked blasts.

The footsteps stopped at the sound of the creaking bow. There was an uneasy silence before the Private's body jerked, an arrow buried in his throat. The Corporal gasped, flinching away from his dead partner in shock before an arrow punched through his helm and he fell over the wall.

The Sergeant at the base of the gate stared in surprise at the Corporal's body as it crashed to the ground before grabbing his whistle and blowing the signal for attack in a panic. The gates were barred and there was no way to open them from the outside, but the Sargent and his partner drew steel.

A figure suddenly appeared before the pair, fog blasting away for a moment as if the person had just burst from the thick air. In the dim light from the torches that weren't smothered by the fog, the body was black. The pants, boots, tunic, long hat, arms and gloves all seemed to be composed of darkness. The figure watched them, black bangs tangled and framing skin the color of shadows. The light managed to catch on the eyes, which gave off an amber sheen.

Both men took a step back as the shadowed figure pulled out a weapon, cocked back an arm with dark bandages hanging from the hand and threw it at them. The two went down hard, heads bashed with a nonlethal strike. The figure caught the weapon on the return path, hooking it back in the belt and turning on a heel to walk on. The shrill whistles of the guard sounded in the air, announcing their approach.

Link gave a low laugh, the sound rumbling through the fog and chilling the souls of the guards as they tried to fight the panic. The watchmen had no clue what was happening and the chaos that was erupting was confusing with limited visibility and strange, hollow noises from the fog. Link moved down Main Street like a one man army. The patrols called by the whistles and cries were easily brought down. The fog was too thick to see much more than an arm-length in front of him, but the boot strikes on cobblestones, the jingle and clank of the armor and gear gave away their positions and Link used his canny talents to take them down with boomerang or even just backhanding them if they got close. Cloaked in shadows and mist, no one got a very clear look at him.

The men were rattled. The invader moved at a leisurely pace, as if he were out on a stroll. The reports of the incident that Captain Karis would later read would be inconclusive. The man seemed to be pieced from the darkness, larger than life and everywhere at once. Unless there were multiple invaders that looked exactly the same, he disappeared and reappeared in different sections of the town. The scent of burned flesh, oil, stagnant water and death clung to the figure, cloying and sickening to anyone unfortunate enough to catch a whiff. The assaulter disabled or killed anyone who got in his way. Coordinated attacks did nothing, the man – they were sure it was a man – turned away blades with his arm, deftly sidestepped arrows and seemed to flow under the patrolmen's guard and take them down. The man never drew the sword that was peeking over his shoulder. He didn't have to.

Monk scowled, trying to see through the fog but the light from the double doors spilling onto the balcony made it nigh impossible. The bald man started to pace, sifting through the panic of the guardsman to try to discover what was going on. He could sense something approaching, ominous and huge. It pressed against the old man's mental barriers.

The air seemed to condense, then expand, a black figure teleporting onto the balcony and causing Monk to fall back in shock. He barely recognized Link through the taint that covered him from head to toe. The teenager even had the audacity to have grown an inch or two. Before Monk could respond, the teen showed his teeth in a malicious smile.

"Error says hello." The thief told the stunned man with malevolent glee. Monk's expression went hateful but the thief was quick. The bald man's head jerked to the side, his body obliged to follow so that he crashed to the floor from the savage backhand he never saw coming.

Link stepped over the body, striding out of the room and into the hall, heading towards Errol's room. There weren't guards inside the mansion. Not on this level, at least. The teenager could hear the chaos outside as the men still tried to pin-point his location. He had played cat and mouse with them, teleporting about the village to stir the confusion.

Link paused before Errol's room, kicking the door negligently. The boot actually slammed the door off the hinges, throwing it across the room to smash through the balcony doors and over the ledge. The thief strode into the room, smiling at the journal that was sitting on the desk, open to a page. He gave a rumbling chuckle as he read what was there.

"The desert winds howl and the sands raze the flesh from bones/Dangerous beauty that can slit a throat as easily as steal/Death clings to the fortress of stone and sand." He murmured, smirking. He closed the heavy tome and glanced to the side. There was a velvet bag, the seals settled on top. "Isn't that just luck? It's like they knew I was coming."

He swept the seals into the sack, tossing in the book. He tied it to his belt, turning just as Errol came to a skidding stop, eyes wide as he saw the phantom inside of his chambers. The mayor panted, grabbing for his rapier on his hip. Link seemed to glide across the room, the smell of burning flesh strong as he drew the Master Sword, smoke rising from around the bloody bandages. The thief didn't hesitate: he ran the man through.

Errol gave a shocked cough, blood spewing from his lips as Link laughed and shoved the blade so that the cross-guard pressed against the flesh. He pulled it free, watching Errol grab at the wound, falling to his knees and finally falling over. Link flicked the blood from his blade, cleaning the excess from it on Errol's slowly soaking shirt. He looked up just as Viscen limped into view. He gave the black-eyed guardsman and ironic salute before teleporting out.

"TRIS!" the guardsman roared; turning over the dying man as the Shifted woman seemed to materialize out of thin air. She looked vapid and uncaring down at the pair of men. "Heal him!"

Tris stared at Viscen as if deciding if she should listen or not. She looked at her hand and arms, covered by thick leather. The pounding of feet announced guards. She gave them a cool look.

"Carry him." She ordered the men, starting to move towards her rooms. Viscen allowed them to take the man, turning and running down the steps. He didn't need to see where Link was going. He knew.

Link cheated to get to the former prison, now thieves' den: he teleported across the distance in large chunks. He rested twice for ten minutes to get his magic back before he finally topped the ridge to the view of the former Shieka Prison. The prison had been cut into the looming cliffs before living memory and was three miles behind the actual settlement. The prisoners had transformed the huge span of terraces stripped of dirt and mined for minerals into levels for their homes. Decades of strip mining hard reduced the area for miles around to barren desert. The near-white sand was loose and blown into wavelet designs across the broad expanses of emptiness. Rocky formations were scatter about the area, some skeletal trees remained standing for the time being beside them.

The prison itself was now a temple. Towering winged women statues framed the entrance, facing each other with greatswords in their hands buried on either side of the double doors. Link scanned the area with the binoculars, nothing in the back of his mind the positions of the guards. They had glaives in their hands and some steam powered guns slung over their chests. The watch didn't notice or didn't call the alarm over his presence so he discounted them as useful. The night was still, the dark and half-moon the only light for the teen to go by. Everything was quiet, empty of any nocturnal creatures that would normally stir during the wee hours. The thief pulled off the binoculars, inhaling the air that seemed tainted by ozone, his smile twisted in anticipation. He would force the colony below him to their knees to serve him. His private army to march upon Gannon's Castle as he toppled the fool there and settled in the throne himself.

If they declined, he would just kill them all. He refused to have anyone who would contest his regime. Soon, he would have the last piece and then he would have his wish.

Link winked out of sight, appearing at the base of the steps leading to the towering doors. There were letter inscribed on the blades of the swords in that curious script. His mind translated it easily: "By Wisdom, Power and Courage" and "Let he who has earned it bear the reward".

The thief climbed the stairs, flexing his fingers to loosen the stiff, pained digits. He could feel the heat of the Master Sword through the sheath and his armor. It was now a painful weapon to wield. His palms were blistered even under the gloves. The bandages wrapped around the palms were already stained with puss and blood that had soaked through the leather. It worried a part of the long-eared thief, a part that was distant and foreign to Link right now. Easily ignored and pushed aside. The Master Sword was needed to slay Gannon and he would wield it until then.

Afterward, he might just destroy the blade out of spite.

Link walked into the temple as if he owned the place, as if it were already apart of his great country. He navigated the passages quietly, overcoming trials of rooms of quicksand and moving walls. It took him three hours to manage the great maze of the temple. He didn't even know if he was deep underground or high in the air. He'd gotten turned around, dropped down long falls, climbed so many steps, climbed and fallen again…even the map that Houlihan gave him was of little help. It gave the room his was in and a "?" in the section marked "level". Curiously, there were no Unknowns to challenge Link at all. Not even a rat. It should have made the thief paranoid, but he merely brushed aside the worry. Who would dare challenge the King of Hyrule?

Link finally came to a small door that opened as he approached. There was a blank red curtain shimmering in the portal and he stepped through, feeling the rush of Power fill his veins. The Master Sword began to burn and seemed to push away from his back. The thief hissed in pain, unbuckling it and tossing the sword across the room. He snarled in rage, his back throbbing. The dark man nearly went over and kicked the blasted thing, but his attention was caught by the only other object in the room.

There was a tall mirror in the middle of the room, a heavy silver frame curling around it with a Triforce engraved in the top, the gold coating worn away on all but the lower left triangle. What was very odd was that the silvered glass reflected nothing in the room. Link frowned, stepping close until he saw the last seal residing inside the mirror. An image shimmered into being behind it as he approached. There was a small island in the distance with a skeletal tree in the middle of the small hump of pale sand. A figure was curled under it, sleeping or dead. A dark shadow was on the other side of the tree. The long-eared teen walked around the mirror, frowning. There was nothing behind the mirror; just the back with no design, nothing really special about it beyond what was reflected. The teen stopped in front of it again and mentally shrugged, reaching for the seal.

His fingers touched the glass, the surface rippling like water. Emboldened, he plunged in his hands, fingers almost to the seal when three hands reached back out of the mirror, grabbing his forearms and one his neck. All were clad in leather gauntlets, the left with extra padding as if for archery, along with blue and silver accents. The right was backed with bronze mail with green accents in the leather. The one that grabbed his throat had gold plating, the arm so far out of the mirror; he could see the red color of the sleeve. A bright flash of light seared his vision and he was yanked into the mirror.

It was raining. He could feel it on his skin. It was warm, soft rain that had soaked through his clothing and drenched his hair. The scent that accompanied it was strange, clean. There was no taint of smoke, steel or oil. There was a hint of rich earth, but it was pleasant. A whispering hiss of the drops hitting the water and a softer patter of it striking wet sand dominated all other sounds for the young blonde.

Link couldn't remember feeling more at peace, especially when he had no idea where he was or how he got there.

He slowly pried his eyes open, exhaustion still deep set in his bones. Light filtered in through the clouds, not too bright which made it hard to pin down what time of day it was, though it did help revive his mind. He pushed himself up, the sand that was clinging to his loose white shirt and his skin washed away by the gentle shower. He stared at his clothing, confused. He was in loose white shirt, trousers and was missing his shoes. There was something staining his clothing, but it was washed away completely by the rain before he could identify what it was.

What the 'ell is going on? Where am I? I don' recognize an'thin' about this place. Did Houlihan send me here? Link frowned, squinting around him. There was water that was covered in ripples, but he couldn't see much even though the rain was a light shower. The sand under him was greyish white, the tree behind him skeletal with smooth, dark brown bark. He stood up, stretching as he puzzled what had happened. He wasn't worried, for once. He couldn't really remember anything concrete. Where's Reno? Where're my weapons 'n armor?

The blond ran his fingers through his soaked hair, turning in a complete circle as he tried to figure out where he was. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw himself standing in the water before him.

"What!" he squawked, grabbing at the empty air over his shoulder, then at his waist, more out of habit than anything. How the 'ell did he get so close without me hearing? "Who are you?!"

"Courage." The man replied in a quiet voice. Courage wore a green tunic and white leggings, sword hilt and the frame of a shield sticking up over the shoulder. There were hints of bronze chainmail peeking from under the tunic. It took Link a moment to realize that it was "Link" that had looked out of the mirror the first time after he dressed at the Hero of Time. The only difference was that Courage looked calm, capable and confident. Link, at the time, had been anything but.

Who names their kid 'Courage'? Why is he dressed in my stuff? Well, kinda looks like my stuff. Did he rob me? Why does he look like me? Link stared, a surreal sensation settling into him. His head whipped around at a clearing of a throat. Behind him was…himself, this time in blue and silver. The blue cloth was softer than the thick canvas Courage had. The tunic was longer, just past his knees, the silver mail lighter; arm and finger guards for archery. A quiver and bow were on his back, a thin rapier on his belt.

"I am Wisdom." The figure in blue informed the blond with a softer voice.

"And I am Power." A voice rumbled, jerking Link's attention in front of him. He hadn't even noticed Power! There stood himself in red and gold. The armour was heavier than Courage's and more impressive. A huge broadsword was strapped to his back. The figure was imposing, heavier in muscles where Wisdom was lither and Courage a comfortable middle.

All three were at the edge of the island, but not out of the water. Link's gaze flicked between them all, feeling increasingly alarmed and ready to bolt.

"Okay..." he started, holding up his hands slightly as if to stave them off. He looked between them warily as his mind raced to catch up. It was harder than it should have been. It was like his memories were called off, so he was just chasing his tail in his mind. "Where are we? Why are we here? What are you? Where are my clothes and weapons? How do I leave?"

"He is weak." Power sneered, as if Link hadn't even spoken. The teen bristled at the obvious snub, face going hard. The red clad blonde eyed Link as if the blonde thief were a bug. "How can you expect me to believe he is balanced when he is going to wet himself?"

"He doesn't know what's going on." Wisdom countered, giving the red figure a wilting look. "Your chosen has upset the balance."

"Stop talkin' like I'm some lack-wit ninny!" Link yelled, shocking the two into silence. Courage quirked a gold brow, choosing to remain silent as the thief panted and looked among them. "I'm still tryin' to remember 'ow I got here. We're all stuck in the same boat, so how 'bout we work together to get out instead of y'all actin' like know-it-all jackasses?"

"You'll remember when you leave." Wisdom told the thief and blatantly disregarding the rest of Link's comments, flicking an imaginary bit of fluff from his immaculate sleeve. Link blinked, realizing that the rain had stopped, but he couldn't recall when.

"You're not bein' very useful." The blonde teen growled and eyed Wisdom distrustfully, making an about face and nearly crashing into a figure behind him. Link jumped back, the figure mirroring him exactly. It was him…again. This time made entirely out of shadows with red, glowing eyes. The Shadow Link gave a malicious smile, pulling a sword with his right and arming his left with a shield.

"Oh, come on! Really!?" The exasperated teen cried, jumping back as the Shadow leapt at him, landing with a wet plop in the sand where the thief had been standing a moment ago. Link was still weaponless and lacking armour. He felt naked. Water sprayed as he hastily rolled into the shallow water in a panicked move to dodge another strike. "You three jus' gonna stand there?! Throw me a weapon! A shield! Anything! He's tryin' ta kill me!"

He didn't receive an answer and he ceased to care as he dodged and weaved around the black blade that whistled through the air. Link stumbled onto the island, falling on his back. His fingers clutched the sand, curling around something round and hard. He jerked up a baton, grabbing the other end to catch the blade before it could strike him down. The Shadow Link snarled, Link growling back, his arms shaking under the pressure as the blade bit into the wood to find the lead core. Link let the Shadow bear down over him, leaning into the thief. The blonde rolled back, yanking up to pull the Shadow off balance. Link braced his feet onto the dark finger's stomach and flipped him. Link twisted the baton, the blade deep enough that he was able to rip it from the Shadow's grip.

Shadow Link grunted as his breath was knocked from his lungs, landing hard on his back. Before the Shadow could move, Link was on him, burying the blade and driving it deep into the Shadow's heart, the baton still caught on the blade. There was a breathless 'UGHN!' before light broke through the wound, ripping the Shadow Link apart.

The sword burst into ashes in the thief's hands and Link panted and swayed on his feet for a moment, shivering with leftover adrenaline. His mind was still scrambling to figure out what just happened. He stepped back; looking for the three that he'd almost forgotten existed. They were in formation, Power in front, Wisdom and Courage flanking just a step behind on the left and right respectively.

"Has he proven himself worthy, Power?" Wisdom asked as he looked at the red clad man, his voice bland. Courage looked downright smug, winking jauntily at the thief.

"He'll do." Power muttered grudgingly.

"Oh, joy of joys! What're y'all talkin' 'bout?" Link growled, advancing on the three. "Who and what are y'all an' where are we?"

"We told you who we are." Power replied slowly, as if Link were slow on the uptake. The long-eared blonde gave a very unimpressed face. Wisdom gave a small smile.

"We are the Power of the Gods, chosen." Wisdom informed him, who looked baffled still "This is unprecedented, I assure you, but there are extenuating circumstances that have brought this about. Normally we are not so…active. We are normally a passive element, but the balance has been tipped and she had little choice but to dabble as much as Power's chosen had to try to correct it."

"How nice. How 'bout where we are, now?" Link gritted through his teeth but Wisdom looked up towards the heavens.

"Oh, my. You should probably return before they kill you, chosen." Wisdom urged. Link blinked, confused until he realized the scenery was draining away, crumbling like sand.

A/N: Okay, been a while. I would like to thank Lignite, who lit the fire under my tail again. I've started on the last chapter. Not sure how long it will take. I didn't have a beta-reader for this, so please, please, PLEASE feel free to correct me on any errors I may have failed to catch or inconsistencies. Thank you so much!

Update: Fixed some errors, also realized there were no lines between transitions. No wonder there was confusion! I added a bit more dialogue, though I didn't change too much with everything before he meets the Triforce.

Update: Fixed more spelling errors. Still working on the last chapter.