It took every fiber of self-control in Cain's body not to erupt into laughter when Lethe literally attacked Veitaru, flying into her face and scaring the wits out of her. The Gerudo's wound against the tombstone behind her was more dire, however, and the Twili pulled no humor from that. This is, he mused, what happens when two excessive egos collide. He took a few more moments to think as Veitaru writhed on the dusty ground. It had probably been a mistake to shift gears with her so suddenly and abrasively. After all, he had only just finished insulting and ignoring the girl before he theatrically introduced himself and Frore. Such a mistake might take some time to resolve--and Cain wasn't exactly an expert when it came to long-term social interaction. In terms of reading others like books and pulling at their strings, there was no-one more suited, but a lifetime in the shadows meant that his commitments were seldom more than a few days. If the world was truly at stake, and he intended to keep up his facade about caring, he'd likely be with Vei for some time.

He was distracted from his pondering when Veitaru abruptly caved, consenting to get Frore clothes. Cain watched, both amused and somewhat disturbed, as the girl effectively drank her own blood. He was so absorbed in his observation that the approach of a certain dark figure went totally unnoticed by him.

Instead, the Chilfos, who hadn't the societal understanding of propriety and disgust to register any emotion at Veitaru's actions -or even any emotion to do so- heard the dust shifting en masse as the cloak of Magus swept over it. Frore pivoted about, more quickly than it seemed possible, and leveled his spear at the newcomer's chest. Attuned to his partner's actions, Cain glanced out of the corner of his eye to see what the problem was. As Magus entered his field of vision, he went rigid. He remained quiet as death while Magus made his remark, swiftly ticking off a mental list of criteria. This being was almost certainly a fellow Twili, but somehow he remained full-bodied in the World of Light while suffering no harm.

Cain's initial impulse was to take full form, execute a diving tackle, pin the other Twili to the ground, and squeeze any and all information out of him. Luckily, just as he was tensing himself up to spring, his rationality kicked in and stalled his movement. To do so would be to both openly advertise his desperation and already confirm him as a liar. With agonizing restraint, he hovered closer, until only a few feet separated him and the figure in the pitch-black robe. "You are a denizen of the Twilight Realm, are you not?" He listened while Magus made his brief reply. As he did so, he made a gestured for Lethe and Veitaru, who were now behind him, to stay away. "I am Cain, an attendant of the Shadow Court," he declared for the second time in as many minutes, before his voice lowered to an urgent whisper. "Who are you, how did you get here, and how do you sustain your full-bodied form in the World of Light?"

Jiras eye twinkled when he looked at the little girl when she made her request, then back up to Matt. He was quiet; mulling things over clearly when he knelt down to Romanis level. He took his pack out and rifled through it until he found what he was looking for. Setting up beside their stand on a little mat, Jira held his lute in his lap. He wave Romani and Matt over, unable to just give them a brief description of what he was doing.

Now, he wasn't the best at playing the lute, but hey, that little girl was the cutest. He did like kids; they gave him the most profit and if they weren't total brats they were very sweet. He began to play, careful to draw out his words to try to make it sound like less of a rap and more of a genuine song. Granted, his words still had the 'fresh' sound to them as if they were meant to be a rap, but with enough effort he kept his words long and melodic. This always proved difficult for him. But hey, for a young girl holding one of the cutest animals ever? Why not.

"O yonder the fields,
Of trial and error,
You will but find what treasure yields
Should you follow
The path of the green one
Your life shall nary be hollow."

He began to pick up the pace of his lutes melody, strumming it faster to pic up the tempo as he became lost in his song.

"A classic tale
of
Saving the Princess,
Journeying
Through
Hyrule....
Searching
All around the world for
Yet another tool to
Aid your Quest....

A Hero of Time never rests.

Conquer
Fire, Forest, Water,
Shadow and even
Spirit...
Nomad,
Simply because no man,
Holds the final piece of
The Triforce.

Take our,
Take our praise,
Hear our song to aid your way,
Aid your quest...

For a Hero of Time who never rests."

Jira finished playing his lute, ending with a sole lute strum. He looked up, feeling a sense of calm in him. He had done well. For a moment he had slipped into rap but he had done well to keep his voice from slipping into its rap-like beat. The effort however, had exhausted him and his eyes threatened to close on him.

There were a couple of reactions from the gathering to his presence. The one that drew Magus's personal attention was the fact that he appeared to have a sharp spear made of ice pointing direactly at his chest... or at least what counted for his chest these days. Truthfully, while he wasn't really sure if physical attacks could harm him due to his current status, repairing his cloak and the frame would be a pain under the best of conditions; there was also the added risk of being exposed to sunlight...

Remaining very still, Magus turned his head to meet the gaze of the one being there that had bothered to respond to him with words rather then a spear of ice or simple noises. Before he answered Cain's questions, the hooded man turned his head to gaze at those who were gathered here, clearly thinking about what he could and couldn't say in front of them. His gaze seemed to linger on the fairy herself for a brief time... then, as if coming to a conclusion, his head bowed forwards a little as if nodding to himself as he returned to staring at Cain once again.

"To answer your questions in order... Yes. My name is Magus, I am a historian and researcher of Twili history, historical artifacts and magics. I am here due to research into allowing our people to physically exist outside of our domain having an unexpected result. No, I will not share what I have learned with you; there are..." Magus took a moment to lift his gloved hand and wave his fingers a little. Every movement resulted in the creaking and rubbing of wood or bone rubbing against itself rather clearly "side effects to the process that need to be addressed."

Stepping to the side of Cain so that he could clearly see the fairy and the human girl, Magus's attention once again landed on the fairy woman. After a moment of silent thought, the hooded figure offered the fairy a polite and respectful bow. "Greetings. I have a suspicion that you are the one that I was requested to meet at this festival. If you don't mind me asking, what is your name?"

"Oh!" Mila's eyes came alight when Elder Lyontus spoke up. She did have that nasty habit of letting her mouth run, or so Shila tells her.
"Uuuh..." the little girl blanked, "...Well, Kakariko Village is a mining town, right? And the Goron Brothers are selling bombs and things for them to help, so I thought I would too!" she beamed.
"Mila..." her fairy warned accusingly. The Kokiri's smile faded and her eyebrows furrowed as she peered up to the glowing orb. Shila had known better. Not only did she have all the facts, Mila rarely took that long of pauses in her speech nor did she speak so succinctly. It was a little tell when she was fibbing. Although the Kokiri child would argue that she was technically telling the truth because that's what she planned to do once it became popular enough to market across the fair, she was aware that her fairy would have none of it.
"I... uuh... a customer asked for it!" she smiled once more.
"Mila... Which customer?" Shila threatened once more. The rusty-haired girl looked nervously to her fairy again before boring her eyes into the countertop.
"...It was skinny man in the cloak..." she muttered, defeated. Shila flitted over to Elder Lyontus, encircling his head slowly.
"He swindled Mila into stealing her goggles," she explained in her haughty, condescending tone. Mila's face rose from the wood paneling with an angry frown.
"Did not! I'm trading Kaboom Potion for Goggles of Darkvision and he will come back and that'll show you!" Mila pulled her lower eyelid down and stuck her tongue out at the golden orb of light. If one could see pass the luminescent glow, they would similarly see Shila sticking her tongue out as well. And then Mila became increasingly aware that Naki was there and the color drained from her face.
"Oh! B-but don't worry about me! Eee hee!" she giggled anxiously, waving her hands up defensively, "That's what the waivers are for! If the Gorons can sell explosives, then why can't I? That's not fair! And I'm not selling weapons, I'm selling medicine that just blows up sometimes if you drop it! Alchemy is ill-understood anyway, you know that! It would be impossible for anyone to tell what it is unless they were an Alchemist, and I won't have any accidents because I'm being super careful! I've got my Alchemist's license an-"

"Mila!" Shila barked at her, demanding the Kokiri's silence. A promise that was delivered as her lips pursed tightly.
"After you get your goggles back, if you get your goggles back, no more potions that can harm anyone."
"Yes Shila..." Mila said emptily, gazing at the wood grain of the stall's counter guiltily.
"I want to her you say it," the fairy chided. Mila took a sighing breath.
"I won't make anymore potions that can hurt somebody..."
"And you won't sell potions to shady characters."
"And I won't sell potions to people of questionable morals..."
"And why did you do it?" The Kokiri girl thought for a moment before carefully selecting her answer.
"I did it because I got excited and wanted to make something challenging instead of boring old healing potions..."
"And I want you to apologize to Elder Lyontus for lying to him," the glowing ball of light demanded. The little girl looked up incredulously at her sprite.
"But I didn't lie! I was-" Mila was interrupted by the sound of several sharp, high pitched rings of a bell, and the threatening bounce of her fey companion.
"Sorry Naki," she responded immediately. Dejected, the little potion girl, leaned an elbow on her booth, boring her gaze downward. Her empty emerald eyes flitted over to the stale bread that the beggar twig man never took, and she broke off a piece and began to crunch on it to ease the lump in her stomach.
"I'm terribly sorry about this," Shila apologized to the elder alchemist, "You know her, she's usually much better behaved than this. I think it's the strange dreams she's been having."

"How am I supposed to know who some Goddess is! I'm not called Sly one or whatever for going to church."

“Good grief,” Lethe frowned, looking once again to the heavens above, “The Hylian children of this generation… if I didn’t already know, I’d say they were the impending doom that’s threatening Hyrule.”

Lethe sighed sharply at Vei, extinguishing the last of the lingering blue flames. Deep down she felt a slight sense of pride in herself—it wasn’t often she managed to scare young children senseless. An inkling of guilt squirmed beneath the weight of her self-satisfaction, but she’d worry about it later. That being said, her little fire-tantrum had taken a hefty toll. She landed lightly on a tombstone, feeling exhausted but, much like Veitaru, doing her best not to let the truth show through. Considering the majority of her body language and facial expressions were blotted out by her fairy light, it wasn’t all that difficult.

She might’ve offered to heal the young girl’s injury, but, as it were, she was temporarily out of juice… and still in a somewhat sour mood. The interruption of yet another stranger did not please her a bit either. Now this is just getting silly, she mentally grumped, Is he going to end up being one of the chosen as well? Should I just wait here for them all to come to me?

She watched in bemusement whilst Cain addressed the stranger as yet another Shadow being…. How interesting. The two were so similar… yet entirely different. They certainly didn’t look the same. She glanced the creepy stranger over and, after a moment's pause, smirked to herself as he politely addressed her. A single chiming bell sounded as she smiled even wider, her eyes lighting up with recognition.

The Broken One.

“You may call me Lethe,” she said, her indigo essence drifting towards him. She circled around him-- much like she'd done to Cain and Vei-- taking note of what appeared to be his strengths and weaknesses... as well as choice in clothing. He didn't look like much, but at least he seemed to have manners, which was more than she could say for the three over there... save Frore, perhaps. Considering she doubted he even knew what the word manners meant.

---

Romani smiled a big toothy grin, hugging her pet Cucco so tightly it let out a small, choked squawk and ruffled it’s neck feathers. The small creature leapt from her grasp and sat rather comfortably atop her red tresses. Matt smiled as she giggled and clapped her hands, positively delighted by Jira's performance.

“Yeah, you’re great!” Matt chortled, “Hey, y’know… maybe I can help you out with your wares.”

He motioned over to his booth, “I’ve got some extra space here an' our booth is always gettin' a lot of attention. I... I mean-- my boss-- probably wouldn’t mind if I agreed to sell it for you either. Then you can lessen your load and enjoy the festival a bit. It’s up to you though….”

“I wanna sell the wobble heads! I wanna sell the wobble heads!” Romani chirped, tugging Matt’s pant leg.

“…I mean, most folk would rather just sell it themselves. So I get it if you don’t trust us,” he scratched the back of his neck and smiled nervously, realized the ere in his offer, "But, y'know... the offer's there if you want it."

"Nah nah nah man
I'm glad you offer
Because I do what I can

It's hard to make a living
In a world
So unforgiving

'Sides there's a voice in my head
Sayin' yo
Get going else you want the world dead."

Jira returned to his rap format, some of his energy returning as he once more complied with the rules of his curse. After carefully putting away his lute, he headed to where the rancher had pointed and set up his wares as attractively as possible. Then, once he was finished, he turned to Matt once more.

'Listen listen
'Cause this new addition
Got its prices set
An' I know we just met
But I gotta walk off

So you ready to know?
Okay, here we go

You see you got the
Bomb and the Mug
Twenty rupee flat
Then the B.H. is Fifteen
But the food is 3x less 'n that

Then ya got a pretty Ocarina
Handcarved by fae
Which is on sale for 70 rupee today.
And last but not least
Dare I say
This Sword of Eons ends at 1k.

Word."

And with that, Jira left his wares but not his personal inventory with Matt. He'd be back at the end of the day to collect his things and rupees, but there was this nagging feeling in the back of his head that he needed to be somewhere... the question is, where?

While Magus answered Cain, the latter met his eyes steadily. Inferences, observations, and conclusions flashed through his mind like tiny silver fish shooting through a stream. Clerk useless proper know-it-all unhelpful furtive weak broken. When the other Twili lifted his gloves, Cain took in the sight of wood, bone, and trace of shadow in silence. If the side-effects of existing in full form in the World of Light included having to take on a false body, then Cain could see why this one was reluctant to share his methods. He briefly wondered if it was permanent. As Magus stepped around him to chatter to Lethe, Cain didn't move, simply staring ahead, lost in thought. Magus represented what he had been searching for: a shred of hope, a hint that he was, at last, looking in the right direction. Only now it seemed that this Twili wasn't the savior that he had so desperately wanted. Very disappointing, in truth--still, something of use might be derived from this Twili yet. There was no alternative but to stick with Lethe, the owner of the voice in his dreams.

Finally, after Lethe had responded, Cain stirred himself from his reverie and returned to Frore's shadow. "At ease, comrade," he intoned to the Chilfos from his favorite hiding-place, "This one is on our side. We seem to be gathering more 'Ones' by the minute; maybe if we stay here for an hour longer the rest will come to us." From his two-dimensional position on the ground, Cain took a second look at Lethe's ring, now lightly frosted and jammed onto one of Frore's long, spindly fingers. "Let's see. Frore, in a few moments I believe you are to become a Hylian. When that happens, you must swap out your cloak for the clothes the girl will provide." He shifted his voice to address the whole group. Only a few moments had passed, but in that space of time he guessed that Lethe and Magus must have had enough time for a brief introduction and exchange. "If your questions are answered, historian, I suggest we all get down to business. The fate of the world, after all, apparently rests in our hands."

Shifting and keeping hidden within the crowds, Izzaz made past Kaiver’s sight and made himself hidden among the festival attendance. Nearing midday, the streets, and attractions would be crowded, filled with laughter and joy, something Izzaz felt that he could rarely be a part of due to his outlook and the direction of his life where it was headed. To him, it looked bleak and grim. He took himself into the shadows from the crowds just for a moment in order to think. The Rova Twins would still be able to track him, knowing that they fed off of his anger, and hated that. When he reached the well in the shadow of the windmill, he looked down to try to discern the stony bottom, only for him to see his reflection as the sun peaked over the creaking blades.

He pressed his hands against the stone of the well, and looked down. “Master Izark… It’s been a long time…” Izzaz spoke to the water looking down upon it.

Izzaz smiled upon the water and a serene calm came to him. He remembered attending Izark’s furneral as his ashes were thrown down the Kakariko Well, as where is spirt lingered to this day as the proof lied in if one poured a strong enough alcohol down the well. Izark’s life often revolved around two things: combat, and drinking, but more so of the latter in his later years and Izzaz’s teens. His mentor was unorthodox in this fighting style and teaching, even as he would later become a drunkard, was often in a happy stupor, and develop a fighting style under that, he still deeply respected the old man that would easily beat Izzaz even under heavy intoxication in a legitimate fight. He was not as respected as much as the other elders, but for Izzaz, Izark would be the one that he would at least call a father figure. Almost every year, Izzaz would pour down the strongest ale he could afford and pour it down to see if Izark would drink it, thinking that bubbles would come up to see if his spirit would communicate with him.
So far, he did not have any luck despite the rumors of the ‘Drunkard in the Well’ that would come to others.
He couldn’t tell if he was talking to himself, or communicating to the spirit of his master, but at least he was talking to his watery grave and looked around to see if anyone, only an obese Hylian child with candy and a stuffed toy in hand as he held a green rupee. Izzaz glared at the kid as the child was startled and slowly walked towards the well in fear of the Shiekah’s presence. As soon as he got to its edge, he lifted his hand and dropped the rupee, and ran off in fear without saying a word, leaving Izzaz alone to his master’s grave.
Looking back into the water, he wondered if he could at least summon Izark’s spirt, and for now, he only had his potent moonshine. He checked his inventory and found the glass of clear liquid Izzaz had made himself. He only thought for a moment if he would crush some berries to sweeten it, or pour it down raw.

“Hmpf… why bother… I’m always buying the strongest ale for you. How about something special? Here is a little brew I cooked up. I hope you like it.“ He grabbed out the bottle of the clear, but potent moonshine. He took the cork off of the top and sloshed the liquid around to stir it, as he continued to look down the darkness of the well, only to take a sip, then giving the well a taste of the liquior.

Nothing happened, but Izzaz wasn’t ready to give up that easy. He then poured a little more of the liquid, only to have the same result. Finally, Izzaz out of mild frustration poured the rest of the bottle, empting it out. He waited for a moment, to find that for the third time the same results came to him. He scoffed and grew annoyed, closing the stench of the liquor in his bottle and began to think that it would be futile to get his attention. He started to breathe deep and hold in his anger as he headed off until he heard a few pops from the well.
Looking back, he grew curious and rushed back to the well. The water now dark and nearly black at the bottom, but he could see a faint reflection of himself within the disturbed waves only to have them smooth out to see it changing to the presence of an old and grey eyed man, with a long, white beard and a toothy grin, looking up at him.

“Master Izark… Is it you?” Izzaz looked down in question as he spoke to the figure. Was he speaking to his ghost, or was it his imagination playing tricks on him?

The ghostly figure’s laugh echoed a bit in the well and continued to smile in a taunting manner, as was the nature of the old Izark.

“You did a fine job, Izzaz. Hahahah…..” the ghost crackled and laughed at him, as he smiles using Izzaz’s reflection as cover. Izzaz immediately recognized it as Izark. Oh, that old spirit would have to answer for those times Izzaz tried to see him.

Izzaz began to glare at him, confused and angry. “What do you mean? What are you talking about you drunk fool?” he barked at the water.
The spirt kept laughing and crackling in a hysterical and mocking manner.

“Ganondorf is coming my child. All will soon be consumed… by him! Hahahaha…”

Izzaz had enough of the spirit’s laughter and reached down trying to grab the figure out of the water, only to grab merely the water and the reflection of his former master had disappeared. The ghostly laughter died down as the water turned clear, as high noon gave the notion that a shadow moved within the well and retreated further down into the catacombs under Kakariko Village. There was only one way he was going to find his master within those catacombs… and that was though the Shadow Temple. He would have to make his way to the graveyard for that first.

As Lethe started to circle him for whatever inspection that she deemed needed to be done, Magus didn't really pay her any mind. Following her movements would have been damn near impossible to do anyway and thus he didn't make the attempt, instead devoting his attention towards something much more practical. Walking towards the downed human girl that appeared to be sampling her own blood, the hooded figure reached out a gloved hand to her in an offer to help her up. He didn't say a word to the girl one way or the other nor would he say anything until she was on her feet once again regardless of the circumstances. Only then would he turn to look at Lethe once more, catching the tail end of Cain's words.

"I am more then aware of why the Goddess requested the presence of myself and it would appear others to gather at this festival, but I made it quite clear to her that my services would come at a price to be named once I met her agent." Magus explained as if it was just a simple fact like how the sky was often blue. He had been given plenty of time to work out what he wished to request and compared it to what was likely to be given... Taking a metaphorical deep breath, the man bathed in shadow made his request "In exchange for my services in order to save a world that I have little personal stake in, all I want from your Goddesses is an public apology to the decadents of those they sealed away in the realm of Twilight long ago; A simple recognition that they can feel guilt over those innocent bystanders who get caught up in their divine punishments and that they can tell the difference between the innocent and guilty to begin with. If you lack the authority to promise such a thing on your goddesses behalf Ms Lethe, then I suggest you get me in contact with someone who does."

Veitaru seemed unnerved by Magus's approach and seemed to be slightly paralyzed, not moving in response to his outstretched hands. When he looked away to monologue, he would hear the slight popping noise referred to below, and by the time he looked back she was gone.

Veitaru cricked her neck back and forth, once in each direction with deliberate slowness, causing a slight series of popping sounds. And then she rocked herself forward and onto her feet, once again, just one lean back before going forward.

She strode over, in slightly faster and more jittery way than absolutely necessary, to a corner in the cliff next to an unusual coloration pattern in the dirt, and began chipping away at the dirt with her dagger, eventually revealing something wooden. Pulling it out, Veitaru had quite some difficult with the feat, often making an inch or two of progress before stopping to catch her breath after a long series of tugs and pulls. Eventually, she got it far enough out that it would easy for a normal sized person to get a grip. Then with a glance and a smirk over at Frore, she asked, "Could you give me a hand? You look to have plenty of physical strength."

As she darted to the side to make more than enough room, she seemed to be contemplating something, and then, after smiling upon deciding upon something, she seemed to work herself up to respond. Then, she spoke up. "Wouldn't it be 'BUT the punchline is going to be so complicated that no one understands it.', without the either?" She seemed inexplicably proud of this correction, with a smug smile on her face.

Lethe stared at Magus as he spoke, silent and still.

“Well, of course,” she said, “Let me go get the Goddess Farore’s secretary and we’ll set up an appointment straight away! You should receive a letter in the mail within 2-3 business days."

She continued to float there, doing nothing—hoping her straight-faced sarcasm would sink in. Before he could respond, she spoke again….

“I know the history of your people,” Lethe said, her voice low and serious, “Your ancestors were cast into a realm of infinite twilight—separated from the land which housed the sacred Triforce. They sought dominion over the Sacred Realm and were amply punished for it. You and Cain are Twilight folk—a fact I am willing to overlook in favor of what the Goddess has asked me to do. But your personal beliefs and feelings of injustice mean little here. I have no more control over what the Goddesses will or will not do than you or any other person.

“You may not have a personal stake in the well being of those who inhabit this land, but I’d wager you have a personal stake in your own life. Feel free to take your chances and leave, but the fate of the world and your chances of ever restoring your broken self will mean little when the World of Light is dead and gone. Feel free to pray to them if it is answers you seek, but I can promise you nothing, Broken One. And I will not further explain the task at hand until the others have been found.”

Lethe continued to float there, firm in her decision. If answers for the injustice of his people were what Magus sought, he would not find them here—at least not now. She began to list off the people they were looking for without pause, tired of all the delays. She spoke with her eyes closed, as if reciting something from a mental image in her head,

“A man of Noble heart and deed. He is a ranger, tall and with a green cloak.

A hylian woman, somehow related to Fish. A fisherwoman, perhaps? She has long red hair….

An Old man. Very short with fair skin, a cloak and long white beard.

A young child garbed in Green. Red hair tied with a green ribbon….

A Cursed man wearing a mask… he has a somewhat strange appearance.

A young man with sky blue hair... Reluctant all his life and reluctant now to serve his calling....

A small, lonely creature-- eternally Lost. Her appearance is that of a never ending autumn-- hiding behind a Keaton mask.

A young Deku girl... Timid and sweet-- a bud not yet bloomed.

A strong, sturdy man covered in soot with an enduring smile... A Kindly individual.

A Darknut warrior-- too Proud for his own good.

A Shiekah warrior in a cream colored scarf-- a good, Reliable dog of the Royal Family.

A young man, Tricky as a fox, with dark hair and mahogany eyes....

A hylian farmhand, a Simple young man with dirty blond hair and rounded ears.

And lastly, a Foolish Shiekah warrior. He is an older man… with an injured arm. “

She paused for a moment, letting the information sink in. It was difficult to tell if they were listening at all consider only one seemed to have an actual face, so she hoped they wouldn’t ask her to repeat anything.

“There are a few others, but I will find them if you can find these thirteen and persuade them to meet near the entrance of the Shadow Temple,” she motioned towards the elevated entrance to the temple at the back of the graveyard. It was shrouded by several trees and at the top of a very steep hill—nigh impossible to climb unless you were very agile when it came to climbing trees, “I will explain everything once everyone has been found.”

You imbecile Cain groaned internally as Magus made his 'demands'. He was personally ashamed that a Twili, particularly a learned one as he seemed to be, could be so blind. Once more he felt forced to contain his sentiments, both out of his learned sense of propriety and the necessity of keeping his ill intentions to himself. To demand apology of these wretched Goddesses is no wiser than an ant demanding mercy from a boot. He wanted to growl, to unveil a hint of the wrath that smoldered in the shadows. Lethe's response only furthered his point. To them we are not people, not changeable, not redeemable. They see us as no more than monsters fit for the darkness. The fairy just said herself that she's only considering us 'Twilight Folk' for her mission because we are suitable pawns for her to use at this moment. The only justice either Magus nor Cain could hope to have would be to swat down those who mindlessly followed their cruel Goddesses like the sheep they were. Slaying their emissary was a new and inviting purpose, far more attainable than finding either Midna or a way back to the Twilight Realm.

That, however, would have to wait. And he could wait. As long as needed to he could be Lethe's pawn.

Summoned by Veitaru, Frore tentatively took a few steps in her direction before breaking out into a full walk. Given his impressive stature, a single stride for the Chilfos surpassed two of an average Hylian's. In no time he was standing at the cliff face. An hour from this moment the wall of stone would have cast him in its shade, but as it was nearly noon everything remained awash in sunlight. Frore let go of his spear, which promptly fell like the trunk of a young tree and, bereft of his cold aura, snapped into two pieces on the ground. The Chilfos didn't seem to notice; he had gripped the chest with both hands. A single tug was all it took -and more- to rip the box from its resting place in the packed soil and send it tumbling onto the ground. Mercifully, the aged, dirt-stained wood weathered the impact. Frore knelt ponderously and stiffly, a vast, icy manikin, and pried at the box's edges. His long, clumsy fingers proved unable to find enough purchase to seamlessly part lid from container, so he predictably resorted to brute strength. With a brief, protesting creak, container and lid parted company, and the latter was hurled sideways. Though he meant to throw it away from anyone, it was always possible that he missed somebody had carelessly projected the thin oaken slab in his or her direction.

With the top off, Frore could clearly see the clothes within. He picked up a length of cloth, possibly a cowl or scarf, and watched as his aura spread frost over the fabric. Before the frost grew too extensively, he let the scarf slip through his grasp and land without sound among the other clothes. Before long the warm sun would reduce the shimmering specks of ice to a mere spot of dampness. Next, Frore looked expectantly at the ring on his finger, as if it were going to cast its magic on its own.

Cain, as always, was focused on the mission. "It doesn't need to be said, then, that sooner is better." With that, he exited the shadow of his kneeling glacial companion and bounced between those of various objects around the graveyard until he was on his way down the trail. Equally lost in thought and dedicated to returning the the crowds in town to search for six others, he didn't notice a hooded man just beginning to ascend the graveyard path until he happened to enter his shadow, intending no more than to use him as another stepping stone. Like a poke from a needle, however, something quickly and painfully caught his attention. Cain stopped, sensing something, and attempted to pinpoint it as the walking Sheikah carried him back the way he came. This sensation was familiar, but also unique, much like the one that had emanated from Magus but much weaker. He quickly determined that the individual in whose shadow he rested was no Twili -that would have been far, far too much coincidence for one day- but nevertheless he seemed to host an inkling of dark magic. On another note, he moved quickly, with purpose and utter self-assurance. Clearly there was something in the graveyard that concerned him. Thinking quickly, Cain whispered, "Hurry," before going quiet, simply along for the ride. If this fellow was one of the six, Cain was in luck.

"Hmph," Lethe watched as the shadow that was Cain darted out of the graveyard like a scampering beetle that was impossible to squish. Some friend he is, she thought to herself, leaving our frosty socially inept friend here on his own yet again....

"Alright, big guy," she said, grabbing the ring's gem and twisting it this way and that, "This is going to be fun for you... and also very strange. Try not to fall over." Coupled with the high pitched ring, the same light that had enveloped Lethe during her demonstration blotted out Frore's icy form and ultimately dimming to reveal his Hylian self-- very much naked beneath his cloak.

When Frore heard the ringing noise, the memory of teleporting earlier first came to mind, and accordingly the Chilfos froze in a rather awkward position in a kneeling posture with one hand extended. Frore remained that was as the radiant, humming white light enveloped the already brilliant white of the ice. Though the spectacle would have been far more impressive at night, this overwhelming, blinding glimmer still managed to force everyone present to look away if they didn't want their eyes to throb with pain. From within the impenetrable glare, there came a loudly crackling sound, only adding to the chaos and sensory overload

Only seconds later, though it felt far longer, the illumination faded. When Magus, Veitaru, and Lethe once again looked where the Chilfos had stood moments before, a surprise awaited them.

Rather than a man, as was to be reasonably expected given Frore's more masculine characteristics as a Chilfos, a woman stood in its place. Despite being technically only three years old, Frore was a fully mature Hylian--evidently her natural, monstrous race didn't undergo any sort of conventional life cycle. Frore's skin was terribly pale, practically albino, as if it had never seen sunlight. She was, of course, very tall, rivaling and even beating most men at an impressive 6'2". However, just as the Chilfos had been, she was incredibly slender. Frore had never eaten anything in its life excluding water vapor, and as a Hylian she was little more than skin and bones. Despite that, she had healthy white hair somehow gathered into a large bun. On her long, sharp face was a vapid expression. Though hardly beautiful, she could be said to sport a certain rugged charm by those attuned to looks.

The partially-melted icicle spear on the ground had somehow also transformed. In the place of hyper-chilled water was white steel. The tip resembled that of a boar spear, with a deadly point and flaring lugs. Very confused by what had happened, Frore instinctively reached out for her weapon, the one familiar thing in sight. Even altered by the ring's magic, it felt natural in her hands as she picked it up and rose to her full height. Unsure about how to react to the eyes fixated upon her, Frore opened her mouth slowly, exploring the feeling. "Ss...sssah....aah...haaa.....I....ice."

Magus did not appear to respond to the fairies words. There was no physical sign of emotion, nor any emotional outcry to speak of. After a silence that dragged on for a moment longer then was comfortable, finally answered Lethe in his same, echo filled voice. "You assume much. But I guess that the destruction of your world would inconvenience me in the long run. You have my services then."

Watching as Cain fled the area and the fairy used her magic to transform the ice giant into a female hylian in silence. Watching as the figure attempted to come to terms with what had taken place, Magus waited until that matter was taken care of before speaking again. "I believe I've already met your 'Green one' already."

Elder Lyontus looked at the koridai child and blinked at her, trying to think of a way to respond to her and ask questions, but first, wanted to Despite being unphased by the childish antics, his mind tried to figure a way to put it in one sentence, but he would rather try to wonder why she did it. He took a breath in order to sigh and gather his thoughts for his judgment on her.

“It’s alright. We all had our share of bad deals… But concerning explosives, I would at least prefer that you had one of the Goron alchemists assist you rather than do them on your own. In addition, I sincerely think you should find this man in order to gather your goggles back. I think he may be suspicious in his intentions if he asks for such dangerous explosives in a public place. All I ask is that you don’t sell any more of the Kaboom potions, because I would not like to see you arrested.”
He then took a moment to consider the statement the fairy had told him. One clue was something about dreams. Could the same dreams that he was having be the same ones the Koridai child was having?

“Now concerning dreams… What dreams, child? Did the Goddesses ask you to come today? I do not believe such things happen by mere coincidence.”

Shortly, Kaiver came around and found the elder by the potion stall and stood beside him.

“Elder… I might need your help for this and might need the attention of the guards soon. The King will arrive any minute to begin the opening ceremony and I’m afraid of what might happen.”

“Kaiver! Why did you come so quickly? Did you find the Chilfos?”

“No… But I have a bad feeling of a certain Shiekah. A particular rouge one, more or less.”

“By the Goddesses! What madness is going on today? Has the world gone mad even after heeding the warnings of Ganon’s return?!”

Kaiver kneeled down and sighed, looking back at him. “Elder… I understand. If Ganon’s plan is to come back, then I believe this Shiekah is up to something that has to do with it.”

“How? How can such treachery be possible?”

“I don’t know… but is there any way you can help?”

The elder thought about it and began to think quickly, as he wondered if he could come along as he could detect the aura’s of beings, making it easy to detect a living person, even a Shiekah.

“I can come along. But under one condition…The Koridai child should be able to come along also… Her name is Mila, by the way…”
Kaiver looked at the red-haired forest folk, reminding him of his daughter. Even as he was reluctant to agree, He nodded and then checked to see if Sir Halbert was around before he got back up and whistled for his horse.

From the stables, Jade neighed and trotted to his position of him and the elder. Kaiver then quickly got on his horse and lifted his elder companion up behind him. Looking at the Koridai child, he then extended his arm for her to shake it at the counter and was ready to lift her up if she decided to come along.
“Sorry I to have to introduce myself like this. The name is Kaiver Greison. I am a Ranger and servant of the Royal Guard.”

"Ok... So, uh... uh... You." Veitaru seemed to have missed Magus's name in all the excitement. "If you consider yourself masculine, would you mind?" She gave a finger a slight twirl before pointing it in the other direction. "Turning around, please?

Turning back to Frore, "So. Gal, do you think you can handle dressing yourself or do you need some assistance. Nodding is fine." Vei attempted to make eye contact. She winced slightly, though not in Frore's visual range (yay for being short and leaning down compared to someone whose eyes are at nearly six foot), as she fetched the clothes from the beleaguered box. She held them forth. "These clothes will not fit properly, but I am ok at handling that."

((Lame post is lame, but I'm tired and this has the important bits. Will see if I can't improve later.))

Mercifully, Frore managed to put on the clothes Veitaru offered her fairly quickly and without interruption. Naturally, given her ignorance of Hylian customs, she spent the greater part of the minute in which she changed at least partially naked. Though she didn't seem to care who was watching, she still hurried the process along. A few moments later the shift was complete, and Frore stood almost fully clothed. As the Gerudo child had predicted, the clothes didn't quite fit. The burgundy wool shirt given to Frore left a little bit of her midriff exposed, and its sleeves didn't quite reach her elbows. What would have otherwise passed for trousers were shorts for her, resting on her kneecaps rather than ankles. Her slightly wet scarf managed to compliment the somewhat jumbled assortment of clothing well, deepening the impression of a poor, weather-beaten survivor. Veitaru, seeking to complete the image, cleverly reversed Frore's discarded cloak (its backside was a darker tone of brown and devoid of design) and tied it into half-dress over her linen legwear.

The spear, however, stood out from her like a lighthouse beacon in the storm. Its beautiful, deadly craft totally contradicted the look achieved by Frore's getup. Either she would have to leave it behind or find some way to carry it covertly. There was some sort of mechanism in the steel shaft that might be used to collapse it into a more hideable form, but even if Frore noticed it she wouldn't have been able to figure out how to activate it. Instead, Frore seemed fixated on her shadow. "Kuh...kan...kay...kuh...Cain?" She murmured, trying to make sense of her newfound voice as she used it. She tapped the butt of her spear into her shadow, but it didn't stir; her partner was not here. Plainly, Frore sought some sort of guidance.

The Kokiri child, becoming bored and distracted once more, had returned to the shady depths of her booth to tend to her explosive brew, stirring it with glazed eyes that stared past the glowing concoction. She had left her bread half-finished on the countertop as Shila was speaking to Elder Lyontus, feeling cross from being scolded. Did they not realize that she had already realized her mistake? She didn't need it hammered into her. The potion began to percolate, and Mila continued to watch it with an empty gaze. It shouldn't be too long before it was ready, just another dozen minutes or so.
"I can do it myself..." she pouted at Naklov, not turning away from her hunched position over her alchemy set. She didn't appreciate being talked down to like a child. She was older than anyone in Hyrule for Farore's sake! But no, no one can just let her craft potions in peace, they have to rub her nose in it.
"I won't get arrested, I'm not doing anything wrong!" Mila protested, her mood soured. "The Gorons can sell bombs and the smithies can sell swords and arrows, it's not fair that I can't sell potions! He said he needed to protect himself and he was much too thin to hold a sword so I... I thought it was a good idea! I'm not a little kid!" The rusty-haired girl began to grow more annoyed with herself as she spoke, desperately trying to defend a blatantly bad decision. The more words came out of her mouth, the more wrong she sounded, but she didn't know what else she could other than try to talk her way through it. Embarrassment gave way to shame as she stared into her controversial concoction. It was wrong of her, but she didn't see that at the time. She saw only a customer and a challenge worthy of her intellectual skills. Few alchemists were as gifted as she, and she had been eager to brew him a potion that displayed this.

...But it was still wrong, and as much as she could defend it selling the thin man the potion would not be the wise thing to do. Her emerald eyes flicked to his when he mentioned the Goddesses giving her visions at night, and her foul demeanor melted away into her familiar energetic smile as she bounced over to the counter.
"Oh yes! Farore has been speaking to me while I sleep, and she told me to be here today! It's a great honor to be an envoy of the divine, dontcha think? Hee hee! I thought that I was the only one! Did Nayru ask you to be here at the Hero of Time Festival, Naki? I wonder who Din had asked? Ha! Maybe I already know them just like I know you! Tee hee hee hee!" The little girl had become giddy as she had brought up her sacred mission. While it did not appear to be so, Mila had been puzzling it all morning. She figured that being productive was better than lazing around waiting for a sign, so she had planned in advance to sell potions to fund whatever she may need on her journey.
...In hindsight, a Cuckoo's egg load of good that did, but she was overjoyed that Elder Lyontus was a part of her little secret. As she began to prattle his ear off about the Goddesses and how happy she was and what they could be summoned for, she was interrupted by a taller, bearded man, bearing the insignia of the Royal House of Hyrule. The child remained silent as her emerald orbs darted back and forth as the men engaged in conversation. Important conversation from the sound of it. Mila felt like she'd skipped over a key chapter in a novel. A Chillfos? A rogue Sheikah? The Gerudo King? The little girl couldn't make heads or tails of it, and when she looked to her fairy companion she simply fluttered around, nearly as lost as she was.

Mila continued to watch perplexed when Elder Lyontus mentioned bringing her along, when she pointed at her own chest as to question if it was her she was referring to. Her eyes lit up when the realization fully settled, and the tall man whistled for his steed. This was it! The adventure that the great Goddess of Courage had intended on her to embark upon! Her face felt flush as the blood rushed to it, and she grew more excited than she had all day. Mila hopped up and down and clapped her hands ecstatically.
"Yaaaay!" she cheered, "I wanna go! I wanna go! Go on an adventuuuure~!" When the tall man introduced himself as Kaiver Greison, she took his hand with both of hers and throttled it up and down with boundless energy.
"It's so so very nice to meet you! My name's Mila and I'm a Kokiri and I'm almost a-hundred-and-thirty-eight years old and-" Her face fell into shock for just a moment, as if a sound only she could hear had rang out throughout the festival.
"I'llberightback!" Mila broke eye contact and scurried back behind the vine curtains of her stall leaving them to sway where she once had been. Scrambling over to her makeshift cauldron, Mila dug into her pack and pulled out her canteen, dumping the contents onto the charcoal. Cautiously, she also produced a glass jar and gently began to scoop the brew inside.
"Be careful," her fairy warned.
"I'm careful."
"Carefully now..."
"I'm being careful..."
The concoction was a murky grey color with a slight tinge of green like swamp water, giving off a soft glow from its glass case. It smelled of gunpowder and iron, and Mila was impressed with her handiwork. She couldn't really test it until an opportunity arose, but she was sure that it would make a magnificent 'boom'. Wrapping it securely in her cloak to avoid it clanking and rattling against anything in her pack and potentially killing them all, she fit it snugly in one of the side pouches of her pack, turning to her tarp which she tossed her alchemist set into and folded it into a big ball that she also stuffed into her pack. With all of her things physically prepared and herself mentally prepared, the Kokiri scuttled to the front sign and turned it around to indicate close of business. Taking Kaiver's hand, he lifted her up and plopped her down on the horse to sit in front of him.
"Did Din speak to you in your dreams, Mister? What did she say? Does she sound as pretty as I think she sounds? Who's this Sheikah and what Chillfos? Is the Gerudo King really coming back? Where are we going? Can we have lunch when we get there? Have you ever met the King before? What's your horse's name? Why do you need me to come along? Is it because..." Mila began to ask an armful of questions in a rapid-fire fashion as the old man, the ranger, and the little girl began to ride.

The barrage of questions almost made it seem impossible for him coherently to answer her questions. As much as he loved Krya’s curiosity, the Koridai child overt was something new altogether to him. He thought quickly to answer as much as he could within a short time frame. Even learning to think on his feet was something he did in combat, but not in responses of questions.

“It might be Nayru, I’ve known him since I was in training, the horse is Jade, and the um… Shiekah what I’ve heard goes by Izzaz? I guess Izzaz might be his name…” he sighed out and trotted his horse away from the stalls and into the village streets. Being as packed as they were, the shadow folk could easily hide within the crowds, and the best could do so in plain sight. Still he held on to the reigns of his horse and began to search for the rouge. He felt that finding a needle in a haystack would have been a lot easier compared to searching for a particular Shiekah.

“Quite the chatterbox, is she?” Naklov said with a smile on his face as he held on Kaiver’s tunic.

“She reminds me of my daughters. Not to offend, as much as I love them, they weren’t as quick with such wits and tongues.” Kaiver responded

“It takes patience to get used to her. She’s quite the bright one I will admit.” The elder chuckled back as he heard his response.

I suppose so… Kaiver thought. He thought of a way to divert the Koridai’s attention to something else, such as the search for Izzaz. “Koridai… could you help me find the Shiekah? Oddly enough, he does not look like a typical person of the tribe. He looks more so a Ranger and a rouge than an assassin.”
_-_-_

Izzaz rushed up the path to the graveyard and began to wonder why his master would betray him and his clan to someone that would willingly extinguish and exterminate every last of his tribe. Wealth? Drink? Power? A second chance to live in an immortal body, made of Ganon’s twisted creation? He did not know and had little care for the rumors of the Gerudo King’s return, but for whatever reason, he was going to find out why and was going to get to the bottom of it.
At the foot of the entrance, he could see a mixed group of figures. A dark robed whickered figure, a Gerudo child in his clan’s clothing, a lithe woman with pale skin as white as snow, and an anomaly at the far end of the graveyard that he senced as a fairy of sorts.

Great... Whoever gathered these freaks together must have been foolish or as clever as the Goddesses themselves.... Whatever they are here for must have something to do with the festival.

His cyinical growl was apparent as he thought and began to retch the graveyard entry, only to be stopped by the ethereal and disembodied voice that caught his attention. Alerted, he drew his swords and took a moment to stop and look around, trying to find whatever spoke to him.

“Show yourself, and I might give you a fair fight!” he shouted as he stood at the gate.