The Legend of Midna: Clockwork Darkness
Chapter One
There stood a tall tower, one unlike any he had ever seen before. Near the top was a strange-looking round something that turned out a steady chunk chunk chunk as its outer ring rotated. He looked all around, trying to take in everything at once. The land had seemed like the land he knew, but this was completely new. He pulled his cloak forward on his shoulders and then began to make his way through the city. A child walked past him, whom he stopped for a moment.
"Excuse me, lad," he said, controlling his accent as best he could in an attempt to not sound foreign, "but could you tell me, what is that tower there?" He pointed a long, olive-skinned finger towards the tower with the round something on its front.
"You not from around here, sir?" said the boy with a bemused look on his face. "That's the clock tower, it is, but I thought everyone knew that."
"Yes, well," he said, in an attempt to copy the boy's accent, "I'm a traveler and where I come from, we haven't got clock towers. In fact, we haven't even got clocks, so I don't really know what that is or what it's for. Could you possibly tell me?"
"Yes, sir," said the boy, looking puzzled. "It's for telling time. I dunno really how it works, but I just know that's what it's for."
"I see," he said. "Well, time is something I do know about. Perhaps not everything in this world will be a mystery to me." He stared up at the thing which he now knew was called a clock, mesmerized by its perpetual and steady rotation. "Thank you, lad. I'm sorry I took you away from your playtime."
"No problem, sir," said the boy, looking confused but not sorry to be leaving the man. He watched the boy run off, and then continued on his way. He passed through what he concluded must have been the commercial district, even though all he found was a shooting gallery, a milk bar, and a puzzle game in which he had no interest. Eventually he came to a building marked with a sign that read "The Stock Pot Inn: 8 a.m. to 8:30 p.m." He stared at the sign, puzzling over what it meant, until a man in a red jumper sporting a great red walrus mustache spoke to him.
"Watchoo lookin' at, eh mister?"
"This sign," he said. "I don't quite understand it."
"What about it don't you understand?"
"Well, I've gathered that this is a boarding establishment, but these numbers, eight a.m. to eight-thirty p.m.…what does that mean?"
"Well that's the time what this place is open," said the mustachioed man. "Ain't you from around here?"
"No, actually," he said. "I'm a traveler and where I'm from, we haven't got clocks. Time isn't something we measure, really." He paused. "So tell me, if this place opens at eight a.m., how long must I wait before I can enter?"
"You can go in now, if you like," said the man with the walrus mustache. "It's almost noon."
"What is noon?" he said with genuine interest.
"Blimey, don't you – well, no, you just said you haven't got clocks where you're from, so you wouldn't know how to tell time. Well, noon is when the sun is at its highest, so when it gets to be noon the day's half over."
"I see," he said. "So, has noon got a number to go with it or is it just 'noon'?"
"Oh, right," said Mr. Mustache. "It's also 12 o'clock p.m. See, p.m. starts at noon and a.m. starts at midnight. They've figgered it to where there's twenty-four hours in a day, so they go through one through twelve twice over, see. But, sir, not to be rude but I really must be going."
"Oh, no, please don't let me keep you," he waved an olive hand to signify his lack of concern. "You've been quite helpful. Thank you."
He entered the inn, his head buzzing with everything he'd just tried to take in. They measured time here, they had a device with which to do it… it was almost too much to take in. He strode over to the desk where he was met by a red-haired woman. With that red hair, he thought, I'd say she was a Gerudo if it weren't for that pale skin of hers.
"Hello, sir," she said in a timid voice. "Welcome to the Stock Pot Inn."
"Thank you very much for your hospitality," he said. "Hah, I see you have one of those clocks in here too. Fascinating…"
"Yes, sir," she said, not sure what to make of that statement. "They're in every public building, and most private ones, too. Um…so, will you be staying the night?"
"Yes, I believe I will be," he said. "That sounds like a brilliant idea."
"Could I get your name, sir?"
"For what reason?" he said, an incredulous smile showing his white teeth.
"I need to mark you in my ledger so that I don't mistakenly try to give your room away to someone else. Mother says I am quite absent-minded."
"All the best of us are from time to time," he said jovially. "In that case, of course you can. Zagros is my name. That's z-a-g-r-o-s, Zagros. Now, where do I go from here?"
"Upstairs to the end of the hall," she said. "Now, that will be 50 rupees."
"Rupees?" he said. "You use rupees here? Interesting…well, I'm afraid I haven't got any on me. You see, I'm a king, so I have no use for money."
"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but everyone pays here," she said. "But, if you haven't got any money, I guess…just don't worry about it. I don't guess one night without payment will put us out of business."
"You are too kind," said Zagros. "Now, can you tell me who I can speak to in order to learn more about these clocks and the other devices I'm not familiar with?"
"Yes," she said. "There's an astronomer not too far from town who lives in his astral observatory. Not really sure what he does there, but I'm sure if anyone can help you with whatever it is you want to know, he'd be the one."
"You are most helpful," said Zagros, and he bowed low.
"Hello?" came the voice of an old man. "Who's there?"
"My name is Zagros," he said, as he reached the final landing at the top of the stairs.
"How did you get in here?" said the old man. "This is my private observatory."
"That little boy let me in," said Zagros. "Now, I need your help. I need you to teach me the secrets to this world."
"Well," said the astronomer, "what do you want to know?"
"Everything."
Fifteen years passed, and Link woke from his bed with a start.