My foot kicks the door closed after four hours of berry hunting. Each red one was the size of a pea, the black ones were as big as an almond, the purple ones were peanut-sized, and the white ones were between the purple and black, but very round and fat. Needless to say, it took forever to fill the huge basket.

Even though I'm exhausted and sore, I'm exceedingly proud of myself.

I finally learned some archery, and I've gotten better than ever. My back hurts from bending down for berries, and my basket is nearly overflowing. Maybe I should tell Hope the news, that I learned how to use a bow. I have a new appreciation for her talent.

Sheik isn't in the house, which is unusual but I don't care. The faster I can polish my skills, the easier that I can rid of them. Maybe I will call Hope, just because I haven't heard anything from her yet.

I rummage through my burgundy pockets, trying to find the correct one where I stashed my mirror. The cool surface of the mirror grazes my fingertips in my shoulder pocket, so I yank it out. My hands get shaky with excitement, and I tap it three times.

Good thing that Ganon full-proofed these things so that only my touch can make it call my sisters. Unfortunately, anyone can touch it and it'll answer the incoming call. So if Luck and Hope ever call, I have to be the first to reach this mirror or I'll be screwed.

I wait a few moments, and then Hope's vibrant, smiling face appears in the place my reflection should be.

From the shoulders and up, she is soaked. I assume the rest of her body is as well. Her bleach blonde ringlets hang loosely in their pigtails. Unlike the blue butterfly clips that usually keep them up, there are two small Zora-like fins holding them in place. Her blue eyes emphasize her excitement.

"Karma!" She exclaims. I giggle.

"Hey, Hope! How's it going?"

Her eyes twinkle. "Really good! The Zoras even gave me special clothing! Artificial Zora fins that strap to my legs and arms, along with flipper-like boots! I can swim fast like them, and I almost look like one too! They look like they're made of Zora skin! And, the clothes they gave me enable me to breathe underwater like them! To make it really cute, I have two longer fins at my waist like a dress!" She says with enthusiasm.

I want to say that I'm happy and all, but she's not meant to be making friends. She's meant to freeze them. Knowing Hope, now that her mind's in this rut, it'll be hard to get her out.

"Hope," I sigh. Her smiles melts away. "You're not meant to be friends with them. You and I both know that the closer you get to them, the harder this job will be. You remember rule number one, don't you? Don't get close to anyone, and don't develop any feelings for anybody. If you do, you're a dead traitor," I remind her calmly.

Her sapphire eyes avert themselves, which she does when she's nervous.

"Hope?" I ask gravely. Her eyes travel to mine, and she looks like she's going to burst into tears.

"Karma, I have something I have to tell you," she murmurs. I give a small smile of encouragement. She doesn't need to be scared of me.

"I kinda like this one Zora..." she whispers. My eyes bulge.

"Hope!" I hiss. She can't be falling in love with one!

"I'm sorry, Karma! But his name is Prince Ralis!" She says.

A prince?! That makes it even worse!

"Hope, please no! You can't love this Zora boy!" I warn like a mother scolding her teenage daughter.

"But I think he likes me too! He said I was cute, and always watches when I'm getting swimming lessons from my teacher. He always smiles at me, and we talk a little," she replies.

I rub between my eyes. "Hope, I'm sorry, but you can't be with him. Rule number one! I know how you feel, and you know that I love you, but I'm at least telling you this so that you don't have to deal with Bad Luck. Please, try to stay away from him."

Poor Hope, only at 16 and her emotions always get the better of her. She wears her heart on her sleeve, which doesn't help either.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Karma. But he even asked me out. I'm sorry, and... I'll try to decline."

"Hope, sweetie, don't cry. I feel really horrible, and I would have approved it any other day, but this is our job."

She sniffles a bit. "I know."

"Just focus on the mission. That's all it is, a mission," I try to make it sound insignificant; when in reality, she's probably killing them slower and more painfully than I am with the Sheikah.

"Okay, don't tell Luck," she whimpers. I give a small smile, as if I could pull her into a hug like I always do when she's down.

I give a smile beneath my bandana. "I won't. Now I have to go. Goodbye, love you," I say gently.

"Bye. Love you too," she replies, and gives a small smile.

She taps the screen, and it fades. I sigh, and fall onto Sheik's bed. Who am I to get involved in her love life? Who am I to take her away from the person she might love, from the person who might die for her?

I feel like the sky has fallen, and every time I exhale, it gets heavier and heavier until I'll collapse. This stress is getting to me.

To calm myself, I run out of Sheik's house, slamming the door behind me. I run out to the south of the village, to the river that runs with fish and fresh water. No one's around.

I rip off my clothes, and jump into the warm water. I let it soak into my skin, and sink below the water. It has a lazy current, and a sandy bottom with no large, sharp, slippery rocks. For a river, it's really deep. About twenty feet.

I stretch out my limbs, and lay on my back as I slowly sink to the bottom. My silver hair glints in the blue light, and the sun looks distorted but just as bright casting awkward shadows over my body. The patterns of the water float around me in the light, and my violet eyes blink slowly. My back finally makes a thud against the bottom of the river, and my whole body lies flat in the sand flowing around me.

Luck taught me this as a form of meditation. It allows you to center your problems over your life, which is the true test of concentration. You have to focus your breath, and regulate your adrenaline so you don't panic. I stay down there for a good three minutes, thinking.

I feel bad about Hope. I want her to be able to love Ralis. But this is our mission! I want to defy rule number one, let them love each other. But if I do, Ganondorf will kill us. Not to mention Luck, who will have a bird. And a cow, and a horse, and the whole fricking barn for that matter.

My lungs start to burn without oxygen, so I make one large stroke and I slowly float back to the top.

My mind has cleared itself, and I feel equally as horrible, but a better type of horrible if that makes any sense. I know that I'm despicable for forbidding Hope from seeing Ralis, the prince; but at the same time, there's nothing I could've done about it. This is our mission, this is our money so that we don't starve.

I slip my dark burgundy skin-tight leggings on, and then start to place the lighter burgundy flexible armor on over it, tying it in place with common Sheikahn white wraps. I do the same with my top, and my stomach stays bare, uncovered.

Vulnerable.

My wrapped fingers slide my black daggers into my calves and upper arms, and I walk to Sheiks's house. People are running around, some dragging shields and weapons, others yelling orders. I want to know what the commotion is about, but I'm just too mentally exhausted to care.

Not that I'd do anything anyway.

Some are being carries on stretchers, and I see a few arrows lodged in the ground. Like I'd care.

I walk back into the house, my silver hair plastered to my neck and my heavy wet eyelashes making my eyelids droop. The Triforce sticks to my face, also wet.

Before I go to bed, I'd like to be drier. I rummage through Sheik's cabinets and sure enough, I find a big, thick, square-cut cloth; so I can only assume that it's a towel. I skim over my clothes which have gotten slightly damp, and then take off my bandana and rub it through the absorbent fibres. When it's dry, I put it back on.

Wrapping it around my silver hair, I secure it and fall back onto the crisp sheets of the bed. I scrub my hair for a minute, and even though it's nowheres near being dry; I rip it off my head and wrap myself in the warm fabric.

On top of soft sheets, my head on a fluffy pillow, wrapped like a piggy in it's blanket... Who wouldn't fall asleep? And, I'm beyond exhausted.

My purple eyes start to drift, and close in seconds.

Right then, the door slams, and my eyes bolt open again. Who dares to ruin my nap?! And just when I almost fell asleep.

Sheik walks in, limping, at a brisk pace. In a second he's at the cabinets, looking for gauze and disinfectant.

"Sheik?" I say groggily. He turns, and my eyes widen.

A long cut goes down his face, dripping blood; and his cowl has spots of blood on it. His left ankle is soaked in red, and more blood splatters his outfit. He looks at me blankly, grasping his right shoulder. When I take a closer look at it, I see an arrow sticking out of it.

"Sheik!" I exclaim, and jump off the bed to him.

One thing that bothers me is, why am I so worried about him?

He grunts, and makes his way to the chair. Sheik pulls down the white-and-red-splotched cloth covering his face, and he holds the gauze with his teeth as he wraps it around his arm. He is very hurried.

"Sheik, let me," I say, and take the gauze. His grip falls, and he easily lets go.

"What happened?" I ask, but then realize I can't put gauze on his shoulder because an arrow is sticking out. I move onto wrapping his bloody ankle, and prop it on a pillow on my lap.

"A whole herd of bokoblins attacked us. There was more than one hundred, and it started when you were gone. I got nervous, because I thought, what if you were killed by them in the forest?" He cares about me? Why? "The protectors held them off, and the warriors arrived. I haven't technically picked any job yet, so I fought as a warrior. The bokoblins had clubs and bows and daggers... They injured a lot of us. But no one was killed," he says with gratitude.

"Sheik," I murmur. He looks at me, and my heart goes to my throat when his crimson eyes gaze at mine. "I need to take out this arrow. It'll hurt," I say. That way, he can't blame me for it.

He nods, and closes his eyes. I wrap my hands around the shaft, and his jaw clenches. For a moment, I look at his uncovered face.

Tan and angular, strong, with dirty blonde choppy hair falling in front. The same as it was before, but now, a huge gash goes from his forehead to his left cheek; marring it. I'll admit, he is rather handsome.

"Three... Two..." I take a breath, and look at Sheik's face again. His eyes close, and his chest heaves with a huge breath. How can he stay so calm?

"One." I start to pull, and Sheik's eyes snap open. It makes a sickly ripping sound as I pull it out, and I cringe.

Sheik's jaw clenches, and I keep pulling. Blood blossoms and stains the navy fabric beneath his armor a deep black, and it starts to leach into the light blue armor. He doesn't make a sound. I purse my lips, and stop. Sheik lets out a huge breath, and sweat beads on his forehead.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "It's really deep. I'll have to pull it again."

He nods, and closes his eyes. The way he masks his pain is unbelievable.

"Ready?" I ask, and he nods again. My hands tighten, and I yank again.

His mouth opens in a silent moan, and sweat starts to trickle down his paling face. I let out a huge breath, and finally, pull with all the strength I can muster.

He yells, unable to stay quiet any longer. I yell too, and I feel my shoulders burning as if it was his. The arrow rips something, and then comes loose. I yank it again, and flies out of his shoulder, shattering part of the flexible armor around it. It falls from my grip, making a clatter against the wooden floor, splattering blood around it.

I grab the gauze, and Sheik looks like he's about to pass out.

"Sheik, it's okay. Uh... Try and remember all the meals we've had together in the right order," I tell him. Whenever I need distraction from pain, I always try to remember the last things that I ate as a form of a distraction.

Usually, none come to mind.

He nods, and starts to concentrate on that. My nimble hands wrap the cloth around tightly, and tie and twist it. He groans a little, so I loosen it. I finish the knot, and our ragged breaths echo through the house.

Sheik's red eyes look at me, and then roll to the back of his head, and his head lolls forward. With the blood loss from his ankle and the pain of the arrow, I don't blame him for passing out. Anyone would have; and he lasted longer than most people would. I leave him on the chair, and run out of the house.

I run to the medicine shop, and practically fall onto the counter. The man looks at me, and I yell,

"I need a potion!" He looks startled, and is probably about to say something like how handing off potions to careless teens is dangerous; but I scream, "Now!"

He jumps, and hands me a purple one. I sprint to the house, and see Sheik in the same position, but his eyes are fluttering.

As one of the Sisters of Fate, I am exceptionally strong for someone my size. But maybe strong is the wrong word. How about this: I have exceptionally increased endurance for someone my age. Yes, that's better.

I take Sheik's uninjured arm and put it over my shoulder, lifting his whole body onto my back. He must weigh at least 170 lbs compared to my 125. I lay him across the bed, and begin treating him further. He won't die, but he needs attention. And this'll have to do until we get some professional assistance.

"Karma..." he mutters. I ignore it. "Why are you..."

"Because you're injured, that's why. Shut up and sit still," I say. I don't want to be rude, but he can't be wasting his energy.

Sheik stays quiet, and I sit him upright to feed him the potion. I feed him half, and it knocks him out cold. I lay him down and my hands grasp right his arm, and I close my eyes and I gently feel it for anything ripped, torn, or broken. It seems to be just his shoulder, but he jarred his thumb. While he's out, I pop it back into place, and he moans a bit.

His other arm is fine. I gently put my hands on his chest and feel, tracing my hands along his built chest and stomach. Nothing seems to be broken that won't heal in time.

I take a piece of wood and splint Sheik's right arm so that his shoulder will heal in the right position, and take another thinner piece of cloth from the same cabinet that I found the towel in. I wrap it around his neck and arm, and tie it to cradle his arm.

Next, I take off his cowl and wraps around his face. I take a dishcloth and soak it in cold water, and place it on his forehead. Then, I get to his ankle. It's not broken, but it sure is sprained. He must have twisted it real bad out there.

I wrap the towel around his left ankle, as a form of a cast. I secure it with some extremely tightly wrapped gauze. The worst part was popping it back into position. Even that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight.

I look around his house, and finally find the crutch I used. I put it next to his bed, for him to use later.

"Karma..." Sheik murmurs again.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, and he tries to sit up, but I pin him down by his uninjured shoulder, and my other hand against the side of his neck.

"Stay down, Sheik. This'll take awhile to heal, you realize," I say.

"Yeah..." He mumbles, and we sit in silence. When I think he's fallen asleep, he says. "Thanks, Karma. Why are you going through so much to help me? I'm fine," he says.

"Why wouldn't I? And you're definitely not fine. Hey, do you want to go for a 10 km endurance race?" I ask with mock enthusiasm. He chuckles.

"No, I guess not." He licks his lips, and I sit on the end of his bed.

"Do you know who sent those bokoblins?" I ask, and really hope it isn't the dumb, power-hungry man that I'm thinking of.

"Well... All signs point to Ganondorf." Why would Ganon do this? Does he think that he needs to soften them up for me? Ugh.

At the mention of Ganon's name, Sheik's eyes filled with bloodlust. The only reason I recognize it is because of Luck, and how she loves to dish out bad luck.

"I hate Ganondorf," Sheik barks with malice. Almost immediately, his eyes close and he grabs his shoulder and clenches his fist.

"Be careful. Quit giving yourself stress," I warn. I move his hand, but his warm fingers wrap around mine.

"He gets everyone to do his dirty work."

Tell me about it.

"All he wants is power for himself, and misfortune for everyone else! The nerve he has..." Sheik says angrily. "And he just tortures us as a pastime! Unbelievable... I'd rather die than work for, or under him."

Funny, that was my only choice. Starve to death with my sisters? Or accept a mission from a whack job? I chose life.

Sheik looks at me, his expression furious. When he doesn't have his face covered, he becomes much more capable of showing emotion. When he puts on that cowl, it acts as a wall that doesn't let any feeling pass. While wearing the cowl, he is an emotionless warrior, I'll definitely give him that. In a month, I'll respect him after he's gone as a worthy opponent.

Sheik's red eyes look deep and hollow, but still filled with bloodlust. With the most spite possible, he says,

"I wish everyone that agrees with him, or works for him, would just die."