The Firly Manor Chronicles
-A Collection of Short Stories-
The House
Link's clothes spoke for him when an auctioneer asked if he wanted to buy the house beyond the bridge. The man's green gaze fell from Link's eyes and gravitated to his torso, which had him remember the grass stains and the blackened crispy ends that made his blue tunic look like rotten food. For a moment, he felt the week's grime on his skin and the taste of that muddy field he ate when dodging a bokoblin's sword. Shaking his head, he excused the feeling and the man-who was alarmingly short for someone in heeled boots and a wide brim hat.
"You a traveler?" He asked, eyes wide. Link nodded, pushed himself out of the conversation-better to avoid questions-and headed for the lab on top of Hateno hill. Recently, the sheikah slate developed a problem of glitching on its bomb timing and after one exploded a little too close to his face, he had figured to get it fixed.
The lab on his mind, Link made his way to the village center, which was busier than ever. Perhaps market day? Vendors were outside their shops. Children-maybe brothers and sisters by the look of their uniform red hair-were up to their noses in flowers, selling bouquets to people walking by. Dogs, running between the legs of townsfolk and a poor milkmaid holding up a pitcher, darted for the butchers who were carrying plates to and from stalls set up along the main square. "Beef Flanks! Get 'em hot! Roast Duck!" To the side, a poorly-placed cow with a silly red bow mooed indifferently, tolerating the young curly-blond child who embraced his chest. His mom was pulling him from it. Link found himself smiling at the scene, though wondered in the next second if he should find another way around. It would only be an hour's walk to the lab and going around would make it longer, but the stares from some ladies outside the Dye Shop made him consider it. He found himself all the more anxious for Purah and Symin's company where there was a lot to listen to and little pressure to say anything. Maybe they would offer him a shower though he did not want to assume or impose.
To the people of Hateno, which acquainted Link upon his first arrival weeks before, travelers and nomads were rare to see, let alone befriend before they got the ax from a gang of monsters. Instead, most of Hylians-well, the Hylians that remained-clung to towns. According to a book Link found in a bookshelf belonging to a researcher outside Fort Hateno, Hyrule once consisted of ten major towns and twenty other settlements. Now, there were only two and both-Hateno and Lurelin-barely qualified as towns. Those who traversed between the two towns and to the regions beyond-the travelers and the nomads-never lasted long. When Link had first come to Hateno, he had met a beggar woman waiting for her son to come home from Hyrule fields. With some hot tea, she had coaxed Link into sitting with her for a few minutes on her Hateno-teal blanket by the village's entrance. She mused over stories while the steam of the tea snakes around her face; her sharp tan cheeks pulled into a smile; she insisted that he, her son, would be back any day now. Apparently, it had been five years since he had left. He had only heard this from a bystander.
A long line of villagers trailing livestock and luxury goods spiraled out from the wooden deck of the local inn where the auctioneer now stood, setting up a display board of the house. "Come on up folks and look! Behold the Firly Manor!" He shot a finger at a giggling couple arm and arm."Lovebirds! How about buying a house?" They laughed. Apparently, the town had been trying to sell this house for two years, but to no avail. Link found himself listening, but their bantering soon fell away with the shouting of vendors, some laughter from somewhere off, and the banging of pots, pans, and other wares for sale.
The auctioneer presented the display-oh, it was that house. He had seen it time to time during his visits. The illustration was spot on; he found himself eyeing it. Then, he was thinking about living in a place long enough to develop of routine of sitting by the fire every night. Was that a garden out front with a shelter for firewood? He wondered how long it could take to turn it into a stable and maybe supply it with hay. Behind it there was a pond and grand oak tree. He thought about the bark on his bare back, laying up against it while untying his boots. What if he put his feet in the water? Could he take time to enjoy the rustling of crickets around him? What about sitting in a room of still, undisturbed air?
"Ah! Traveler!" Called the auctioneer from his post. Link pinned his eyes to the ground, pretending his fantasies were not his own, and turned to make his way out of the crowd, but another disinterested cow stood in his way and its hauler was specially unaware. Bidding started low- "one thousand rupees!"-so low. It made him weak-really? That was quite cheap. Then, he felt eager like a boy who felt brave enough to cliff jump for the first time. He could leap right in if he wanted to. But-and there were many buts-what would a traveler-him of all travelers-need a house for? Could he really buy it? Could he really dive? The auctioneer bated him, "do I hear a fifteen hundred?" His mind focused on the logical-the house would sit frozen with all the responsibilities: the princess, the kingdom, the calamity. Crazy-he could not do it. Yet, the mysterious but slow-crawling, shy, and sheepish want of a place among families and homesteads deepened in him like a rock sinking in the river.
"Two thousand," called a man from the back. Thick went the want; solid inside of him. He shook his head as a last protest, but the wind picked up like a tease and he succumbed to a powerful desire for a place that was not blowing hair in the eyes. "Going once?" The heat of the fleeting moment, racing like a horse on fire, fried out any remaining reluctance. The ax was coming down, but Link's hand rose for it and all stared at him in the middle.
"What do you say traveler?"
Edit 02-19-19