To the Stone City

[Omni]

They stepped through the portal, and were greeted by sunlight. It was truly a breath of fresh air after the cold, clinical nature of the Nexus, with its omnipresent twilight. Several of the soldiers breathed deep, grinning and making relieved noises. Things could have gone a lot worse.

As she stepped through, Garona glanced behind her. The gate was surrounded by a circle of stones. It was strange to step behind the gate and see more land, where the Nexus should have been. It felt like she’d been shown the secret to a magic trick, except that it wasn’t a trick.

“It’ll be quicker to go by pegasi,” said the king. He started to summon. “Just do as I do.”

Before long, they were mounted up and flying to the capital. They were flying directly over a pass, obviously made to lead from wherever they were headed to the gate they had come from. Around it were plains of grass, fields, and hills with rivers snaking between them. In the far distance in every direction were mountains, as though someone had plotted out the world in a circle, then filled it in by hand.

As they came closer to the capital, they could hear something in the distance. Almost like the wind blowing. They looked down and could see dots; villagers. “They’re cheering,” called one of the soldiers to the Primes, leaning over with a grin on his face. e6gg

[Illidan Stormrage]

Link wandered out of the portal and into Camelot. As he was late in his decision, the majority of those who chose to enter the medieval world already mounted onto winged horses and glided towards Minas Tirith, gaining a fantastic view of the land. Link was unsure if he could summon a pegasus after the effort it took to mold his Ocarina of Time. He simply watched the magnificent white creatures as they sailed effortlessly forward.

The world of Camelot was almost painful to the eyes after the bland, mirthless void of the Nexus. Emerald grass rolled over the countryside, plush and soft as any rug in Hyrule Castle. Forests comprised of staunch, towering trees spread their canopies wide and thick, filtering endless shifts of shadow on the ground. The sun was stitched into the vast baby blue of the heavens, boldly pouring light out over the kingdom. A giant chunk of floating earth was the only blemish in the otherwise perfect sky, pegasi wheeling about it. This world was full of colour and life, much like the Hyrule Link knew as a child. A blue bird sped past him on the breeze, and Link found himself pausing on the thought of Navi.

She was still with Link as Princess Zelda sent him back in time, but she was nowhere to be found when he awoke in the Nexus. Did she manage to slip through Omni's grasp and coast back to their original time? That seemed the most likely answer. Not that he could know without consulting the deity apparent. As he moved his gaze over the untouched landscape, the calmness of familiarity gave way to a deep rock sinking in his gut.

While Camelot was in many ways reminiscent of his home, it wasn't Hyrule. There was no Kokiri Forest to return to, no Saria or Great Deku Tree or even the impish Mido. Princess Zelda was in her castle, Darunia was ruling over Goron City, and Ruto still paddled about in Zora's Domain. For the first time since Link arrived, the stomach clenching realisation of loneliness seized him.

Link didn't know any of those who'd gone ahead of him, and while he wasn't adverse to making friendships, he had never been particularly outgoing. Most deep relationships he forged were either out of necessity or fortune. He was a kind, polite guy, always interested in some harmless fun, but so many of the Primes dressed and acted like assassins or people of questionable sanity. One was even Ganondorf. There may be some comraderie with the king, or possibly the green moblin Thrall, but they were leaders of their people. They would not have time to make friends with every new Prime that entered the Nexus.

Without a goal or a destination, Link started down the path lined by stone from the portal. He assumed the trail connected directly with Minas Tirith, and that seemed like the best place to start ... his new life? Link wasn't sure what his existence meant here. There was always Ganondorf, who vanished for some nefarious purpose, no doubt. At least he could train, preparing for when the dark sorceror unleashed his malicious intent on this world.

But did he know what to expect? Ganondorf was already making allies, however shaky their foundation, and the presence of Omnilium opened myriad of possibilities. He still possessed the Master Sword, but they were no longer in a world born of the Hylian goddesses. Was there a power greater than Din, Nayru and Farore here?

Link felt like he swallowed hot lead. So many uncertainties and nothing to appease the ... fear? Was Link feeling fear?

The Hylian knight stepped off the walking track and ventured into a empty grass plain. Ever since he obtained the Triforce of Courage, Link hadn't known fear in the sense he once had. The heart of Farore galvanised his convictions to the point that fear wasn't a factor in his quest. He still remembered the tingling burn in his stomach, the flitting prickles that dotted his lungs, the absence of saliva in his mouth, but they no longer assailed him in perilous situations. He understood the danger, but he knew his abilities, and the Triforce piece removed any hindrance in achieving his goals.

Did he still have it? Link looked at the back of his left hand. He concentrated, recalling the faint ebb of its presence that pulsed within his chest whenever it thrummed with godly energy. A golden triangle did not burn in light through his gloved hand. Was the Triforce piece still within him, or had it receded in this new dimension? Link could not tell.

Flopping into the cushioned grass, Link rolled onto his back and gazed into the clear sky. He breathed deeply, rhythmically, until the disquieting sludge in his stomach thinned. As a wispy cloud swam on the breeze high above him, Link thought back to Hyrule and everything he'd left behind. Or rather, everything that was taken from him. He closed his eyes and saw comforting sights drift past; the wide trunked forests of Kokiri, the glistening Lake Hylia, the cosy stables of Lon Lon Ranch where he first met Malon and Epona. The last vision he saw was of Zelda, of her blowing curtly into the Ocarina of Time and sending him on his way.

The Ocarina of Time! Link snatched it from within the folds of his tunic and studied it. If Zelda could send him backwards through time with it, then maybe he could decipher how she did it. She mentioned that she was able to do it as the leader of the Sages, but surely the Hero of Time could manipulate the thin sheet between moments as well?

Link sat up, a light airiness filling his chest. Hope returned as the ocarina met his lips. He remembered the song she played; Zelda's Lullaby. Rising to his feet, he closed his eyes and puffed each note with a deep reverence. Just hearing the royal family's melody again brought a warm peace to his mind. As the last note lingered on the breeze, Link lowered the instrument and opened his eyes.

Nothing.

He waited, thinking that the magic of the song needed time to work through the barriers of the worlds.

Still, nothing.

Link sighed, his voice sharp. How could he believe home was so close by? Besides, as he surmised, he was no Sage. The Master Sword opened and connected the two nodes of time he traversed, not him. Of all the false hopes to trust in ...

There was one last song, he thought, that may prove useful. He couldn't see it sending him back to Zelda, but maybe it could part the curtain of time to some degree. It was a long shot, but there were no other targets.

Link pursed his lips around the ocarina mouthpiece and played a solemn tune known only to the wizards who once constructed the Master Sword's residence; the Song of Time.

What seemed like an eternity past by as Link released the melody into Camelot. He opened his eyes ... and everything was the same. Link was about to scream until he realised his grip on his ocarina was in danger of breaking it. He took a deep breath, composed himself, and hid the instrument away again. There was nothing for it. He'd continue on his way to the capital, and work out his plan of attack from there.

As he started walking, he glimpsed a curious sight. The same blue bird that darted by him earlier was hovering in one place, except it wasn't beating its wings. Its beak was wide open, an insect moments away from becoming food, but the bird would not capitalise. He could see the filmy outline of the bee's wings; they weren't moving.

Before the truth could dawn on him, Link heard a rustling behind him. A large skeleton with one red eye approached him, a disused sword and shield in hand.

<Hero of Time>, it said directly into his mind. <We have much to discuss.>

[Magus]

He exhaled with a soft sigh, relaxing his muscles as though an immense pressure had been lifted up off him. Magus closed his crimson eyes and tilted his head up at the sky, spreading his arms apart and let the sun soak on his pale flesh. “Ah…”

The wizard set the spike at the base of his scythe gingerly upon the centuries-old road and rolled his head round his neck, eliciting a sharp series of nasty pops from his vertebrae, as well as a quiet grunt of relief.

Magus could not explain why, but something about being in the Nexus felt oppressive. It was as if some kind of metaphysical force was squeezing him, draining him. And as soon as he’d crossed the threshold into Camelot, it was gone. His eyes opened partway, forming a lazy half-lidded gaze. He cast it to his side, appearing disinterested but absorbing all he could of his surroundings.

Not gone, he reminded himself. Just out of reach, maybe. If Omni was indeed responsible for the Nexus and all of the other worlds connected to it, then there was no reason to believe that formless power would not someday envelop him again. Perhaps it would come more strongly next time.

He dismissed it with a regal scoff. There was no reason to become paranoid. Besides, he reasoned, he had work to do. The first order of business was to find this library Thrall had spoken of.

A library containing knowledge about the whereabouts of the creator of the Omniverse, and how to get there. Almost immediately, Magus decided such a library could only exist at the focal point of this world; the capital of its most powerful nation.

Perhaps it was simply the capital of Camelot. Really, Magus had no idea if Camelot represented the entire world he stood on proper, or if it was merely a kingdom within it. “Hmm,” he considered it may have been prudent to have had inquired about that.

No matter now. The Fiendlord strode ahead on the only path available for him, ascending a steep hill immediately beyond the gate he’d passed through, and paused at its crest to get a lay of the land.

And it was remarkable, indeed. A sea of rolling meadows split by an ancient cobblestone road sprawled before him, the gorgeous green grass flowing on and on for miles beneath a perfect azure sky.

Lakes and forests seemed to spring up in all directions and teemed with life. He watched a group of deer race off to somewhere on his left, and a fox scampering down the trail off in the distance. Villages and people dotted the landscape much further off, and, more incredible than any of that, was what he saw in the sky.

“It’s… Zeal…” he stood there for a long time, mouth agape. Never, anywhere or anytime, had he ever seen a floating island other than his home, the Kingdom of Zeal. The nobility, those gifted with magic, resided in the most opulent luxury on a floating archipelago, suspended high above by unfathomably powerful enchantments.

Although this was only one island in the sky, he knew it must have been the seat of some amazing power. His mother had ruled all of Zeal from atop her floating empire, and realistically, although those who lived on the surface were technically not of the empire, they were effectively bound to her will as well. Unless, of course, the kind people of the surface preferred not breathing over being slaves to her demands.

He wondered if the social structure was similar here, in Camelot. He wondered if those with power lived on that floating island, and the unwashed masses lived in their collective shadow below.

If it really was like Zeal, those on the surface would be living in abject poverty, in primitive huts and hovels, using Stone Age tools and trading for shiny things. Or perhaps the underclass had progressed to the medieval era, as reflected by Thrall and his guards.

Schala always pitied the surface-dwellers. Even now, Magus knew not why. At the same time that they were eking out their meager existence with their limited abilities, their superiors flourished with mighty technology not even rivaled by the present day in Magus’ world.

The people of Zeal were simply better. That’s why they had left their simpler brethren below. It was the only way. And still Schala would find pity on them, as if they hadn’t chosen ignorance.

“Huh?!” Magus gasped, stirred back to reality by a haunting melody. Shrill, melancholy notes lilted into the air and hung there, slowly, solemnly replaced by others. He silently cursed himself, wondering how many times he would allow his wandering mind to get him caught up in these situations.

The Fiendlord hurried toward the source of the music, spying a young boy dressed in all green playing a flute-like instrument. Standing tall, Magus strode toward him. Though just a boy, perhaps he knew which way the library was. Or at the very least, could point him in the direction of someone who did.

His eyes went wide and he froze in step as a cold chill washed over him. That wasn’t a song the boy was playing. Each note was suffused with incredibly powerful magic, for a purpose Magus wasn’t yet aware of.

The mage’s eye twitched. It must have been the flute; the boy couldn’t possibly have wielded magic so strong. Magus could feel it. The primal roots of the song’s energy swirled and spread through him, through everything.

Magus dashed toward the boy in hopes of both ascertaining what he was doing and startling him into stopping. Somehow he knew if the song was silenced, so too would the magic be silenced. His cape billowed out behind him as he dashed through the field, and then was frozen in time - in mid sprint - along with the rest of the scenery.

[Illidan Stormrage]

Link's arm whipped to the hilt of his weapon and the Master Sword slipped cleanly from its sheath. The Hylian Shield wrapped about his right forearm. Without the Triforce of Courage, Link felt the full force of adrenaline pumping through his veins. He noticed a cold sweat seep over his face, and his drumming heart beat echoed within his ears. Link commanded himself to calm, never removing his eyes from the red blot in the stranger's skull.

It wasn't a skeleton on second glance, the Hylian observed, at least not fully. Grey skin clung to the bones. The face had a barest layer, making the teeth and nose cavity visible. The missing eye was a black hole, and the other socket shone with a crimson light. If it was a Stalfos, it was none like he had ever seen. It wore tarnished bronze armour, pockmarked by scratches and rust. A growth of mossy vegetation hung from its right shoulder. Its once three horned helm, one horn snapped in half, covered whatever hair the creature may have had. There were chalky, peach coloured emblems on his chestplate and shield but they were not familiar. Despite the disrepair of his weapons, its sword's edge glinted in the frozen sunlight.

The skeletal figure stood still, watching, making only the sparsest movements.

"What is this?" Link gathered the wits to say. His voice wavered. "How did you get here? How did you freeze time like this?"

<A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage, Hero of Time.> The sound originated from inside Link's head.

Having his bravery questioned inspired Link. He swiveled the Master Sword's hilt in his hand, rotating the blade in a three hundred and sixty degree arc. "I am the possessor of the Triforce of Courage! I do not know fear."

<You do know fear. I can sense it in you. I can't sense the Triforce, though. What have you done with it?> came the reverberating reply.

Link leveled the sword at the skeleton's chest. "I won't say another word until you tell me what you are and how you found me!"

The ghastly apparition lowered its weapon. <Link. I found you through the song of the royal family.>

Link frowned. "You heard my ocarina?"

<The Ocarina of Time, for such a song to resonate between worlds could only be created by it.>

"Then why did you only show up now?"

<Zelda's Lullaby is known to only a few souls, and those souls belong to Hyrule.> The red eye of the skeletal warrior shrunk, then expanded to its normal size. <When I first noticed it, I took it for a faded memory, an indulgence for my sanity. I did not think I truly heard it. For who could stumble unknowingly on the exact melody, and with a mystical artifact?>

Link took out the ocarina, glistening pale purple-blue. If this being was to be believed, he truly was no longer in Hyrule. "Princess Zelda used it to send me back to my original time."

<Yes, I know,> the skeleton nodded. <I remember it clearly.>

Link was about to interrupt before it continued. <Then I heard the Song of Time, and I knew it was not my mind playing tricks. I focused upon those enchanted notes, drawn by its wondrous power, and found you here.>

"And time is frozen around us because ..."

<I cannot enter the material plane. Your song, however, gave me the opportunity I needed to step into this world. A pause in the flow of time does not exist, and thus I can.>

"I never paused time with the ocarina before. How did I do it this time?"

<You didn't,> came the answer. <I seized upon the magic of the Song of Time and birthed the pause myself.>

This was getting uncomfortable. An unknown creature travelled between worlds at the behest of the Ocarina of Time? What was this thing? Could other fiends detect his enchanted music as well?

"Are you the only one eyed skeleton I can expect to visit me when I play this?" Link said, putting the instrument away.

<Yes.>

"Then start telling me who you are and why you came between dimensions to freeze me in time!" Link lifted the Master Sword again.

The skeleton's skull tilted to the left, then centre. <This may be difficult to fathom, Link ->

"More difficult than a skeleton freezing time?"

The apparition ignored the interjection. <- but to fully comprehend this, you must know the truth. Link ... I am the Hero's Shade.>

Link narrowed his eyes. "You say that like it has meaning."

<Throughout Hyrule's history, there have been Heroes who have stepped forward into the roles the goddesses predestined for them. The Hero of Legend, the first of his kind. The Hero of Men, who triumphed in the War of the Bound Chest. There are other Heroes, further into the future, that surface when the cry is loudest. And between them all, linking them together, is the Hero of Time.>

"So ... you're a ghost of a past hero? Or future?" Link said. "Of who? The Hero of Legend or Hero of Men?"

<I am the ghost of the Hero of Time.>

Link's eyes widened. He almost let slip his Master Sword. "What? That makes no sense. I'm not ... dead. Am I?" Was that why the Triforce of Courage was missing?

<You are not dead, Link. But you are not where you are supposed to be. You represent a conundrum.>

"If I'm talking to my own dead spirit, then something's gone wrong somewhere." Link couldn't believe this. Was this even possible?

<I will explain our co-existence as best as I can fathom it.> The Hero's Shade looked away momentarily, as if distracted by something on the horizon, and then faced Link again. <As you know, you were headed back to your childhood after defeating Ganon. During your transition, you were plucked from the time stream and brought here. However, you have not gone missing from your - our - original time.>

"This is ludicrous. How can I be there if I'm here?" Link said.

<I do not know. You may be a glitch in the universe - a copy accidentally created during your travel back through time. The force that brought you here may have done so hastily and without fully understanding the ramifications of its actions.>

A copy? Then there was no home for him. The real Link already lived and died in Hyrule, and the skeleton standing before him was his legacy.

<This is a theory. It may also be that you eventually find a way home, and your existence here is merely a stop on your travel.>

That explanation wrested the clench from his stomach. "If you're me, you must remember this place. A mysterious figure called Omni?"

<No,> the shade said. <I have no recollection. Yet, this may be an impermanent existence, or your - our - memory may have been wiped once the route back to your childhood is traversed. I cannot say for certain, and I cannot peer into the stream where you - we - last travelled back in time. There is an anomaly through which I cannot perceive.>

Link lowered the tip of his sword again. "So I could be a copy of the true Link, I could be in between time, or it could be something else entirely." This Hero's Shade was generating more questions than answers.

<Yes,> his future ghost said. <Your existence is a mystery. In any case, there is something unique to you - not me - that drew me here.>

"What?"

<The anomaly may block my view, but its effects cling to you clear as this sky.>

"Effects? What are you talking about?"

<Your departure from the time stream - however it happened - left scars upon your soul. You see, you - we - are descended, at least in spirit, from the first great champion of the goddesses, the Hero of Legend. He was the first to defeat and banish Demise, the precursor to who you - we - know as Ganondorf.>

"Ganondorf?" Link was stunned. "He's existed for thousands of years?"

<In the same way that you and I have,> the Hero's Shade said. <Their essence has flowed into new eras, bringing about times of great conflict and times of great peace. You - we - were a continuation of this phenomenon, and it has continued off into the future. Before you were brought here, your soul somehow recognised this spiritual connection between the Heroes of all ages and permanently marked each of them into you - not me.>

<I do not appreciate the implications this has for you, but even now I see the faint lines of history flowing in and out of you. There is a link between times that is a part of you that never was a part of me. This may be to your benefit or your detriment. It is too early to tell.>

Link stood motionless for a moment. The thudding beat of his heart had slowed. A chilly fog clung inside his lungs. This was all too much to take in. Instead he turned the question back on his dead self. "So what does this mean for you? What do I mean to you?"

The Hero's Shade paused. <I have considered this, but my answer is unsatisfactory. I wish to assist you in any way I can. I will study this unique effect from the currents of time and contact you again when I have something further to discuss. I take it that this conversation has been overwhelming.>

Link resheathed his sword. "It is a lot of information to digest."

His ghost nodded and took a step back. <I understand. I shall leave you for now, but I will return.>

The Hero's Shade rose his sword into the sky. Light shone from its silvery finish until it blazed like the sun and Link had to close his eyes.

When he opened them, the skeletal warrior was gone. The blue bird snapped up the unlucky bee and coasted away on the breeze. The blades of grass swayed rhythmically by his boots. Time had resumed again.

Link's mind ached with the same fatigue his sword arm once did during his early days of training. So much information was compressed in such a small amount of time, and still mysteries and vague events hung over the Hylian knight. Hopefully, this Hero's Shade - his dead future self, if it was to be believed - would discover something soon.

The sound of feet pattering on the stone path broke Link's introspection. A strange, pale skinned man was running over to him. A blood red cape flapped behind him, as did his long lavender hair. He had the pointed ears of a Hylian, but his complexion and burning red eyes were not common among Link's people. The unknown man stopped abruptly and questioningly ran his eyes up and down the green garbed teenager. Link felt a stab of fear in his chest. Had this man seen him playing the Ocarina of Time? Did he notice the magical aspect to it? This world was similar to Link's own. Perhaps this man was a mage, and saw the power written in the songs?

"Is something wrong?" Link asked.

[Magus]

He gazed down at the boy, paralyzed by doubt. Something was… off. He had been entirely focused on the boy who had clearly been playing an instrument, and hadn’t seen him put it away. And yet, it was gone. What was more, he seemed to be in a different spot than he had been before, without actually having moved.

It wasn’t teleportation. Magus couldn’t explain why he knew, but he did. Perhaps because of the music, the boy had somehow distorted his very existence within space and time, if only for a moment.

He must have been staring a bit too long, because the boy asked him if anything was wrong. Magus cringed and blinked the surprise out of his eyes. “No. I-” he rubbed at his eyes, and then, with renewed composure, he started again. “Nothing is wrong, boy. I saw you working some very powerful magic with your musical instrument; I had thought perhaps it was dangerous. As a mage, I have a responsibility to understand the magics being worked around me.”

That much was true, mostly. Magic users of Zeal were all expected to use caution and restraint, and effectively kept one another in check. Unless, he reminded himself, one of those people became unfathomably powerful by drawing on the energy of a dormant extraterrestrial, and whose madness and sheer potential couldn’t be checked by anyone.

“Oh, no, I wasn’t-”

“Don’t lie to me, boy,” the voice was curt, flat, but without malice. “You wrought incredibly powerful magic just then. The notes themselves reverberated with it. You couldn’t possibly hide that even from an apprentice of the arts.”

“Uh… well...” he was reluctant to answer, that much was clear. Magus didn’t blame the child; carrying that kind of potential with you, especially as a child, made him a clear target. The boy was blond, clad in green cloth and leather fabric. It looked like adventuring gear, and it seemed thematically suited to Camelot, just as Magus’ own clothing did.

The child’s sword and shield, both slung over his back, also resonated with a hardly audible buzz of power. It wasn’t nearly as powerful as some of the artifacts he’d wrought – or faced – but Magus had to grant that his own artifacts had been severely weakened here, too. So, the child wasn’t a stranger to the road, then, and had most likely seen his fair share of adventure. And treachery, Magus reasoned. It made sense that the boy wasn’t keen to share information.

“You are… from the fountain?” Magus inquired, eliciting the exact response he’d expected: the briefest chill of surprise, followed by acknowledgement. He’d created a hint of common ground.

“Yes,” the boy responded after a brief pause.

“Me too,” the Fiendlord replied. He hesitated for a moment, and then added, “I am called Magus. Arch Mage and King of the Mystics,” he still felt the bittersweet taste of that title on his tongue.

It was a lofty position, but it wasn’t who he was. He was Janus, Prince of Zeal, brother to Schala, Princess Zeal. But he couldn’t afford to expose himself, certainly not now. The young lad was hardly out of diapers, true, but he was a Prime. If Thrall and Bradley were to be believed, that counted for a great deal in the Omniverse.

“I am Link, of Hyrule,” was the response. Magus knew of no place called Hyrule, from any of the time periods he’d been to. He began to wonder if there were more realities than simply his own and that of the Omniverse. Given what he’d seen in the past few hours, it wouldn’t have been terribly shocking.

Magus extended a gloved hand, offering a handshake. Link accepted the gesture, and the two traded grips for a moment, before the taller of the two – by a wide margin – broke away. “Link, I am also a practitioner of the arts. Watch.”

He raised his hand, palm up, and almost immediately, the air just above his palm seemed to shimmer and dazzle, before becoming dark and greasy. It coalesced into a tiny dragon, and seemed to solidify as a statue.

Before Link could comment, the statue suddenly threw its head back and roared a tiny, high pitched squeak of a roar. It leapt from Magus’ hand and beat its tiny wings, sailing around Link, who twisted his head this way and that to track its movements, before it came to rest in front of his face, beating its wings to hover in place.

“You see?” Magus let his arm drop and the dragon flashed into dust, carried off by the breeze. “I understand what it’s like to practice magic. What it’s like for people to fear you for being different. I assure you, I do not fear your magic. I had simply hoped to better understand it.”

“Yeah, well, yeah. The song… was supposed to send me home. It didn’t work,” Link replied. He seemed to be holding something back, but it did make a certain kind of sense. Perhaps that was what had ‘shifted’ the boy. It had begun to work for a split second before Omni’s domain negated its power, perhaps.

“Hmm… yes, I wouldn’t suppose this ‘Omni’ would have made things so easy for you,” Magus responded, devoid of sympathy. He had wasted enough time talking with the urchin. The only reason he’d shown the boy the modicum of respect he had thus far was because he wielded primal powers far beyond the boy’s own constitution. He was holding back, and he would find out exactly what someday when he wasn’t in such a hurry. “The capital of Camelot; it’s that floating island, right?”

“No, actually, it’s called Minas Tirith, apparently. It’s right by there, though, on the surface, I’m pretty sure,” Link explained.

“Good,” Magus turned away from Link and thrust both hands forward, channeling Omnilium this time, rather than magic. He closed his eyes, and reached deep within himself, latching onto the foreign material, shaping it in his mind’s eye. It was… different than magic; more tangible but… sloppier. It was, above all else, infuriatingly slow to manifest. “I need to leave for the library located there immediately.”

“Why?” came the response, as a vague, greasy black blob began to appear before Magus. The blob trembled and quivered, before stretching and shaping into a vague representation of what he was trying to create.

“What do you think of Omni?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you happy he brought you here?”

“No,”

“Do you support what he’s doing? Do you think he’s a good or a bad person?”

“I think he’s selfish,” Link answered. “I think he has a lot of power but not a lot of maturity. I think he created all of this for his own amusement, and he’s playing with us like we’re dolls. It’s sick.”

Magus arched a lavender eyebrow as his creation became more and more defined. The boy showed remarkable insight for his age. “I discovered that there is a way to confront Omni. I seek to challenge him, to demand he send me back. I have… business to take care of in my world.”

“You can do that??” Link’s blue eyes lit up.

“Apparently so,” Magus answered. “Thrall told of a way to Omni that could be discovered through the library. He was annoyingly determined I not discover it, however, and refused to simply tell me the way. So I head there to figure it out, and then on to Omni himself.”

“Confront Omni and… go home,” the boy summed up. He seemed to study his hand with strange intensity. “I didn’t know that was an option,” he looked up at the caped wizard, his back turned to Link. “Can I… come with you?”

Magus stifled a scoff. Anyone else and he’d have refused in a heartbeat. However, it did represent an opportunity to keep Link’s primal magic close. Perhaps he would get a chance to study it after all. “If you get in my way, slow me down, I leave you behind. No second chances.”

Link nodded, his expression severe. “They suggested summoning pegasi to get there faster.”

Magus’ lips curled up in the tiniest of smiles. He snorted derisively. “Who needs a Pegasus when you’ve got one of these?”

With one final push of effort, the creation Magus had been working on during their conversation coalesced, a giant version of the dragon he’d made for Link earlier. The huge, black, winged beast bellowed a thunderous roar into the air, and then lowered its head to the ground. Smoke poured from between its mighty jaws, though the wizard was unable to provide it with the ability to breathe fire, at least for now.

He clambered up onto the mighty creature’s head, and Link followed. “Fly, Dragon! To Minas Tirith!” the creature roared again and beat its mighty wings, building up lift before throwing its enormous frame into the sky.

[Illidan Stormrage]

Link crawled onto the Omnilium crafted dragon. Its scales were black and rough, but it didn't pulse with the heat he remembered Volvagia emanating. As he gripped onto the dragon's back, he wondered if one day he could summon the great Goron eating serpent like this Magus had done with this creature. He shuddered at the thought. After the massacre that monster went on and the lengths both himself and Darunia went to, bringing Volvagia to this dimension was too risky.

Link was broken from his reverie by the burst of wind from the dragon's wings. As it ascended into the sky, Link's throat clenched. The sensation of flight was unnerving; to forfeit his sense of balance to another made it seem he could slip into the air at the lightest nudge. He'd been suspended in the air by magical forces before but nothing like dragonback flight. The Triforce of Courage stabilised his mind much more than he realised before. Link pressed his teeth together. While he might not have divine bravery now, he would learn to do without it. If it ever came back, nothing would ever scare him again.

The dragon soared into the sky, its ebony wings skimming the clouds as it rose. The floating chunk of earth grew larger as time went by, and the ornate structures that made up Dalaran came into view. The seat of the Mages Guild was wrought in shining metals and vibrant colour, even from the air. Link couldn't tell if Dalaran was inhabited by magic wielders, but he knew Magus would know.

There were mages in Hyrule. Magic was a lost art for the most part in his time, but there were still those who held the knowledge of arcane power, Ganondorf being an unfortunate example. Magus closely resembled him in ability, Link could tell. He sensed the timeless magic weaved into the Ocarina of Time's music, and birthed a tiny dragon with his own power. Link wondered if Magus was truly searching for a way to Omni, or just wanted to scour the knowledge of Dalaran's library.

In a sense, Link was glad Ganondorf didn't know of such a place, but perhaps Magus was the next Dark King for all he knew. He'd watch him, never letting his guard down. If he was being truthful, then he'd hopefully see Hyrule again. If not, the Master Sword was in his possession.

The dragon swooped into Dalaran, into an open courtyard that appeared specifically for aerial landings. Pegasi milled about, some owned by individuals and others corralled together by those who provided a travel service. The courtyard was elaborately decorated, with trimmed gardens running around the circumference. A large archway lead into the streets of Dalaran, and Link could see a plethora of people striding between buildings. Magus dismounted from his great black beast and Link followed. He was somewhat surprised that the presence of a dragon, even a mindless one constructed from Omnilium, barely lifted an eyebrow by most Dalaran citizens.

Magus looked around the courtyard and started towards the archway. "We need to find the library. I don't know how easy it will be, but-"

Link approached a guard at the archway when Magus looked away. "Excuse me sir, do you know where I can find the library? I ask because-"

Magus grabbed the Hylian by the arm and pulled him away. He gave a courteous smile and said, "I apologise for my ... nephew's actions, sir. We'll leave you be."

Once the two Primes were out of earshot, Link spoke. "What was that for?"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Finding out where the library is," he said. "This place looked big from the air."

Magus shook his head. "You think they'll just tell us where the single largest source of magic instruction is because we asked?"

"Doesn't hurt to try," Link said, a little wounded. He hadn't considered how such knowledge could be jealously guarded. People in Hyrule were always friendly to the Hero of Time, but he needed to remember that he wasn't in Hyrule anymore.

"It's best if you let me do the talking from now on," Magus said, and walked through the archway nearby.

Link adjusted his tunic, checked his ocarina and sword, and followed after him.

[Magus]

Dalaran was big. In fact, it was very big. Magus hid his shock, but despite the place being described as a city, he had been expecting a mage’s college, not an actual city, filled to capacity with spell-slingers of all kinds. He could feel stray magical energies flying this way and that, colliding with one another, mixing, separating, and diffusing into the sky. Magus could feel the thrum of magical tension all around him, and his own powers seethed and crackled beneath his skin.

Towers and cathedral-like structures stretched upward in every district of the city, but seemed oddly appropriate, as though nature had somehow willed these buildings into being atop a huge floating peninsula. Stone apartments overlooked administrative buildings, and everywhere there were gardens, pools, and ponds where people gathered to reflect and meditate.

The place was actually quite beautiful, and seemed devoid of the usual grime and subtle decay of most cities. The walkways had none of the cracks and pitting of wear, dust gathered nowhere, and all of the buildings, though noticeably archaic, were completely pristine. Magus had to remind himself that the Omniverse itself wasn’t very old at all, but even so, he knew some kind of magic was at work to keep Dalaran so suspiciously unmolested by time.

The man deftly slipped and bobbed through the living traffic that pulsed like diseased tissue, threatening to burst from the streets and infect the surrounding structures. Magus easily navigated the narrow gaps and crevices that repeatedly appeared and disappeared within and between the bodies around him, sliding forward like a shadow.

He assumed the little blond boy was following him. Magus had told him that he would not slow down for Link, and he’d meant it. It would have been unfortunate to lose track of the wielder of such interesting magic, but it wasn’t particularly important right now. He was getting close.

Suddenly, the pallid man veered into an alleyway and the thunder of voices and footsteps and pungent spears of sweat and other human filth became muted and warped, like listening to a conversation while underwater. Magus half threw himself against the nearest wall and allowed himself the slightest sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before gazing over to the mouth of the alley. As expected, Link broke from the crowd and into the narrow corridor after him.

“We’re being watched,” Magus announced.

“I noticed it too. They’re following us,” Link replied.

“Did you notice anyone else?”

“No,”

The man’s lip curled in annoyance, but he reverted to his poker face at once. “They’re also watching from the rooftops. I spotted at least two of them,” Magus’ crimson eyes focused on Link’s like two fiery spears boring into him. They lacked emotion, compassion, energy. A haunting pressure settled onto Link.

There was no time for Magus to admonish the boy for failing to spot them. “I can’t tell if they mean to harm us, or if they’re simply concerned about newcomers.”

“It wouldn’t be good to let them watch us if we’re looking for the library,” Link replied. “We should draw them out somewhere, or at least find out why they’re watching us.”

Magus nodded and shifted his gaze back to the mouth of the alley. “I thought we might run.”

Link nodded, “Where to?”

The Fiendlord allowed a slight smirk. The boy had already shown he was fairly capable, but he was still surprised to see Link catch onto his plan so quickly. “There is a particularly large courtyard to the east of us. You’ll see a statue of some woman with long hair there. It seemed fairly empty. If we move to the center of the park, we should be able to see all of the people who are following us.”

“And then what? Right now they might not know we’ve picked up on them, but if we do that they’ll know for sure.”

“Yes, exactly,” Magus agreed, moving back toward the street.

“Hey, wait!” Link protested. The man halted for a moment. “What happens then?”

“One of two things,” Magus replied, brushing a stray lock of lavender behind a pointed ear. “Either they notice we’ve spotted them and they give up, or they confront us. If they decide to leave, we can move freely. If they decide to confront us, we can take the opportunity to learn about them. Possibly about the library.”

Without waiting for a reply, he plunged back into the cacophony that awaited them in the street, conscious of the eyes that immediately picked up on him again. At least two sets of them, but not as many as before. He’d expected that; it meant that some of them had covered the alley’s other exit, in case he and Link should have gone that route.

He tossed a look behind him only once; the boy from Hyrule could be seen here and there past the sea of rabble, almost all of them magic users. Magus did his best to stay on task, but the rush of nostalgia was too much.

The Kingdom of Zeal was the only other place in his life that he’d ever felt the pressure from so many magical auras all at once; to feel the spark of creation and destruction all around him, it was all at once exciting, terrifying, arousing, and revolting. His hands shook. All this magic, all this power. There were so many of them! Magus hoped they were kindred spirits; there was so much he could learn, but part of him hoped they were not, for the opportunity to test himself against them.

Fleet footwork put him in the center of the sprawling courtyard, occupied only by a few other souls than himself and Link, who arrived shortly afterward. The two of them easily fixated on those who were following them. “Do you see them?” he asked.

“No, but they’re there,” Link responded.

“And the others? On the rooftops?”

“Yeah, three of them. Two opposite the ones who are following us, one to our right.”

The mage nodded. “Stand your ground. We want to make it obvious we’re waiting for them. Stay ready; we have no idea how they’ll react to us.”

They both stood fast, their eyes scanning from the ones on the ground to the ones on the rooftops. They were good. Their movements were almost impossible to pick up, more difficult now than before, probably because they knew now they had been spotted.

Soon, Magus and Link could feel themselves ringed in. They were flanked on three sides by each of the rooftop stalkers, and on the fourth by the ones who’d been following them in the street. “They’re coming toward us.”

Two figures broke from the crowd onto the perfect emerald grass of the courtyard and made their way toward them. The figures were men, one tall and lanky, the other average height and heavyset, both wearing hooded yellow robes adorned with white striping and markings, their cowls drawn nearly to their noses. Both of them approached, stopping abruptly about ten feet away when Magus’ grip on his scythe tightened up. “Watch them, these are snakes,” he hissed.

“Who are you?” asked the fat one. Magus could only see a mouth and stubble from beneath the hood, not enough to get an idea of what the man looked like. He found himself at a distinct informational disadvantage. Perhaps he could fix that.

“We should be asking you that question,” he retorted. “We’ve come here and done nothing inappropriate, and we find you two following our every move.”

“Oh, we’re guides,” the tall one unconvincingly declared.

“Yeah,” the other continued. “We were just hoping to help you get where you needed to go.”

“Do guides often obscure themselves to follow their clients in Dalaran?” Magus inquired. “Would it not be easier to simply ask us if we needed help finding a location?”

A devilish grin played across what could be seen of the tall one’s face. “You’re right,” he replied. “What we’re really here for is to play,” he lowered his voice. “You see, we can tell the both of you are new here, to the Omniverse. This place gets boring after a while. So much repetition! But you, and the boy,” he licked his lips. “It’ll be nice to have a couple of playthings around. There are so many experiments I’ve been meaning to run!”

“So, just you and the round one, then?” Magus asked with a tone of disinterest, tossing his cape over one of his shoulders.

“Or are your three friends going to join you?” Link added. To his satisfaction and that of the Fiendlord, their new acquaintances seemed to be momentarily at a loss for words.

“You two are smarter than you look,” the squat man grumbled, visibly annoyed that neither of their victims appeared to be taking the situation seriously. He made a sharp gesture over his head. Almost immediately, the three figures disappeared from their vantage points. “That’ll make this all the more interesting, don’t you think, Sif?”

The tall one, evidently called Sif, nodded. “It’s been a while since newcomers posed any threat. You know the funny part?” he paused for a moment. “If you’d just let the boy ask for directions, you’d probably be at the library already.”

“So, you know where it is?” Magus replied, as three more hooded figures, evidently the ones who’d been watching from the rooftops, stepped into view behind the first two.

“Of course,” Sif responded. “It’s no secret.”

Then, he snapped his fingers. In a flash, Magus, Link, and the five hooded people stood on a raised, stone platform, surrounded by nothing but endless green fields that seemed to stretch on for eternity.

“What-”

“Oh, it’s my version of an Isolation Verse. Unlike the typical pocket dimension you can buy from a merchant, this place allows me to transport and hold any number of people for as long as I like,” Sif responded.

“So, you understand yet? We can take as long as we like to break the two of you, or you can simply get on your knees and surrender now,” the heavy one withdrew a small metal rod which began to violently buzz and spark with electricity. “If you give up, we won’t have to hurt you. Much.”

Magus threw his scarlet cloak off of his concealed arm, thrusting a palm crackling with black energy forth. It arced from his hand to the fat man almost of its own will, piercing through him with ease before racing ahead into obscurity.

With a forced, high pitched “Hhhu-uuungh,” the cloaked man dropped his baton and simply rolled backward on his heels before smacking into the concrete, his hood falling back to expose his upturned nose, beady black eyes, and wobbling cheeks. He was sweating now, like a priest caught spending time with a whore.

“Perhaps you haven’t understood the situation,” Magus coolly responded, lowering his arm back to his side. “We’re not the ones in danger. You are. It may be a good idea to let us out of here, and to tell us where the library is, so we don’t have to hurt the rest of you.”

“Oh, you think you’re special, do you?” Sif growled, his hands suddenly shrouding themselves in a pulsating orange effervescence. “I’ve got this arrogant piece of trash. He took Ryland by surprise but he won’t get me. You take care of the kid. Break his legs if he’s trouble.”

The other three robed people started toward Link, who immediately drew his sword and shield. Magus gripped his scythe with both hands to square off with Sif, while Link prepared to do battle with his three goons.

“You’re going to regret killing my friend,” Sif growled.

[Illidan Stormrage]

Magus was strong. A single bolt of power from his hand punched through one of their aggressors like he was made of water. Link really wished he could sense magical energy to get an idea of Magus' strength, but at least he'd seen what he was capable of now. Link knew he could take care of himself with this Sif character, but now the Hylian had his own battle about to begin. Three robed men approached him, their hands open and fingers lithe. They appeared to be spellcasters much like Magus, lacking physical strength but with a great understanding of the arcane arts.

"Stay back!" Link said, cutting at the air with the Master Sword. "This battle won't go well with you if you press me."

One of the robed men chuckled, although it was higher than a man. He lifted his head enough to let the light wash over his lips and nose. They were curvy, plump lips, with a thin nose.

"Don't worry darling, we've had a lot of experience in pressing people."

Link's eyes widened. He was squaring off against a woman. He pushed back a sudden chivalrous thought and focused on the battle ahead. Link had tangoed with women before, although he hadn't acclimated to it. Battling females always made him feel uneasy, as if he were doing something wrong. At least that's how he felt about it until he entered the Gerudo lands and ended up being captured. It was a simple escape with his hookshot, but after that he learned the deadly swordsmanship that the Gerudo women possessed, and refused to give them an inch after that. He remembered how their veils fluttered across their faces as their curved scimitars rained down blow after blow, their beauty at odds with their lethality.

The cowled woman obviously noticed Link's countenance change. "Something the matter? Is the kid afraid to fight a girl?" She laughed.

Link hated being called a kid. Granted, he was one of the youngest he'd seen since arriving in the Omniverse, but he was far from a child. Not only had he saved Hyrule from destruction and enslavement, he was a teenager! He was almost an adult! He controlled his annoyance, but one day he felt it would all bubble to the surface.

To prove the female sorceress wrong, Link dashed forward and swung his blade. She hopped backwards, easily dodging the attack, while the robed man on the left conjured a bolt of energy and fired. Spotting the light in the corner of his eye, Link slashed at the projectile, destroying it. The other mage on the right also launched an attack, catching the Hero of Time on his shield. The small explosion sent Link stumbling backwards. Once he found his stability, he inspected his Hylian shield. A black scorch covered the Triforce design.

"Careful," the woman said. "There's three of us and only one of you. You can't attack so haphazardly if you want to survive."

"Then attack me!" Link said, trying to bait them. Instead they stood still, hands half open in anticipation. Link couldn't see their eyes, but he knew they were watching every move he made.

"Why would we do that?" she asked. "We outnumber you. It's easier to let you expose yourself when you attack and then pounce."

Link could see the intelligence in that, but his warrior blood was boiling. He couldn't tell how Magus was doing, but he didn't want to drag this fight out if he could help it. He looked to the reflective sheen in the Master Sword, seeing both male mages in one side of the blade. How could he defeat them if they only attacked when he did? As he stared at their reflections, an idea dawned.

"Enough talk," Link said. He rushed towards the woman again, lifting his sword into the sky for a downward slash. As he predicted, she hopped backwards. The Hylian warrior instead took a large leap forward and slammed his shield into her, knocking her to the ground. Before the female mage made it to the floor, Link could hear the sizzling energy attacks on their way. He ducked and rolled backwards, allowing the two bolts to collide. A small explosion rang out and Link heard a woman shout. A cloud of smoke shrouded the area, and Link dove back into it. The two male mages attacked again, their energies colliding and building on the smokescreen around them. They continued attacking blindly, some attacks impacting on each other and others whizzing off into the distance.

Soon the cloud was obscuring a large portion of the field. Link picked the mage on the right first, using the bright wisps of light fired from his hand to find his exact location. He quickly descended on him from behind, taking him down with a clean strike. Link looked to the other male mage. The woman had been hit the first collision, but where she was now was a mystery.

The haze suddenly swirled and evaporated, leaving Link exposed before he could finish the other male mage. The female was standing, arms apart. Her robe was singed and she had removed her hood. Her cobalt eyes stared daggers into Link as lightning crackled at her fingertips.

"That was a clever trick," she said. "Maybe we didn't give you enough credit." She looked to the other mage. "Lars, attack him!"

The male sorcerer wiggled his fingers, and soon light danced in his palms. He threw a glowing ball at Link with tremendous force. Wasting no time, the woman thrust her clawed hands forward, shooting a deadly array of lightning bolts.Link rolled to the side of the electricity at the last moment, hearing the crackle of the energy sizzle past him. The energy ball passed by without much concern since he already dodged, but the speed of the electric attacks were almost instantaneous. If his two enemies planned ahead, Link would either fry on a spike of lightning or roll into a hellstorm of pure power.

The woman smiled. "You're a little more agile than I gave you credit for."

"You'll be surprised how fast you can move when your life literally depends on it," Link fired back.

Lars launched another energy ball as Link let himself be distracted by idle banter. In frustration, he slashed at the ball. Unbeknownst to both of them, the Master Sword reflected the orb, sending it screaming back at twice the speed. Lars hastily waved his arms to erect some sort of magical barrier, but there was no time. The energy ball crashed directly into his chest, his arms still moving erratically. An explosion and a scream mingled together amongst a thinning cloud. When it cleared, it was obvious Lars wasn't getting up again.

Link couldn't believe his luck. He forgot how the Master Sword reflected Ganondorf's energy balls in their final battle in Hyrule. Lars' magic must have been made of similar material.

The remaining sorceress was not pleased by Link's divine blade. She grimaced and the skin around her eyes pulled taut. "This has gone on long enough!"

She raised her hands and a lightning bolt struck her fingers from the sky. Tiny snakes ran all over her forearms and back to her fingertips. There was a greater quantity of electricity in her possession than her last attack. "Dodge this, if you can!"

Link's eyes widened as the sorceress fired her arcane magic. Jagged lines of buzzing death raced towards him. There was no time to dodge. Rolling to either side would cook him as well as if he did nothing at all. There was a slim chance of survival, and Link took it. Swiveling the Master Sword so the blade pointed down, Link jammed it into the ground. He crouched and raised his shield, hoping that it would be enough.

The Hylian warrior dared to peek over the rim of his shield. He watched as most of the lighting bolts struck the hilt of his sword, dissipating into the ground. A few shot past it and hit his shield, sending jolts of fuzzy tingles through his arm. Soon enough hit the shield to make Link's arms shake uncontrollably, and an acute burn coiled through his bones. Just as he was about to throw down the shield and surrender to his fate, the lightning abated.

Link stood and saw the sorceress panting heavily, small ringlets of electricity zapping over her hands. "That's ... that's impossible."

An opening! Link wasted no time. He snatched the Master Sword from the earth and charged forward. His foe wasn't completely done, though. She fired another bolt of lightning, although weaker and more desperate than before. Link snaked through three attacks before the fourth found its mark on his shield. Another tingle coursed up his arm but it was nothing compared to the earlier jolts. The Master Sword skewered the sorceress and she fell to the ground like her associates.

Link took a deep sigh to calm his nerves and eke out the tingling in his right arm and looked to Magus.

[Magus]

“Your friend?” his scarlet eyes swept from the dying, wheezing man back to Sif’s angry countenance. “You didn’t even seem particularly shocked when I struck him. Even now he’s in agony, and you’d rather fight me than tend to him.”

“He was more than a friend, you son of a bitch!” the ‘guide’ screeched, hurling a blast of orange energy at Magus. Sif’s fury meant he’d telegraphed everything about his attack; the Fiendlord hardly had to hurry to sidestep it.

He arched a blue eyebrow. “Your eg g lover, then?”

Sif twitched, but the two of them became blanketed in a suffocating silence. It was all the confirmation Magus needed. He thought it somewhat amusing; he’d meant the quip as a bit of an insult, not as a catalyst to learn a deeper truth about the man he now had to fight. “You should learn to keep your guard up,” he said. “Your arrogance will get you killed.”

Magus smirked, regarding Sif through lazy, half-lidded eyes. He wore an expression of supreme confidence as he began to speak. “Sif… you had come to myself and Link,” he looked over toward the boy to see him handily competing with the three wizards on his own. “Looking to turn us into your… slaves,” he chose the word because it was less disturbing than the other option, but he said it with no less contempt. “And you call me arrog-AUURGH-!!”

He saw white. He saw stark, empty white, like the Nexus, only without the fountain and strange people there. A horrible, searing pain dug into and crawled through his flesh, centered on his right shoulder and radiating outward to every inch of his body.

Magus couldn’t even begin to describe it. It was like every form of pain he had ever felt in his entire life, plus many other ones he’d never felt before, at the same time sublime and horrific, all tore at him at the same time. Sharp and dull pain, acute and nagging pain, every kind of pain he could imagine, it all assaulted him from somewhere beyond that veil of white.

Someone was screaming at him. He couldn’t really tell from where; his hearing seemed dull and disconnected, and without being able to see, he didn’t have any reference points anyway.

The white at the edges of his vision gave way to tendrils of black. Horrible, slithering, greasy blackness. It snaked toward him, writhing and squirming, its aura cold and vile. Its inherent wrongness screamed at him, made him shiver involuntarily. It felt like… necromancy. Only, Magus was no stranger to necromancy, despite its hideous nature. This felt somehow worse. He had to push it back.

He closed his apparently useless eyes and focused. He concentrated on sheathing himself with his magic, coating every part of himself with a semisolid magical membrane. That done, he reached within himself for the now-limited well of power he possessed, and commanded it to come spilling out, overflowing out of him as powerfully as he could muster.

His own energy fed into the sheath, before pushing it outward, sending it crashing into the tendrils of sickly magic trying to get at him. The uneasiness began to fade, and suddenly he found himself able to determine the source of the screaming.

It was him.

Magus stopped shouting, his throat now ragged and hoarse, and opened his eyes. Sif wore an expression somewhere between confidence and arousal, but immediately a brief look of astonishment betrayed him before he could mask it again.

“I thought I had you,” Sif declared. “You took that hit straight on without even knowing it was coming. Most people don’t come back from that even when the see it coming. Still, look how worn out you are,” he licked his lips. “It will be delicious to break you.”

Magus was sitting on the backs of his legs, knees on the concrete, his arms pinned to his sides like they were made of the same material. His scythe lay useless at his side, and he was covered in a sheen of cold sweat, his hair matted on his forehead. “What…” he paused, catching his breath. “What did you do to me?”

“Oh, did you like it?” Sif’s face split in a toothy, disturbing grin. “I turned the blast around behind you, sent it straight into your back. You were being sarcastic at the time, I believe. But did you enjoy it? The sensation, I mean,”

“It’s something I’ve spent a long time cooking up, as a result of my experiments. I… when I break people, I find it’s always more effective when I’ve discovered some kind of deep, personal truth about them. Some deep-seated pain, suffering, or weakness hidden away. The torture, physical and mental, once it reveals a secret like that, the person’s resolve has cracked just a tiny bit. Turn that personal truth against them and the rest of their defenses crumble away,”

“As for the magic I used against you, to be honest, I haven’t really considered a name for it, yet. It’s reserved for particularly resilient subjects, like yourself. You should consider it a bit of a compliment; I’m very good at what I do,” Sif grinned his stupid grin again.

“You’re insane. You don’t know anything about me,” the Fiendlord growled, gathering his will but remaining where he was. He couldn’t play his hand just yet. “What does any of your rambling nonsense have to do with knowing me?”

“Ah, but I’ve learned all I need to know about you,” Sif smiled and closed his eyes, forcing Magus to curl his lip in disgust at the hooded man who moaned and licked his lips. “You see, that pain or weakness hidden away is activated by my particular brand of magic. I draw it up, my power feeds on it. The more suffering a person bears, the more effective the magic. The more you hurt,” he chuckled.

“I’ve never heard someone scream like that. It… mmm… it made me shiver all over. You’ve spent your whole life torturing yourself and destroying everyone around you, haven’t you? Looking for her.”

Magus’ eyes went wide. No, he couldn’t know about her. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, cut the nonsense, Janus,” Sif pulled back his cowl to reveal his face. He was a pale man. Clean shaven with short brown hair. A small scar marked his cheek. But it was the fiery orange glow of his eyes - the same orange as the devilish energy that had struck Magus - that stood out. “I know who you are. I know what Mommy Dearest did to you and your sister. I know you’ve spent all this time searching for Scha-”

“Don’t you fucking say another word!!” the Fiendlord thundered, rolling to his right and over his scythe. He deftly snatched it up as he rolled up onto his feet, charging right at Sif.

“Yes!” the pain mage cackled. “You’ve already lost!!”

Sif laughed maniacally as he willed that orange power back into his hands, unleashing another burst of that heinous power. Magus saw it. He didn’t care. “Oooh, I know what I’m going to do when I’m done with you, Janus!” he shouted. “I’m going to find her, and I’m going to do much worse to her than I did to you for what you did to Ryland!”

Magus’ eyes darkened, and with a roar, he brought the blade of his scythe down on the crackling orange energy, detonating it in a harmless burst of light and motes.

Magus didn’t have time to register that it must have only been effective on contact with a living creature, one that could think and therefore feel and appreciate pain. His thoughts were all focused on what he’d do next.

He whirled the staff of his scythe around in his hand, to bring the spear-end opposite the blade to bear and hurled himself at Sif, impaling the stunned wizard and running him clean through before kicking him in the gut as with all of his gathered momentum, grotesquely sliding him off the scythe.

Sif hit the ground with a grunt and began to cough. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, and flecks of it fell on his face and chin from the coughing. His breaths were ragged and wheezy.

“You sound like your lover did in his last moments,” Magus’ eyes swept from Sif to Ryland - now a fresh corpse - and back again. Magus’ eyes were cold, but not the kind of cold they usually were. Eyes that were normally overburdened, weary, and disinterested were now fizzing and buzzing with bloodlust. “But I’m not going to let you meet him just yet.”

Magus stepped over Ryland’s corpse and picked up the heavy, iron rod he’d intended to use as a weapon. It was clearly an instrument meant to maximize pain and suffering. Good.

He looked over at Link. The sorceress was clearly a skilled elemental mage, seen easily by the enormous electrical storms generated from her fingertips. Magus considered this also to be good. Link seemed to be able to handle himself, and the boy being occupied left Magus and Sif alone for the moment.

He casually walked over to Sif, who lay bleeding next to his dead companion. He stood, gazing down at the beaten magister.

“Just-”

He didn’t wait for what Sif had to say. With a primal grunt, Magus swung the rod down hard onto Sif’s right kneecap, shattering it with a splintering pop. Sif screamed an animalistic scream, his whole body writhing and contorting in sick agony, and Magus brought the rod down again onto Sif’s remaining good knee, crushing it.

[Magus]

“You’ll never say her name,” Magus could barely be heard above Sif’s shrieking cries. He swung the rod again, obliterating Sif’s right ankle. “You won’t think of her. You won’t ever try to get anywhere near her,” he hurled the weapon down, breaking the other ankle. “You bought your death with your words.”

Magus raised the weapon up over his head, preparing for the final blow, when Sif raised his hands. “W-Wait!!” he spluttered through the pain. “If I die this dimension dies with me!! You’ll both be erased!”

“Then tell me how to get out.”

“You don’t,” Sif weakly snarled. “Only I can leave this place. I’ll leave you to rot here for all-”

Magus brought the rod down hard, eliciting a horrible, hollow crunch as he demolished Sif’s right elbow. “How do we get out, Sif?” he hissed.

“Diablo take you, you fucking mongrel! You fucking bastard!”

With another grunt of effort, Magus brought the rod down once more, pulverizing the bones in Sif’s right hand. “Wrong answer,” he growled. “You knew what you were doing when you threatened her. When you invaded my mind. You know what I’ll do to you.”

“You killed the only person I’ve ever cared for!!” Sif roared. “Who the fuck are you to punish me?! We’re both monsters, you and I! You know it just as well as I do!!”

“This monster would never have bothered you if you’d just left me alone,” Magus retorted. “I made the hard choices when I needed to. You do what you do because you enjoy it.”

“Fuck you! I reached into your mind! You’re just as guilty as me! Genocide just to keep your soldiers occupied?! All while you hung back putting all of the pieces of your little plot together. Hard choices,” he spat. “I bet it was a tough call for you to become the Messiah for a race of monsters.”

“How do we get out, Sif?” Magus repeated, tapping the end of the metal rod meaningfully.

“Fuck!” Sif squirmed and moaned in pain.

“You’ve still got one good arm,” Magus commented. “And teeth. A nose. Ribs. Collarbone. Hmm, orbital bones…”

“In my satchel, there’s a yellow stone. You just step on it. It’ll turn to powder. This place will collapse and we’ll be put back in the courtyard,” Sif groaned.

Magus lifted Sif’s robe with the metal rod. Mercifully, Sif was clothed underneath with a pair of worn burlap pants and a cotton tunic. He located the satchel and unclipped it from Sif’s belt, tossing it aside. “Glad you decided to cooperate,” he mumbled, and then with a bellow, he brought Ryland’s weapon down upon Sif’s good elbow, and then on his left hand, destroying both.

The Fiendlord was shaking, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Through gritted teeth, he snarled with each exhale, and turned to see how Link was doing. Unfortunately, the boy was staring at him. Magus didn’t know how long he was watching. He didn’t know what Link had seen.

He angrily hurled the weapon away and stooped to pick up the satchel. He rifled through it, throwing out everything he wasn’t after onto the floor. He discarded a water skin, some vials of questionable contents, a book or journal, and finally found a dull, yellowish-brown stone. “I’ll kill you as soon as we’re on the other side,” he said. It wasn’t a statement full of malice. The hateful edge to Magus’ voice had completely faded away. He uttered the threat as detached and cool as if he’d been talking about the errands he had to run that day.

He dropped the gem, gathered his scythe, and immediately brought his heel down on it, hard. It crumbled like chalk, and immediately there was a flash and they found themselves back in the courtyard in Dalaran.

True to his word, Magus willed a swirling orb of dark energy into his palm. It crackled with power as he focused his magic into it, building and concentrating the deadly sphere.

“Magus don’t-!!” Link shouted.

“Halt!!” came an authoritative voice. “By order of the Battlemages of Dalaran, stop what you’re doing immediately!”

Magus turned his head to the source of the voice. A muscular, raven haired man in chainmail glared at him, one hand on a partly-drawn short sword, the other leveled at him, fizzing with dark purple magic. Magus flicked his eyes around the scene. It looked bad.

Link was there, too, but thankfully he’d sheathed his sword before they made the jump back to Dalaran. There were four corpses around them and Sif lay in a miserable heap at Magus’ feet. He locked eyes with Sif and glared his white-hot fury at him. He spoke just loud enough for the two of them to hear. “You’ve got a long road to recovery, Sif. Doubt you’ll be going anywhere. I wouldn’t get too comfortable in that hospital bed. Or wherever you’ll be staying; shouldn’t be too hard to find a man in your condition, should it?”

Magus let the shadowy power in his palm fade away and lowered his arm to his side. He turned to the battlemage and set his scythe’s spike on the ground. “This man and his accomplices attacked us. We were defending ourselves and things got… heated.”

“I can see that,” came the reply. “You’re lucky. Sif is actually a very well-respected man in Dalaran. He was involved in a lot of high-level research. Until he disappeared after being accused of… suspicious activities,” he looked to Sif. “What have they done to you?”

“I had to attack him without restraint. I hit him as hard as I could. I’m sorry it turned out as… brutal as all of this,” Magus said quietly. It was mostly true.

“Bastard,” Sif seethed.

“Yes, well, it was a poor decision, Sif. Most involved in your investigation thought you innocent. You going into hiding… you damned yourself,” the battlemage shook his head, and looked back to Magus. “I’m Arthas. I’ll take over here, but I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for one of my colleagues to take you both in. We’ll need statements-”

“Please, we’re in a terrible hurry. It’s vital we get to your library as soon as possible,” Magus explained. It was a huge gamble, and he could see Link was already wary about it. He didn’t have any other choice; he wasn’t about to spend hours at some constabulary. “Could we just give our statements to you? We’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

It took some coaxing, but Arthas finally agreed. Link and Magus spent about an hour or two explaining, in detail, the events from their arrival to Dalaran all the way up until their return from Sif’s pocket dimension. Of course, details were phrased in the best possible light, and Arthas wrote down everything.

“Alright, I suppose I won’t keep you any longer,” Arthas said, putting his notebook into a bag at his hip. Two more men in similar garb to Arthas showed up and immediately began assessing the bodies and Sif. “You should know, however, that you cannot leave the city. We’ll need you around in case we need to question you further, and we will be keeping tabs on you.”

Magus nodded, and thanked Arthas for being so reasonable in the face of all that had happened. Indeed, Arthas was being shockingly understanding of the situation. Magus didn’t like it. It implied that they may have been watching for longer than he’d let on. Either that or this was the dumbest officer of the law Magus had ever met.

He got directions to the library from Arthas, said his goodbyes, and then immediately, he and Link strode of as fast as they could, rounding the first corner they came to. “Good. We’re not suspects, at least for now. We’ll go to the library, get the information we’ve come for, and we’ll leave in the dead of night. They won’t even know we’re gone until morning.”

[Illidan Stormrage]

Link had been quiet since the battlemage took their statements, speaking only when he was required. He listened to Magus' side of the events, mostly nodding along. There were a few embellishments that made Sif and his gang look worse, but Link didn't correct them. They were all dead, save the leader, and he was in such a terrible state that death may have been a comfort. They set upon them for no reason but to torment them. They deserved what they got. If Magus' story put Sif in jail, the people of Camelot were the better for it. Even then, his arm twitched infrequently from the lightning that swum through his shield. He hoped it would stop eventually. Permanent nerve damage to his shield arm was a prospect a Hylian knight like himself didn't warm to.

As Link walked beside Magus, the library their destination again, he remained silent. Every now and then Link glanced at the skilled mage, his pale face stern and red eyes fierce. Magus didn't so much as acknowledge Link's existence as they threaded through the people of Dalaran. Link knew Magus was deep in thought, just as he was.

After the Hero of Time dealt with the female mage proficient in electricity, he turned his attention back to Magus. Even as he looked to him, Link remembered Sif screaming at Magus. His voice was shrill and strained but strengthened by his desperate circumstances. The battle had been cruel to him; he lay broken on the floor, his limbs splayed and unmoving. Magus stood over him with a heavy mace in hand. Link walked closer, unable to hear Magus speaking. The next words out of Sif made the Hylian's blood chill.

"Fuck you!" Sif shouted, blood leaking from his lips. "I reached into your mind! You're just as guilty as me! Genocide just to keep your soldiers occupied?!"

His next few words went deaf to him. Link looked at the blood on his sword and then at Magus. Genocide? Magus had soldiers under his command? Link's mind immediately went to the twisted product of Hyrule Castle after Ganondorf had conquered it, and wondered if Magus had a dark fortress of his own. Was Sif telling the truth? Had he seen Magus' past with his magic, and witnessed a tyrant as evil as the Gerudo King? Or maybe he was smarter than he looked, and was trying to drive a wedge between the two allies before he died.

The benefit of the doubt in Magus slipped away quickly. He ordered for Sif to hand over the relic that would return them to Dalaran. He threatened violence if he didn't comply, but he did. Yet once Magus had the stone, he shattered the downed man's elbow and hand. Sif roared and sobbed. Link felt a chill wash from his throat to his stomach. Whatever Magus was, he wasn't merciful. Link would've never done that to a defeated enemy, not even Ganondorf. There was justice, and there was torture.

Magus had noticed Link at that moment. His eyes were wild, his breathing erratic despite his lack of exertion. A great fury had seized him, but about what Link couldn't tell. Something Sif said must have struck a tender subject, or otherwise Magus was a baleful and cruel person. Perhaps it was both.

Once Magus broke their containment, he was still bent on finishing Sif. Link had already sheathed his weapon, but Magus pooled ink black energies into his palm. He remembered shouting at him, not just for Sif's sake, but for Magus'. A crowd of people encircled them, and killing someone in broad daylight was not something Link wanted to be associated with.

Thankfully the mage found his wits, but his anger shone in his threat. It hadn't subsided after they were victorious, and Link wasn't sure it had subsided yet. There were so many doubts swirling in Link's mind. What sort of person had he teamed up with? When it came down to it, Link had no idea. A deeply wounded man, brought to fury by a reminder of his hurt, or a quick tempered thug with great power at his disposal?

"Magus," Link said, his throat dry. "What happened back there?"

Magus ignored him.

"You have to say something," Link pressed. "Did he say something to make you get so angry?"

Magus' face twitched, but he didn't otherwise react. "We're almost at the library."

"Magus-"

The mage stopped suddenly and turned on Link. His voice was low and cold. "That was a hint. I don't want to talk about this. Don't bring it up again."

Link held his breath at the icy tone. "OK. Sure. Let's find the library."

Magus turned on his heel and walked off. Link jogged to catch up with him again.

The two knowledge seekers squeezed between the crowds and looked down a line of alleyways, Magus in the lead. He paused at each, scrutinising them for something, and then moved to the next. Link stole a glance in them as well, but they all looked identical and in no way important. They continued in this fashion for a short while until Magus stopped at the mouth of an alleyway and walked through. Link hurried after him.

The alleyway looked like any of the others they passed. A rat scurried past Link's boot, squeaking in fear of the two giants. No one leaned against the wall here though, and there was no pervading smell of urine. In fact, it was the cleanest alleyway they'd come across. Magus was walking forward with purpose, his deep purple cape floating behind him. Link looked ahead but saw nothing.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Link said, catching up with him. "There's no difference between this alley and the last."

"I'm sure," Magus said. "The door's just ahead."

Link frowned. There was only empty space and a dead end.

They walked the full length of the alley. The walls pinched closer together, leaving them with less space on either side. Link noticed a distinct lack of light; looking up, the sky was still visible. Something vibrated on his back. Link gripped the hilt of his sword; it was oscillating, barely, as if reacting to something nearby.

Magus placed a gloved hand on the brick dead end. He closed his eyes and white shafts of light pierced the gap between his fingers. In moments the entire wall shone white, illuminating the dim alleyway. It soon faded, and in its place stood two wooden double doors with gold and purple embroidery over it, styled like overgrown vines and flowers. Magus pushed against them and they easily parted. "This is the place."

Link walked through after Magus into a small, Y shaped foyer. It was quite plain, considering the level of effort it took to get here; twin couches rested against either wall of the hallway. Two men in white robes guarded the hallways that lead away from a desk straight ahead of them. A wizened, greying woman sat over a pile of books, holding a small pair of glasses attached to a rod over her eyes. She looked up at them, disinterest plain in her dull eyes. "I haven't seen you two here before. What can I do for you?"

"We'd like to use the library," Magus said.

"Of course you do," she said. "Why else would you be here?" She hopped off a stool behind the desk, and soon her grey beehive hairstyle was all that was visible of her. She rounded the desk and walked up to them, no taller than Link's waist. She reminded Link of the Kokiri and how small they were, and then wondered if this was some sort of humbling cycle, that one day he would return to a diminutive height.

The elderly woman cleared her throat. A blood red ruby adorned her neck above a plain white blouse and long grey skirt. "New patrons need to demonstrate an understanding of magic, or have dire need of the knowledge here, to enter. Since I know you two have never come here before, you must show one or both of these things to me to get through."

Link looked at the guards. Although clad in simple cloth, they were large and muscular, both wielding a staff in one hand, the other resting on the pommel of a sheathed sword on their belt.

Magus rose a hand. A shimmering spark burst to life and floated lazily upwards. It stopped above their heads and erupted in a small shower of light like a miniature firework.

The short woman lifted her glasses to her eyes and looked Magus over. "Nice party trick, but I can sense you're a mage." She looked at Link. "And you?"

Link's eyes widened. He didn't know any spells. In Hyrule he had several diamond relics that activated certain powers, but he had none of them now. Sweat sprouted on his forehead and swam in his eyebrows. "Uh ..."

"If you don't have any proof of arcane knowledge, I can't let you in," she said firmly.

"Wait!" Link said. He fumbled inside his tunic and pulled out the Ocarina of Time. "I have this! This is magic!"

The custodian shrank her eyes and looked over it. She took it from his hands, rolled it over and put it in her mouth. She played a loud, sharp note, eyed it some more, then gave it back to Link. "An interesting artifact. I can sense the power inside it. But it's not enough."

"What?"

"This is a place of knowledge, for learned people to discover more about their craft. It's not for some uncouth relic hunter to find out the location of his next big score."

"What about this, then?" Link said, withdrawing the Master Sword. The guards swiftly yanked their blades from their belts and walked forward. "Wait! Wait! I'm not attacking! It's a magic sword!"

She peered at it. "Yes, it is. Quite a powerful one at that. Still, if anything, it makes my earlier statement all the more true."

The Master Sword disappeared back into it's sheath. "Ok, listen to this."

Link wet his lips and raised the Ocarina of Time to his mouth. He closed his eyes and Zelda's Lullaby spun sweet notes into the air. The royal family song opened specific locations in Hyrule just from its own power, and Link hoped the old woman could see the magic as it filled their ears. Even as he played, Link could've sworn he heard Sheik strumming along with her harp.

He let the last note linger. "Yes," the old woman said. "I can see you're more than just a relic hunter. Good." She waddled back to her desk and hauled herself onto the stool. "You may enter. Either door will take you into the library."

Link followed Magus through the left door, and at once they were in a massive, circular room. Endless rows of oak bookshelves stood guard like some great army of knowledge. Craning his head up, Link saw the majestic artwork upon the domed roof. It was of a magnificent blue sky, with Dalaran featuring prominently above Minas Tirith. The colours dazzled Link, and strangely shone with their own light, as if it were a giant stained glass window. Several stories above them rung around the outside of the room, each floor with innumerable arcane collections. A large orangutan moved about on knuckles and feet above them.

"This place is incredible!" Link said.

Magus looked at him with a steely gaze. "Focus. We're here for information about Omni."

"Right," Link said. "So where do we start?"

"We could spend a lifetime sifting through these shelves," Magus said. "I'll see if I can find an attendant. They may know the volume we seek."

"And me?"

"Start looking. You might happen across it while I find help."

"OK. I'll see what I can find."

They parted ways. Link strolled the length of one bookcase to get an idea of how much knowledge the room had. It took him a solid three minutes to walk from one end to the other. He peered down the row and couldn't see where the last bookcase ended. The amount of knowledge here was almost beyond comprehension. He itched with restlessness. How was he supposed to find anything remotely related to Omni?

There was nothing for it. Link brushed his fingers along the book spines, reading their titles. There was a lot of information on subjects he barely knew anything about; biology, astronomy, geology, medicine and magic tutelage were the most common themes he found in the bookcase. Still he persisted, his eyes running over books and books of knowledge but had no interest to him. Link understood why the library's location was so difficult to find. He imagined what sort of damage could be done if someone like Ganondorf researched the books here. He really hoped Magus wasn't like Ganondorf.

To break the tedium, Link read the names of the books aloud. "Harpies: The Complete Collection, Hayle's Guide to Helium, Herbs and Medicine, Herbs and Witchcraft, The History of Hyrule, Horticultural Techniques for -"

Link paused. Did he read that right? He skipped back a book. The History of Hyrule. Link pulled it from the bookcase, his mind ablaze with curiosity. It was a heavy tome, thick with gilded pages. The Triforce glimmered in gold on the green cover, along with three symbols Link recognised as the insignas for the goddesses. Link walked away, searching for a table where he could read the book, since he couldn't support the weight in one hand. Eventually, after rounding the bookcase and walking for ten minutes down the aisle, he found a table where a bookcase would normally be and sat down. The book hit the table with a deep crash, and Link heard a hissing "shhhh" from somewhere.

Quietly he opened the cover, the pages in mint condition. The table of contents listed every era of Hyrule known by the author; from the birth of the world by Din, Farore and Nayru, the time of the Hero of Legend and the forging of the Master Sword, all the way to ... Link stopped and furrowed his brow. There were three different headers after his own age's entry. He read each in turn, silently mouthing them. The Missing Hero Timeline, The Victorious Hero Timeline, and The Defeated Hero Timeline. What did that mean?

A memory came unbidden from his discussion with the Hero's Shade. <Throughout Hyrule's history, there have been Heroes who have stepped forward into the roles the goddesses predestined for them. The Hero of Legend, the first of his kind. Sure enough, he'd seen that entry beneath the creation of the world. <The Hero of Men, who triumphed in the War of the Bound Chest.> Again, his words were proven by the book. <There are other Heroes, further into the future, that surface when the cry is loudest. And between them all, linking them together, is the Hero of Time.>

Was all of that true? Was he some sort of crossroads for the Heroes of Hyrule? None of it made any sense, but he knew the truth was in the book. Yet, where should he start? A narcissistic thought urged him to read over how his time had been recorded. Another thought yearned to know the Heroes that followed in his footsteps, but Link was wary of pursuing that. There was a chance he could stumble upon his future. Did he want that? He may find something he didn't like, and he didn't know if he could change it.

Link went with his first idea. He opened the tome to the entry "The Hero of Time and the Seven Sages" and began reading. Once he reached the end, he'd consider his options then.

[Magus]

Magus walked with purpose down the narrow aisle between towering shelves of old books. They looked old enough to be covered in a layer of dust so thick it would never wash off, but these books were, aside from their obvious wear and decay, pristine. Covers had faded but not from exposure; they’d simply been handled so many times over so many years that the color had been worried away from where hands had touched them the most.

He felt as though, in his hurry he would blow these ancient tomes open, loose leaves of knowledge ages old scattering in his wake, and it took every ounce of his will to keep from breaking into a full sprint. He considered what he’d do if someone entered the aisle. Would he slow down?

…No.

The Bellator Arcanum, the arcane warrior, looked ahead but didn’t see. He was too busy running events through his mind. How easily Sif had set him off. How… extreme his response had been.

He would have shivered in disgust if he hadn’t already done considerably worse things. Magus knew what he was, but he took no pleasure in it.

Schala,

The thought that Sif might hurt her. The knowledge that Sif could hurt her. Or at least, that Magus was not sure he couldn’t. It was the first time he’d felt something since slaying the mighty Lavos.

He stifled a sneer. He’d hoped to feel vindicated at the fall of the monster he’d spent his whole life obsessing over. He yearned for absolution. He hoped saving the world would convince the Universe to take pity on him for the things he had done and return his sister to him.

Fate chose not to be so kind. The monster slain, but the princess still lost. Magus had intended to search all of space and time, until he died, if he had to, and then found himself here. Not precisely ‘here.’ The Nexus.

The Omniverse.

Magus stopped a moment, heart racing and breath short. Stress, he thought. Perhaps that’s all it was. Perhaps Sif was the unfortunate outlet for the intense stress of the last few days.

Perhaps he was just rationalizing the terrible things as he had always done in the past. How he’d believe the lies he spun, fooled by his own carefully crafted deception, or at least enough to cloud the truth.

He wondered what to do about Link. It was obvious he’d seen everything. Not everything, but enough. It shook him that the Hylian pressed him, and he had snapped at the boy. He ran a hand through a lavender tuft and sighed, defeated.

Telling Link the truth, explaining to him why Magus had been so upset, it was the right thing to do. It surprised Magus that he felt a twinge of guilt at the knowledge that he couldn’t tell Link anything. A pang of regret that the young warrior would probably look at him as a monster for what he had done.

That he would look upon you for what you are, he reminded himself. It didn’t matter anyway. The kid was interesting only because of the strange magic he possessed. That his artifacts possessed. Link wasn’t even part of the equation. Magus clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

Traveling with that band of deranged, bleeding-heart adventurers had just made him soft. Being thrown into a new reality had made him weak. Here, more than ever, things needed to be as they should be. He did best on his own; he could not afford companions or protégés.

“Fiendlord,” he breathed. He’d earned that name. It was part of him now. He had accepted that. He could never be like Link now. Like Crono, Lucca, or Marle. Like Glenn.

With a grunt of annoyance, he pressed on, moving more quickly than last time. Dwelling on what had been or could have been was pointless. Right now, he needed to find a way to the Oververse.

The aisle suddenly ended and Magus found himself in a small rectangle of open space, surrounded by rows and rows of shelves. A table and four chairs sat at the center of the reading area, and two couches faced opposite each other, one on either side of the table.

And nobody was here. The practitioner of arts arcane rolled his eyes and stepped into the aisle he’d come from, retrieving the book. He stepped into the reading area again and flicked the book haphazardly across the room. It fell on the floor next to the couch and burst into glowing blue light and a dull puff of motes, and then it was gone.

Magus leaned against the side of the couch and waited. If he was right, he would soon have an irate (and possibly, dangerously powerful) librarian to deal with. If he was wrong, then nothing would happen. Well, either nothing, or possibly two or three or five of those Battlemages might show up. He considered that nothing would probably be more desirable.

Suddenly, an orangutan swooped in overhead. At first, Magus hadn’t seen what it was, just that a big, hairy, thing was racing toward him, swinging in from overhead, atop the stacks.

It landed in front of him, the book that Magus had thrown in hand. It went to the spot he’d taken the book from, and returned it there. The orangutan had just about leapt back up into the stacks when Magus opened his mouth and shouted.

“Wait!!”

The orangutan angrily shushed him and ambled up to him. Magus looked down into piercing, intelligent eyes. “You’re no ordinary orangutan, are you?”

It shook its head ‘no.’

“I’m looking for a librarian or curator. Could you help me?”

It pointed to itself.

“You will?” Magus asked. It pointed to itself again. Over and over again, emphatically, it would point at itself. “…You. You’re the librarian.”

The orangutan grunted as an affirmative.

“I see…” he found himself struggling for words. This orangutan must have been a victim of transformative magic of the kind he himself had used to transform a man into an anthropomorphic frog. This magic was more refined, however. The Librarian, since Magus had no other thing to call him, looked like a real orangutan and was only human in its eyes. “I was… pointed here in search of a way to confront Omni. A way to the Oververse.”

The orangutan seemed to glare up at him.

“I need to get there. I need to see him. You must help me,” Magus glared right back down at the Librarian.

[Magus]

A monkey. A goddamn monkey held the key to the God of the universe he’d found himself in and the thing couldn’t even speak a word of English.

Magus gingerly rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes while quietly taking a deep breath. He knew not to be frustrated by the situation; there was nothing for it.

Today was a bad day.

“I was told you would be the only person who could assist me with this. I have spoken to Thrall who sent me your way,” Magus added. It was true, technically.

The Librarian studied him for a while, and then leapt up onto the top of one of the endless rows of shelves and bounded off.

Today was a really bad day.

Magus growled, low, at first, but it grew in volume and his hardly-contained rage seemed to seethe out of him like sweat beading from a cold glass on a hot summer’s day.

As the intensity of his guttural fury grew, so did the arcane energies within him. Raw, dark power crackled around him, angrily fizzing and popping.

Before he could do something rash, like send wave after concentric wave of oblivion through the library, the Librarian swept down from overhead, a brown piece of parchment in one hand and a quill and inkwell grasped in the other.

With a grunt, the orangutan slapped the paper onto the nearby table and set the inkwell down next to it, dipping the quill before hastily scrawling a message.

I can indeed help find what you seek, magister. In exchange, you need to respond to the emergency.

Magus glared down at the messy writing. For some reason, he’d expected finely crafted prose, or at least something approaching legibility.

“What emergency?” Magus inquired, already feeling the nag of annoyance crawling up inside of him. He was getting very, very tired of these constant interruptions sprouting between him and his goal.

Camelot is being besieged by a Rathalos. It is like a dragon, but not self-aware like dragons are. They are still extremely dangerous and cunning. Help Camelot and I should be obliged to help you, though I strongly suggest against trying to ‘confront’ Omni; we know nothing about him and you’ll likely not come back.

“All of you revere Omni. Have any of you met him since the first time you got here? Somehow I doubt the man behind the curtain is as grand as he wants us to believe,” Magus retorted. “I am, however, in a difficult predicament. I need to see Omni immediately, and you are going to help me.”

Not until Camelot’s predicament is dealt with.

Magus snarled and stepped less than an inch away from the Librarian’s face, stiffly towering over the slouched orangutan. “What’s to stop me from finding the information on my own?”

Nothing. Except that you would need two references from citizens of Dalaran who can attest as to your character. Good luck.

Magus breathed a deep sigh. It wouldn’t do to get confrontational, not after having gotten away with attempted murder not more than two hours ago. Although part of him felt that coercing people to vouch for his character seemed like a more direct solution.

“I’m going to find my compatriot, then head outside. I’ll solve your issue for you, since, apparently, all of Camelot can’t do it on its own,” he said, a hard edge in his voice. “And when I get back, you will give me the information I’m looking for, or I’ll burn your library and everyone in it to cinders.”

The Librarian didn’t bother writing anything. Instead, he gathered his things, and leapt up on top of the shelves and out of sight. Magus flicked his cape behind his shoulders and stalked down the aisle.

- - - - -

The Fiendlord stepped outside the cavernous library alone. There was no reason to bring Link; better to have one of them keep looking for the information in case things with the dragon became too interesting.

Magus traced his steps back to his own, inferior, Omnilium dragon-copy, and leapt onto his perch at the nape of its neck. Supplied with only Magus’ will to spur it on, the creature catapulted into the air above the magic city. They sailed up, and without knowing where to go, he guided the dragon high up into the air where he spotted a wing of armed Pegasi-riders racing through the air distantly below.

The dragon’s glassy black scales glittered brightly in the day’s pale light as it plummeted through the air to aggressively draw aside with the sky-cavalry.

“Are you after the Rathalos?” Magus inquired before any of the visibly-irate riders could voice their agitation.

“Are you friend or enemy?” an officer among them demanded, forgoing the usual protocol. It didn’t cover dragon-riding Primes falling out of the sky.

“Neither. I’m after the Rathalos, thus my question, ‘are you after the Rathalos?’”

The leader, the one who’d spoken to him, bristled at the impetuous dragon-rider’s tone but masked his displeasure well.

A not-so-distant roar bellowed through the air.

“Aye. We’re close. Ride with us and you’ll have your fill of the Rathalos.”