Chapter One: Extraction

“Easy there… try to hold still Link.”
Link cried out in a sudden spasm of pain.
He was in a private hospital bed in Hyrule Castle. Although he knew the importance of this operation, he wasn’t sure if he would have accepted it if he had known that the procedure was so painful.
It was a few months since his return to his timeline. After explaining to Zelda what had happened to Ganondorf, she agreed that he would be able to escape with his control over the Triforce Piece of Power. After hours of pouring over dusty Triforce volumes, with Impa, they discovered a way to neutralize his attempts. If they transferred the location of their Triforce pieces to the Sacred Realm, the power emitting from theirs would be able to subdue and control Ganondorf’s attempts with his Triforce. Their connection would still remain, only not nearly as effective and they could never obtain its full potential. Deciding it was for the best, both Link and Zelda agreed to allow Impa to attempt the method of extraction on them. Zelda had gone first, and had no problems.
Link’s, however, was turning horrendous.
His vision suddenly exploded from Impa’s concerned face to fire; great waves pummeling into his mind. He was screaming, but the torrents of fires extinguished all sounds. Then out of the flames came Ganondorf, hands out stretched and flexing as if he was imaging crushing the boy’s skull.
“YOU FOOL, BOY! I KNOW YOU HAVE SOMETHING I WANT!” Roared the evil abomination, his voice echoing through his mind; Triforce blazing brighter then the flames. His arms widened out around him, threatening to engulf Link. Ganondorf laughed in triumph and Link was powerless to do anything.
Just as his hands grasped Link, a blast of light struck out at him, pushing the former Gerudo King back. Link watched, amazed, as the Triforce of Courage materialized from him and constructed a cage around the Dark Warlord.
Ganondorf growled and intensified his power, but all was in vain when Zelda’s Triforce of Wisdom joined the battle. Together the two holy relics pushed Ganondorf farther away, only his cries of rage escaping his prison. Link began falling into darkness, conscience ebbing.
“Zelda! Catch him!” Impa shouted.
The Princess of Destiny dove under Link’s body from her chair as he fell from his bed; her hand catching his head before it smashed against the stone floor.
“It’s okay now, Link,” she said soothingly, cradling his limp body. “It’s all over now.”
Link’s vision returned to see her small face smiling back at him. He gave a final sigh, and let unconsciousness take him.
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Only a week later, Link was finally ready to be up on his feet again. Ten year-olds recover fast, apparently, for Impa was certain most adults would have been out for at least a month, and continued bedding him.
“I’m fine; let me stretch my legs for a bit. I’m not still sick!” Link complained as she fluffed his pillow. “You try staying in some small room for a week. I need fresh air, I need some sun, and I need-”
Link’s words were cut off as Impa picked him up by the back of the shirt and carried him off to the bathroom. She slammed the door shut and locked it.
“Fine, go out. Zelda will accompany you, but above all others, you really need a bath.” Ignoring Link’s wails of distress, she went off to file some important papers.
“Don’t worry Link. That soap makes you smell, uh, good,” Zelda confirmed as she walked with Link in the Castle grounds, trying to hide her smirk of his herbal essence perfume soap smell. She almost fell as he adjusted his wait on her as he tried to look at her. A week in bed weakens the muscles quite a bit for a while and he needed Zelda as a sort of crutch.
He snarled, “Don’t try to fool me! This stuff makes me feel feminine. No hero should have to face this sort of ridicule!”
She glanced around. There had been a storm during the past week, and much of the ground was still muddy. A sudden sinister idea crept into her mind.
“Fine, have it your way. If you don’t want to smell like a nice, normal, girl, you better smell like a normal, disgusting, boy.” She heaved him off her shoulder.
Thunk! Splat! Link rolled onto his back, surveying the damage. He glared up at his mocker, spewing a fountain of mud from his mouth.
“You want to play rough, huh? Well let this be a lesson; never try to beat a guy at his own game.” His arm swung up, firing a fist full of mud at her face. She shrieked, diving into the mud and picking up her own pile, splattering more at him.
A near by guard watched their antics uneasily, wondering if he should arrest the boy on the charge of assaulting the princess. He relented, deciding that mud was a non-lethal weapon, and it was probably her idea anyway. He continued to watch them nonetheless.
After a while, the combatants both lade back, utterly exhausted. Resembling mud monsters more then children, they slowly peeled themselves up, mud still dripping off them. Link was already much stronger on his feet, but still excepted Zelda’s hand for support.
“Oh, you can expect Impa will love this, huh?” said Zelda casually.
Link groaned; he knew what that meant.
Another bath.
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The funny part was, he didn’t even like the reptilian creatures. But if his plan was to work, the Warlord knew he would need to rely on an outside force. This were the perfect specimen for the job; quick, agile, warlike and with enough anger and hate towards the Hyrule nations to do what ever it took to accomplish their goals.
After weeks of bitter negotiations and forceful “persuasions”, Ignatius, King of Brakius and Warlord of the Living Scourge met face to face with the tyrannical last War-Chief, Rizakis of the Reptalfos in his shadowy throne room. He had the largest clan, and none of the other chieftains were willing to join without Rizakis’ support as well.
He glared his contact right into the pair of flaming orange eyes. As if trying to taste the human’s fear, Rizakis’ tongue slowly slithered in and out of his mouth while lounging in his human skin laden throne. Ignatius was not impressed, but tried to stay courteous.
“Hail, War-Chief Rizakis. I hope time has found you well,” Ignatius recited, giving a low bow. “For I call upon you for a grand act, a devious act, a heroic act.”
“Do not takess me for a fool, sssilly humanzy,” The War-Chief growled in his thick reptilian tongue. “If it was anything left, I wouldz havse my sssoldiers eat you alivse on my doorstepze. I would of not have wazted my time hearingz a fool sspeak of war.” His face loomed eerily in the torchlight. “Why ssshould we helpze you?”
Ignatius grew an equally large scowl on his face. “And I did not come here to listen to debates I have already discussed with dozens of your diplomats. As I have already said, you shall be able to live anywhere in my new lands under my rule so you can leave these vile mountain ranges of smog and famine, and sink your teeth into fresh, fertile soils. I only ask for your armies to aid me, and a small portion of about 10 percent of your mineral mines.”
The Reptalfos had been living in a desolate land of dead rocky areas for centuries, digging into the voluptuous mountains in search of metals and engaging in constant warfare with each other over tribal disputes and limited resources. Some ventured out into the surrounding world as skilled mercenaries, but that was as far as their communication went.
The Reptalfos’ eyes narrowed in consideration, as if this was the first time he had been told these terms. Ignatius waited patiently on his knee, knowing that if he got to impatient with their ruler, Rizakis’ guards would attempt to tear him to pieces. Attempt to do so, anyways, but the seriousness was that the contract would be exterminated and Ignatius would still have to get out of the fortress. This had to be taken care of delicately and seriously.
Finally, after what seemed to be eternity, Rizakis rose. He snapped his scaly claws in impatient orders.
“Risk! Find me my swordz. Thenz clean it thzoughly. Hiache, find the Knife of Binding. Kiache! Assemblze my armour andz clean itz. Iz’fahn, bringz me thee Itemz of Rightz!”
These servants quickly rose from their kneeling positions and hastened to their duties, not wanted to stretch their War-Chief’s temper. Unfortunately for one, he tripped upon getting up.
Rizakis growled lowly in contempt, and faster then the eye could perceive, whipped out a throwing crescent, nailing the luckless servant fatally in the back. Several guards rose and carried the body to a compost centre. Nodding his head dismissively, the rest of the occupants quickly left.
Soon, the dusky throne room was empty. Rizakis slowly stalked over to where Ignatius was still kneeling. A sharp claw rested on his shoulder.
“Show me your planz, and the Alliance shall be madez. My troops canz be ready for extraction in the nextis few weekz.”
“Weeks!” Ignatius said incredulously, a small, sinister, smile escaping. Perceiving Rizakis’ motives, he replied, “No need to be hasty, my Lord. In fact, I was thinking about years…”
Slowly he slid his file of notes and preparations to the Reptalfos, stretching the brilliance of his ambitious mind to a psychotic maniac, and beginning one of the most great, but terrible events the world would ever encounter.