Chapter XIX: A Rainbow in Darkness

Link and Veil rode onward into the torrential downpour, away from the grim fates behind them at Hyrule Castle and into a shade of reality where a Hero became an Outlaw and the Innocent became the Guilty. The driving rain all but obscured the way ahead, limiting sight distance to mere feet. But it didn’t matter—they were directionless and unguided by forethought, running simply to escape, running because their lives depended upon it. They did not dare cast a glance over their shoulders, fearing that perhaps their eyes would be met with the sight of a fast-approaching legion sent to bring them back, to drag them to their dooms, kicking and screaming and professing their innocence.

Soon the horse began to tire, unable to run as fast or as far while bearing two riders. The pair was beset with dismay, until a dark shape appeared over the horizon: the high, sturdy walls Lon Lon Ranch.

Link brought the horse to a halt and dismounted, bidding Veil do the same. Once he was off, Link gave a sharp slap to the animal’s haunches, sending it galloping off into the rain. “They will be looking for the horse and its riders,” he shouted over the thunder. “We wouldn’t have gotten much farther, anyway. We’re better off hiding than running at this point.” And he took Veil’s hand in his own and pulled him through the gates of the ranch.

Link, who recalled the layout of the well-known horse farm through the memories of his first quest, quickly led Veil to the tool barn that sat secluded on the other side of the corral. Once the thick wooden door had been shut behind them, Navi flew out from underneath Link’s hat and shook the water from her body vigorously. In the pitch darkness of the barn, she was a glowing ball of light.

“I just cannot win,” she griped, flying about to dry herself. “I must be having a bad decade.”

“Look for a lantern, Navi,” Link said, “before Veil and I stumble and impale ourselves on a pitchfork or something.”

“What do you mean?” Veil said. “I can see you clearly.”

“What?”

“You’re standing no more than two feet from me, right next to that wooden post. Can’t you see me?” The shadow waved his hand in front of Link’s blind eyes but, as was suspected, the Hylian could not see him nor anything else.

“I’ll help Navi search,” Veil decided. “Stay where you are. There’s a plow to your left and if you step backward you’re going to fall.”

Link crossed his arms over his chest to keep warm and waited, watching the fairy’s halo of light momentarily illuminate her surroundings as she flew back and forth, scanning and investigating. Her aura suddenly glowed green with excitement and she exclaimed, “Found one!”

After some clanking and clattering, Veil appeared before Link in the dim light of Navi’s radiance and held the lantern out to him. “It has oil, but it just needs to be lit. Can you do it?”

Link grinned in the dark. “After that fireball I summoned in the temple, I just hope there’s enough of my energy left to make a spark.”

But exceeding his expectations, Link was able to summon a small flame from his palm and roll it down onto the tip of his finger like a droplet of water, where he then lit the wick of the lamp and turned it up. A bright orange glow lit up the barn, and finally revealed two rain-drenched and haggard looking young men, leaving puddles on the floor where they stood.

“Look at you,” Veil said softly, reaching over and wiping Link’s matted blond hair from his forehead with care. “You’re absolutely freezing.”

“Just need to get out of these wet clothes and we’ll be fine,” he replied, hanging the lamp on a nearby peg, then unbuckling his belt and wrestling off his soaked leather boots. Veil followed suit, wringing the water from his long tunic before removing it. They were both sopping wet, right down to the skin.

“I wish I’d been wearing my Zora tunic,” Link said with a smile and a shiver as he unstrapped his sword bandolier, set the scabbard aside, and peeled off his outer green layer, twisting it in his hands and creating another puddle on the floor.

“Me, too,” Navi agreed, flying over and cosying up to the lantern for warmth.

“I wish we’d had time to go back to the stables and pilfer a few things,” Link added dourly. “All of our supplies are back at Hyrule Castle.”

“Don’t worry,” the fairy said. “We’ll manage somehow.”

Link nodded faintly. “I suppose we’ll have to.”

Veil hung his dark gray tunic from a beam just above his head and removed his undershirt with a moist flapping sound, hanging it similarly and doing the same with Link’s tunic. He shook the water from his hands and combed his damp black hair out of his eyes, sighing heavily.

Link, who was in the process of removing his shirt, suddenly brushed his hand against something odd, and he pulled from beneath the wet cloth the silver pentacle that Veil had given to him before his thankfully-eluded execution.

“Here,” said the Hylian with an apologetic smile. “I believe this is yours.”

Veil smiled gently in reply and bowed his head, and Link stepped close and slipped the pendant around his neck. The silver star gleamed beautifully in the lamp light against the tan skin of Veil’s firm chest, and Link trailed his fingers across the cool metal, gazing first at the pentacle and then at the face of his twin, who stared back at him with colorless eyes, cold in shade but warm with emotion.

“I don’t know how you can forgive me for all of the heartless things I’ve done to you since we met,” said Link in a soft voice.

“Link,” the shadow murmured, pulling him into his wet arms and embracing him, “you have been pardoned of your wrongs long ago. The only person who hasn’t forgiven you is yourself.”

The Hylian’s face reflected his feelings of relief and admittance, and he wrapped his arms over Veil’s bare shoulders. “I know,” he said with a small grin. “I am the most difficult person I have ever negotiated with.”

The shadow chuckled softly and Link pulled away; as he did, his fingers brushed against the small cut on the back of Veil’s neck, where the blade of the Master Sword had once been poised. Veil winced slightly at the contact.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Link exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to touch it. Does it hurt badly?”

“No,” Veil replied with a smile. “It but stings a little.”

Link looked miserably guilty. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop asking for your forgiveness.”

“Don’t fret! It will heal.” Kindness sparkled deep within Veil’s gray eyes as he gently caressed Link’s cool cheek in his warm hand, and leaned over to press a shallow kiss to his brow.

Link drew in a slow breath and closed his eyes. “I hope,” he murmured, pulling away and gingerly tracing the discolored scar running across Veil’s right cheek. “I’ve already scarred your body enough with my ignorance.”

“Do not grieve anymore, Link, please,” said Veil firmly. “Stop dwelling upon unpleasant memories. I have learned to put the past behind me, for the present is a much fairer place to live.”

Link was quiet for a while. “I wish I had known you sooner,” he whispered, gazing sullenly into his shadow’s eyes. “You seem to be a part of me I lost long ago. The part of me that remembers what hope is, that never forgets how precious and beautiful life is, even in the ugliest of places. You are not my shadow, Veil—you are my rainbow. Every color of my soul has been poured into you, from the happiest memories of my childhood to the distant dreams of what the future holds for me.

“I want you to be a part of my future, Veil, from now until the end. I want to make the journey into tomorrow and tomorrow with you by my side, for I cannot imagine traveling the path without you there to remind me of what happiness and faith means. My friend. My brother.”

Veil took up his twin’s hands, leaned close and nuzzled his nose to Link’s, saying in a voice barely above a breath: “My love.”

The rain drummed upon the roof, rumbling dully in the silence after Veil’s words. Navi glowed a faint pink as she blushed, watching the scene unfold below. She decided that she should give them some privacy, and if anything she knew of people was correct, they would be most appreciative of her not witnessing the following series of events. She abandoned her post at the lamp and flew off to a far corner of the barn to search for a place to nest for the night.

Tentatively, Link pulled his wet shirt over his head and hung it on the beam, then stood before Veil bare-chested and cold, his flesh white and pebbly with goose bumps. They removed the rest of their soaked clothes in silence and draped them anywhere they could. Naked and chilled, Link shivered in the open air. Veil pulled him into his warm embrace, rubbing the clammy skin of his back in an effort to restore some heat to it.

“You’re still so cold,” worried the shadow. “We should find you a blanket before you freeze.”

“It is not that cold outside,” protested Link.

“I wouldn’t want you catching pneumonia.”

“You know what that is now?”

“Yes, Professor Eldwin told me,” said Veil matter-of-factly. “It’s a terrible infection, and we simply cannot risk you getting ill at this time. We’ve enough to worry about as it is, and besides, I don’t know how to look after a sick person.”

“Very well,” sighed Link, taking up the lantern. “I don’t know how you expect to find a blanket in a tool barn, but I do know for a fact that there’s a loft up above that’s always filled with hay. We’d do best to stay there for the night.”

In the corner of the barn there was a ladder which led up to a loft that was indeed covered with a thick carpet of hay; several bales sat stacked against the opposite wall, and it was surprisingly warm and dry. They were even fortunate enough to find a rough wool blanket, and while it smelled of horses and kerosene, it was better than nothing at all. Fresh hay was quite prickly and itchy against bare flesh, and at least it was something to ward off the nettlesome straws.

With the lamp hanging from the rafters above, Veil and Link sat with their backs against the bales in the dim light and listened to the steady rhythm of the pouring rain, sharing the blanket and grateful that they had shelter. Link rested his head upon Veil’s shoulder and let his mind wander, sighing gently from time to time as he thought of things he regretted or how difficult a time lay ahead of them now that they were wanted criminals. The shadow wrapped his arm about Link’s waist and said nothing for a long while, equally as pensive and worried about their fates.

“I hope Sheik doesn’t get punished for helping us,” Veil finally murmured. “Do you think he will be all right?”

“If Sheik is still who I think he is,” Link replied, “then yes, he will be fine.”

“Do you suppose his name is really Ilya?”

“I don’t know.” The Hylian’s expression grew pained. “I thought I knew him well, but . . . I guess it just goes to show that the Sheikah are and will always be a mysterious, secretive people.” He shivered suddenly and cuddled closer to Veil’s warm body.

A thought occurred to Link and he asked, with his cheek pressed to his shadow’s shoulder, “Does the cold not affect you, Veil? You are still so warm.”

“The only cold I feel is that of you,” Veil replied. “I feel nothing else. I still do not know many things which mortal men experience.”

Link, his thoughts having led again to what he had been pondering for quite some time, found the courage to ask in a timid voice: “Do you . . . know what it means to make love, Veil?”

“Make love?”

“Yes.”

“No, I . . . I don’t.” Veil paused, turning his head to gaze at Link, and saw the desire and longing that flowed deep in those cerulean irises. With their hearts open wide to one another, their thoughts mingled like eddying breezes, passing and exchanging and running back and forth. Through Link, as was done on their first encounter in the dark day before they were allies, Veil drew the worldly knowledge from his master’s gaze, and it was then that he caught his breath; for he understood the meaning, and he understood what Link was asking of him.

He withdrew his hand from around Link’s waist and pulled away. “I, I can’t,” he stammered worriedly, and his cheeks began to take color for the first time, a ruddiness that was made beautiful by contrast to his black hair.

“Why not?”

“I’ve never done it before,” Veil said with difficulty. “It is something only humans do and I-” He trailed off.

Link said softly, “You desire to be human, Veil. I can see it every time you look at me; you know that for your appearance and all your emotions that you still don’t possess all the traits which make you human. Sex is-” He lowered his voice. “Sex is simply a part of being human.”

“But it is not going to make me human,” he muttered.

“No, it won’t. But Veil,” Link took the dark haired young man’s chin in his hand and turned his head so that they were staring into each other’s eyes. “There are more important things to being human other than physical processes. Sex is—love is something special, something intimate that two humans share . . . and I wish to share it with you, in its most ultimate form.” His voice became rough as a knot formed in his throat. “I, I wish to because I love you, and I cannot think of any other way of showing it more completely. Please, Veil. I want to make love with you.”

Tears flooded the shadow’s eyes and he pulled away from Link’s touch, shaking his head determinedly. “No. I simply cannot. I . . . What if I hurt you?” His tone held a note of terror at the mere mention. “What if I scar you?”

“I am not made of glass,” Link said. “I won’t break if you are rough with me. Please, Veil. I have also never done this, and I would not give myself away so indifferently if my heart had not already made its decision. Please do not force me to beg—it is so unbecoming.”

Veil looked at Link’s face, at the fear and uncertainty etched in the fine lines of his brow, in the trembling of his bottom lip, and the dam of tears threatening to spill from his blue eyes with so much as a breath. Fear, but also love. The same as what was flowing through Veil’s veins, what made his heart pound and his mouth go dry.

On an unseen plane of thought there was a precipice known as Love, overlooking an abyss of the unknown. At the bottom could be Paradise or Hell itself, and Veil stood blindfolded upon the edge and was asked to jump. Today he held Link’s heart, but what if that changed tomorrow? What if Hell awaited below? What if this was a test to destroy what he had worked so hard to attain? Dare he jump? Was there enough desire in his heart to risk everything, with perhaps the rare chance to achieve a greater form of love? How could a love possibly be greater than what he already felt? It was inconceivable.

Veil loved Link with all of his heart, blindly, deafly, dumbly. He loved him as Man loves his God, and would do anything asked of him without question, so great was his faith.

But when asked to prove his love, what could he do? How could his passion be summed up into a single gesture? How could any act in this mortal world possibly give a shred of indication as to the degree of the burning fires of his heart? He was asked to do the impossible, and Veil shed tears of frustration at his own inability to choose, his own weakness, his own cowardice. He had backed away from the precipice, for it was not worth the chance.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he choked, gathering Link into a crushing embrace. “I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t want to be alone!”

“Then love me now, while you can,” Link whispered. “I will not live forever, Veil. I could be dead  next week, or even tomorrow. If you do not make your decision now, I may never have the chance to ask you to do this ever again . . . and you will regret it for the rest of your existence.”

A sword called Time was now at Veil’s back, pushing him toward the edge of the abyss. Inch by inch, thought by thought, he stumbled nearer. Would he go willingly or would he be forced over? Would he accept his fate and jump, or fall wishing he had done nothing?

But wait . . . What was this? A voice, calling him from just ahead. A warm, familiar voice, filled with laughter and comfort and care, a light that Veil could see even from behind his blindfold.

In his head he imagined his master standing before a piercing, heavenly light, with his golden hair flowing in the wind and his eyes sparkling like a thousand stars, smiling warmly and lovingly with his arms open wide, waiting for Veil to fall into them and be held forever and ever. For all eternity this memory would stay with him, this one moment in which everything was perfect; Link, as beautiful and divine as he was now, would live on forever. And nothing, not even Death, was capable of taking it away from him.

Returned from the shimmering white light of his mind and to the soft darkness of the hayloft, Veil allowed the last of his tears to fall from his eyes before his lips sought Link’s and found them, pressing with passionate desperation against their softness, knowing that they would not bruise because they were strong, because the light was strong. Link was strong. And he would not break beneath him.

The blanket slid slowly from their bare shoulders, and Veil’s hand found the small of Link’s back; he felt the sigh against his mouth, and dared to open his eyes. Blushed cheeks, fluttering eyelashes, soft warm lips, silky flaxen hair . . . All that was Link, and all of it beautiful. It made Veil reluctant to ever close his eyes again, even to blink, afraid of it disappearing into the cruel darkness of Forever.

 Guided by instinct alone, instinct he had never known he possessed but was somehow written into a part of his being, Veil pushed against Link’s body, forcing him gently onto his back, where the shadow then slowly allowed his full weight to settle down upon him. He felt the pounding of Link’s heart, the warmth, the clammy moistness, the hard muscles and the soft flesh, so many things, so many feelings. The urge to explore came to him, the urge to touch every part of Link with his lips, with his tongue, to learn the contours of his body and memorize every inch of him.

The hay pricked Link’s skin, making him fidget until he had grown used to the sensation, or at least forgotten it. Veil had begun pressing small kisses to the side of his neck, traveling slowly up until he caught the soft earlobe in his teeth, and sucked on it gently. His dark bangs cascaded across Link’s cheek, and he felt the Hylian wrap his arms around his waist, massaging his back with skilled, artful hands.

Veil gave a final tug to the earlobe before descending down the pale column of his throat, brushing it with his lips and sighing warm breath against it until he reached the collarbone, and that beautiful hollow in the very middle where he could count the pulses of Link’s heartbeat. Veil leaned down and kissed it, his tongue dipping into the depression and stroking it lovingly. The taste of salt and skin left its taint in his mouth, and he nuzzled his face against Link’s neck.

Link leaned his head back and drew up his knees, allowing Veil’s body to settle between his thighs. A region of heat burned between his legs, Veil felt, and he also began to feel the same region of himself begin to ache, though not with any pain he had ever experienced. It left him with strange desires that grew increasingly difficult to contain, at last rendering him a slave to their power.

Veil breathed heavily, tremulously, fairly shaking in his eagerness. Eagerness of what? He did not know. His mind was blank but his body seemed to know what it was doing. His hands stroked up and down Link’s sides, massaging the sinewy muscles and sturdy ribs, traveling the slight curve of his waist and hips with slow appreciation, learning the shape that was so similar to his own and yet felt so different. Veil sensed the aura of Link’s soul radiating into his hands, as if the Hylian’s body had become saturated with his own spirit, bursting to be freed from its fleshly prison. This feeling never seemed to fade, but grew gradually more potent, more powerful, more passionate.

The heat between Link’s legs was now pronounced with a rigidness that grew steadily harder with each passing moment. Veil noticed the change with vague curiosity, how soft things became hard and dry things became wet. Already delicate beads of sweat had formed on Link’s brow like tiny diamonds, catching the dim light of the lantern above as they grew heavy and rolled across his burning forehead. If Veil thought he was handsome a moment ago, he was indescribably gorgeous now: trembling eyelids over dark blue irises, pupils large from stimulation and impossibly deep with desire. Veil could look into them and fall for eternity without regret.

The exploration of Link’s body found Veil planting wet kisses upon the gentle slopes of the Hylian’s muscular abdomen, venturing lower and lower until he came across that shallow scar that was the greatest difference between them. Though only a navel, it represented a grander meaning behind its presence: a proof of existence, the mark of a given life, the reminder of a mother and father. Veil closed his eyes and laid a kiss upon the seventeen year-old scar, and somewhere between a prayer and a eulogy came his silent words of thanks to his master’s worldly creators, wherever they were now.

Link had reached his boiling point long ago and was now in a state of agonizing arousal, suffering sweetly at the hands of his dark haired twin, unable to think clearly in the euphoric haze that was clouding his mind. Libido causing Link’s rarely-seen but often-remembered assertiveness to surface in the heat of passion, the Hylian, having had quite enough of this slow torment, rose suddenly and pulled himself upon Veil, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss and sending him over onto his back with a dull thud.

 Surprised but delighted at the turn of events, the shadow ran his hands through Link’s golden hair and relished the feeling of weight and warmth straddling him. He returned Link’s kiss with as much fervor as he could keep up with, leaving him breathless and gasping when at last their lips parted.

“Oh, Link . . .” he panted softly as the Hylian left a line of gentle kisses along his scar.

He pulled one of Veil’s hands from his hair and brushed it down his chest, his belly, finally ending at the hard, eager length nestled in the heat and coarse, dark blond hair between his legs. Veil gasped when his fingers were forced around Link’s member, and he gazed at him worriedly, asking with his eyes what he was to do next.

“Stroke me,” Link whispered. “Slowly.”

 Veil did as he was told, and Link helped to guide him until he had learned how to do it correctly. Placing his hands on either side of Veil’s body and sitting up only slightly, Link gave in to the pleasure coursing though his limbs and groaned, sighed, moaned as it grew more intense with each passing moment, the shadow somehow knowing exactly what Link liked and how to make it feel even better.

 Veil slowly began to understand why he was doing what he was doing: it felt pleasurable, strangely enough, to be touched so intimately by another in such a secret place. It felt good. It made him glad to know that his lover was receiving and enjoying these touches—he was happy to know that Link was happy, because he loved him completely. So that was why this behavior was so important, Veil thought. His own length was growing taut and stiff as he listened to Link sigh and breathe heavily above him, watched with fascination as he closed his eyes and began to rock his body gently in time with Veil’s strokes, rubbing against the shadow’s arousal in the process.

Moisture made the shadow’s hand glide more smoothly along Link’s now fully erect penis, and suddenly the Hylian furrowed his brow and cursed. The next thing he knew, Veil’s hand and chest was covered in rivulets of warm viscous liquid. Link trembled silently for a few moments afterward, and a little more of the thick moisture spurted from his reddened manhood. He sighed heavily in momentary satiation and tossed his bangs from his eyes.

“Was that it?” Veil whispered in wonder, propping himself up onto his elbows. “Have we made love?”

Link shook his head, still breathing heavily. “It hasn’t ended. That was just the beginning.”

Gathering his spilled seed onto his fingers, the Hylian sat up on his knees over Veil and reached behind himself, inserting his slippery digits one by one into his orifice, grunting involuntarily and wincing from the pressure.

Veil grasped hold of Link’s thighs, asking anxiously, “You are hurting yourself?”

“Nnh, no, I’m . . . preparing myself for what happens next.”

“And what happens next?” the shadow asked in a worried whisper.

Link withdrew his fingers from his body and leaned down, kissing Veil once, deeply, and then gazing into his gray eyes. Reaching down between their bodies, he took Veil’s hard length into his slippery hand and fondled it amorously.

Veil nearly died from the wave of hedonistic pleasure that slammed into him head on, and he cried out hoarsely and wantonly. Link murmured in a voice as smooth as velvet, “You put this into me.”

Fighting to keep his eyes fixed upon his lover’s, Veil managed to choke, “H-how did you become so learned?”

“One can learn many things from listening to the gossip of prostitutes,” he replied, grinning faintly at the recollection of the catty girls at the Gilded Goblet. “Shameless they may be, but still they are knowledgeable in the ways of love-making. Their information is most useful.”

Veil wasn’t quite sure was a prostitute was, but he had no further time to dwell on the term as Link pressed a kiss to his lips one last time before sitting back up on his knees, and positioning himself over his twin’s hard, swollen erection. Taking the shaft into his hand once more and causing Veil to groan deeply, Link lowered himself with deliberation until skin met skin.

Veil, through a bleary haze of delirium, felt the tip of his length encounter Link’s moist flesh, and then a momentary burst of pressure as the Hylian pressed against it. They both cried out as their bodies fought against one another for a second longer, and then Link’s entrance suddenly yielded, and the head of Veil’s cock slipped up into his hot, clenching channel.

With both hands flat upon Veil’s chest for leverage, Link, gasping raggedly, allowed his hips to descend, slowly sheathing his shadow’s entire phallus all the way down to the wiry, dark hair at its base. The scream that had been mounting in Link’s throat broke free, but a clap of thunder drowned out its volume, obscuring it from existence. Nevertheless, it rang loudly in Veil’s ears, and he was overcome with a feeling unlike any he had ever felt before, such an intense, maddening feeling of love and desire and need that it manifested in his chest as a helpless cry of surrender that burst from his lungs like a hurricane.

One leaned down and the other leaned up, and together their lips met in the middle, muffling their screams till they were but soft moans again. Then they parted from each other once more, and the lovemaking truly began.

Gingerly Link raised himself up and then brought himself down. It took two or three rounds of this before the going was made easy, and soon he was steadily, smoothly and rhythmically riding Veil’s length, in and out, up and down. Flesh going into flesh, one part fitting into another, two bodies becoming one. It was so beautiful that the both of them had tears in their eyes, though neither from pain nor agony. Words failed them, save for short utterances to the gods, awed that they would allow mortals so close to Heaven that they could see its bright light even from where they lay.

Veil kept his hands clasped tightly to Link’s thighs. He could feel the muscles, though strong as they were, straining and shaking as passion stole the energy from them. But still Link went on, pushing himself to his limits, rising and falling faster and faster until his legs were shuddering too badly for him to keep his ground. They slid out from underneath him, and he sat squarely upon Veil’s hips with the burning, rigid member buried wholly into his body.

It was incredibly wonderful. Nothing could describe the feeling, not in a hundred thousand words. The heat and tightness that Veil felt around him, embedded deep into the flesh and muscle that was his only love, left the shadow feeling that perhaps this was as close to having a soul as he was ever going to get—to be one with the soul of his master again, to have returned the pieces and made it whole. One soul, one heart, two bodies.

And somehow, Veil felt, as he gazed at his lover’s gorgeous, sweaty face above him, that they had never been two to begin with.

Link was breathing heavily through his mouth, wanting to continue but his body too weakened to obey. He did not have to worry long. He felt Veil move beneath him, rising up to wrap his arms around him and ease him gently down onto his back. Link sighed thankfully and allowed his limbs to limply sprawl out as he caught his breath. Veil watched him breathe for a while, marveling at his naked beauty before caving in to his own desires.

Taking up Link’s legs at the knee and lifting them so that his hips were just barely above the hay, Veil gently thrust forward into his body. The angle was just right so that it caused Link’s eyes to go wide, and his straining sex to jump spastically, dribbling more of his seed onto his belly.

“Oh, Veil-!” he gasped, arching his back and urging his hips forward to receive more. “Veil!”

Teeth gritted and eyes struggling to remain open as shockwaves of euphoria danced through his limbs like lightning bolts, the shadow took Link securely by the hips and, throwing all consideration to the wind, rammed himself in and out of the sweet, soft flesh over and over. He imagined that he was an animal now, a love-beast wild and untamed, and his only purpose was to serve and love and obey his Master. The silver pentacle about his neck swung back and forth above Link’s face, glinting in the lamp light. The Hylian keened as his body burned and Veil’s searing length pierced into him relentlessly. If either of them were flint and steel, there would have been a fire that could be seen from the stars, a fire built of skin and sweat and a love so fierce it was terrifying.

When the end came—and came it certainly did, in three separate events that continued throughout the evening—Veil threw himself forward and locked his hands with Link’s. Energy flowed out of Link as his shadow released his own back into him, creating a cycle that tore through both of them like a savage wind and left the power of a million suns flaming in its wake. They screamed, they wept, they gazed at each other with new eyes that had never been opened before and were filled with wonder at what they saw:

Their entire world reflecting back at them in shades of blue and gray.

The dungeons were a horrible place to be kept during wet weather. Of course, they were firstly a horrible place to be kept at all, but especially so during a rainstorm. Deep beneath the ground in the lowest level of Hyrule Castle, Sheik sat apathetically in the corner of his cell and waited to be summoned. The large mortar and stone of three walls leaked water and were dank, covered with mildew. The floor was even more disgusting, and Sheik was only sitting down on it because he had grown weary of pacing the length of his confinement. Heavy iron bars were his fourth wall, gazing at similar cells across the narrow corridor, dotted with burning torches. Most of them were empty and used only as temporary holding cells for those who had committed crimes against the royal family—temporary because Hyrule was well-known for its swift trial and judgment process, and also because any crime against royalty qualified an immediate execution.

But Sheik was not worried about execution, only about the tempers of the rats that ran along the floors and in between cracks in the walls from time to time. It was Rauru who had suggested that the Sheikah be carted off to the spend the night alone in the lovely, accommodating dungeons, giving him plenty of time to resent his mutinous actions displayed at the Temple of Time earlier. But Sheik did not resent his actions, stating proudly to Rauru that he wished he had only acted sooner to buy his friends more time.

The old man had not been the least bit happy to hear such treasonous words from the mouth of one bound to the service of the royal family, and must have told the guards who escorted him down to the prison to be extra rough with him. Sheik was not so easily battered or bruised, and had been able to fend off the much larger guards with minor rebuttals.

He gingerly touched where his bottom lip had been split from a strike to his face, glad to see that it had stopped bleeding and was now beginning to scab over. With a sigh, Sheik leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, feeling that perhaps he should make the best of his free time by getting some rest, however terrible it may be.

He had just begun to grow sleepy when his acute hearing picked up the sound of soft footsteps, and he sat expectantly with his eyes turned toward the iron bars. A man, judging by the breadth and weight of the steps. Not a guard; no clanking of armor could be heard. Crisp steps; a member of the court, perhaps. Someone wearing tall boots. Using a simple process of elimination, Sheik had figured out who it was before they even arrived. The mysterious person seemed to know he knew, for he stopped just before reaching his cell and waited.

Sheik smiled slightly and inquired, “Come to join me for a party this lovely evening, Chamberlain?”

The tall man strode into view, grinning fondly and shaking his head. “I don’t know how you do it, Ilya. I could dance upon my toes like a young girl and still you would know it was I.”

“No, I would tell from the screams as you fell on your face that it was you,” the young man replied with a smirk, rising from his dreary seat, sauntering over and draping his arms casually about the bars. “Have you been sent to liberate me from my cozy hellhole already?”

“I wish it were so,” Leith replied with a heavy sigh, and gazed at Sheik sadly. “You’ve certainly gotten yourself into trouble this time. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“The guards roughed you up, I see. The bastards.”

“Calm down, I’m fine,” Sheik said, swatting away the man’s hand as it reached out to touch his face. “You should see what I did to them before spending all your pity on me.”

The gray haired man smiled. “You are something, Ilya. Make no mistake about it.”

“You flatter me. Anyway,” Sheik muttered, leaning against the bars, “did you come down here for just a cordial chat or on business?”

“I actually had to sneak down here when no one was looking,” Leith admitted, then added in a hushed voice, “I come bearing important news. Direly important.”

Sheik narrowed his crimson eyes. “Does it have anything to do with Link and Veil? Do you know where they are?”

“No, but I’m suspecting that you do, if you’re as clairvoyant as I know you are,” Leith replied. “I thought that perhaps I would be able to help them by searching through the hall of records here at the castle, hoping to find some inkling of this ‘soul shadow’ that Link spoke of.”

“And?”

“I found nothing, but don’t be discouraged! Ilya . . .” Leith leaned in close, his face drawn and serious. “I stumbled across something I should have never laid eyes upon.” He reached into his vest and pulled out a thin, ancient looking leather bound book. “It’s some sort of journal written about the seventh king of Hyrule,” he explained. “It was a little hard to read what with a few pages missing here and there, but it is filled—simply filled—with mentions of the Sheikah. Ilya, it’s terrible. I never knew-”

“You came all the way down here to bother me with folktales of my ancestors? Honestly, Leith!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the chamberlain repeated. “I know how concerned you are with your friends right now and I’m doing all I can to help. Here, take this.” He handed the journal through the bars. “Read it when you can, but for Din’s sake, don’t let anyone see it or take it from you! Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“It’s very important!”

“Yes! I understand!”

“Damn it, Ilya.” Leith reached through the bars and grabbed Sheik in a tight embrace. “I always thought you were too impetuous for your own good. Now look at where it has gotten you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sheik said softly. “You’d better get out of here before they notice your absence. Really. I’ll be all right.”

Leith pulled away. “I’ve always thought of you as a son,” he said with a gentle smile. “A father worries for his children, you know.”

“And a father knows when his children can stand on their own.” Sheik clutched the journal to his chest tightly. “If you wish to help them, you can find them at Lon Lon Ranch.”

Leith looked puzzled. “Lon Lon? They would not be foolhardy enough to seek refuge so close to the castle!”

“Which is why they did, for no one would have thought they’d be hiding in plain sight,” said Sheik. “Keep a tight lip now, and move quickly. They won’t stay there for long. If they’ve already gone by the time you get there, find me and I’ll tell you where they went, though I doubt anyone shall be able to reach them once they are there.”

“Right,” Leith nodded smartly and walked quickly away. “Be sure to read that now!” he called, and Sheik watched until his shadow disappeared and the dungeon was plunged into silence once more, save for the occasional drip-drip somewhere in the distance.

Sighing heavily, the young Sheikah looked down at the book in his hands and sat on the floor, opening to the first page and beginning to read.