The Legend of Zelda: The Siren's Song
Chapter One: Youth
A/N: This is a fan fiction involving one or more original characters. I do not purposely create Mary-Sues, but if you feel, after reading, that my characters are immature and underdeveloped, please let me know. However, if you hate Mary-Sues or fictions that revolve around the fan character, you probably shouldn't be reading this fan fiction. Flames will be centered for tribal dances.
No one was quite sure about the two youths racing down the paths, one boy, one girl, jumping feet first into the shallows of Berylice lake, splashing each other in a war of giggles and shrieks. No one really questioned it, either, their childish frolics all a part of good summer fun. It was these kinds of acts of pure innocence that made adults and elders smile in nostalgia and hope all at the same time, and the villagers each knew the duo by name; the boy being "Link" and the girl being known as "Shyka." No doubt there were other children in the small but bustling community, but these two were praised the town over for their good natured acts of 'defending the village from evil-doers' and infamous for the mischief caused by such heroic notions. It was common in the town-- Quille by name --for the children to be shy. By all means, they each bore their own quirks-- intelligence, brown-nosing, mischief, a love for shiny things or a fascination with acting older than one's true age-- but none were as vivid, none harbored such a spirit for discovery and adventure than Link and Shyka. Oh, and they were friends closer than none other. When other children stopped short of the dark forest and Shyka had to know what wailed when they blew their trumpets at the celebration of the goddesses, it was Link who braved the vines by her side (nearly racing her to the punch) to find a hound pup, singing along as best he could. And when Link couldn't convince the other kids to ride the raft out to the island in the middle of the lake after they had all participated in its creation, it was Shyka who nearly left without him, too eager to find out what made the world turn to wait for the indecisive to make up their minds.
In their minds, it'd been like this forever. They were too young to remember ever having lived another way, and in childish naïveté assumed that they'd go on like this forever. Even if they couldn't foretell the future, all of the elders knew wisely against this, but refused to trouble themselves with the concept of children growing up and parting ways, nor of friends they had lost through the years that lead them to this town or never lead them away. Everyone concerns themselves with the now, the great and important today, the youths never knowing what to expect, the adults expecting the unexpected, and the elders knowing better than to second-guess your possibilities at all.
"Link! Come out of the water! Shyka, you know better! It's the first day of the Festival of the Faiths and you need to look your best for dinner!" A concerned mother stood at a path uphill from the shores of the Berylice. The first day of the Festival of the Faiths actually didn't begin until night. All day long, the villagers would work hard to prepare for the opening festivities of a 3 day celebration of the goddesses that crafted Hyrule and the likes, the husbands chewing the fat as they set up the booths of attractions and brought in crates of fireworks, the wives telling tales of carnivals past as they bathed their children, gussied up, and baked fresh pies and pastries special to that region. Really it was a local celebration; Quille lie in the region of Remoa, barely large enough to be considered a region at all than a simple extension of Hyrule. In fact, Remoa was so small that typically you might just find Quille's sister city of Ijareos on a map of Hyrule, listed as a simple resting city for supplies needed by travelers entering or exiting Hyrule, and few but the most determined adventurers ever 'passed through' Hyrule, so even Ijareos wasn't the big city that the residents of Quille believed it to be.
That night, however, the first night of the festival, celebrated the goddess Nayru, an image of her ever-opened arms painted on the arch that was being built over the bridge leading into the town. Nayru's wisdom, love, and generosity were always celebrated on the first day, which customarily had a large feast served--most of which were sweets and pastries--music and singing, and the exchanging of gifts. There was gift exchanging all three nights of the festival after years of the celebrations, but Nayru's night was meant for gifts of greater meaning, and each night the gifts given were always connected to the celebrated goddess. The other nights of the festival were more casual, but due to the motherly nature generally associated with the blue goddess, children were expected to be groomed and well dressed--as well as their parents.
"Aww, come on! It's just water!" Shyka glanced over at Link, her wavy dark brown locks tangled and wet, and winked, her entire face contributing to the effort, making her look almost like a little imp. Link wasn't much the talking type, and usually let anyone accompanying him do all the conversing lest he had to fend for himself, which in most cases meant a short and simple response on his part. The girl turned her gaze back to Link's mother and pushed her bangs out of her face. "It's like we're taking a second bath! See? We're as fresh as the lake now!"
These immature negotiations failed to sway the woman's mind. "And you'll be taking a third bath, now--and a forth if your mother finds you dressing the pigs again like last year. Mind you, the lake is only as fresh as the mud on your shoes. Come, Link, I'll draw you a bath again and find you fresh clothes." With this the woman disappeared down the trail away from the lake, and the two children stood motionless in the waters, dripping wet and silent save for their heavy panting from the labors of drowning each other only moments earlier. Finally, Shyka fell backwards into the waters and threw her hands behind her head, floating comfortably in the waves.
"This isn't any fun. We can't do anything before nightfall. I mean, no matter what we do, half the day's gonna be nothing but prettying ourselves up again…" Link crawled out onto the beach, pulling a twing off the ground and digging in the clay colored mud. Shyka jumped up with a splash and almost fell face first back into the water out of excitement. "Say, why don't we stay home today? We won't have to bathe as many times as last year and I've gotta help my Uncle with some stuff, anyways! Well, it was fun playing with you, Link, I'll talk to you later have fun bye!!" The brown haired girl dashed from the waters and tripped in her haste homewards. Link raised an eyebrow and rubbed his eyes, seeing as most days, simply separating the two could take a good hour. The abandonment was even worse-- it was only afternoon and if he didn't have Shyka to keep him busy with mischief, his mother would make him work. He looked down at the sand. Water washed against his stick, and he let it go, watching the shores draw it into the lake. He glanced at his reflection in the ripples, pale with deep blue eyes and golden hair. He was 12 years old, now. With a frown, he headed home. All morning, Shyka hadn't said a thing to him about his birthday.
It was all the same every year: his birthday was on Nayru's night and Shyka never remembered it. Now, she even forgot about it and went so far as to leave him to his own devices. Perhaps mother would make him feel better--he hoped that she'd let him help her instead of making him help the other boys count the farm stock; she let him lick the spoons on his birthday.