I don't own these characters and I plan on returning them in relatively decent condition.
This is a collaborated effort between a friend and me. He gave me the idea and I fleshed it out into a story. I'll try to keep it a weekly update.
—Remembering something someone did or "said."—
Link threaded through the crowd with practiced ease. His hands were tucked behind his neck, elbows above his dirty brown head. Towering dirty steel buildings belching steam into the dirty air, the streets a strange mix of cobblestone and grating, gray steam wafting from the cracks, beneath the sturdy brown calf length boots. Steam-powered trains spewing thick clouds of black smoke as they clanked above his head, their tracks suspended hundreds of feet above him as they circled the most modern city of the country, Kakariko.
The long sleeves had been cut from the dark green canvas jacket, the wide sleeves of the tattered white undershirt bunching around biceps. The cuffs of the brown cotton pants tucked into the boots, a durable rope wrapped several times serving for a belt to keep them around his thin waist.
All elbows and knees, the long eared boy had yet to grow into his five foot four frame. Thick, ropey muscles corded the rapidly growing bones and making his weedy appearance deceiving. He looked coltish, cheekbones high and slanting on either side of a long blade of a nose. His wide, cobalt eyes flicked about the crowd restlessly, his mind turning over floor plans of the mansion his grandfather gave him.
Most of his hair was pulled into a short tail at the base of his neck. The greasy forelock dipped in and out of his field of vision. Grandfather often scolded him for allowing his hair to grow to such lengths. The fact that it was uncovered threw the old man into near hysterics every morning.
—"Why won't you just wear a hat? All the young lads are now a days! It'll keep that blasted hair from your face!" Grandpa's quarrelsome voice grumped.—
I'd be damned if I wear a hat. The long ear boy thought, eyes narrowing as he thought about the last argument over the lack of headgear. I don't know why grandpa's so hard bent of me wearing one! Obnoxious things…
"Oi, Hero!"
Link snapped from his thoughts and glanced off to the side at his shuffling grandfather. The tawny eyes blinked up at the taller boy from beneath heavy white brows. A shaggy, snowy beard shrouds most of the dark and wrinkled flesh of the bald man's face. He was a head or two shorter, but was still full of piss and vinegar in spite of his old age. Link still had a few sore spots from the bout of training the day before.
I'll never get him to stop calling me that. Who calls a thief 'Hero?' Link groused, full lips twisting into a slight smile. "What, Gramps?"
"What do you mean, 'what?' You can' think I can climb those stairs meself!" Grandpa scowled good-naturedly up at Link, pinching the exposed skin playfully. "Be a hero and give an old man a lift!"
They slipped onto the side street, out of the way of the noisy steam buggies as they chugged along. A sharp right and they would be at a set of grated stairs leading up the Impa Quarter, where all the wealthy aristocrats lived above the Mido District where the deafening, crowded market sprawled. There was a cableway that would make the trip faster and less of a hassle, but records were kept and the price was steep.
Two thieves barely making ends meat didn't have a rupee to spare for such frivolity.
"Come on, old man. I'll help ya out." The blue-eyed boy grinned, white teeth flashing as he knelt down.
"Not old…I'm seasoned." Gramps grumbled and clamored onto the back, wincing as his sore, stiff body protested. His thin arms wrapped around the neck, face pressed beside a pointed ear as Link supported him as he stood slowly.
The gangly lad began the long, weary trek up the stairs, brows drawn together. Gramps was light, so no problem there. It was distressing how frail and thin his only kin had become.
It's cause he's always giving me his share of the meal. No matter what I do, he insists I eat it. Wants me strong…but what would I do without him? He finds all the targets and sets up the hits…
"Go for tha' lonely Mayor's Mansion up there, Hero."
"Cripes, Gramps. I haven't even topped the stairs!" He puffed in exasperation, throwing a look of agitation at the old man.
"I'm not done!" Link earned an annoyed rap on the bare head for the impudence, huffing softly before he continued in low, crackled voice. "Be patient! I need ya to get tha stone that's part of that lovely picture, remember that! It's on the top floor in the reception area. An emerald, you should be tickled ta hear. You're partial to green, right Hero?"
The old man cackled and Link sighed tolerably at the affable jab. He loved his grandfather, but the man seemed to be unusually amused at some of the most commonplace things that Link enjoyed. Be it his favorite color, helpful nature, ease with swords (a noble's weapon, according to the old man), or distaste for headgear.
"Yes, Gramps." Link told the guffawing man. "How big is it?"
"The size of your fist!" He exclaimed softly before holding up his old knobby fist for example. "After we see how the guards are set up, you'll let me go and I'll head back to the flat. It's not so unusual for us common folk to take a gander at thems rich folk!"
Link smirked, blue eyes glittering at the sarcastic lilt to the old man's voice. His grandfather had told him of the Hyrule of old.
—"The old families here, or whatever they call themselves, they don't even come this country originally! You see, after the old royal line died out, outsiders began to invade. You can tell how 'pure' a family is by their ears!" The old man pointed to his own long, pointed shell in illustration and then to Link's. "We come from a magical race, you and I! Blessed by the Gods! I only wish your mother and father hadn't lost their lives in the Steam Riots those years ago."
Gramps faded off for a moment, yellow eyes glazing, as memories seemed to overwhelm him. Link made a non-committal noise and continued to put the lock picks in order inside the leather pouches. He'd heard the story of Hyrule so many times he could recite it in his sleep.—
Even if we are Hylian, Hyrulian or whatever Gramps claims, no one else seems to know what the hell I'm talking about when I mention it. No prosperous land over a thousand years gone or why some people have a point to their ears. Old man is going daft.
Link labored until he reached the top of the stairs. Twilight glowed across the sky, a sickly orange, yellow, red tinged with grey smut. There was no navy tapestry laced with stars to take its place. No, it was thick covering of dirty clouds that blotted out the moon and stars. The oily lights of the city made the natural light of the night impossible to see.
The blue-eyed thief settled his Gramps onto a bench, leaning back to stretch his tired back. The greenery here was fenced and somewhat forced looking, but plentiful. The brick and masonry was white, sculpted beauty. The road was packed with glittering white gravel, for no steam machine was allowed to ride along the paths. The mayor lived in something close to a palace, soaring over the rest of the mansions with two towers (more like watch towers and observatories) and pillars.
Gaudy. Link scoffed, wiping the sweat from his brow. That money could do some good down there instead of allowing a fat prick live in luxury.
He dropped onto the ornate, white metal bench beside his grandfather, letting his head fall back to rest against the cold metal. The quiet rustle beside him gave away Gramps pulling out the soft cheese that he could gum, due to the few teeth he had left, to pieces before swallowing. Taking the sign for what it was and ignoring the titters from various rich passersby, Link sat up.
Darkness fell and the thief wrapped the leather cuff with the lock picks around each wrist. A thick, lead core baton was along his spine, hidden from view by his grandfather's body. He'd pull it from his canvas jacket when he was inside the Mayor's place. He tugged the sleeves over his wrist guards/pick pouch and adjusted the hidden slingshot tucked in his makeshift belt under the green canvas. He leaned down to adjust his boots, scooping up a handful of rocks in the process and filling his pockets.
Link stood and took a deep breathe before giving his Gramps a lopsided grin. "Be careful on the way home. I'll be quick."
The old man paused, yellow eyes gaining an unnatural light for a moment. The thief felt something stir in the air between them and he tried to identify it. Worry? Hope?
"Be careful, Link." Gramps finally muttered, turning his attention back towards the cheese. "This world needs a hero like you."
"Ma-na. The world did fine before me and it'll be fine after me." The blue-eyed boy replied dismissively, walking towards the feeble trees that sprouted in the area around the Mayor's Palace gates.
The sentries looked bored in their dark gray fatigues, the heavy energy packs weighing on their shoulders. Long hoses sprung from the packs, attaching to the nozzles to spray anything from cement foam to fire gel to piercing jets of steam.
Link swung into the trees easily, knowing his Gramps would have kept talking if there were someone to see. He pulled out his cuff and unwrapped the patterned sash from his leg. It wrapped around his face until only the dark locks and blue eyes were visible. He flitted from tree to tree; careful to make sure the guard's attention was elsewhere before he sprang forward. He rolled from the last limb and into the bushes, keeping his frame small as a man crunched by, yawning.
It was tricky business from then out. When he needed attention diverted, he fired one of the stones against the expensive statues or in the fountains, anything that would make a noise. He had to slip in and out of bushes until they ran out and then time the dashes across the clear paths until he slipped around the palace.
"Huh?"
The new voice should have made the thief freeze, but he clamored up the trellis at his back as the footsteps neared his hiding place. He scurried up until he was above eye level and found himself staring into eight eyes of a nasty spider the size of a dinner plate.
The nasty arachnids were a side effect of all the pollution from the city. There were a number more of the nasty beasties twisted by human tampering. Most stuck to the Lower Levels, where no one had the Rupee to afford someone to exterminate them.
Link hated them with a passion.
Strangely enough, the Walltula didn't attack, but the standoff continued as the guard kicked along the bushes where Link had been settled before. A string of curses announced the guard's lack of interest as he trudged back towards his post.
Link nervously backed down the trellis, careful not to grab the thorny vine that roosted there.
They're even at Impa Quarter. The blue-eyed thief thought in disgust. Someone isn't doing his job.
He pulled the rope from his waist, revealing a thick rawhide belt beneath it. He coiled the six-foot rope and looped it over his shoulder, shoving the baton in the belt. Out came the slingshot and the wary boy loaded a stone into the leather catch.
Crouching, Link shuffled down the edge of the house, the slingshot pointed towards the ground and ready to fire. He peeked around the corner of the palace, not surprised to see a guard slowly walking away. The balcony that overlooked Kakariko and the astonishing view of the Capital Building overshadowed by Darunia Mountain. If his memory served, then the second floor balcony would give the most direct route to the third floor reception area.
The Mayor's residence was like a maze. The first floor was mostly historical documents and museum-like displays. Living quarters were the second floor in the East Tower. The offices and 'public' room were on the West Tower, including said balcony that led into the mayor's official office.
The third floor was primarily for entertainment and hosting. There were balconies there, also, but beyond Link's ability to scale and not be noticed. There were three ballrooms and the reception area. There were two ways, not including the ballrooms, to enter the area. One was a servant's stair that had a secret entrance from the first floor and the other was the grand staircase. It was situated on the opposing side of the building and had a balcony on the second story, also.
Link rolled into the bushes across from the balcony, crouched low and examining the trellis that clung to the wall. Poor, dark blue ivy clung to the latticework. The thief could just barely make out the Walltula and Skullwalltula in the weak orange glow from the city below. He raised the slingshot and took careful aim.
The bit of gravel was released and flew true, slamming into the spider. It died in a crackling groan, dropping to ashes and smoke before it reached the ground. The remaining beasties followed in quick succession unbeknownst to the inattentive guards. Link jammed the slingshot back into his belt, fingering the remaining stones for a quick count. Satisfied, the blue-eyed boy scurried across the gap and began to quickly crawl up the framework, boot toes barely making a sound against the rough brick wall.
He reached the balcony in a few breaths, clamoring over the marble ledge and landing nimbly on the floor. Link fingered all of the large glass-paned doors that he could, checking from alarms. The wooden desk (all wood, mind you. Quite lavish in Link's opinion…wood was so scarce, why bother with a desk of it? So wasteful.) loomed in the darkness. Two flags, country and city, flanked the veranda doors.
No wires on the door handles. Link judged. No trips on the other side. Talk about relying too much on human perception. Then again, who but me would be fool enough to sneak into the Mayor's building?
He studied the keyhole before tugging out the picks. It was disappointedly simple lock and he flicked it open in a sneeze. He opened the door just enough to slip through, closing it with a quiet click. Thick rugs designed with the Kakariko Seal covered the cold marble floor. Link could barely make out the sculpted work in the corners as he silently crept to the double wooden doors.
A few moments to ensure vacancy on the other side before he opened the door and slid through. Four conventional steel desks in two rows where the secretaries most likely worked. He tread to the door that should lead out into the hallway, taking time to guarantee the emptiness, quickly entering the long corridor and trotting over the thick rugs to the sprawling staircase to the third floor.
Easiest hit, ever. The teen snickered.
Faint light filtered up from the stairway, throwing pathetic shadows in the small vestibule. Vases filled with fake plants flanked the landing, abstract paintings covering the wall that only had one door that led to the reception area. The wooden door had an ornate brass handle that was chilly to the thief's touch. He opened the door slowly, surprised when the hinges didn't creak.
A rectangle of illumination basked the reception room's heavily carpeted floor. He closed the door with a soft snick, blinking in the encompassing darkness. He dragged a hand over wall; feeling for the switch he knew had to be somewhere. His questing fingers met the heavy switch and clicked it on. He kept his eyes closed to keep from being blinded from the sudden hum and onslaught of light.
He blinked them open slowly, his jaw dropping at the mural scrolling across the walls. His mind registered two tables beside the two sets of double doors leading to the ballrooms. The servant's stair and third ballroom entrance nowhere to be seen. Couches and love seats lined every wall except the back one. A small table with a thick book on top, surrounded by sturdy chairs was beneath the chandelier in the center of the room.
A suited knight stood guard before the large tree depicted, a heavy axe held in the gauntlets before it. Vines were stylized over the silver steel, the vague impression of a spread eagle design in gold, a green horsetail plume sticking from the full-face helm.
The yellow tinted light spilled from an elaborate chandelier with large bulbs. The dingy illumination did nothing to take away from the stunning beauty before him. The tree's image took his breath away and teased memories he never knew existed into life.
The vaulted ceiling had the metal rafters etched and shaped to resemble thick limbs and vines. A forest in deep greens, blues and browns came to life all around him. He could almost hear the melody of an ocarina floating through the air. Children's giggles rushed into his long ears, images overlaying the mural. The large tree that dominated the wall towered over him in his mind. The many facetted emerald glittered harshly in the light and invaded his memories easily.
A faint voice speaking in an unknown tongue brushed against his ear.
The shimmer of fairy wings before his vision, welcomed and unexpected.
Sorrowful eyes the color of the sky pleading silently.
The weight of a blade and shield on his back, comforting him like an old friend and ominous at the same time.
Invisible winds rustling unseen leaves, the creaking of old wood and the smell of death cloying in his nostrils.
—"HEY!"—
Link's eyelids fluttered for a moment and he jerked from the reverie. The memories slipped from his mind like sand, never to be recovered. He scratched his oily, dark hair thoughtfully, wondering if he'd finally lost his mind. He walked to the tall armor and pushed it lightly.
It was too sturdy and resisted the thief's push, almost as if it were being worn. Link backed away warily, watching the suit. He pressed his hand against the decorated breastplate. It was chilly to the touch. A tap gave an echo, further proof of emptiness.
"Well, ally-oop!" Link murmured cheerfully, easily scaling the armor to reach for the emerald embedded in the marble wall. He braced a foot on each shoulder and reached high, fingers brushing the cool stone.
Jade light flared from the many facets, blinding the blue-eyed boy. His right foot shifted slightly and he frowned, glancing down. No, his footing was fine. He turned his watering eyes back towards the jewel and tried to work it from the wall.
Another shift and sweat beaded on the thief's forehead as he suddenly realized that all was not well. The boy froze completely, breaths coming in harsh gasps as fear found a nice home in his chest. Grinding and scraping sounds erupted into the stillness a heartbeat before cold grip ensnared his ankle and his body suddenly jerked, sent flying. He reached out wildly, catching the chandelier with his left hand and jerked his arm from the socket.
"GAH!" He fell heavily to the floor, clutching his arm and hissing in pain. He grabbed his limp arm, stumbling to his feet and backing up as pain radiated from the useless limb. "Holy HELL!"
The armor clanked and groaned as it raised the axe, the helm turning to watch him as he shuffled until his back hit the wall. He reached out and grabbed the door handle to his right, dismayed to find it locked. The armor took steady steps towards him, slightly hunched over with the heavy axe in a careless, two handed grip.
Whimpering and sweating, the thief slid into the corner. His mind jump-started and he slammed his arm back into the socket roughly. Instant relief washed over the gangly boy and he grabbed the lead core baton with his uninjured hand.
"Bastard!" He growled, circling around the suit.
A downward swing and Link dashed in through the opening in the guard, jumping high and bashing the helm horizontally. It was a sound hit, the helm easily knocked from its post and slamming against the wall with a ringing crash. The thief landed nimbly and paled in numb terror.
A chain mail hood was under it, still in place and very much empty.
The suit made an annoyed groan, swinging its left arm and sending Link into the wall.
His left shoulder protested madly from the whack and Link blacked out as he crashed into the stone barrier, jarring his only good shoulder. Bouncing away, he landed unceremoniously on the floor. He groaned, vision slowly returning as he pushed his torso up with his good hand. The vivid carpet under him blurred and seemed to have inverted colors for a moment. Hearing returned next, the heavy thuds and clanging footsteps coming as if from a tunnel.
He stood up and struggled back just as the axe landed heavily where he'd just been laying. It bit through the carpet and he could hear it chip the stone floor. The long-eared boy clambered to his feet, circling around the struggling armor. He jammed the baton into the shoulder joint and levered the left arm from the socket.
It clattered to the floor as the axe was freed, the armor stumbling back a few steps. Link danced backwards, heart pounding wildly at the lack of flesh beneath the steel.
Hell and Damnation! What in God's name is this thing? How do you kill something that can't be hurt? Link ducked a wild swing, flipping backwards and out of reach.
The armor followed, swaying with the momentum of its attacks. Link dodged and danced about the armor, trying to find an opening. He couldn't parry such a heavy weapon and steel didn't have the same weaknesses as flesh. He grabbed the sturdy chairs and began to chuck them wildly. The thick volume followed and another chair. He even threw his rope in desperation.
The armored suit batted the objects away, slashing them in the process. The rope was rendered useless from the axe blow. Link was toeing the line of panic when his hand grasped something cold and hard. He lobbed it carelessly, astonished as the emerald made a hasty path towards the suit.
"NOOO!" Link reached after it mindlessly, eyes wide with alarm.
The armor suit seemed shocked also, for it tried to jerk away from the soaring jewel.
The green stone collided into the suit's chest, blazing brightly as a metallic shriek ripped through the air. Link squeezed the blue eyes shut, screaming in tandem as he jammed his fingers into the aching ears. Pain flared and blood flew as the armor exploded and bits of metal ripped through his clothes and dug into flesh.
He uncurled quickly; ready to dodge the next blow when he realized that the armor had blown apart. The axe was fixed in the wall about an inch from where he'd been cowering. Eyes wide and chest heaving, his gaze jerked about wildly and saw the entire room was in shambles. Metal shards were fixed into anyplace they landed. Couches were shredded and crumpled heaps. The mural was trashed completely.
Link scrambled up shakily, fretting over what condition the emerald would be in.
Gramps'll kill me if that damn stone is in pieces! He thought giddily, his mind skittering away from the obvious problem of the racket he and the suit of armor made.
The blue-eyed thief was startled to see the jewel in one piece and just as shiny as ever. He snatched the stone from the cratered breastplate, body beginning to tremble with pain and anxiety, as the shouts grew louder from the main staircase.
Need to get out! His mind screamed and he slammed into the wall where the servant's stair would be. If he tried the two ballrooms, he could be trapped. He didn't think he could get down without drawing attention to himself and the rope was now in pieces thanks to his panicked actions. He'd shoved the worthless line in his pockets, not wanting to leave anything behind.
—"Tha only calling card a thief should leave behin' iza empty chest, Hero! Never leave anythin' that can be tracked to you later! Yer not in this for tha glory, but the treasure!"—
He knocked the wall furiously with the baton until he heard an echo; his fingers traced the outline of the door through the mural's backing. He tucked the baton into his belt and pulled out a thick lock pick, slicing through the parchment and paint until he mapped the door edge. The door yielded to his furious kicks and he hustled through and slammed it shut.
Darkness swallowed Link and he scuttled down the stairs, not bothering to try to hide the noise. Dust covered everything thickly. The air seemed coated with it. He could feel it gritty and dense as his fingers trailed along to wall to keep track of his position. He could hear the pounding of footsteps echoing on the other side of the wall. Shouts to call everyone to the third floor reverberating.
He reached the first landing and jolted to a stop, not having realized there were no more steps. The hands caught the battered body before it slammed against the wall. His hand felt two handles, but neither door opened. He forced deep breathes through the scarf covering his face, grateful that the clothe filtered the air.
Link kicked the door that let to the outside open, his rising hysteria lending him strength. He wasn't surprised to see the entire courtyard empty and dashed through the yard without a second thought. He needed to get away and FAST.
Link stumbled into the flat two hours later, exhausted and soaked. His temper had not faired well in the merry chase he'd led the pursuing Provost's Guard. They'd used hounds to follow his scent, so into the disgusting sludge of the artificial river in response.
Out of the sludge and into the street, he'd broken one persistent hound's neck. He'd circled the lower levels of Eastern Talon Ward and Western Rauru Ward, using the maze of pipes to aid his escape. Scents did not stick well to the mixed metal pipes and hallow grated catwalks and decks. Sadly, he'd also acquired a few burns for his troubles.
No one attempted to halt his progress; mostly because it was obvious he was from the Lower Levels, but they did hassle the Provost's Guards. He was also covered in god knew what and probably carrying the plague. It was also thanks to the mire that no one could be sure of his identity.
He'd stopped off at a spigot and rinsed the nastiness away, using a sliver of soap someone had left behind and stripping to his loincloth. It'd been a pain to clean the crap from his clothes, but he didn't want too much evidence left when he traveled back to Ruto Twists, where his flat was situated.
He just wanted to fall into his pallet and die. The emerald weighed a ton in his pocket and he'd been paranoid traveling in the lower levels, no matter how necessary it'd been. The thief'd been lucky not to stumble on any twisted bits of nature.
What he hadn't been expecting was his Gramps settled by the steam furnace with cheese, stale bread and bits of tough meat. The old man looked perfectly content, his twisted aluminum cane at his side and a cracked, steaming cup in his withered hands.
"How the HELL did you get back before me?" Link burst out, the usually controllable temper flaring past his control at the sight. It'd taken three hours for them to get to Impa Quarter and Gramps had Link to carry him through most of it. It should have taken just about as long for him to return by his lonesome.
"Cableway and Trolley." The old man pointed out with a wicked gleam, taking a careful sip from his cup.
The teen trembled with indignation. He'd been crawling like a gutter leech through SLUDGE and his Gramps had used what little Rupees they had for his comfort. Digging the emerald from his pocket, he pitched the jewel at the old man. He wasn't surprised at the perfect one-hand catch Gramps executed.
"Hora, hora! Someone's in a tiff!" The old man teased, giving a gap-toothed grin and setting his cup on the floor s he could hold the stone in both hands.
"That costs Rupees, Gramps! There weren't any pots in that damn mansion, so how the Hell am I supposed to make up for what you used?!" Link chastised, voice low so he couldn't be heard through the walls, but still intense.
"Go cut some grass with your sword, Hero." He flapped a hand dismissively.
"There is NO grass and I don't have a sword, senile git!" The boy snapped, fists on his hips.
Gramps just cackled in response.
"Why didn't you tell me that some creepy suit of armor would attack me?" He demanded angrily. "You know about a stair that hasn't been used in YEARS and don't know about magical armor?"
"There wuz someone in armor waiting?" The old man sounded perplexed.
"No! There was no one in it!" He clarified.
"Crackbrained. How could it move withou' someone in it?" A fuzzy brow cocked in question, tone disbelieving.
"How the Hell should I know!?" Link demanded and flopped onto the floor beside the heater. He just wanted to dry out.
"How didja beat it?" Gramps asked, sounding indulgent. When the teen huffed in annoyance, he leaned close to the youthful face tainted with brown dye from the various dips he'd been submitted to. The dark hair had a subtle honey glow in the weak light.
"What?" The blue-eyed thief snapped at the inspection, leaning back.
"Ya don' look crazy. I guess ya can' tell by just looks." The old man mused aloud, looked entertained by the indignant growl from the younger boy. "Grab tha cloak behind you n' hand it here, there's a Hero."
When the teen twisted around a sharp rap on his skull made him jerk around and snarl. Gramps stared at the cane in his hand in mute shock.
"You're right, Hero! It just jumped right up and started to pound on ya! Magic exists and it's out to get YOU!" A knobby finger trembled as he pointed it at the blue-eyed teen, eyes wide and wild.
Link scowled.
Gramps cackled madly and slapped his knee with his free hand.
"Look! I got pro— " He started, but stopped. The deep gouges from the metal shards were gone. There was a slight ashy residue in some of the profound wounds, but clean otherwise. Maybe he was just losing his mind.
Magic didn't exist. It was all slight of hand and puppetry. No, no. He'd been imagining things. There must have been someone in the suit. How else would the chain mail have remained formed? He'd just been too engrossed to notice.
"Regardless!" He switched tactics, his injuries exploding into life now that he was safe. "I need a few weeks to heal. My shoulder was dislocated."
"Poor Hero." The old man tutted softly, taking a slow sip. The emerald was now in his lap. Link couldn't help but wonder where the hell they were going to keep it. It was a noisy thing and would gain them unwanted attention.
"What'll we do with that?" He didn't fight his brows from creasing with worry.
"There're two more, like I said. They'll open up tha greatest treasure known when we've gathered them all." The old man murmured, fingers caressing the jewel as if it were a cat.
"We'll need food while I rest." He pointed out bluntly, lying back as his body began to throb. Everything was just too much right now. He needed sleep.
"We're stocked up. Stop worrying so uselessly. Ya act as if I'm the child. Relax, Link. I got everything worked out."
A/N: There you have it. Feel free to review, but no flaming unless it's constructive towards making the Fic better.