20 Nayru's Moon, 3712
"It is almost time."
"ALMOST. ALMOST. HE IS COMING."
"they are coming."
"that's what you've been saying."
"WE NEED THEM THIS TIME. HE IS RETURNING."
"who is returning?"
"Everybody."
Anju sighed and bit into her apple. The moon was strangely large tonight. She laughed a little to herself. She should be thankful it wasn't as large as it could be.
The world was quiet. Anju closed her eyes and heard a soft wind blowing. She sat on the edge of the cliffs outside the town. The night was full, the plains empty. She breathed. There were flowers, grass, a tree here and there. Anju squeezed the grass. Her heart felt soft.
"How are you feeling tonight?"
Anju breathed and opened her eyes again. "Scared."
Reuven nodded. "Why?"
Anju took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm scared about the future. I don't think Kafei likes me. Or trusts me. I don't trust him. I... the kids are stressful. Kafei's mother is a bitch. A. Bitch. I'm sorry, but she is. I don't know who I am anymore. I'm waiting around for him, and I don't know why. I'm taking care of the kids, and I don't know why. I run the inn, and I don't know why. I do everything, and I don't know why."
Reuven held her close. "Maybe you're just going through a rough patch."
"Maybe. I've... been feeling like this for awhile, though. I... is it bad to feel this way? I feel ungrateful. Isn't a mother supposed to love her kids?"
Reuven didn't say anything.
"Can you say something?"
"Are you sure you don't love them? What would you do if they got the flu?"
"Take care of them. I have to."
"But would you want to?"
Anju paused. "I don't know."
"Sorry. I'm not trying to push you."
"It's okay."
"We don't have to do anything tonight if you don't want to," said Reuven.
Anju started to cry. "This is terrible, what if Kafei sees me--"
"Kafei can go to hell--" said Reuven.
Anju looked at him. "Wow, Reuven."
"I'm serious," said Reuven angrily. "You shouldn't feel bad about this."
"I'm trying not to," said Anju. "I really am."
Reuven kissed her. Anju stared at him for a second. "When were you born again?"
"I'm 23," he said, after a pause.
Anju closed her eyes. All she felt was Reuven's warm chest. All she should feel.
Kasuto did not sleep. He lay awake--or so he felt--all night, his eyes staring up into the darkness. They eventually adjusted somewhat, and he fell into a sort of fitful half-sleep, his mind awake and furious, moaning at times. The spider was gigantic, he had to get it, it was imperative that he get it--and even worse, Lord Frenchmere and Lord Aginson were in cahoots with the witches of Asuto, whose son was sinfully bedding the Princess of Azalea. Eventually, he was aware of the sun, and himself, and the knowledge that Link hadn't come to wake him up at all during the night. Or if he did, he didn't remember it.
Kasuto felt filthy and terrible; his face felt ripe for squeezing up into a nice batch of tears, but he refused himself to do so. Morning had broken. New day. There was no reason why it should feel like the previous one.
He sat up and stretched. The forest was already fantastically alive, which already lifted Kasuto's spirits. Woodpeckers, sparrows, canaries, mockingbirds, crows, all were twittering and screaming and knocking and bripping, almost deafeningly. The foliage was thick, but occasional, blazingly-hot Dinbeams managed to break through. But neither Link, Epona, or anything else was anywhere to be found.
He treaded carefully. After a few moments, he called out Link's name. He swallowed, his day already marred, and tired from such change in emotions within only a few moments. Had he upset Link that much? He... was tired. Had been tired. Nothing new had changed.
Yet it had. He knew that the trip, the search had brought out something nasty in Kasuto, something to the forefront of their relationship. He couldn't quite say what it was, exactly. Unfortunately, however (or maybe fortunately), Kasuto wasn't one to think about things all that long. He set out in search of Link.
"Reuven!" Mrs. Snowbon beamed. "Good morning, my darling. Will it be the usual?"
Reuven, on his way to work, smiled cordially. "I think I'll actually try something different today, Mrs. Snowbon."
Mrs. Snowbon was a fat, pearly-white widow who, as Reuven's friends were constantly telling him, was absolutely wild about him. Great for Reuven. Never any beautiful-beyond-belief girls, but fat widows. Not that he didn't like Mrs. Snowbon--but he ached for someone else in Clock Town to notice him. He wasn't ugly. Sure, he was no Marlowe Lucking, but--
His tongue got caught somewhere between his stomach and his throat.
There, looking around in the entrance of Clock Town, was the most breathtakingly beautiful girl Reuven had ever seen. She didn't--superficially, at least--look any different than the popular girls at high school. She had huge brown eyes and a fine heap of nicely washed hair the same color. She stood, holding nothing, wearing a white sunflowered dress quite nicely.
"Oh, darling," said Mrs. Snowbon. "Ignore her. She looks mean, that one."
"She... doesn't," Reuven said quietly, surprising himself. She really didn't. She looked like she didn't belong in that beautiful body. She looked lonely, intelligent, and insecure. Maybe one could seem that way and still be that beautiful, but this girl nevertheless worked as hard--and successfully--as the vain rich girls did.
"Go. Go to Mr. Saffron," Mrs. Snowbon snapped, shoving him a brown bag. Reuven slowly took it, not looking at it, and walked away, his eyes still on the girl, thinking, and wondering.
"You look familiar."
Link stared at the young man behind the counter. He didn't seem to scream at Link's appearance, as most people did. "I do?" He said.
The young man flinched, but kept his eyes on Link. "You..." he ran his eyes up and down Link, who couldn't read the expression that followed. "I remember you. You."
Link didn't know what to say. "I don't," he said, not exactly interested. Then he realized. This man knew where to find Him.
"Do you know where he is?" Link snarled.
The young man looked confused. "Where who is?"
Link had gotten relatively skilled at maintaining a human facade, but now his anger overwhelmed him, as it did. "Where he is!" He screamed, and he felt his tongue lengthen and hiss, and his features darken and the world grow red. "Where is he?"
The shop was empty that day, and there was only the young man there. All the light seemed to exit the room as Link grew, giggling and laughing. Words couldn't describe the glee he felt, nor could they describe this rage, this wild, unfurled rage. Mouths opened up into mouths, saliva lacerated the air. Arms grow from arms. Black covered black. And Link laughed. The young man screamed, but the screams were carried off, away into the darkness.
There was a castle. Different castle. Strange. Large. Unreal. Underwater. Preserved. A tiny him. Puppet, really. Sword. The him was a marionette, a child. Hands controlling it.
You have no will.
Link shot up, sweating. The world slowly focused in. He blinked. "Kasuto?" He stood up. Bright Nayrubeams spotted the ground through the trees. Something clicked in his mind. Something about this forest was too familiar.
Zelda woke, gasping. She looked around, her eyes wide, it was coming, it was going to—
Dinlight. Birdchirp. Reality came back to her. No monsters. No demons. Not lately, anyway, she thought darkly. She swallowed, running a hand through her hair, and grimaced—her hair was rough and grimy. She looked around—Ki was curled up under a small grey and red quilt in the corner, and Pamela and her father slept in separate beds close by. She'd gotten used to living like a peasant—though she would never have used the word in front of them. She sensed that they didn't think of themselves as such—in Hyrule, peasants know their place. The walls were covered with brown and green and who knows what, the water pumped from a well well outside the town, the room was dark with no fireplace to speak of, and when Din set, so did the family.
"Ki," she whispered.
"Ni. Ni. Ni." A voice suddenly said, and Zelda jumped.
"Who's there?" she said loudly. Pamela shot up. Sam mumbled.
Zelda waited again for the voice, but it didn't come.
"Zelda?" said Pamela, in her low nasal. "Are you okay?"
"The voice, didn't you hear the voice?" Zelda demanded.
Pamela stared at her. "No," she said quietly.
Zelda glared at her and listened again, but the voice was gone. Then she realized that Ki hadn't woken up.
"Ki?" she said again, but Ki didn't move. She pulled the scratchy brown sheet off of her and marched over to Ki's bed.
He wasn't there. What she'd thought was Ki was merely the lump of quilt.
"Where'd he go?" said Pamela.
"I don't know," said Zelda. "Pamela, it was wonderful meeting you, but I really ought to get going."
"Where are you going?"
Zelda felt like glaring again at the girl, but she decided not to. "Home."
"Oh," said Pamela. "Okay. Bye." She lay back down again, but she didn't close her eyes. "What about Ki?"
"What about him? I have to get home."
Pamela just looked at her and said nothing else.
She did have to go home.
"Hello?"
A voice answered him back. "Hello?"
The forest had turned even darker than before. Kasuto swallowed, then berated himself. He had no reason to be afraid of the darkness. He took a step, then yelped. A flame suddenly stood between him and a Goron girl, probably around sixteen years old, with curly brown hair and sapphire eyes.
"Who are you?" they said at the same time. The flame was in the Goron girl's hand, and Kasuto had pulled out a shuriken. "Who are you?" they said again.
Kasuto licked his lips.
"I'm Regina," rasped the girl.
"Kasuto."
Neither lowered their weapons.
"Give me a single reason why I should trust you," Regina said.
"I can't," said Kasuto. "Can you?"
"No."
Kasuto hesitated, then lowered his shuriken. After another moment, Regina did as well.
"I don't trust humans," she said at last.
"Then you're in luck. I'm not a human."
Regina raised her eyebrow. "Oh, really? What are you, then?"
"A Gerudo."
Regina rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, I've heard that. You're all the same, it's not like you're a different race."
"How come we can reproduce without the opposite sex, then?"
"Good point."
"How about you? What's your story?"
"You never exactly told me your story."
"That's true. Would you like me to?"
"Please."
"I'm lost. I'm looking for my lover. Hylian? Green clothes, green hat? Blond? Sword--"
"Haven't seen him."
Kasuto realized he was having trouble breathing and coughed. "It's getting claustrophobic."
"Giants, I know."
"How about you?"
"Can't say. Top-secret information. Classified."
Kasuto narrowed his eyes at her. "How am I supposed to trust you again?"
Regina shrugged. "Instinct." After seeing Kasuto's face, she sighed. "All right, I'm from Snowhead Mountain. I'll give you that much."
"Fair enough. I--"
"Can't say I've heard of any Hylians, though. What does a Hylian look like?"
"Like a human--"
"Hah!"
"--But with long, pointy ears?"
Regina shook her head. "Nothing comes to mind. So are you from Hylia, that means?"
Kasuto frowned. "I've never heard of such a place. And I've been many places. We come from a land called Hyrule, though."
Regina scratched at something. Maybe a tree; Kasuto couldn't tell. "It sounds familiar."
"This is foolish," said Kasuto. "We're never going to get where we're going in the dark."
"Well said--eh--" Regina looked Kasuto up and down. "You said you're a Gerudo?"
Kasuto turned red. "Yes. My father was."
Regina's eyes sparkled. "Your father! So you--"
"Yes, I have a mother," Kasuto snarled. "I'm really not in the mood for this, all right?"
"Sorry," Regina held up her hands. "I was just curious--"
"Yeah, well, everyone's just curious. It's not easy, you know. I may not even be able to have kids, so yeah, it's not easy."
"I'm sorry," said Regina, after a pause. "I am, really."
"Let's just sleep," said Kasuto.
They slept.
"I don't like this place," Link said, out loud. The woods didn't seem to hear him. It was dark, darker than Kokiri Forest ever seemed, and the green seemed malevolent, darker—though, he thought wryly, he knew Kasuto would scold him for equating malevolence with darkness.
His breaths began to come faster now. He knew—hoped—the place was normal now, but the fact was, the last time he'd been, he'd been under a constant deadline.
A Deadline.
"Hello?" A voice suddenly called out, and Link's sword flipped out of its holster.
"Who's there?" he growled.
"Oh, bless me, bless me!" the voice said, and a withered old lady appeared from behind the bushes. "It's just I, dearie, just I…" her mouth hung open as she stared at Link. "Such a familiar young man."
The old lady was even more wrinkly than the last time he'd seen her—if that was even possible. He thought wryly that she and the Archdeacon Priest would make a good couple—and then remembered that they wouldn't, for many reasons. Her skin seemed to fold infinitely over itself—he couldn't even see the woman's eyes anymore. She had shrunk to half Link's height, though much of it was due to a large hump in her back. Her tiny frame was swathed in velvet and rose, and her lips looked as though there was something hungry inside, devouring.
"Koume," said Link simply, a dull hatred even now welling up inside him.
The witch chuckled—her voice sounded so palpable, like cabbage. "Kotake, dear."
"Which one are you?" said Link.
"I told you, I'm Kotake."
"No, I mean, Hyrule Kotake or Termina Kotake?"
The witch giggled again. "Who knows anymore?"
"Have you seen—a man? Young man? Looks like a Sheikah?"
"You can't hide things from Koume, you know. You're sleeping with him."
Link began to get annoyed. "Have you seen him or not?"
"Dearie, dearie, this old mush does get tired. Come back to the treehouse for some tea?"
"I don't even know why you're even up in that treehouse," he grumbled, following her out of the forest.
"Gingi, don't forget the thistleweed," Laima tweeted.
"I didn't. It's right here," said Marlowe.
"Good," said Laima. "Get some more."
Grumbling, Marlowe walked away.
Laima smiled. She liked her life, except when she didn't. No matter. Life was life, and it had its ups and downs. A major up being Marlowe…'s body. She knew it wasn't something to brag about, but she had been rather pleased at the matchmaker's decision, and knew all the other girl watched her daily with a raging jealousy.
"That's enough," said Laima—Marlowe had collected another bushelful. She leaned in to kiss him, and he pulled back.
"I'm not ready yet," he said weakly, and walked away.
Laima watched him. He was perfect, absolutely perfect.
Marlowe's stomach felt cold. Could your stomach sweat? It didn't seem possible. It twisted, just thinking about it. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He needed him. He knocked on the wooden door so hard he almost broke his fist.
"You're late," said Kafei. His strange red eyes always looked mean.
"I'm sorry," said Marlowe, bursting into tears. "Laima had me picking thistleweed--"
"Close the door before someone sees you!" Kafei hissed—Marlowe did. The room was small, sparsely furnished, but well hidden.
"I can't take it anymore, Coffee. I can't! I feel like I'm going to torn apart."
"This is reality, Marlowe. These are the facts. There's no use getting upset over it." But the words were said tenderly. Marlowe looked at Coffee, utterly charmed at the state of his shaggy purple hair, but too upset to say anything about it. He needed attention now.
"Shh, baby. Everything's gonna be all right."
"I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for her. I don't want her."
"She loves you," said Kafei.
"I don't love her."
"It doesn't matter. There has to be some love. You'll make it work. It's working."
"How is this working?"
"It's happening, isn't it?"
Marlowe was always too exhausted to reason with Coffee.
"Let's take these clothes off of you."
He did.
"Now, Marlowe, tell me what's inside," said Coffee.
"No, no, I—" Marlowe sighed horribly and stood up. "I need to be here. I need to look at you. Why—"
"Why what?"
"Why do I feel like you're a cartoon?" Marlowe blurted out. Why on Earth had he said.
"Do cartoons do this?" said Coffee, kissing him sensuously on the lips.
Hot. Wet. Fast. Coffee, with purple hair and scratchy stubble, and imperfect angles, but perfect angles, and perfect touch, and different, and mean, and not cartoon. Not a cartoon.
She refused to be tortured like some silly little girl. She slammed open the door to the room but was shocked to see the girl standing at the window. Tatl froze. The girl turned around. She was even more beautiful with her eyes open, sharp pricks of blue, poignant and seeing.
"Hello," the girl said.
"Hi," Tatl said, but no said came out.
The girl smiled, though somewhat coldly. "My name is Navi."
My name is Navi.
And, somehow, Link was not surprised when Lulu greeted him as he stepped into the treehouse—how it stayed up at all, he wondered. He was also greeted with a wave of stifling heat—multiple fires were burning, under cauldrons, under bottles of potions, and, most of all, countless sticks of incense and herbs hanging from the ceiling—overall, it made Link immediately dizzy.
Lulu was Ruto in a purple dress. Her light blue head, shaped like a small football, seemed smooth, not shiny, but pretty as Zora heads went, and of course bald. And her eyes were royal velvet, like her dress, and Link remembered how the instant she'd recovered her voice seven years ago, she'd screamed, loud and long.
Now she stared at him—a sort of greeting—as he stepped in.
"Hi," said Link. He didn't know what else to say.
"Hi," said Lulu, still staring at him.
Koume gave him a bowl of some sort of brown stew—it was surprisingly good, after Link brought a tentative spoonful to his lips, and he wolfed it down. After he finished, he noticed that Lulu was kneeling over a figure on a bed, rubbing some sort of oil on its body.
"Do you remember me?" said Link.
"Listen, I really have to concentrate on this," Lulu snapped. "Probably."
Link said nothing.
"Oh, I'm sure you slept together at some point," giggled Koume.
"Well, okay," said Link, standing up. "Thanks for your help, but I—"
A low moaning came from the bed.
"Is--is he awake?" said Link.
Lulu glared at him. "Obviously."
Link breathed and felt stupid. He hated feeling stupid. He should just leave. He had to find Kasuto, and neither of them were being helpful.
"Come here and help, Link," said Koume. "I know you know some magic."
Lulu's head snapped around. "Link?"
Link stared at her. Within a second, a fin-blade was pressed against Link's throat, and he froze. He suddenly realized he'd never been so close to death before.
Koume laughed again. "I knew you'd slept together."
"Show me the mask," Lulu growled.
Suddenly, Link knew.
The cauldron bubbled, and the figure moaned.
"What mask?" said Koume, her voice starting to quiver. "Leave him alone, girl! Help me with this—uh, man!"
"I don't have it with me," Link said. "I wish I did."
"Was it fun?" The Zora snarled. "Stealing him? Pulling me around? Lying to me?"
"No," Link said, snarling right back. "It wasn't fun. It was necessary. You couldn't know. No one could know."
"They why didn't you tell me?"
"How did you even find out?"
"Find out? Find out?" Lulu roared. "I'll tell you how I found out! When I saw my lover's bones on the beach! When I asked around! When I found someone who saw some preteen brat playing with a mask and turning into—" she choked. "You stupid filth, asking me how I found out. You're a piece of work."
Before Link could shout out that he had been twelve, for Din's sake, she was gone. He let a deep breath out.
"Well, I won't pry," said Koume. "You seem to like mannish things. Maybe you'll help me out with this one?"
Link stepped over, tentatively, and for the first time, he could see the figure clearly—it was a Zora, a male Zora, a gorgeous, muscular, young Zora, moaning and thrashing.
"I don't know anything about medicine," said Link.
"You'll have to do. Rub this lotion on him."
Link turned red, but then again, it could have been the incense and fires, one of which was burning close to the Zora.
"Get that fire away from him," Link said quickly. Koume grabbed a pot of water and threw it on the fire immediately. "In fact, get him out of here. He needs to be in cool water."
"You won't find any of that around here," said Koume.
Why in the world wouldn't Lulu take him to Great Bay?
"Where did Lulu go?"
Koume shrugged. Link ran to the door. She was nowhere in sight.
"LULU!"
There was nothing excerpt for the squawks and shrieks of the swamp.
Link stepped back in. "I have to take him to Zora's Hall," he said.
"Suit yourself," said Koume. "Though if you want him to continue in this world, I wouldn't recommend it."
"I have a quick way. But I need you to come with me."
Koume's eyes nearly bugged out. "Dear, I'm an old woman, I hardly think—"
"As far as I know," said Link. "There is no one at Zora Hall who knows how to heal like you do. I need you."
Why wasn't he looking for Kasuto?
"My dear, I really am flattered, but I can't possibly—"
"You'll be fine," said Link, springing into action. "I can come back here if we need anything else. You need to come outside with me. And him."
Koume stepped outside and watched, rather interested, as Link heaved the enormous Zora over his shoulder, and shrieked as the owl swooped towards them.
