Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.

Soul Secrets

Chapter 1

The wind howled across the plains as the storm gained strength, the light drizzle that had wet the early evening turning into a heavier downpour. As the wind gained speed, the rain turned horizontal. Thunder roared overhead and lightning struck something in the distance, illuminating the land for an instant. Dead grass and trees, charred bones of homes and other buildings...and out there, a distant point of light—the capital city of Hyrule.

The fire burned brightly and cheerfully, but the group gathered around it was quiet and solemn. They were here for a purpose, taking refuge at an old, abandoned farmstead until the time was right. The roof overhead leaked, a small stream making its way down a wall and into the old, rotten hay. They listened to the weather, the seven of them gauging the distance from the storm's centre by timing the thunder and lightning.

They wore nondescript cloaks and cowls, their hoods drawn tight over their heads. Even though they had yet to speak, they knew each other by their gaits and sizes, and there was no need to reveal their faces. Beneath their cloaks, they were all armed. None had been forced to kill in this country yet, but they were prepared for it at any moment.

The air smelled of smoke and damp and mildew, and the old wood creaked dangerously whenever the wind got hold of it, trying to tear the barn down. They knew not what had caused the inhabitants of this place to leave. Likely, it was the weather. Nothing grew in these parts anymore, and the storms grew worse and worse. It was the same everywhere. Something fundamental had been changed the night the sky turned red and the earth shook, the oceans rose and the world burned. It had been over quick enough, but the effects could still be felt, even now.

The barn doors were thrown open, and six pairs of eyes snapped to look at them. The intruder was silhouetted against the backdrop of a lightning strike, their features obscured by the cloak, hood and cowl. The six around the fire calmed upon seeing who it was, and their hands left the hilts of their weapons, unseen beneath their clothes.

The newcomer remained standing in the doorway, studying the others for a few seconds. It lifted a hand and motioned for the others to join them. As one, they rose from the fire and followed the newcomer out and into the rain. The wind was nearly strong enough to grab them now, and it would likely get even worse by night's end, as they usually did. They walked to the edge of the farmstead, pausing at the top of the hill where the road continued in a zigzagging line into the landscape, invisible in the darkness. They gathered in a close circle, and the newcomer raised a hand. An invisible barrier formed around them, a globe of calm and tranquillity. The wind passed around them, silent. The rain stopped several feet above their heads, sliding harmlessly on the air and to the ground.

"Ah, that's better," the newcomer said, his voice clearly male. He sounded serious, but there was a slightly playful edge to it, as if one could hear the smile on his face. "Brothers and sisters, it is good to see you again. It has been too long."

The others nodded, murmuring their own greetings. These were the first words they had spoken to each other ever since arriving at the farmstead one by one during the day. Only one added something to the conversation, and she sounded annoyed.

"You're late," she told him.

"My apologies," he said. "I was held up at the border. They had the audacity to ask for my papers."

"You killed them?" rumbled the heaviest-set of the cloaked travellers.

"What other choice did I have?" the newcomer said. "I carry nothing, after all. They were quick deaths, and clean."

"Good," was the rumbling reply.

"Have we learned the truth, at last?" asked the second female member of the group. Her speech sounded more like singing, rising and falling in tone and pitch. There was a slight glitter of scales within the recesses of her hood.

"We have come as close as we can without taking action, yes," the newcomer said. He held out his other hand, and a small ball of fire began to burn brightly in it, heating the sphere of isolation. "We know for certain that Hyrule is responsible. They have sown death all over the world."

"Deliberately?" asked one of the others.

"Most likely not," he admitted. "However, if the truth is as it appears, they are responsible and action must be taken. We have an obligation to see justice done...and restore order. The latter is our primary goal, but Hyrule will make it difficult to achieve that."

"So we get rid of Hyrule?" said the last female member of the group, a prominent western accent on her speech. "While certainly a tempting prospect, putting an entire kingdom to the sword will be...difficult."

"And a waste of time that we do not have," he replied. "The world is dying, and we cannot afford to fight a lengthy war. We have neither the resources nor the numbers. But we do not need to burn the country and kill its people to break its back." He laughed. "No, Hyrule's identity is and has always been in its royal family. Get rid of them, and Hyrule will bow."

"There is only one member of the royal family still alive," said a fifth member of the group. He was tall and wiry, and his voice scratchy. "The princess, Zelda."

"And she has yet to take a husband," said a sixth. "It is rumoured she consorts with her personal bodyguard instead."

"The Sheikah?" asked the singing woman.

"He is no longer her bodyguard," corrected the newcomer. "Though he remains close at hand, residing in Kakariko. He has built a fortress there, apparently. It does not matter who the princess spends her nights with—what matters is that she is vulnerable and weak. With no husband and no heirs to succeed her, Hyrule rests on the edge of a knife."

"So we kill her," said the burly one.

"No, that will too dangerous," said the newcomer. "We will risk the entire kingdom rising against us, a fight we cannot win. At least, not yet. Why assassinate someone when you can simply assassinate their character instead? I learned something very interesting when I passed through the city states of Lumina, and I believe that it will help us immensely."

"A smear campaign?" asked the westerner.

"Exactly."

"Will that be enough?" asked the tall one.

"If conducted at the right time and under the right conditions, certainly," said the newcomer, and their leader. "A few words, and the rest will happen by itself. Our task will be to create those conditions, and we start tonight."

"Already?"

"Like I said, we cannot afford to waste time. It will be a two-pronged offensive." He turned to the wiry one. "Take fifteen of your men and make your way inside the city. Cause as much damage as possible and sow the seed of doubt that will be the princess' ultimate undoing."

"And what seed is that?"

He handed him a letter. "Open and read it once we disperse. Write it on the walls, carve it in their flesh, shout it at the top of your lungs; I don't care how you get the words out as long as they are left in the city. I want to send a message."

"And the second prong?" asked the singer.

"A different seed," the leader said, holding up a scroll. "Not one of growth, but of decay." He unrolled it, showing the others the mysterious letters and diagrams drawn upon it.

"Are you certain about this?" asked the burly one. "The last time we attempted that, we lost control of the entire region."

"I have learned from my past mistakes," the leader assured them. "I will not lose control this time. And even if I do, what does it matter? It will only serve to weaken Hyrule even more, making our job easier." He looked at the one member of the group that had yet to speak. "What do you say?" he asked. "Will it serve as an incursion?"

The silent one did not say anything, but offered a minuscule nod in approval of the plan.

The leader nodded back. "It is settled then."

"What will the rest of us do while he's off killing and burning?" asked the westerner.

"You will infiltrate the rest of the kingdom, but do nothing until I contact you. Assume new identities and take jobs if you can. I will send word to the others and tell them to make their way across the border. It is important that we keep moving and ensure that no one discovers who we are, or we will all be killed. You have your assignments, and I wish you the best of luck."

With that said, the sphere of protection was dispelled, and they were once again at the mercy of the wind and rain. The group dispersed quickly, some taking the road towards Castle Town, while others did not. The leader remained standing on the hill, watching the distant lights of the capital, smiling grimly under his hood. It had been a long time coming, but Hyrule's reckoning was finally here. Casting a smaller protective sphere about himself, he unfurled the spell scroll again and studied its words and diagrams. Slowly, he turned in the direction of the nearest village, and began to concentrate. It was a difficult bit of magic, but he was almost certain of how it should go now.

Taking a deep breath, he begun weaving, altering the world as he saw fit, bending it to its will.

Yes, it was finally time.

The chamber was filled with the sounds of battle, the air heavy and thick. Torches burned, casting flickering shadows everywhere, barely enough to illuminate the room. The sound of steel against steel echoed in the room, punctuated by pained grunts as the combatants scored hits against each other, growling and hissing.

One pair of fighters stood out in particular, their movements more frenzied, more fluid than the others'. They circled each other, lashing out whenever they thought they had an advantageous position, throwing feints and parrying with precision. They matched each other perfectly, neither of them gaining ground against the other.

Then it happened. One of them tripped on the edge of the rug, not falling but ruining their balance. The other fighter saw an opening and went for a thrust to the other's gut. The one that had tripped lashed out blindly and desperately, and caught the other's blade inches from their stomach. Their grip on the blade was loose, and both swords went clattering to the floor.

"Enough!"

As one, the combatants stopped, sheathed their weapons, drew back their hoods and turned to face their master. Young and red-faced from the exertion, they waited with dreadful anticipation—they were only stopped when they made mistakes. They watched as their master paced back and forth in front of them for a while, studying each of them closely. Only one of his eyes worked, they knew, but the red orbs were still a frightful sight to behold as they raked over them, searching for the tiniest of flaws, and Goddesses help them should he spot one...

"You have all improved greatly," the master said, nodding to them. "However, the two of you..." he stopped in front of the pair that had disarmed each other. "You are still too reckless. Your purpose is to protect the realm and give your life if necessary, but as long as it's possible you should preserve it as well."

"I was going for his gut, just like you taught us!" the one who hadn't tripped, a blonde girl of sixteen years, protested. Her blue eyes glared at her partner. "That strike would have been suicidal in real life!"

"I was trying to save my life!" the sixteen-year-old boy argued back. His black hair was matted with sweat, and his green orbs were shining in the torchlight. "Just like you said, master!"

"Quiet," the master said, shaking his head and wondering why he had to be saddled with children like these. "You both made fatal errors. You pressed your attack too early," he told the girl. "And you lost awareness of your surroundings. Both these mistakes will get you killed...or horribly maimed, if you're lucky." His eyes left the two and watched the other four pairs of fighters. These were his oldest students, on the cusp of being put on active duty. He wondered if they were ever going to be ready... "You, Rafe, your grip on your sword is much too tight. It should be a natural extension of your arm, not a blunt object to be waved around like a primitive."

"Sorry, master," Rafe said, bowing his head.

The master said nothing for a whole minute, his students waiting for another tongue-lashing. Today's had been rather mild, and they were half-expecting him to launch into a tirade...and it seemed he would. He drew a deep breath, opened his mouth and—

The doors at the end of the hall opened, and two people entered the training chamber. Their reactions were prompt, and they all kneeled, even their master.

"Your Majesty," the master said.

"Oh, stop that, all of you," Princess Zelda of Hyrule said as she and her bodyguard, Tira Siress, came closer. She was wearing a simple outfit, a tunic and trousers. The only thing that could identify her as royalty was the golden circlet she wore. She walked with a slight limp, aided by a metal cane. The students knew it contained a wickedly sharp blade with which she was more than proficient. She had a gentle smile on her face, which contrasted sharply with the neutral expression on her bodyguard's face. Tira Siress, unlike the princess, was in full armour and ready for combat at any second, her eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. She was devoted to the princess, to a degree that only the master could match. "Please, rise. Don't stop on account of me."

"I was just about to lecture them," the master said, looking slightly frustrated that his rant had been interrupted before it could even start.

"Ah, so I didn't interrupt anything important, then," the princess said, beaming at his students. "I'm sure you're all progressing fantastically, despite what he may want you to believe."

"Can I help you?" the master asked.

"Actually, I would like to speak with you, if I may. In private."

"Certainly," the master said, turning to his students. "You are dismissed for the day. Return to your chores."

The students bowed and left the training hall in a single file, carefully shutting the door to the rest of the building behind them.

"My, they certainly are disciplined," Zelda said. "Reminds me of you when you were that age." She didn't let him answer; only sniffed and turned to the entrance doors. "Can we speak outside? It smells a bit...ripe in here."

"I will have them air it out tomorrow," he replied as they walked to the doors and left the chamber. The air outside was cold and brisk, and they remained on the balcony overlooking the courtyard, where several of the younger students were doing their physical exercises of the day, led by one of the older ones. The day was overcast, and a slightly gloomy atmosphere hung over the town of Kakariko.

They watched the routines for a while, neither of them saying anything.

"You don't seem surprised to see me," Zelda said, turning to him. "Almost like you were expecting me."

"I was," Sheik admitted, keeping a close eye on his students. "I have scouts all over the lands outside the town, and a royal escort isn't exactly difficult to spot."

"Do you know why I am here, though?"

Sheik shook his head, sighing. "Apart from trying to undermine my training?" he asked wryly. "I assume it has something to do with the border guards who were murdered two nights ago?"

"That is one of the issues, but there was another one I had in mind, in fact," she told him.

"Which is?"

She looked around them, ensuring that no one in the courtyard was watching before wrapping her arms around him and drawing him close. "Happy birthday, little brother."

Sheik tensed slightly, but returned the embrace, cursing himself for forgetting such a thing. "Thank you," he said as they withdrew, feeling awkward. "I had...forgotten."

"Like you do every year," she said, laughing. "Twenty-five years old...how does it feel?"

"Not much different from twenty-four, to be honest," he admitted. "Not like Link at all."

He grinned slightly at that. His husband had not taken his twenty-fifth birthday very well, for some reason. He had never specified why he'd been so upset that day, but it was clearly something upsetting.

"I have yet to extract the truth about that day from him," Zelda said, shaking her head. "Especially since his twenty-sixth passed without issue."

"Maybe he has a fear of certain numbers?" Tira suggested.

"Goddesses know."

There was an awkward pause as the words sank in. It had been difficult to talk about the deities after the events of Lumina seven years earlier. It passed quickly, however, and Zelda broke the silence.

"Speaking of your husband, any word?" she asked.

"Not since he passed through Termina and visited Kaura and the others," Sheik said.

"That was six weeks ago," she said. "Aren't you worried?"

Sheik shrugged. "Not really. Link doesn't like going to the cities all that much, he prefers the wild. That doesn't allow for sending many messages, and Kaiza has a lot of trouble tracking him." He leaned on the balcony railing, looking down at Kakariko. The village had expanded greatly in the past few years, especially after the stronghold had been built on top of the Shadow Temple, the Sheikah seat of power. The village belonged to him, now, and it was his job to protect it.

"I wish he wouldn't leave so often," Zelda said, joining him. "I miss him."

"As do I," Sheik said. "But that's who Link is. Wanderlust grabbed him when he left the Kokiri Forest, and it never let go. I have duties that keep me here, but I would not dream of forcing him to stay. He's not meant to stay behind walls for so long." He smiled, remembering the last time they'd seen each other. "I'm sad that he leaves...but he always comes back, and that keeps me going. And if I get really impatient, Kaiza usually does find him eventually, and I usually tell her to peck him until he comes home."

Zelda and Tira laughed at that.

"So, you would like me to investigate the border?" he said.

"If it is not too much trouble," she replied. "The only thing I know so far is that the guards were killed with magic."

"Very well, I will ride there first thing in the morning."

"You won't use a deku nut?"

"They have...ceased to work that way, you know that," he said. "Feror's tampering with the world saw to that."

"It did more than that," Zelda said, looking up at the sky. It was a pale green. "The ash rains are becoming more frequent in the south, I have been told. The storms are getting worse. Last week, an entire fishing village was torn apart by a freak tidal wave. It pushed inland for five miles."

He had nothing to say to that. What was there to say, really, about the fact that the world had been so irrevocably damaged that it seemed to be trying to destroy itself?

"Are you staying the night?" he asked.

"If you would have me," she answered.

"Then the hospitality of Kakariko is yours," he said, smiling. "I will have rooms prepared."

"I can do that mys—"

"No, no, I insist," he interrupted her. "The students need something with which to occupy their time, and I'm sure they will relish in the chance to be of service to their princess."

"Like you?" she suggested, laughing.

"I would say I'm a bit more fanatical," he said, playing along. "That's what the rumours say, anyway. I'm surprised they haven't accused me of climbing into your bed yet."

"That's my job," Tira said.

"And you do it fantastically," Zelda assured her.

"And there goes my appetite," Sheik groaned.

"Oh, shut up, you," the princess said, slapping his shoulder. "I didn't say anything when you and Link were going at it rather loudly in the next room."

"We were teenagers! And you made such a ruckus about it afterwards!"

The activities in the courtyard stopped as the students looked up at them, wondering what had caused their master's outburst. A few of them were giggling amongst themselves, and Sheik made a note of their names for his big, mental ledger of punishment.

"Back to work, all of you, or it's extra kitchen duties for everyone!" he shouted. They continued their practice immediately, all too aware of how serious their master's threats were.

Zelda clicked her tongue. "So serious," she said teasingly. "How old are they?" she asked, indicating the students.

"Twelve," Sheik replied. "And already they are getting too smart for their own good."

"I'm surprised you're even doing this in the first place," she admitted. "I expected you to turn me down and absolutely refuse to train them."

"The only reason I accepted was because you gave me full control and let me set my own terms. No one under ten, only volunteers who fully understand what they are getting themselves into, no active duty before seventeen...and letting me end it at any time I see fit should the program turn out to be a failure."

"I remember the night I suggested it," she said. "You flew into a rage because you thought I was trying to create another Sheikah order. I thought you would say no anyway, if only because of what happened with Mugen and the others."

"I recognise the need for spies," Sheik said, emphasising the word. "That's why I am not training them to be assassins. What happened with Mugen...they started their training too late, and they weren't prepared for everything that could be thrown in their way. I won't make the same mistake with these."

"I understand," she said. "I never said they were to be assassins. Just reliable information gatherers." She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I won't send them into danger they cannot handle, I promise you that."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I hear you're preparing to graduate your first students."

"Yes, the ones in the hall when you arrived," he said. "They were twelve when they first came here..."

"You're worried about them," she observed.

"How can I not be? They are my responsibility, and I am not my aunt. Half the time I feel incompetent as a teacher, and I cannot help but wonder if there is something I have forgotten, that they are unprepared for the hardships they will face in the future. I find myself wanting to postpone the ceremony, just to ensure that they're truly ready, but..."

Her hold on him tightened. "You cannot account for everything, Sheik, and I am sure you've done an excellent job," she told him. "Impa probably felt the same way when she was forced to put you on active duty...and you did absolutely fine."

"Out of necessity," he said. "And with a great deal of luck."

"I thought you didn't believe in luck," she said.

"After everything I have experienced and survived, it's difficult not to. Even if there is no divine presence out there to watch over me, there is definitely something, because I have not lived on skill alone."

"Nevertheless, you are still here, and I daresay you have trained them to the best of your ability—which is more than enough for the tasks they will be put to." She smiled. "I promise, they will not be put in mortal danger."

"No assassinations," he said firmly.

"No assassinations," she agreed.

The green-clad warrior dipped his hands into the stream and lifted a handful up to his face, sniffing at it. After deeming it clean, he took a sip. He smiled and filled his flask, drinking deeply from it. He whistled, and his horse joined him by the stream, both having their fill of the cold, clean water.

The forest was thick around them, barely allowing any light through the thick foliage above. The air was close and smelled of rot—half of the woods were dying, and he was trying to figure out why.

The horse snorted and bumped its muzzle against the side of the warrior's head, snorting uncomfortably.

"I know," he reassured it. "I feel it too."

Something about the place made him uncomfortable, and greatly so. Every forest he had ever visited had always made him feel invigorated and at peace, but this one...this one smelled of death and harboured darkness instead of life. He was surprised he'd even found this stream, as all the other sources of water he'd encountered so far had been dirty and liable to kill him were he to drink it.

He filled two more flasks and placed them in the saddlebag, retrieving an apple from a sack and offered it to the horse. It chewed the apple with gusto, the atmosphere temporarily forgotten as it enjoyed the treat. The warrior grabbed one for himself, savouring the sweetness as he studied the spaces between the trees ahead of them. The path was getting narrower, and he had a feeling it would be too tight for his horse further ahead. Was it worth it to investigate, knowing that danger most likely lurked ahead?

A branch somewhere within the trees snapped.

He had his bow out and an arrow drawn within a second, aiming at the source of the noise. He tensed, waiting. Something was watching him, he knew the feeling, and he was staring right back. He held his breath, waiting for whatever it was to come charging out of the trees, aiming to kill him or something equally horrible.

Seconds turned into minutes, and his patience finally snapped, letting loose the arrow. It struck a tree trunk out of sight...and nothing happened.

Whatever had observed him was gone, having silently gone away. He breathed out, putting his weapons away and climbing into the saddle. He watched the path ahead, knowing moments like these were going to be numerous the farther in he got. He had no doubt he'd be able to defend himself, but the idea of leaving his mount here, all alone...

He turned around, heading back the way he came. Some risks were not worth it. Besides, he had seen a falcon circling overhead as he'd entered the woods, and he had a feeling it would start pecking at him if he kept it waiting any longer. It would be nice to have a letter from home again, he thought as he played with the silver ring on his left hand, the ruby shining darkly. He smiled and kicked the horse into a trot.

To be continued…

I guess I hate myself too much not to do this. The third Soul story has been started, everyone!