Life on the Streets

[curseoftheslighted]

Ragin smiled, his red eyes shining with mischief of a young boy.

More swiftly than anyone could have seen, he jumped to the next rooftop, landing silently on bent knees, turning his eyes trailed the ground below, where only a few merchants were up and about at such a time, he didn't mind. In fact, he preferred the early hours, where few people where awake to interfere.

His red eyes caught sight of a rug, its ends tucked up on the roof of a small stand. Grasping onto his knife, he abruptly stopped, and stepped over his left leg and chucked it with all his might.

The knife flew over slashed the very top of the rug, and embedded itself into a wooden board. The merchant, a chubby man with a full grown beard on his face, watched in muted shock as the boy jumped down from the top of the building, grabbed the fallen item and dashed down the street in a blink of an eye.

Ragin just laughed, he was way too good at his job.

He climbed up a crate and through a window, running past a startled little girl, he jumped out the opposite window and grabbed onto a wooden pole, pulling himself up on the roof above, he continued along this way, until dropping down into a back alley.

It was cold and dark down here, but it was his home, walking down the cobbled stone roads, he ignored everyone he pasted, knowing that giving a wrong look to this crowd (Especially with his eyes) could start a fight he would rather much avoid.

Finally he reached the place he was looking for, a small corner side shop, with a large dirty curtain as a door, with a long rip in the corner. Pulling it back, he walked inside.

There sitting behind the counter was a small man, with a disfigured back. When he smiled it revealed that his teeth was a dark shade of yellow. Despite his frightening appearance, Ragin knew that Decalio alone was probably one of the few honest merchants here in the back alleys.

"Ay! Ragin, my boy! Glad to see your life and healthy! So, what do you have for me today?" He smiled and walked up, showing Decalio the rug. The man rubbed it, valuating it with a keen eye, smiling he turned back and said, "Nice, very nice, you must have worked very hard to by this!"

There, Ragin blushed slightly, feeling guilty. Though he and Delcalio were close, he had not yet told him the truth of his occupation. He knew it would break the man's heart. But what could he do about it? He was poor, homeless and alone. He had to do what he could to survive, once his parents deaths were atoned for, he could turn to a life of chivalry. And die penniless for all he cared.

However for now, he had to keep on stealing, and keep on training. "My friend, I believe this should cover the expenses. Can I have it now?" The man chuckled and walked to the back of the room, when he came back he was holding a small short sword.

He handed it to Ragin, "Here, give it a try." The boy smiled as he grabbed the weapon, swinging it around, enjoying the feel of the metal in his hands. Sheathing it, he turned to Delcalio who watched his performance in interest. "So," he said, "What ya gonna do with that sword?"
Ragin smiled, "I plan on participating in the Spring Festival." But he realized that he said the wrong thing to the wrong person, for Delcalio frowned.
"Boy, I hope you know what your doing. The Festival's matches are rough fights, this year they say grown knights will be in the contest. There will be men there far stronger, and more experienced then you could ever hope to be."
"But the prize..." Ragin muttered, hoping that the man would not hear him. Of course he did.
Smirking Delcalio said, "Of course, the prize awarded to the winner a free five weeks trip to Clock Town in Termina. Is it really worth it boy?"

Ragin didn't answer him, yet turning around as he was heading toward the exit, he muttered so softly that the man barley heard it, "More than you could ever imagine"

[MajikNiNE]

Aniki blinked as she crossed the drawbridge, the din of voices up ahead causing hesitation to slow her steps. The sweet scent of food wafted from up ahead, as well as the lively tune of music. But this didn't ease her. She recalled the reactions she recieved in Kakariko City, and the memory of all those horrified, disgusted faces caused her to stop completely. Face turning sweaty, Aniki could only stare before her mutely.

A guard stared at her from where he stood near the drawbridge. Nose wrinkling at her clothes, he brandished his spear and called out gruffly, "Hey you!"

The woman jerked around, startled. Eye fixing on the guard with visible fear, the Sheikah took a hasty step back.

The guard's eyes narrowed at this reaction, and holding his spear before him, the man began to walk toward her. "What's the matter with you?"

Aniki's eye widened at the sight of him approaching, unconsciously she reached for her tomahawk.

The guard's eyes widened and he fell back into a fighting stance. "Hey just what do you-!?"

Aniki jumped back at the man's harsh voice, pulling out her tomahawk, she reached into the bag on her left side. Pulling out a deku nut, the girl threw it viciously down onto the ground, the bright flash blinding the guard, causing him to reach up to his eyes.

But Aniki was running, she headed toward the sound of voices, their volume causing her ears to ring with the unfamiliar sound of a crowd. Turning the bend, she entered the main square, shoving past any and all who were in her way.

She needed to escape, she needed to become invisible.

A chorus of angry voices began to follow her as she made her way forward. She was only dimly aware of knocking over weapon racks and spilling jugs of water, only dimly aware of elbowing others in her haste to get away. But the angry voices fueled her, spurned her forward. Eye searching desperately for any where she could go, it lit upon a balcony, which hovered over a merchant's stand. Ducking an apple that was thrown at her head (Aniki was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that she now had to worry about the crowd around her more than the one guard,) the Sheikah leapt forward, onto the stand, and crouching low, she jumped up and grabbed hold of the balcony.

The owner of the balcony, a young woman with long red hair and curiously huge ears, screamed at the sight of Aniki hauling herself up onto her railing. The Sheikah, crouching on the railing like a gargoyle, shook her head and tried to say as soothingly as she could, "Please, do not be alarmed!" But when a tomatoe made its mark against the Sheikah's back, the young woman decided it was no use. With a quick apology to the screaming red head, Aniki jumped up, grabbing onto the edge of the roof. Her knee scraped painfully against the tiles as she pulled herself up completely, and with a worried look behind her, Sheikah turned and ran.

It was only later, leaning against a wall in a dark alleyway, out of the sight of people, that the Sheikah found rest. Her right knee bled from trying to climb onto the roof, and her short, pale hair clung to her face in sweaty tendrils.

Taking off her eyepatch, the young woman rubbed wearily at her right eye. Her throat tightened as she slid down into a sitting position. Sighing heavily, the girl lowered her hand and stared before her. "Am I to be hated wherever I go?" she wondered miserably aloud.

[curseoftheslighted]

Ragin, jumped back, as a giant crowd swept by him, their feets thundering across the streets, and their eyes filled with rage.

"Get her!!" Their voices echoed in his mind. Staring in confusion he stayed in the shadows and watched as the final one of them left. Curiosity getting the better of him, he started going in their direction...

Or would have.

A hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder, shocked Ragin went to draw his weapon, only to stop and frown, "Volien! What are you doing here?"
A young man, with dark blue eyes smiled at him, Volien, only three years his elder, was a muscular man, with a claim to a prosperous inheritance from his family. Only he forsaken that for the thrill of living on the streets, unlike Ragin, who lived in the back alleys of Hyrule because he had no where else to go, Volien lived because he loved his job.

His morals, if he had any, were lacking.

"Ragin, thats the thanks I get for the deal I gave ya?" Ragin growled, he remembered that deal he was broke for the next five weeks after, for he often worked with Volien, but it was a strained friendship. However his next words broke Ragin out of his thoughts.
"What's that, there on your hip? You got a sword, outside from me? I'm hurt." He smiled, in his oily way. It sent shivers down Ragin's spine. Yet he felt inclined to answer.
"I'm going to compete in the Spring Festival." He answered, however Volien, like Delcalio was unsure.
"Have you forgotten? Your a crook! You think the guards are going to just let you compete?"
"I haven't forgotten, I just have to cover my eyes, you know those veils a gypsy wears? I just got to snatch one of those."
"Well," the man smiled, "aren't you a lucky devil," out of his back pocket he pulled out a red veil, like the thick color of blood.
Ragin looked at it, and Volien already knew what he was going to ask, for they had worked together many times, "So, how much do you have on you?"


Ragin hated that cheating cheap sake.

Yet, the price was well worth it, for soon, after this tournament he would get one free trip to Termina there he would travel all the way to the Gerudo Pirate Fortress, there he would find the assassin and avenge his parents deaths.
The Spring Festival starts in three days, he would have to train until then. As he was walking the streets, he stopped at a small building. Where a woman sat on the steps, shivering in fear.
Something spurned him to go up and comfort her, so walking he reached out a comforting hand. However, she took it for a wrong meaning and fearfully stepped away from him. "Don't come any closer." the redheaded woman said, "Your like her aren't you? Those eyes, their so similar, even though their different colors..."
Ragin looked at her in confusion, what was she talking about? The woman's large ears twitched violently, as she looked back at him. "Stay away us, both of you, if I see you or that eye-patched girl I will call the guards." Ragin stepped back, eyes wide. He turned around and started back toward the back streets, however his mind started working, and he put two to two together.

That woman the crowd was chasing, had an eye patch, and their eyes looked similar...

No, it couldn't be...

His great grandfather, a wanderer, had found a small tribe of odd people outside the border of Hyrule, he had stayed there, and grown attached to them, and even had a child with one of the woman in the tribe. Those people, whoever they were, are his ancestors.

And this girl was one of them.

He had to find her

[MajikNiNE]

Aniki's back began to ache. She had torn off a peice of her cloak to dress her wound, which was really a minor one, but still risked infection. She smiled sardonically as she wrapped the filthy bit of cloth over her knee.

Alot of good it would do.

Her father had taught her how to treat wounds when she was younger, so that he wouldn't have to tend to her so much. She was clumsy then...and it appeared she still was.

Aniki had never felt like an outsider before. She had never known what it was like to be with people outside of her clan, nor did she know what it was like to be judged simply on appearances. There was a fruit, the Sheikah harvested, a precious fruit which they called 'mongolsa'. It was a hideous, black thing that grew from a thorny bush which would ooze poison when disturbed. The fruit itself had a tough, bumpy exterior and was striped green. But the inside...the inside was terribly sweet and nutritious. The Sheikah coveted these fruits, the 'mongolsa'. It was vital for life, despite its appearances.

But the people of Hyrule seemed to understand nothing of this concept. Their faces contorted at Aniki's scarred, blotchy complexion, rusted armor, and tattered clothing. They saw a savage among them, a weed among roses, and they immediately let the young woman know, she was not welcome.

"Barely four hours have gone by and already I feel out of place." Aniki mumbled.

Grimacing, she stood slowly to her feet...

And was surprised to have water cascade down onto her head. Letting out a shout, the woman jumped aside, tripping over her own feet and managing to crash into a pile of garbage. Bewildered, the Sheikah looked up.

An elderly woman with pale blue eyes and a large wart on her nose gazed down at Aniki from a high window. In her hands was a bucket, soap clinging to the lip as the woman stood frozen in surprise. Blinking down at Aniki, the woman frowned. "What're you doin' in mah alley, girly?" she barked with sudden vehemence.

Aniki blinked and stood uncertainly, the soapy water running down her pale arms and dripping from her fingertips. "What?" was the only reply she could muster.

She didn't understand this place. It seemed she couldn't go a moment without something strange or horrible happening to her.

The elderly woman leaned forward, her frown deepening. "I said, what're you doin' in mah alley!? You rummaging through my garbage?"

Aniki frowned and looked down at the pile of garbage she just stood from. Looking back up, she shook her head, a baffled look on her face.

Why would anyone want to rummage through garbage?

"What's that on your knee?" the woman then asked, her tone softening.

"A bandage." Aniki answered shortly.

The woman pursed her lips as she regarded the girl. "You speak funny...you from Termina?"

Aniki stared. "What?"

"Termina! For heaven's sake have you got deku nuts stuffed into your ears!?"

"...I...I've never heard of that place."

The woman gazed down at Aniki, baffled. Face turning skeptical, she wagged a finger. "You just wait there..." And with that the woman disappeared from view.

Aniki stood, confused. She wasn't sure if she should run or wait as the woman said. The woman didn't seem threatening...but then again, what if she called the guards? What if she told the angry crowd where she was?

Aniki's face paled and she turned to run, but then the door to the building she was leaning against opened and the woman emerged, a towel in hand as well as a steaming cup of tea.

Handing the towel to the girl, the woman said brusquely, "My name is Alfena."

Aniki took the towel, surprise etched into her features. Then she smiled. "My name is Aniki."

"Well go on, Aniki. Dry yourself off."

The girl did as she was told. When she was done, Alfena took the towel and handed Aniki the cup of tea. "I recognize you now. You're one of them, aren't ya? A Sheikah."

Aniki took a sip of her tea and nodded. "Yes. I am a Sheikah."

Alfena pursed her lips. "Yes. Well that's all well and good, girly, but you'd be wise to cover up that symbol," she pointed a gnarled finger at Aniki's breastplate, where her clan's symbol was painted. A crying eye. "Alot of folks nowadays don't recognize that...but some do. And they hate your kind. Call you savages. ...Me? I remember stories of good Sheikah, and I'd say to judge an entire race on the mistakes of a few would be stupid."

"That's very wise." Aniki said, simply because she didn't know what else to say.

Alfena gestured toward the young woman's right eye, "Blind?"

Aniki nodded, self-conciously replacing her eyepatch.

When the Sheikah finished her cup, Alfena took it, along with the towel. "Well, I've got work to do. It would behoove you, girly, to do as I've advised...and since you don't know what's happened...here I mean...in Hyrule..." the old woman faltered. Clearing her throat, she simply patted Aniki's arm, "Keep your head low. And be sure to stop at Lon Lon Ranch...they'll take care of you. Their pretty open minded, those people..."

And with that, the woman turned and shuffled quickly back into her home, leaving Aniki to stare after her.

Looking down at her breastplate, Alfena's words echoed in her head. "You'd be wise to cover up that symbol!" Quickly drawing her cloak tightly around her so that it covered her front, the young woman flipped her hood over her head and walked away.

[curseoftheslighted]

He couldn't find her.

Ragin slumped against a side wall, whipping the sweat off his brow. What was he doing? Why was he out, during the middle of the night, looking for one girl in Hyrule Castle Town. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, only more like looking for a needle in a barn full of hay. It was impossible.

And why did he want to find her anyway? But the moment he thought that he answered it too. Because he wanted to know why he was so different. Why all his childhood he had been feared for his eyes. He wanted to know where these people where, and what they were like...All in all, he hoped he could find those he was related to, someone he could call family...

A sudden sound broke him out of his thoughts, he looked up and saw, to his shock that it was that same young lord, who had pushed that old woman aside into the mud. The old woman who gave him that cryptic clue to a "Tournament", one at the time he had assumed was the Spring Festival, but now was not so sure.

The lord, stood tall, his back straight and rigid. He had long, splendid hair, in the latest fashion, weaved into separate braids. He wore a breastplate of silver, and soft pants of a rich blue color, that fell short to his ankles, his tough leather boots had golden buckles that shinned in the fading sunlight.

His handsome face was marred with hate, staring at Ragin's ragged appearance and more importantly his eyes, his hands grabbing at his elegant sword, embedded with jewels, he scowled at him, "Get away from me you savage!"

Ragin stared at him in confusion, why did everyone seem to hate him today? First that redheaded woman and now this lord, becoming indignant he wasn't just about to let them mock him like that, "Listen Sir, I am sorry if I..."

"Shut up, you Shiekah filth! My father has taught me all about your barbaric ways! And here you are trying to dare talk to me? Like were equals?" His voice was high and arrogant, and Ragin felt a fire burning in him.

He did not know who this man was, or why he called him a Shiekah, but he did know that he was making fun of him. And his father had taught him the values of honor, and he would not let this go. Grabbing the hilt of his sword, Ragin's eyes locked onto the lord.
"Oh? You wish to die? I will be glad to rid this town of your slime." Drawing his weapon, the slender sword stood out, a stark contrast to the plain weapon Ragin was holding, as if it too was mocking him.

Anger filling him, Ragin rushed at him, his sword brandished.

The sound eeire sound, like poes screeching into the night, of metal meeting metal could be heard throughout the entire town.

[MajikNiNE]

Aniki's stomach growled again. She still hadn't eaten anything. But she was accustomed to this sort of pain...it was something familiar to her. She knew it almost all her life.

Clawed boots scraping along the cobbled stones, Aniki wondered distantly where it was she could sleep. She decided the rooftops were out of the question, and she hadn't any rupees to afford an inn. Sighing, the young Sheikah stopped in the middle of the street, her eye growing misty.

It was at the sound of boots that her head jerked up, and dashing behind a set of barrels, the girl watched as two guards went by, their faces shadowed and their chainmail armor rattling with every step they took. Sitting rock still, the girl watched as the two rounded a corner, disappearing from sight.

After waiting a moment to see if they would come back, Aniki sprang out from her hiding place and ran on in full tilt. She was going to leave the town and find Lon Lon Ranch, as Alfena had told her to. But as she came to the drawbridge, she was dismayed to find it drawn up, the exit from the city closed off.

Chest heaving the girl fell back into the shadows of the buildings as the gate guards looked her way. Her heart hammered as she waited for their gazes to turn. When they did, she slinked into a narrow alley and crept along quickly, trying to not to make a sound as she stuck close to the wall.

And in the distance she heard it. The sharp cries of metal in combat.

At first, the girl was alarmed. Was it more guards? Just where was the sound coming from?

Even with these thoughts circulating through her head, the girl didn't stop moving forward. There was no use going back. She'd only find guards that way. The only way she could go was straight ahead, but with each step she took, the sound of metal against metal became clearer and louder, so that it resounded against the walls.

As the alley twisted into an awkward turn, the young Sheikah was introduced with a most pecuilar sight.

Warm light spilled out onto the filthy alleyway as citizens peeked curiously out their windows, their shutters thrown wide open as they watched the scene before them unfold. Aniki stood stiff for a moment, not understanding what was going on. Stepping forward nervously, the young woman was surprised to find that the people took no interest in her slinking form.

They were too interested in the fight.

A battle of classes.

"Some homeless waif fighting a great lord!" they exclaimed in hushed voices, eyes wide with wonder as they took in the spark of swords clashing against one another.

Aniki came closer as well, curiousity getting the better of her as she saw the two men fighting, one a well groomed man with braided hair...the other--

Aniki's body froze, a jolt going up her spine, like electricity. Her eye widened slightly as she saw the other man's eyes, familiar in intensity and shade.

This man, though it was clear he was not a pure-blood, it was still obvious...

This man had Sheikah blood in him.

But that wasn't the only thing that went through Aniki's head as she watched the fight grow in intensity and desperation. Rising from her subconscious like a grinning ghost, her dream from the previous night shined in her mind.

"Another...another...I've found another..." the girl breathed, dazed with incredulity.

And like that she knew.

She had found another fighter of the 'Battle Arena'.

[curseoftheslighted]

Ragin dodged yet another blow. His feet danced against the cobblestone. His feet were light, but his heart heavy, and his mind a blur. He didn't care that he was making a mockery of a man with more connections then he could count, and cared less that there where people watching from their windows. Let them watch, let them see, he was tired of hiding.

As he continued to avoid the lord's swings, a part of him, perhaps his forsaken common sense, asked what he was doing, being so reckless. He was out here, in the open, where everyone and anyone could see him. Yet he cared not, for some reason he felt himself invincible as if he could not die, though he knew it utter foolishness.

He wondered how he got himself into this mess. He did not come out tonight looking for a fight, and was still surprised at how easily he found himself in one. But it didn't matter, he was in a fight. And the odds were against him. In all his life, Ragin barely ever fought, preferring to simply steal then run. But now as he was faced against his opponent, he wished he hadn't. The lord had spent all of his childhood, like most lords of the day, practicing and training. For the moment his sword met the lord's, he learned two things.

The lord was much stronger and skilled in fighting.

But Ragin was still swift and clever. He circled around the lord, dodging his attacks, and counterattacking with precision. Yet it did not do much, for the lord knew many forms of sword fighting, and blocked his attacks. And the few that managed to brake through only reflected off the lord's breastplate.

Yet Ragin was determined to not leave today being the only one with bruises. He fought furiously, bending the armor, sure that it would not be used again. But for every hit he made, the lord made three. There were many times that Ragin was thrown to the ground, staring up at the dark night sky; it was only because of his speed that he managed to survive during those times. And get up to attack once again. But as he fought, the more he began to realize that it was too much, that he was tiring out quickly.

That's when he began to get desperate.

With his options limiting, Ragin was forced to use deceit. When ducking out of the way, instead of using his sword, he would drop down, steadying himself with one hand, and kick upward at the lord's chin, shocking him enough to let him pause for a few precious moments for Ragin to attack.

But it was not enough, again and again the lord blocked Ragin's attacks, until his arms were so sore that the literally felt that they were ready to fall off. Deciding that this was enough, Ragin back flipped out of the way until he was nearly pushed against a far wall. The lord saw this and smirked, "Coward." he taunted unaware of the knife in Ragin's hands.

Faster than anyone watching the spectacle could see, Ragin threw the knife and watched as it hit its mark, slicing the lord's hand and forcing him to drop his weapon. Falling to his knees, the lord clutched his hand, cursing his opponent with vicious words. But Ragin ignored him, knowing that he posed no threat, since he could no longer pick up his sword. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, having not seriously hurt anyone before, but he pushed it aside knowing that it was the lord's own fault for bringing this on himself, and also because he knew that the wound would be healed in a few weeks.

Walking up he picked up his bloodied knife and slid it into its sheath. Letting out a final sigh, he finally took in his surroundings, to know how much damage he had caused. His eyes widened, he had not expected this...

A large crowd, of thirty, forty or more, gathered around them. Looking out from the windows above, peeking from behind a dark corner, and a few brave ones out in the open standing in front of the exit. But out of all of these, one face his eyes caught sight of, one face he remembered and remained.

There was the woman, wearing worn clothing, and an eye patch.

Her single amethyst eye glowed in the fading moonlight, and her slender, pale hair rest uneven on both sides. She wore tattered clothing, much like his, but more of from days of wandering than from years of trudging in the streets. On her chest, though she tried to conceal it with her cloak, lay a symbol that seemed to call out to him, even from where he stood. But something stronger called out to him as he looked at her face, a feeling stirred within him, like a forgotten memory, or a lost fact, he remembered that night, when he watched the old lady transform before his very eyes. He heard her voice once more, ringing in his ears.


"Others have been chosen to compete, some that will help you on your quest and others that will bring you harm."

He knew that she was a contestant in the Tournament, in the "Battle Arena".

A noise broke him out of his thoughts, and he watched as the crowd parted as two guards came running out, swords drawn. Ragin turned back, prepared to run, but before he did, he took one last glance at the girl.

She was gone.

Not wasting any time to ponder over the matter, Ragin dashed past the fallen lord and up a stairwell that led to the back alleys. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a rope that extended up to a pulley that was holding up a net full of crates. In a single swing he cut the rope and watched as the crates tumbled down, colliding against the ground and forming a solid barrier so the guards could not pass. Ragin paused only a moment to enjoy the look of frustration on the guard’s faces, before turning around and disappearing from sight.

He wandered down the twisting streets, and back alleyways, his tired and weary mind not taking in any of the sights before him, just continuing along taking the most indirect path home. That way he was sure that no one could follow him. Yet at the same time he felt himself lost. Somehow, by the miracle of the goddesses, he found his way home.

He lived in farthest section of the back alleys, the place where no one goes. There in a far corner, boxed in by other buildings was a worn, old abandoned factory. As Ragin walked in he noted with tired interested that there was a new cobweb in the corner, and another crack in the side wall, not that it made any difference, there was far too many as it was. He walked past the rotting furniture, and the furnaces that where no longer in use. He walked up a flight of stairs, leaving the first floor and going up to the very top of the building.

He entered into the largest room in the building, where an old couch, with stuffing sticking out, laid on one side and a few chairs, all missing one or two legs, scattered about. It was in this room he stored his loot, so littering the floor there was many jewels, lamps, and rupees. But he ignored all of it, and walked to the back wall, where there was a door.

Inside, was what was once the office of the manager of the factory, for it was in the best condition, even the curtains on the window by the side wall still hung, though a bit worn from time. Taking up the middle of the room was a medium sized mattress, which if one looked hard enough could see a spring or two sticking out. Though tired he was, he walked past it, and sat down by a desk in the far corner. There he opened a drawer, and took out a small item.

It was a pictograph of his family.

Pictographs were rare and hard to come by, mostly because of the scarcity of anyone finding a Picto Box. But it was not that which made this picture precious to him. What made it precious is that it showed the faces of the ones he was slowly beginning to forget.

So sitting there, with the picture clutched to his heart, he drifted off to sleep.

[MajikNiNE]

The fight had ended in a way that Aniki deemed somewhat underhanded...but nevertheless, the Sheikah could sympathize with the man's plight. Faced against a stronger, more skillful opponent, the man was forced to resort to less than honorable means of fighting. It was either that, or his death.

Aniki understood that sacrifice. When her and her people came across animals dying of thirst and fatigue, they would mournfully slay them, ashamed of having to take advantage of an animal in such a helpless state. On those nights, the clan ate silently.

On those nights, Aniki cried the most.

She had run, as all the others had, when the guards came. Their focus was mainly on the man in the tattered clothing, who took off toward the alleys as quickly as a rabbit at full speed. She had slipped quietly into the dark, calming her racing heart with the knowledge that this time, the guards were not after her.

Now Aniki was huddled next to a pile of empty crates behind a bar on the west end of town, her knees huddled close to her chest as she wrapped her cloak tightly around her, trying to stay warm. There, she realized, with a heavy heart, that perhaps her elders had been right all along...

...Perhaps there truly was no place for the Sheikah in the kingdom of Hyrule.

[curseoftheslighted]

Ragin woke up feeling highly uncomfortable. Which wasn't too surprising counting he slept in a chair. Stretching he let out a loud yawn. That was when he noticed that he was still holding the picture. Silently putting it back into the drawer. He turned around to the window, and pulled down the blinds.

What he saw made a chill crawl up his spine.

Marching in the wide roads in single file, long and narrow ranks. Where guards, twenty, thirty of them in a street at a time. They were all armed with swords, bows, and spears. Something told him that they were searching for him, most likely on the lord's orders, for now after that scene last night he was no longer a meager thief, the lord must have twisted the events with his oily tongue, and made Ragin sound like a killer. A savage killer.

Frustrated and angered beyond belief he kicked wall with all his might. And regretted it when pain shot up his toes, cursing under his breath he sat down on his bed and thought of what to do.

One things for sure, he wasn't going to let this get in his way, he will still fight in the Spring Festival, and will still win. Then he could leave this stupid town and all the misery it gave him far behind him, and go out to avenge his parents. That was the only thing that mattered.

But still it would be unbearably hard to accomplish this, for he could not even go into the streets without being spotted. And he pitied the fool who tried to go in or out of Hyrule City without being spotted by the guards. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. Why did bad things always seem to happen to him?


When Ragin stepped out of his home, he walked down the alleyways wearily, he decided to stay in the back alleys, and never go out into the streets willingly. Curving around a corner he abruptly stopped. Pressing his back against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest.

"So where do you think he went?" A voice called out, Ragin felt a chill go up his spine, there standing in the midst of the alley was a small group of people, two men and two maidens. He dared not go closer

"Who knows," the other man said, "did you see the way he moved? Or the way he ran? The guards will have a hard time chasing that one down, especially if Lord Carthage couldn't do anything to stop him."

"Lord Carthage!" One of the women swooned, her voice light, as if she were about to faint, "Did you see how he swung that sword? He is so strong!" The other woman giggled with her.

"Aye" the first man said, "he's talented with the sword alright, but that boy was as sly as a fox, and did you see his eyes?" Ragin growled at that, must everyone take notice of his eyes? Couldn't they just leave him alone?

"I don't care what creature that boy is, Lord Carthage is a man among men, I hear he's going to be competing in the Spring Festival, will win hands down for sure." Ragin couldn't believe that, he had hit the man squarely in the hand, how could he have recovered so quickly? But that was answered in the man's next words, "That bugger couldn't keep Carthage down, the moment he walked into his palace, hundreds of his servants came rushing up, I hear one of them got him a Red Potion to clear up the wound easy."
Ragin muttered under his breath, he should of know. This lord was rich, he probably had many potions lined up in his shelfs. So the lord was fighting, he remembered last night, so fresh in his mind, and how he struggled, so hard against that foe, and the idea that he would have to do it again did not appeal to him. So even after the group left, he stayed there, pondering on what to do.

He would not back down, that's for sure, but as he was now he was in no condition to fight the lord again. This, Carthage, was way to strong, he would have to train much in order to fight him and defeat him. But he would. He had two days, two days before the competition, he would have to train every moment of every day until then. It would not be easy, and he knew that he needed a trainer, someone to teach him how to fight. Also he knew just where to go, and he was already regretting thinking of it.

Ragin traveled down many alleys, corners, and passage ways, until he reached his destination. He was now standing underneath a large arched bridge, leading to Hyrule Castle, where Princess Zelda herself sat on her throne. Walking through the murky sewage water he stood underneath the shade provided by the bridge, where from this distance could see a shadowy figure standing not to far. Though he could not see his features, Ragin knew who it was.

"Volien, I need your help."

[MajikNiNE]

Aniki jerked upright, sleep leaving her abruptly as someone dumped an empty crate out into the alley. Rubbing at her eye, the girl sat up stiffly, her back aching. Standing up slowly, the young Sheikah pulled her robe around her, walking past the backdoor of the bar she slept behind. The clinking of glasses could be heard from the establishment, the sound chasing her back as she wearily made her way back toward the main gates of the town.

Now that it was morning, the drawbridge should have been lowered. Aniki fully intended to take Alfena's advice and seek shelter and nourishment back at the place she had mentioned...Lon Lon Ranch. In all honesty, she didn't know where the ranch was, but the girl was too afraid to stop and ask someone, for fear of recieving a negative reaction.

Aniki somberly lifted her head as she saw the gate up ahead, the lush green fields of Hyrule rolling before her. Amethyst eye lighting beneath the dark of her hood, the woman felt a sense of relief as she crossed the wooden drawbridge. Behind her was the cruel civilization that had rejected her. Ahead of her was the wild that accepted her.

Wading through the grass, the woman felt a sense of peace rush through her...

[curseoftheslighted]

The two days pasted remarkably fast, everyday, by every hour, he trained with Volien in a back alley. It was the perfect spot, for there was only one entrance in and out, and there was no windows for anyone to see them. Volien even put one of his henchmen out to make sure no one came in or out. Though Ragin doubted the reliability of this thug, for he had spotted him knocked out cold from rum many times.

Still, it was nice training during those times, though Ragin learned a long time ago not to trust Volien, but in these times he got to know him as a friend. And a skilled teacher. For Volien use to be a noble, before he ran away from it all to live on the streets, and had the training in fighting that Ragin lacked.

And it showed.

Ragin winced as Volien let out a long stream of curses, obviously annoyed, he yelled out, "How can I teach you thirteen years of practice in two days?!!!!!"

"I don't need to know everything you do," Ragin said as he wiped the sweat off his brow, still clutching the blunted weapon, "Just the basics, just enough to beat Carthage."

Volien looked thoughtful at that, and far more optimistic, and then said, "We better hope your a quick learner." Apparently he was, for in two days time, Volien was patting him on the back, and shouted enthusiastically, "If you do that, you'll win for sure."

As Ragin wandered through the streets, he thought back on those training lessons with happiness, glad for the companionship and for the valuable fighting lessons. In a few hours, he would be competing that then leave this rotten Town for good.

But preparations must be made. For even if he did have a veil to cover his eyes, a good load of help it would do if he still went out there in his tattered clothing. Volien had suggested he go into the richer, more prosperous section of Hyrule City, so that he could steal a good pair of clothes and some light armor.

He had picked a light blue tunic, with yellow stripes on the sleeves, and some long smooth brown pants, much better then the ones he use to wear. Underneath the tunic he wore some very light padding, that guarded his torso and lower legs. Quickly combing out his hair, and taking out the red veil to tie it across his eyes. He finally stepped into the open, and headed toward the town square where the festivities was taking place.

It took Ragin a while to get use to the extra weight added to his clothes, and even longer to be able to use the veil properly to see through. But when he did, he was amazed at the festival before him.

The Spring Festival always took place at the same time each year, but before now he never had the chance to participate for the guards chased him out on sight. So each thing he saw was a brand new experience.

He saw a lot.

Sword eaters, fire dancers, jugglers, and storytellers. Merchants and craftsmen showing off their wares, stalls selling food and refreshments, as men gambled on the tables. But overall laughter, exclamations of pleasure, and merrymaking filled all his senses. As Ragin walked through the busy streets. Children running by his legs. A heartwarming sensation filled him. So this was what the Festival is like? He wished he could have came many years before!

Finally he reached the destination, there rising out from the ground was a small square platform. On every side of it where large wooden stands, far above him. Two smaller benches closer to the arena sat all the contestants, sharpening there weapons, sizing each other up, among them was the lord. And the anger within Ragin grew.

On top the stage stood a fat man, with many chins, he looked about and bellowed in a loud voice, "Any more contestants? Who is willing to fight in this year's festivities? No one? Then we shall..."

"Wait!" Ragin shouted as he walked onto the platform, the man looked at him, and smiled.

"Look whose late. You want to compete?" Ragin nodded, and he pointed over to one of the benches, which, luckily, was the one that Carthage was not sitting at. Ragin muttered a thank you as he walked down and sat on the bench. Excitement already beginning to fill him.

"Alright!" the man shouted, "That was the final competitor, people of Hyrule welcome, one and all to this year's bout!" Everyone in the stands let out a wild cheer, which quite shocked Ragin, "Here we have the best fighters known in all of Hyrule, ready to compete in a bloody fight for your entertainment! But before we begin, let me introduce, our fair lady, grace, and highness, the Queen Zelda!"

Suddenly a cheer, larger and greater then any of the others combined came forth. As the Queen of Hyrule walked up onto the stage. However Ragin noticed that not everyone cheered, in fact, some where even staring at the Queen with looks of beast like hatred. He remembered the animosity between the Twin Worlds and the Queen's attempts to stop it. Her actions have made enemies out of many, though Ragin has never spoken to the Queen before in his life, he wished for her safety.

They all watched as she spoke, her voice clear and mystical, "Dear people of Hyrule, I come today to bless this proceeding, as I do every year, yet this year is different, for the winner of this contest shall receive a map, one that shows the portal to the Twin World Termina, there the champion will receive a tour through Clock Town, guided by a one I chose beforehand, and shall have an experience of a lifetime. My only wish is that when you are there, you will show the Terminians the respect that is their due, and remember that you are a representative of all of Hyrule...of me." There was a sudden quite among those sitting on the benches. Apparently quite a few of them weren't planning on giving the people of Termina the "Respect that is their due".

If the Queen noticed this she did not mention it, "So with that being said, let the festivities continue." The audience cheered, loud and excited, as the Queen went through the rules.

It was simpler then Ragin originally thought, the rules were simple. The first one to draw blood, step outside the ring, fall unconscious or surrender, looses. With that said, the Queen stepped out of the stage and left. A final cheer was exclaimed as she walked. A band of knights around her.

Faster then Ragin could anticipate, it started.

One by one the contestants walked up, and each got eliminated just as quickly. It was a bloody sport, Ragin realized. Many of the times the opponent was knocked unconscious or had seriously deep wounds. One time the guards even had to stop a fighter once, who looked like he was about to kill his foe.

Yet even against these impossible odds, Ragin continued to fight. And to his surprise managed to win. He fought swiftly, circling his foe and forcing him backward. Many times the enemy never had any chance to even attack him before he was pushed out of the ring. His training improved his sword fighting tremendously. And he made quick work of his enemies.

Unfortunately so did Lord Carthage.

Ragin sat there on the bench, waiting for his next fight, and watched as the lord demolished his opponent tearing off his meager armor, and landing multiple bruises and the finishing cut across the man's chest. Ragin looked at his fellow competitors, if he was worried that one would think his veil was outlandish, he needn't not worry. Many men wore fancy and flashy clothing. As if to look impressive, ironic enough, those who wore the fanciest were the first ones out.

Ragin was not among them, he fought and fought until his arms got tired and his legs weary. But he refused to give up, because if he did, then he would never avenge his parents. He fought each enemy with a fire none of them could stop.

Finally, he was in the last fight, him against Lord Carthage. The audience was standing in their seats, for both fighters had became their favorites. Simultaneously they both drew their weapons.

Ragin jumped into attack, circling the lord, as he did in the back alley. But this time was different, he could not rely on his dagger like last time, for such underhanded tactics he will surely be disqualified. Instead he eyed the lord, watching every attack, and with each one he countered it and parried.

In Carthage's eyes rage was brewing, he recognized the movements and the way his opponent moved. It was irritatingly similar to the Shiekah lout in the back alleys. His voice even sounded like his, in the few times he spoke taunting the lord to attack. He began to hate his opponent as much as he hated the one who gave him the scar on his hand.

Ragin saw the anger brewing in the lord's eyes, and he knew he had to use it to his advantage. He did not strike, but instead used his speed to dodge each of lord's swings. He watched as the fury in the man's eyes became hotter. Finally the lord snapped and let his anger get the best of him as he did a sloppy slice.

Seeing this, Ragin quickly blocked it and watched as Carthage's blade went soaring and clattering on the ground. Unarmed the lord could do nothing as Ragin lightly scratched his arm with the point of his blade.

The audience applauded, and Ragin's spirits soared, he had done it. He had actually done it! When the overweight man came, holding the map in his hand, he firmly slapped Ragin on the back, exclaiming, "Well done lad! Well done! You've deserved it." He handed the map to Ragin who smiled widely as he put it in his back pocket. He was about to turn around and leave when he heard the man's voice cry out, "Wait, can't our champion gives us one last favor, and take off that veil? I'm sure you would all want that!"

Ragin's heart plummeted as the crowd hooted in response. He had to quickly think of something..."I can't! It is...my family!...they have odd traditions, they wanted me to wear this all day...it would dishonor them if I did not." It was a poor excuse, he hoped it worked.

Apparently it worked, for the man did not ask again, and the crowd silenced their pleadings, a bit begrudgingly though, however Carthage, hearing this formed a plan in his mind. If he couldn't win he then would shame his opponent. Sneaking behind him, he roughly pulled down the veil.

Everyone, the audience, the guards, the fat man, and Carthage himself stared at the red eyes that looked out at them.

Panicked, Ragin dashed. Moving faster then they could match, he rushed out the stadium and into the streets. As he ran he heard the thundering footsteps of the guards as they chased him. And before he could stop it, he was trapped. Surrounded in a tight circle. With nowhere to go.

He couldn't fight them, there were too many, and they were to well trained. Besides, he was tired after such as fight. There was nothing he could do as they closed around him. As he stood there, he wished, more than anything, that he could grow wings and fly, get away from this miserable place and go high into the air. He imagined wings sprouting from where his arms were, and then bones in his body contorting into that of a birds.

For some odd reason the guards were staring at him in horror and awe. He didn't think over it, and reached back to grasp his weapons. When he moved is arms a giant gust of wind formed and pushed them back. Confused Ragin stopped. What was going on. But just then out of the corner of his eye he saw his reflection.

On the ground nearby was a large man made lake, almost like a huge basin of water, here all the poor and those unable to provide for themselves came to draw water. And it was in this water that he caught sight of his reflection.

He was a giant bird.

With purple and gold feathers, large claws, and a beak. Wings were where his arms use to be, claws where his legs once where. A bird stood in his place. A stone mask guarding its head as it glared at the frightened guard, but Ragin wanted no fight. Though he had no idea how this transformation took place. He didn't care. He just wanted to leave.

Jumping into the air, he flapped his arms about, feeling like a fool, but to his surprise he rose to the air. Looking back he saw that the guards sheathed their weapons and instead took out their bows. Turning sideways all the arrows missed him as Ragin flew higher. Gliding over the buildings, people below pointed at him as the guards chased after him once more. He didn't care, swooping down his wings did one might swish as he left the walls behind.

Unbeknown to him, Carthage climbed up on the wall with a bow in hand, pulling back the string he eyed the bird that was slowly fading from sight and shot.

Pain filled his arm...wing, as an arrow sliced through it, stumbling he stopped waving and slowly descended, crashing roughly against the ground. Tumbling for many miles, until he laid down still.

When Ragin woke up, he was in the middle of a vast field, human once more. He looked around and saw no one in sight. He tried to get up but yelled in pain. Looking down he saw, cut into his arm was an arrow, he heard hoof beats sound, as someone riding a horse drew near, yet he didn't even get to see their face before he collapsed to the ground.

[curseoftheslighted]

Dang...that was alot, my fingers hurt

[fiercedeity]

Meanwhile, Hardan was in the field. He saw Ragin beeing taken by a guy with a green skin and orange hair. Ganondorf... He tought. He rushed to Ganondorf, and yelled

-What are you doing here?

Ganondorf : You little pest again? I tought I got rid of you 3 years ago!

-Think again

-Well it doesn't matter, I am more powerful than you anyway.

- let's see that! (rushes toward him)

After, all Hardan felt was a quick flash, and a immense pain, proving he was not dead. When he woke up, the only thing he could remember clearly was that bird with purple and gold feathers. He knew something was wrong, that he could'nt just ignore this. He tried to run and search for that bird.

But he was retained with chains