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She had nearly missed him. The fairy boy would be walking into a heap of trouble he wouldn’t be able to fathom. Not that she had been able to foresee anything near what was occurring. The future had eluded her, her dreams perhaps, nothing more than dreams. She turned in the grasp of her caretaker and launched the petite instrument with added oomph silently praying the man from the desert would pay him no notice.


The events that had led to her hasty escape had come about in a fashion that would haunt her mind for some time. What was more, the way she had watched, calm, methodical, not in the least bit surprised as her father’s blood pooled around the throne, the desert king laughing, grasping the dying king by the throat, not the slightest sign of mercy upon his face. Her features were stone, her body as stiff as a board. And then her attendant was tugging at her, pulling her away from the window.


Her mind snapped and she struggled. They couldn’t leave yet, not without the flute. If he got to that then all hope would be lost and the land would most certainly fall into darkness.


She swallowed hard and took in a deep breath, “Prepare the horse, I will meet you at the gate.” She freed herself from her attendants clutches and turned dashing back towards her garden before a protest could be voiced. She stopped at the door and looked back; “We must obtain the Ocarina of Time. If Ganandorf claims that he will be able to cross into the sacred land.”


Her attendant nodded. “Go then, I will wait.”


She darted towards her father’s chambers. To the chest at the foot of the bed, and inside of it to the polished deku box tucked away in the corner. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage; she had seen the flute many times, heard its soft melody and yet, for the first time acknowledged its power. Tears welled in her reluctant eyes as she pulled it from the box and tucked it away in the folds of her skirts.


Making it to the front of the castle unnoticed would be a challenge. The fairy boy had made it in without notice, if he could get in there was nothing to say she couldn’t get out. After all, anything he could do she could as well, but then again, the man from the desert would be looking for her. She hugged the wall, the last bit of daylight filtering through the stained glass windows casting shadows deep enough for her to seek refuge.


She worked herself to the entranceway; the doors to the front of the castle, to her sanctuary were only meters away. She sucked in her breath and bunched her skirts up in her hand. She ran, as fast as her feet would carry her, they were there, and she would make it, only a few more steps-


She heard the laugh before she registered his appearance, right in her path. The desert king was at her a moment later; tearing and clawing at her, rabid like a beast. She shrieked and kicked at his torso, aiming lower but coming up unsuccessful. He pressed his weight into her and pinned her down.


His smile pierced her soul and she felt a chill run up her spine. “I nearly forgot about you little one.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “To think, this whole time it was you who was plotting against me. Oh? Didn’t know that I knew, silly little girl.” His breath was hot on her cheek. For the first time she understood what fear was. She had felt what she would describe as fear but never like this, never in such a way that made her scared not for death but for what may occur before death.


She didn’t speak, didn’t move, nothing to provoke his attention. But he was there and he was making his presence known no matter how tightly her eyes were clasped shut. “Too young still little one, but one day you’ll be just right. I’ll have you then, you and all of Hyrule at my feet.”


He pressed his lips to hers, and she cried out. He laughed aloud, “The princess Zelda, the pet of the king of Hyrule. What a grand day that will-“the desert king cried out in pain as a blade was brought down into his left shoulder. Zelda looked passed Ganandorf to the man behind him, a guard entirely anonymous.


He was quivering in fear, she could see it. Ganandorf growled and turned towards the man. “Run princess, quickly.” She didn’t need to be told twice. She gathered herself up; the flute was still in its place, protected by magic from the weight that the desert king had pressed into it. She moved around the men to the door.


The desert king had flung the smaller man into the wall, had pulled the sword from his shoulder and driven it deep into its owner’s gut. Zelda screamed. Her legs were shaking and she found herself glued to the spot, the door to the outside world right next to her. Ganandorf turned from the writhing guard and beckoned to Zelda. “Come back to me my pet.”


She shook her head and pulled on the lever, dusk erupting in the dark hall. She was in her attendant’s clutches again and they were off leaving the castle behind them, the horse beneath them young, and strong. He would follow soon enough. “We have to stop, we have to go to the temple of time, the boy with the fairy is going to meet us there.” She instructed. But her attendant paid no heed and continued through the market, the steed galloped faster. “Didn’t you hear me?” she cried. “We have to-“


“We don’t have time anymore princess.”


The words were cutting. She turned back facing forward on the horse when she caught him out of the corner of her eye. The fairy boy was approaching slowly, the blue bulb of light bobbing around his head. He saw her first, confusion heavy on his brow. She decided then. She pulled the flute free and threw it at him. Their eyes didn’t meet again as she took hold of the horse’s mane and held her eyes closed.


She watched him in her mind. He was tossed aside like a discarded toy. The desert king had laughed at him and continued on in her direction. The fairy boy was smarter than Ganandorf could have guessed and instead of following on foot turned his attention instead to the object she had thrown at him. It had fallen in the moat, resting at the bottom. The magic had weighed it down and kept it from floating down into the gutters. She was thankful for that.


The fairy boy retrieved it and began to play. She came to him then, and her instructions were simple. It was a matter of getting there, getting to the sacred item before their enemy did. The song older than the royal family was passed to him and she left him once more. Sleep came hard and fast but her mind was alive, recounting the events of the late afternoon and early evening, replaying the way that blood looked and smelled, the sounds of the screams and the laughter emanating from a heart as black as coal.


She shivered as the wind whipped around them. She didn’t know if they were still being followed and found herself too exhausted to care any longer. When the sudden electricity hit here, the feeling as the realms were being torn at she knew he had left their trail long ago in favor of the fairy boy. She could feel the sacred power being ripped apart as real as if it were her mind being torn in half. She clenched her jaw in her dreams and felt her body alive with fire. And then it was there on her right hand, the simple golden triangle. The power had split itself and the doorway had been sealed, the desert king forced to remain where he was.


Her attendant held her close as she twisted in her sleep nearly slipping from their horse twice. And then she sighed and her body relaxed, the rush and flurry of power exchanged for warm deep darkness. She embraced this and rested her mind pondering only momentarily what fate had befallen the fairy boy, the one rumored to be the legendary hero of time.


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