The Weeping Man

by eolianstar

Zelda: Ocarina of Time © Nintendo

lacrimosa dies illa

qua resurget ex favilla

judicandus homo reus.

- o -

Impa woke to Sheik shaking her shoulder, his single eye gazing at her with eternal composure. She sat upright in the darkness, all of her joints screaming, her skin prickling beneath her thin blue armor. Her head felt stuffy, as if it were filled with cotton.

"What time is it?" she asked, struggling to conceal the discomfort in her voice. She coughed, and her chest hurt.

"A little past midnight," her companion said, his voice muffled behind his mask. Impa was a little embarrassed, because she knew he had intentionally let her sleep longer than they had agreed. She did not want to think about how long it probably took him to successfully wake her. For a Sheikah to be such a heavy sleeper, even while ill… all she could do was be a hindrance to him. She sucked in the cold night air, trying to keep herself from coughing once again.

Sheik parted her silvery hair and touched her forehead with the palm of his hand. Though his fingers were bandaged, she could feel the coolness of the exposed skin that brushed against hers. She closed her eyes momentarily to savor the feeling.

"You're still running a fever," Sheik said, but did not remove his hand, as if he knew that it was a comfort to her. "It would be better for you to sleep longer."

"Nonsense," Impa said, allowing herself to smile weakly as she put both hands on his and pushed it away from her forehead. "We've a mission to complete. You don't think a silly cold is going to hinder me, do you? We must hurry if we want to reach Hyrule Castle before daybreak."

Her friend said nothing in response, and she swept the cloak she had been sleeping on off of the ground and pinned it with the scarlet eye brooch at her neck. When she made sure all of her things were in tact, she gave Sheik a quick nod, and they were off.

He ran ahead of her. Despite being masked, he was fast and dodged through the foliage and branches with ease. Impa was used to seeing his back, as he often took the initiative to go before her. Dear Sheik, she knew him too well. Since she had met him, he was always attempting to protect her in a subtle manner. But she had noticed when he purposefully walked at her left when they traveled the roads or moved ahead of her in the training ground's obstacle courses. Perhaps all of Kakariko, too, knew of his kind and humbly chivalrous ways.

That was why her own mission was so unthinkable. She lowered her head so that her nose and mouth were covered by the high collar of her cloak. Impa was glad that she was sick, although she felt awful every time she awoke. It was a good cover for the uneasiness she felt, so that if Sheik were able to sense her anxiety or fear, he might suspect it was due to her physical state.

Yes, she knew very well what she had to do, though she did not yet know why.

But her father promised her that she would understand. That she was permitted to remove his mask once their mission was complete.

One way or another, he had told her, Sheik must die. And if Impa were as faithful to the Royal Family as all her clan was, he said, then it would be by her hand that he would die.

- o -

Impa met Sheik when she was a girl. She was born in a time after the Great Division of the Sheikah, when the village of Kakariko was still young and her people experienced peace with all the rest of Hyrule. Before the war, her childhood was a happy one, even if it could be described as ordinary. She immediately began her training as a Sheikah warrior, assisted her parents with chores around the house and was constantly scolded by her mother for playing in the Graveyard.

"If you play in that graveyard again, Impa," her mother would say as the daughter stood before her guiltily, "The Enemy will snatch you up from the middle of the night and carry you away. You hear me?"

At that time, Impa didn't understand the weight of that word. She just knew that the Enemy were to be hated for their treachery, that they were a twisted and sinister people, although they too, were Sheikah, the other shadows of Hyrule. They had abandoned their loyalty to the crown, and had committed some sin against the divine. Or so she had been told.

But despite all her mother's threats, she often found herself walking through the graveyard, humming some ancient tune while listening to the ghosts that tread there. Impa was strangely in tune with the dead, and instead of being afraid, she felt as though she were among friends who were peacefully resting. When she was a little older, she became more reverent and tread the grounds with a pious heart. It was around this time that she met him.

He was brought into the village by her father, severely wounded and covered in her father's large cloak. She only caught a glimpse of his dark face and bandaged body before her parents whisked him away. Her mother nursed the boy back to health in the small house at the center of the village. It had been left empty after a family of three died of illness the previous year. Impa remembered how her father had given the tribe strict orders to never enter the house, on account that he was extremely weak and could not be overly excited.

"Where does he come from, father?"

"His tribe was killed by the Enemy. We rescued him on our way back from Hyrule Castle, for they had left him for dead. Take care of him, Impa."

When Sheik was healthy enough to stand and walk, he was always seen wearing a full-face mask with the Sheikah eye painted on it. Her father and mother said that he had terrible scars over his face and that it had grotesquely disfigured it. Aside from the two of them, nobody else had ever seen his face, even Impa. And she never asked, it seemed that Sheik was extremely sensitive about the matter. It also appeared that the boy had a weak heart, and was often seen clutching his chest, as if in pain. Her parents gave him the house to live in, and he was there by himself. But Impa saw that he was never along, because she went to see him every day since the moment she first met him.

She remembered that moment very vividly. The image of the boy in the white and scarlet mask was forever impressed in her memory. His arm was in a sling as he sat upon his bed. That day her mother had sent her over with a basket of fruits and cheese so that she could finally meet the stranger that would eventually a become her best friend. When she set it on the table, he did not make any move to retrieve it to eat.

"Aren't you hungry?" she had asked him, knowing that he hadn't eaten all that morning.

He was silent, as if he were trying to think of what to say. Then she realized and shot up to her feet, in a hurry to leave so that he could have his privacy.

The first day he ever spoke to her was also the first of many times that she would see him cry. Ordinarily, in her assertive and tomboyish way, she would reprimand the boys who cried when they were harshly scolded or injured during the practices. Men should never cry. And yet, that day when she arrived at Sheik's house carrying a basket of his daily provisions, she saw so clearly how he sat by his window, his masked face gazing outside, the cold white light showering him.

There was an unmistakable glimmer from under his mask that fell from his chin in drops like crystals. Each tear hit the hands clasped in his lap, but he was unmoving and utterly silent as he wept. And in that moment, she thought that it seemed so poetic for a boy to cry.

When he turned his head toward her, his front side still glowing from the light of the window, she froze at the sight of another tear glowing as it fell and splashed onto his clothes. His voice followed, controlled and unashamed.

"Impa… you're here. I'm glad."

And she smiled back at him.

"Good morning, Sheik."

- o -

When the princess had asked her for her own history, Impa was first compelled to give her the textbook summary of the civil war that had wiped out her entire race. But when the girl locked onto her gaze with those impossibly blue eyes, Impa felt that the princess herself had the authority to demand Truth.

So the Sheikah woman smiled broadly, stirring old, precious memories.

"When I was your age, I had a friend who was so very dear to me..."

- o -

They found a crushed Gossip stone in the glade, the shards barely recognizable as the Sheikah emblem. Sheik knelt down close to where it had been dashed, and Impa joined him, seeing if there was any trace of information left in the remains.

Even for Sheik, there were no words. The Enemy had destroyed it completely.

Impa's chest burned as she held in her cough, but it reached the point when she couldn't hold it in. Her coughs were deeper and drier, and her headache was starting to return. She took a drink from the stream nearby to soothe her burning throat and splashed water onto her face.

"They're moving towards Hyrule Castle, like Father thought," Impa said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "They're going to try to find the Sacred Realm… I didn't imagine that it would be so soon, they-" She stopped mid-sentence. Sheik followed her silence and stood nearby as she reached into her cloak and opened the black leather pouch on her belt.

Her fingers grasped the shell of the deku nut with precision and she threw it with such speed and force it might have been able to crack open from the force of the air resistance alone. Instead, it weathered through and fell through the windows of the leaves in the brush before bursting.

A cry immediately followed, and she assumed a fighting position as two figures, exposed from their hiding places, jumped out from the spot. Sheik drew his dagger and its metallic song hung in the air as he made contact with one of the attackers first. Impa momentarily diverted her attention away from his fight to focus on her own engagement.

Impa caught her opponent's blade on her metal gauntlet, feeling the rattling vibrations against her forearm. From this close she could see the man's face and his Sheikah markings, which immediately identified him as one of the Enemy. A thin crimson line, like a single streaking tear, was tattooed down each of his equally crimson eyes. She shoved him off and unsheathed her own dagger, striking swiftly after its release, while keeping an eye on the second enemy who was locking blades with Sheik. As she struck at her opponent, she stepped forward, leaving one side completely exposed if he were to dodge her attack.

Which he did with ease, and he moved in for the bait, bringing his weapon towards the space between her armor and cloak.

But he struck only air as his blade fell through what only seemed to be the soft flesh below her collarbone. The momentum from his attack caused him to fall forward as her image promptly disappeared, and he caught his balance, only to have an incredible, yet swift pain enter his back. He fell dead at her feet, and she instead was standing directly behind him instead, pulling her dagger out and flicking it to remove the excess blood. Immediately she turned around and repeated the motion with Sheik's assailant, who also crumpled, not knowing what had hit him. She did it with a stone-cold face, having been hardened by the many more she had killed before them, even if they were brethren.

"Thank you," she said to Sheik, who had cast the illusory spell of her to distract her opponent. This sort of expertly handled cooperation had dramatically reduced the time that these sorts of skirmishes would normally have taken. It was this swiftness and deadliness that had deemed them worthy of the task that they had been appointed, and it was for that very purpose that they hurried along towards Hyrule Castle.

Impa leaned on her knees, bent over, still holding the dagger with its fresh blood dripping off its point. She breathed harsh, ragged breaths, and the cool night air felt like ice through her nostrils, sharp against her throat. Her headache had fully returned, her cheeks red and hot.

"A fine time to be sick," she muttered to herself, wiping her brow and straightening before Sheik could be too concerned for her. "I'm fine, I just was a little winded," she assured him, her face hard so as to assert this claim.

"Be more gentle with yourself." His tone was commanding, and it irked her somewhat. "I'll take care of the future fights, so don't overexert yourself."

She said nothing to this, because though her pride rubbed her the wrong way, her rational mind concluded that she was grateful for his support. Instead, she wiped off her blade and sheathed it, and took calm steps towards the direction of Hyrule Castle.

"Let's go."

- o -

After he had been rescued and carried into Kakariko village, Sheik recovered from his injuries quickly and regained all the motor skills required to train alongside the other children. The mask was unnerving to the other villagers, but Impa knew immediately that he was very special. Her father also said he was special, because while the Sheikah train and practice their eyes for a whole lifetime for the gift, Sheik had the innate ability to See.

Impa herself had been learning much about illusory shadow magic and Seeing. Though she preferred fighting hand-to-hand, the mystery of the Sheikah magic was a crucial element in the culture and trade of her people. Agility, Loyalty, Truth. It was the mantra to which she swore and by which she lived.

Her father taught the younger Sheikah the art of combat, the way of the shadows and the discipline of Seeing. Like her brother before her and their older sister before him, Impa dutifully followed through with her studies and trained every day so that she could one day be worthy of the task of guarding the Royal Family. But despite being his daughter, Impa did not receive any favor from her trainer and might have even endured more discipline than any of his other students.

When Sheik joined in the training, Impa at first had her doubts. He seemed too weak and skinny and his vision was impaired because of his mask. But it did not impede his ability to See.

As a master illusionist, her father tested each of the young trainees in the art of Seeing by either concealing an object or producing false images around it. Impa had hated it, because even though all she felt like she was doing was squinting her eyes while trying to see things or through them, it was so draining. It was especially embarrassing when going through the training courses, because sometimes she would fall through a floor that wasn't actually there or fail to see a shortcut through an illusory wall. Sheik though, bounded through the courses with such ease compared to his companions, who were nervously making each step. Where he had trouble with the physical exercises, he made up for it with his magical ability.

It was slightly unfair to the other students, because the two friends were an enormous help to one another. Impa's steel and Sheik's shadows made for a perfectly complementary partnership, and they taught each other. Perhaps it was symbolic of their relationship overall, as it seemed they had a deep friendship that was difficult to describe with words alone.

Although that was true, she felt as though every day she was realizing all the more that she knew nothing about him. She knew all too well the sad, introspective Sheik staring off into the distance or silently listening to the Gossip stones or holding his chest with a clenched hand. The Sheik beyond the mask was a complete stranger.

"How old are you?" Impa asked him as they walked the graveyard together, holding bunches of flowers to lay on the graves.

"Why?" he asked as he brushed the dark hair that had fallen over the black eye holes of his mask.

"I realized that I don't really know. We look the same age, but you seem like you're learning a lot of this training for the first time. When a Sheikah turns sixteen, he has to pass the test in the Shadow Temple to receive his coming-of-age ceremony. That's when he receives the mark of his tribe. My sister and brother already did. They're serving the King, now." She lifted her head a little, as if she were proud of the association.

"And how old are you, Impa?"

"Fourteen. And you?"

"I am actually unsure. Well- my clan didn't have the custom of celebrating birthdays as we do here, so I must have forgotten." He was always very calm when he spoke about his tribe. She was often so curious about how he lived his life, but it was seldom that he spoke of it.

"I see." She watched as Sheik very intentionally brushed off the dust from the stone surface of a tombstone and laid down a white flower. Then she asked him another question. "Are you sad to be here? To be the last of your tribe? Is that why you cry when you are by yourself?"

The silence then was very odd, and Impa noticed it immediately.

"I… I am sorry, I don't know."

Impa bit back a comment, wondering how that could be, and looked at him with some suspicion.

In the end though, he kept his secrets.

- o -

When Sheik looked upon the well, there was a unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach as she remembered the words of her mentor long ago. When she closed her eyes, she tried to imagine the lonely house with the lonely man who could See, the house of the one who was her namesake.

But there was something unmistakably evil, a presence so twisted and sad that it made her skin tingle. When she looked down in the clear waters, she hooked her index finger over the lip of her scarf and pulled it down so that she could see her whole face in her reflection, looking at those false crimson irises and the artificially bronze skin as she dared to allow herself that brief moment of exposure.

"By the oath that binds you to me, I command you," the last of the Royal Family whispered over the waters, feeling how moment by moment the seal Impa had placed there was losing its power. "Stay sleeping in the shadows… there is nothing left for you in the world above."

The presence stirred slightly, as if stirring in an unsettled sleep, and she felt the creature's humane sadness, realizing that it was longing for the day the Hero would finally lay him to an eternal rest.

- o -

She had been the only eligible candidate of her class that year, and so she was to enter the Shadow Temple alone. To earn her marks, she had to find the deepest sanctum of the Temple and offer her prayer. The risks and challenges of the Temple had been kept secret, so that only those who had entered during their coming-of-age knew what dangers lay in that darkness. Rumors always floated amongst the candidates that it was a fearsome place, a house of the dead that always beckoned to living towards that eternal slumber…

But after earning her marks, she too, would be among the echelon of the elite, who passed down the most sacred knowledge of Hyrule, the Truth of the world, the reality of the gods… those stories that had been protected by the Sheikah since the creation.

Impa stood at the balcony that overlooked the graveyard, at the center of the circle of torches that flickered orange in a ghostly dance. The elders of the villagers stood behind her in a line, their arms crossed and marked faces solemn. She wore no cloak, simply the armor closely fitted against her skin and the single saber strapped on her back. Her fear was smothering, because she knew that if she failed to See, even just for a moment, it could cost her life. She closed her eyes and tried to listen to the voices of the dead, the ones she had listened to in the cemetery even as a little girl.

"May the Truth protect you always."

If she were to turn around and look over the balcony's balustrade, into the graveyard, she might have been able to see the group of villagers gathered there, where he was among them, waiting. She remained still as she gazed down the dark passageway, took a deep breath and plunged in.

The secrets of the temple could not be retold. As was the expectation, she never told another soul of what terrors she saw there until the day the princess chose to adopt the Sheikah way to escape the clutches of the Evil King.

- o -

"Sheik!"

He crumpled suddenly during their nighttime travels towards Hyrule Castle. As she came up to his side, she saw how he clutched his chest, the veins in the back of his hand protruding out of his whitened knuckles. He was breathing heavily, and she could sense as if he were holding back just crying out with the pain.

It had been a long time since he had experienced this sort of a spasm. Impa panicked in the privacy of her mind and placed both hands on his shoulders. He attempted to bat her aside with his free arm, but she resolutely remained close him, listening carefully to the sound of his breathing. When the pain did not appear to subside, she began digging through her pouch, her fingers searching for the glass bottle.

The red liquid inside sloshed against the sides as she took it out and pulled the cork out. Sheik shook his head and said something about saving their provisions, but she so forcibly put the mouth of the bottle against the mask that he stopped fighting and took the potion willingly from her with his trembling hands.

When his color partly returned, she took the bottle back from him and held onto his arm, trying to read his masked face.

"It's your time to rest."

"No… we have to hurry… there's not much time…" he protested, but she squeezed his arm and shook her head firmly.

"Don't say anything. Just a few hours, and I'm tired too. Please.. let's sleep."

Even without being able to see his face, she could sense that he was deeply troubled.

"All right."

When they found a safe place, they lay down close to each other in the shadows. Morning was still a few hours away, the insects of the night still robust in their singing as the trees rustled all around them.

She pretended to sleep by fighting the coughs and keeping absolutely still, her back towards her companion as she stared into the distance. When she had waited long enough to ensure that Sheik had fallen asleep, Impa slowly sat up and looked over her shoulder.

He lay curled in his dark cloak, his mask still secure over his face. She watched him as he slept, trying to overcome the myriad of emotions within her as she looked on and repeated her father's words in her mind. He trusted her. It would be so easy.

And ever so slowly she reached out her trembling hand, and it hovered over his dark hair and his pointed ears, over that scarlet eye that perpetually hid his features. One deft movement, and she could be able to see what she had longed to see since she was a girl. Impa imagined his face, though severely scarred, to be wonderful to look at. She always imagined his eyes glowing with tears as he smiled gently.

He stirred and turned his head slightly in his sleep, causing the mask to come slightly askew. Impa's eyes traced his bare jaw down to an exposed chin below the lower lip, where his dark skin shone against the moonlight. Then her conscience got the better of her and she lay back down, wondering if this was what it was like to experience heartbreak.

- o -