Drat those Gorons.

Here he was, shoveling coal with tired, aching arms, for the remote possibility that he might actually have enough resources to make an estranged bomb.

Almost the entire town was dead, and those selfish rock-eating brutes were keeping to themselves like they owned the mountain.

Perhaps if he had been given more materials, he would have better bombs, and they might not even be in this situation.

Speaking of situations, that green kid- Link, wasn't it? Why was he so bad with names?- was supposedly trekking his gallant self up the mountain trail- what a ridiculous proposition! The Gorons weren't about to let Barnes himself, their closest business partner, even near their goods. And this guy, this kid, was about to wrestle his way up an active volcano for whatever he was after.

Link had just saved Colin only moments before from a ferocious beast, so the kid did have promise. It was all very thrilling. Maybe Malo, in his psychedelic mind-reading, had been right. Despite the inconveniences and wrought terror scrambling through the village like the plague, something had actually happened for once.

It was okay to be thrilled, wasn't it?

He heard the door swing open, and Barnes dropped his shovel with a resounding clang.

"Mr. Barnes, sir?"

He peered around the corner and felt relief wash over him, "Cripes, Luda, you scared me. I thought you were one of them beasts again."

He bounded down the steps, soot-covered arms forming angles at his side, careful not touch his marginally clean clothes.

Luda habitually tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear, upholding her confidence through eye-contact. "Mr. Barnes, my father would like to know if you would be so kind as to take the shift of watching Colin through the night."

"Eh?"

"Beth and I are going to sleep, and seeing as you're an adult, my father figured you could watch over Colin and see if he's well."

"Oh..." Barnes scratched the back of his neck, "Gee, hun, I don't know," he gestured up the steps, "I've got work to do."

Luda gave him an incredulous look, folding her arms tightly against her chest. He was not at all surprised to see her take control; she was very much like her father.

"Well, I suppose you'll want me to stay awake all night while some kid snores and catches Z's beside me?"

Luda nodded.

"Am I going to have to cater to him? Because I don't know a thing about kids, and you should know that more than anyone. I ain't gonna wipe the cold sweat from his brow and tell him he's gonna be alright- I'm not even sure if anyone does that, anyway."

Luda shook her head vigorously, "No, Mr. Barnes, that's not what you're going to have to do."

Barnes raised an eyebrow, a key for her to continue.

"Just watch him through the night and wake up Renado if anything odd happens," She gave a hopeful smile, and Barnes found no other way to express himself than placing his hand on his forehead.

"I don't really have an option, do I?"

Exasperation, "No, Mr. Barnes."

"I bet Renado told you not to leave until I've agreed to do this, hmm?"

Luda hesitated, "...That's correct."

"Well, cripes, Luda," He wiped his hands on his work apron before untying the back and disregarding it to the side, "I guess I'll do it."

She smiled understandingly and bowed out of a respect that Barnes doubted she held for him, "I'll tell my father at once."

She turned to leave, then spun around, "Oh, and Mr. Barnes?"

"What?"

"Arrive at the inn at sunset, and I would advise bringing a book or something to keep you from being bored."

Barnes thanked Luda unthinkingly, ushering her out the door with the wave of a hand. He had a few stacks of books in the back, packaged away in boxes, isolated like a plague. He used his shovel to pry them open, coughing at the sudden cyclone of dust in the air. Kneeling over the crate, he pulled out stacks of untouched pages, things inherited like religious texts and family records; albums of poorly taken photos from his childhood (were his freckles really that abundant?), serving as an undocumented timeline of his life; and finally, at the bottom, a few fictional and informational titles that had gone unread for so long- he couldn't even recall when he purchased them.

He tossed aside A Fisherman's Guide for the Lanayru Province, An Annotated Hylian History, a few novels about seafaring adventures in a world comprised only of oceans, and Of the Rocks I Eat: a Goron Autobiography.

He picked up one, wiped away years of dust with his palm, opened the faded blue cover and looked for a date written anywhere. He found one on the first inside page, reading a date almost two-hundred years old.

"What?"

Flipping through the pages, he squinted to read the characters,even through his glasses. He wiped the lenses, but the lines and shapes were indistinguishable.

With a gasp of realization, it became apparent that the characters were in Ancient Hylian, an alphabet foreign to him. Few people could actually read the language in this age, and Renado was one of them- Barnes didn't strangle himself with superficial niceties like that.

Regardless, Barnes was befuddled as to how this strange piece of text actually ended up in his possession. He never remembered seeing it, and the title was unreadable, nor was there any indication this belonged to one of his family members. And oddly enough, the date on the inside cover was written in Modern Hylian, whilst the inside gave another.

Considering they were similar languages, he could probably decipher a few words, but looking at the rest would be fruitless. The other books were of no interest, so taking this to his little rendezvous later might actually make the time slip away a little faster, provided he could find a means of translating it.


"Hey, Renado."

"Ah. Barnes. I'm pleased Luda could convince you to come here tonight."

Barnes shut the door behind him, "Yeah, yeah, but hey," He brought the book out in front of him and presented it to Renado, holding it delicately, like a relic, "Check this out."

"What's this?"

"I found it in one of my old crates that I never get into," He peeled back the first page, "There's a date written in modern Hylian that's centuries old, but the rest is scribbled out in Ancient Hylian." Barnes was flipping through pages passionately, pointing at the foreign characters. His sudden interest surprised himself.

Renado frowned, finger tapping on his chin, "How curious. I would love to act as a translator, but now is certainly not the time." He nodded towards Luda and Beth, of whom were setting up beds to sleep in another room, "There is far too much work to be done."

"No, I mean," Barnes was anxious, inexplicably flushed in the face, then returned his gaze to the text, "Do you have a translation dictionary or something? I don't know…"

Renado closed his eyes knowingly, "You seem very interested, Barnes. It seems your interest is focused on something other than bombs."

An embarrassed chuckle, "Well, you know…" Barnes scratched the back of his neck, "It's something for me to do while I watch the kid."

"While you watch over Colin?"

Barnes took the hint, "While I watch over Colin."

"Very well," Renado opened the door, halting in the frame, "It seems this is necessary and a rather interesting mystery. I will return with a book of translations that I own. It is, however, slightly difficult to read."

Renado left swiftly, and Barnes lumbered up the stairs towards Colin's room.


The moon had risen to a peak above the Eldin Province at this hour of night, lustrous silver light casting an appearance of false daylight on the spring, and lengthy, dark shadows across Death Mountain. The village was painfully quiet without the screech and eerie footsteps of the beasts who had claimed and raided Kakariko only a day before.

Barnes, however, was enthralled by the tiny black text on the old paper before him, squinting beside the light of candles to change from dictionary to book and back again. A quill in his hand, he had scribbled rough translations below the text in question.

Ignorant of the sleeping boy in the bed next to his chair, he was beginning to understand the general flow of the language, until he came across a work that had no direct translation.

He jotted a tiny question mark beneath it, and continued.

After hours of eye-straining work, he had finished two pages before he decided to sit back and actually read the words that may give him an understanding of the inexplicable book.

From the time I encountered this world until its near demise, I became well acquainted with the inhabitants. Their repetitive schedules, monotonous lives, the way they never ventured from that routines no matter their desires. I was saddened by their lack of motivation, because even when time repeated like the flip of an hourglass, they continued to do the same. Nothing interfered with them, there was no force on Earth powerful enough to change them.

Even impending doom and obvious death could not deter them.

Perhaps that trait is admirable.

? did not think so.

Barnes sat and stared at the text in front of him, furiously wracking his brain for the mysterious word.

He said it aloud, a whisper to the night, as if saying it would magically make it readable. Unfortunately, no such thing happened, and he sighed, defeated. Tossing the book on the nightstand like it had been the millionth draft of a love letter, he found himself staring at the boy before him.

That book didn't make a single word of sense, and he didn't want it to. The worn pages were foreign to him, unwelcome, and quite frankly, he did not feel comfortable around them. No matter how desperately he attempted, he could not remember owning it, and therefore didn't want to anymore.

Colin was fortunate for being a child. Granted, he was wounded and lying on a bed unconscious, but he didn't have to deal with so many horrible aspects of life. The innocence of childhood was something Barnes himself craved desperately, because he didn't have to be frightened by translated books, or question his entire personality, or stay up late watching over someone else because adults were responsible for those kinds of things.

Blonde strands of hair were matted to the child's forehead, parted in all sorts of direction, sticky with cold sweat. His breathing was less shallow now, as the cool night air circulated through the room. The rise and fall of his chest was so rhythmic that Barnes had grown accustomed to it, as if it were part of the room itself.

Barnes leaned back in his chair, felt his eyelids grow heavy, and when he had nearly fallen limp to the arms of sleep, a whimpering sound drew him back.

"Colin?"

Barnes sat up, squinted, and found the boy tossing and turning violently in his bed.

"Hey, quit movin' or you'll mess up your bandages."

Colin did not obey. He was muttering something incoherent, flailing in a nightmarish manner. It occurred to Barnes that he should probably alert Renado, but if all this was was a nightmare, then it would be ridiculous to wake up the entire village for that.

"Mother…."

Oh.

That made sense. The kid had to miss his parents, considering he had probably never been away from home before. He was terrified, and Barnes could not deny it.

"Kid, uh… calm down," A brief pause, "You'll be okay."

There was continuous shaking and a few more whimpers before Colin finally settled down as Barnes coaxed him a little more.

It was safe to assume that this was the worst that could happen- nightmares, that is- and Barnes could now attempt to sleep. The ominous darkness was replaced by the solace of his eyelids, and Barnes could now sleep.

Yeah, there's a teeny reference to Majora's Mask, and I figured the book could be found because I think the Happy Mask Salesman probably never stayed in Termina after Link saved it, so his ability to time travel is plausible. But don't think into it, I just wanted to add it. It won't be used in the story later; these are just drabbles. Thanks for reading! :)