Chapter 1: Shadows
A shadow grew on the land. It was a stealthy ill, one that no one noticed, or felt, or even suspected, but this ill was spreading, slowly and silently, and preparing for the day when it would let itself be known to the world. It was ready to take back what was once their master's—to take back what rightfully belonged to them.
And no one knew. Yet.
But they would know, and woe to any who got in the way.
He who commanded this shadow, who controlled its spread, who commanded its armies, began to focus his will and his mind on the place where it would begin—the place where the shadows would no longer have to sneak about like rats in a trashheap.
Soon. It would be soon.
The village of Woodvalley sat on acreage that was fertile and rich. It was a small village, as villages went, and it was one where everyone in it knew everyone else. Fields bordered Woodvalley to the south and east, and to the north and west lay lush forest—it was this forest that had given Woodvalley its name.
The village was small, but very important, for it lay directly in the middle of the Kingdom of Hyrule, and this was only one of the reasons it had been chosen to host the kingdom's most important ceremony: The Solstice Festival, called Summer Festival by most. Other reasons the king of the day had seen fit to choose this unassuming town included the honest and courageous reputations of the town's leaders and militia, the vast areas around town that could accommodate wagons and tents, and even simple sleeping bags, and the town hall big enough for the leaders of the realm to gather and talk of laws and other heavy matters.
As the day turned to afternoon, the town square bustled with cheerful, and sometimes frantic, activity under the hot sun. At the firepit, a small army of men and women were cleaning and preparing the area for the festival's bonfire, which must be maintained throughout the Festival. They swept the stones, removed old ashes, and brought in dried hardwood to burn. An entire cart had been brought in, pulled by a little black-colored pony, and it was full of this wood. And still they wondered if they would need to haul in more. The bonfire would have to be big enough so that the goddesses who watched over Hyrule could see it, after all.
In other places, vendors and showmen set up stages and booths, meant for selling wares and for playing games of chance and skill. More children ran about this area, feeling so excited about the coming festivities that they could hardly stand still for even a moment. Many adults had taken advantage of this energy and put the youths to work, gathering supplies, hammering nails, and other such chores. Most children were happy to help, especially if it would hasten the time when they would be able to play the games, and watch the shows.
Off to one corner of the town square, two groups of people stood, a group of children, and a group of adults; both were garbed in ceremonial and tribal costume, representing the tribes and clans their ancestors had come from. They were the choir and the children's choir, and would be singing on the main stage for the opening and closing ceremonies. The adults were practicing at the moment, while the children listened, or giggled, or even snickered at one alto's wide mouth, or one of the tenors, whose loincloth had come apart a bit at the back.
There were tents and booths, tables and roped off arenas, where races and shows and classes would be held, and people talked and laughed excitedly as they roped areas off and put up temporary fences.
Near the firepit, a small army of villagers dragged chairs and benches from all other parts of the city. They would need the seating for the massive influx of visitors they would have that year for the summer festival; for the town, called Woodvalley, had been long ago chosen to host this most important of ceremonies every year. In a week, the Solstice Festival would begin.
The excitement was almost a physical thing, and even the grouchiest of curmudgeons could feel it—even if they would not admit it. It showed in their eyes.
Atop massive poles that surrounded the flagstones which paved the center of the square, teenagers and young men and women stood on ladders with garlands and ribbons in hand, set to decorate the standing poles with bright colors that would flutter in the wind. The odd child climbed the poles too, those whose mothers and fathers would allow them to climb so high.
One of the children decorating the poles was a young girl called Kaikara. She was a child of eleven seasons, and she loved Festival more than anything in the world—every year, she helped prepare for the festival, doing all the most dangerous jobs (those he could convince the adults to let her do…sometimes) such as climbing the poles and buildings, and climbing the high trees from which bushels of apples and other things were harvested. She was the most adventurous child in the town, and loved to do things that just maybe she was not supposed to.
But for today, she had permission to risk a broken leg, and she talked happily with the older Hylians as they decorated the poles. Kaikara had a handful of orange, yellow, and red silk streamers, and used a hammer and nails to secure them to the top so that they would stream out when the wind blew. Once she finished affixing the streamers, another would climb up and fasten a decorative topper to the pole, completing the look.
"Hey!" called a voice from below Kaikara. She paused, holding onto the last streamer, and peered down at who had hailed her. She smiled to see one of her friends, a little girl called Nyree, peering up at her. Kaikara did not have many friends, as her brash personality was sometimes difficult to be around, but Nyree seemed to be able to overlook that.
"What?" Kaikara called. She shoved the shock of white hair that spilled from her head in every direction away from her eyes. She was the only one in the village with white hair, and it was the only thing she really liked about herself. Her father had told her it was the Sheikah blood in her; he had a grandmother who had been descended from that long-ago tribe. Otherwise she thought she was too short and didn't have enough muscles. She had a fond wish that all the hard work she often did would remedy that last problem.
"Are you supposed to be up there?" Nyree called, grinning impishly.
Kaikara gave Nyree a look that dried to be irritated, but broke into a snort of laughter instead. "Yes I am! I got permission!" She paused, and added a bit grudgingly, "This year."
Nyree broke into a bright peal of giggles. It was not the first year Kaikara had performed the more risky chores for the Summer Festival, but it was the first time she was officially allowed. Her parents simply realized that Kaikara was going to find a way to do it anyway, and it was just easier for everyone involved to let her. After all, she had not broken anything yet.
"You have to come look!" Nyree called, once her giggling had tapered off. "The main stage is getting put up!"
Nyree was only eight, and was still fascinated by the building of the various stages and booths. Kaikara was excited to see them go up, because it meant Festival was nearly there, but the novelty of the building had long since worn off. Still, Nyree liked to watch, and so Kaikara would accompany the younger girl. "Wait! I'm almost done!" She turned back to her work—she was a hard worker, sneaky or not, and she wanted to finish the job, first. She quickly nailed in the last streamer and swept all of the loose nails into the carpenter's apron she wore around her waist. She slipped the hammer into its loop and began to descend the ladder. A teenaged boy approached, holding one of the pole toppers.
"About time," the boy grumbled, and Kaikara stuck her tongue out at him. Nyree giggled.
"C'mon!" said Nyree excitedly. She grabbed Kaikara's hand and nearly dragged her across the grass. Kaikara let herself be dragged.
The two girls trotted to where the main stage would stand; this stage would be to one side of the bonfire, with plenty of room around it for people to stand and watch. It would be a round stage, surrounded by torches, and the most important acts and announcements would be made from it.
Nyree watched the men building the stage, fascinated at how the wood was planed, cut, fitted, and fastened. Kaikara, who had seen it (and participated in it) many times before, let her mind wander. She wondered if the king and queen would be at the Summer Festival this year. She knew the royal family always tried to attend, but it was not always possible—running a kingdom wasn't exactly easy. The militia and guardsmen were being close-mouthed on the subject as always, but Kaikara had hopes. She had always wanted to meet the king.
"I can't wait," said Nyree, shifting from foot to foot. "I just can't wait."
Kaikara couldn't, either. "Hey," she said suddenly. "Let's go to the playground. I'm bored." She actually wanted to get back to Festival preparations, but she couldn't do a lot with Nyree there—and she didn't just want to ignore her friend. The playground was fun enough, and she could work on growing her muscles, too. She had not yet noticed any difference since she had started trying to strengthen them, but she was hoping.
Nyree was about to answer when a shy voice spoke up behind them. "Hi…."
Kaikara knew the voice and groaned quietly, ignoring the dirty look Nyree shot her. The voice belonged to Trow, of Eastside, who not was Kaikara's favorite person. Nyree turned around to greet the little boy. Trow was eight, too, but seemed much younger than Nyree.
"Hi!" said Nyree, and Kaikara finally turned around.
Trow was small and thin, with strings of tan, wispy hair lying flat on and about his head. He was standing with his hands clasped awkwardly in front of him, and he was dressed too warmly for the weather, with breeches, boots, and a long-sleeved tunic. His dark, elvish eyes turned a little apprehensively up to meet hers, and she managed to smile at him. "Er, hi," said Kaikara.
Trow was a sweet boy, and Kaikara liked him all right, but he was a fragile and sheltered child, and Kaikara often had no patience for him. He was sickly, at least that's what he said, and had to be careful what he ate, and what he did, and how he took care of himself. His mother coddled him, hardly letting him do anything, and Kaikara often wondered if that was because of his frailty…or the other way around.
"Aren't you supposed to be with your mother?" said Kaikara. She had not meant to sound unkind, but her voice was loud and brash, and it came out sounding that way all the same.
Trow blushed, his pale skin going pink. "I'm with my dad."
Well, that explained it. Trow's father was one of the village guardsmen, and in fact commanded the guardsmen and militia both. While Trow's mother babied him, his father, at least, let the kid be a normal kid. "Oh," said Kaikara. She was rather disappointed. If Trow's mother had been there, she certainly would have called Trow back to her at once, for she and Kaikara did not get along. She thought Kaikara was a "bad seed" and Kaikara thought she was a stuffy old Cucco. Far be it that Kaikara were to corrupt her little flower.
Nyree nudged Kaikara in the side, hard. "We were gonna go to the playground," said Nyree. "Do you want to come?"
Kaikara managed to suppress another groan, but Trow looked down at the ground. "I can't," he said. "Papa's just here for a few minutes, then we have to go see the Healer. Mama thinks I'm getting a cold."
"Imagine that," Kaikara muttered, and Nyree elbowed her again. This time it hurt, and she scowled, rubbing her side.
"Well, maybe you can play another day," said Nyree. "You could ask your dad."
Trow looked up, his expression brightening into a wide-mouthed smile. "I will ask him!" he said.
A man's voice sounded, then, and the three young Hylians looked up to see who had called. It was Notak, who was Trow's father. "Time to go, Trow!" he called. "C'mon, my little one!" He smiled warmly, raising a hand to the girls, and Kaikara found herself waving back without really thinking of it. She did not know Notak well, but what she knew, she liked. He was strong and honest, and most importantly, he did not speak down to children. He treated them as equals, even when he admonished them or was telling them not to cause trouble.
Trow gave his simple, but strangely beautiful grin to the two girls and ran off to join his father.
"What'd you do that for?" asked Kaikara a bit crossly as she and Nyree headed for the playground. "I don't want to have to watch him the whole time. He'll trip and fall, and wail that his leg's broken."
Nyree stopped walking (a boy on a pedaled velocipede nearly mowed her down and had to swerve around her) and put her hands on her hips. "You're so mean!" she exclaimed, and Kaikara blinked, surprised, at Nyree's angry tone. Nyree did not often become angry, and she had never yelled at Kaikara, ever!
"I'm not mean!" Kaikara finally sputtered, though she could feel her face getting hot, and she scowled…she hadn't been mean, it was true! It wasn't mean if it was true! Was it?
"You're mean with Trow. He's cute. He just wants to play—no one said you had to baby-sit for him. You could be nice to him you know. I bet he'd love you if you were nice to him."
Kaikara's face was still hot, and she cursed it. Why should she feel ashamed? Was it because her friend was so angry with her? Was it because Trow seemed so much like a baby that she felt she had to baby him, too? She did not want Trow to love her—the idea of him following her all over the place was a tedious one—but she did not say so. Nyree was still giving her a bright and stern look.
Kaikara sighed. "Okay, okay…. I didn't mean to sound like a jerk." She had to quash a scowl, instead managing to turn it to a weak smile.
"You never mean it," said Nyree, still looking cross. But she was not a child who could stay angry for long, and certainly not at her best friend. She sighed, but smiled at the same time, and she grabbed Kaikara's hand. "Oh c'mon. Let's go."
Kaikara said nothing, only let Nyree lead her to the playground, and she spend the time climbing trees and climbing bars, and playing tag with Nyree and a couple of other children who had been there was well. And by the time the sun began to go down and the two of them headed home, Kaikara felt better.
She did wonder that night, as she climbed into bed, if other people thought she was mean. She never meant to be mean—why would they think it? "Pleh," she spat, scowling, and yanked the thin summer blanket over her head. It was really too warm for even that blanket, but she covered herself all the same. She did not get to sleep quickly.
When she did sleep—she dreamt—and her dreams were not nice. She dreamed of fire and war. She dreamed that a great evil hunted her, and that she was about to embark on a journey that she might never return from—a journey that she could not even begin to imagine.
The dream did not wake her, and by the time she had woken to the general excitement of the town, she had forgotten it. But a pall remained on her mind the whole day, a pall that made her pause in her work, looking around, as if something threatened her. Of course she saw nothing, and as the day passed, even this pall faded.
The next few days were busy for Kaikara. The first visitors began to arrive, filling up the three inns, several private homes who offered lodging, and even took u most of the space in the grassy meadows outside of town with their wagons and tents. The Festival preparations were going smoothly, but there was so much to do, and Kaikara worked hard to help get thing done. It all seemed that much better to help, rather than just enjoy the festival. Even now, days before, everyone was excited and happy. The energy and cheerfulness in the air was as much a part of Festival as anything else, and a great part of what gave Kaikara so much enjoyment.
When she was not working (or in some cases pestering the older villagers) she spent her time at the town's playground or in the nearby woods, climbing trees and exploring. She had been taught trailcraft since she was small—her father was a hunter for the village—and she loved exploring more than anything. Her insatiable curiosity was constantly wanting to see new things, new places. She was also scouting out a good place for a treehouse. She and Nyree had been planning to make one now for ages, and Kaikara's father had promised to help out.
Trow never did show up at the playground, and Kaikara was almost disappointed. She wanted a chance to prove she wasn't such a mean person; Nyree's outburst had upset her more than it should have. Kaikara supposed his mother would not let him go alone.
And…Festival crept closer…and closer. And scarcely after it arrived, Kaikara would wish that it never had.
Everyone would wish that.