Repeat: 100 Majora's Mask Oneshots

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Thanks to my first reviewer; I really appreciated hearing your thoughts!

Chapter 2: Luminous

Mr Barten opened the door to the Milk Bar, suppressing a yawn. It was nine o'clock and he'd had a long night. He'd been short-staffed so the normal influx of townsfolk visiting the bar after eleven o'clock had been rather poorly handled. Oh well, he couldn't really do much besides begin the cleanup for the new night's patrons.

However, first he really needed to stretch his legs. Standing behind a bar counter all night, cleaning cups and mugs, greeting customers, why, it all grew tiresome when he couldn't really move around. So, instead, Mr Barten locked his door and began to take his usual stroll around Clock Town. He was greeted immediately by Madam Aroma, a woman who frequented his bar, especially on days when her husband, the mayor, seemed particularly lost at work.

"Did you see?" she asked.

"Hm?" He cocked his head slightly to the side. "See what, Madam Aroma?" Mr Barten scratched his receding hairline in confusion.

"The moon, dear. It seems to be getting bigger." With a heavily bejeweled hand, she gestured widely to the general direction of the moon. Mr Barten looked up in the sky, expecting to have to search for the object of the woman's scrutiny, but he saw it and, no, she was not exaggerating. The moon, once a small sphere in the sky had grown at least five times its original size.

"That's not right," the man murmured. "Now, just when did that happen?"

The mayor's wife shrugged. "Who can say? Went to bed last night and I thought it was normal." Aroma stared at the barkeep for just a moment before shaking her head. "Oh well. We can't do much. I suppose it will return to normal tomorrow." Mr Barten just nodded, and went his separate way from the rotund woman. Still, every time he turned a corner, he found his eyes gazing skyward, analyzing the horrible sphere of rock that was suddenly looming just above their heads.

Mr Barten hurried back home after he realized how unnerved he was by the sight. The next morning, he was hesitant to even go outside. What if the moon hadn't gone back to normal? What if it was still big and unnatural? What if it had gotten bigger? Mr Barten took a cloth to his forehead and wiped away the droplets of sweat from its shiny surface.

With a deep intake of breath, he opened his door and was immediately frightened. The moon, that monstrous thing, had gotten bigger. The owner of the only bar in Clock Town took a step back in through the door. Not only had it gotten bigger, but now the thing had a face. An honest-to-goodness face. And not just any face. Its eyes were massive and they burned, rage seeming to blister beneath their glossy surfaces. It was as if the moon wanted to raze Termina to the ground. And its mouth, oh, it's horrible, horrible mouth, it was turned down in a clenching motion, as if the thing were exerting actual effort to push itself closer to the surface of the world.

Mr Barten shut the door, descending back down the stairs and sitting himself down on the lowest step. How absolutely frightening. If it got much bigger, that ball in the sky, the one that had always seemed so far away, why, that thing might crush them.

"Ha," the barkeep exhaled. Like that would ever happen.

Days later, despite the questionable deku sprout and that violet eyed goron that had both tried repeatedly to get into his bar, nothing much had happened. Each morning he peeked out a crack in his door and eyed the moon to see if the horrifying thing had gotten bigger. Each time, he wished he'd just stayed inside because he was never pleased with the conclusion he had reached. The thing grew ever closer and its eyes only burned more.

The sad thing was Mr Barten could not speak his mind to his customers as they did to him. It wasn't his job to have an opinion, so he just listened. He listened to the believers who, like him, believed that the moon would crush them all. He listened to the skeptics who, unlike him, assumed that no such thing could happen. He listened to the ones in denial, who were almost like him, but they could not face the truth and denied it in fear, not because the truth wasn't viable to them. But he never voiced his opinion. He just nodded to each and every complaint, each and every fear and tried with all his might to comfort the adults in Clock Town with his nightly business. It was the least he could do.

There came a point where a boy in green ambled down his steps, his membership mask attached tightly to his face. Mr Barten, once a man to argue that even if a child had a mask of membership, they should not be allowed in, just remained silent and nodded to his doormen that the boy could come in. If the world was going to end, there was a possibility that this boy would never have a chance to drink his first Romani Milk.

The boy was quiet, ignoring the loud cacophony of voices around him and choosing instead to nurse a large cup of the two-hundred rupee Romani Milk (which he paid for no problem, to Mr Barten's surprise).

The boy, between acts on the stage, looked up at the barkeep, blue eyes curious. What did the moon look like before? The words were soft and Mr Barten struggled for a second to hear them, but years in the service of Clock Town had taught him how to partially read lips so he easily got the gist of the question.

"Like any other moon, I suppose," he said gruffly, setting down the glass cup he'd been drying. "It was smaller, of course. Used to be about this big," and with the fingers on one hand, Mr Barten formed a rough circle between his thumb and index finger, holding it above his head and closing one eye for a better perspective. "Didn't have such a face, either. Sure, the thing had dark spots that kinda looked like a face, but not an actual face." The boy nodded, seeming to know exactly what he was talking about. "You never seen the moon before, boy?"

The boy shrugged and looked into the creamy surface of his drink.

Mr Barten cleared his throat. "Anyways, it used to glow."

The blond looked back up. Glow, he repeated.

"It was luminous. Some nights, it was so bright, you'd swear that it was a second sun in the sky." Mr Barten smiled bitterly. "Of course, the moment it started to get bigger, it grew dull. The only things that shine anymore are its eyes."

The child nodded. He, just like everyone else, had seen the lump of rock in the sky and its unnatural gaze.

Mr Barten sighed. "Look, kid, I don't usually say things like this, but, well, I don't know if Clock Town is going to survive this." Blue eyes widened. "It's not my job to say things, you know, but I figure, well, I don't think we have that much time left. I don't . . . I don't wanna die without speaking my mind just once." The slowly balding man just shook his head. "Sorry to burden you with such heavy thoughts, kid. Maybe you should go back to where you came from. If you leave soon, you might be able to escape before that moon crashes down on us because, believe me, no matter what those eggheads in town say, it's what's going to happen."

The boy's eyes hardened beneath the shadow of his membership mask. He shook his head.

No, it won't. Believe me, if it's the last thing I do, it will not live to touch Termina.

It was Mr Barten's turn for his eyes to widen. The kid, well, he had guts. But promises didn't mean much unless you could actually carry them through. This . . . this was not one of those promises that was possible to keep. Still, Mr Barten envied the boy's conviction.

"You can take that mask off, kid. I won't kick you out." The boy lifted the stylized cow mask off his head and sat it on the bar counter beside him, taking the break in the conversation to sip at his drink. He wiped his mouth afterwards, but while it was happening, Mr Barten finally got a good look at the boy. He was the one that the townspeople had been going on about. Even Cremia had commended him when she'd finally been able to drop off a shipment of milk. He was young, a lot younger than he thought, no more than ten or eleven. His blond hair was swept to the side, most of it tucked in a long, pointy green cap unlike anything he'd seen in Termina. However, the boy carried around a sword and a shield, as well as . . . was that a bag of bombs? What, they sold bombs to just anyone nowadays?! Still, that sword and shield . . . they were no play things. He'd served enough soldiers and travelling mercenaries to know true steel when he saw it. His hands also convinced Mr Barten of the boy's ability to use the weapon. They were callused, a definite mark of regular use. Where did this boy come from?

"What's your name, boy?" Mr Barten finally asked. The kid raised a brow. Mr Barten shrugged. "Hey, if you're old enough to go to a bar, you're old enough to tell a stranger your name." The boy chuckled at that.

Link.

Link. How . . . fitting. "Well, Link, it's nice to meet you." The boy, Link, had a strange reaction to those words. Mr Barten, ever a sharp person, tried to break down the reaction. Shock, confusion, remembrance and . . . sadness? How odd. Still, the bar owner decided not to pry. If the kid wanted to tell him, he would. Until then, Mr Barten was just around to listen.

Link left the bar, thoughtful. Tatl, flying at his side, just over his shoulder, was quiet, surprisingly, considering how she normally couldn't stop talking.

The boy went to his (stolen) room in the Stock Pot Inn, pensively fingering the ocarina in his pocket.

Finally, the silence having driven Tatl crazy, she spoke up.

"Well?"

He always says that it was nice to meet me. Tatl rolled her eyes.

"Because he doesn't remember you!" Link glared. But he stripped off all of his clothes and curled up under the blankets, glad that the fire had been lit. It was always chilly during the night of the second day. "And you're a nice kid," Tatl added under her breath, eliciting a smile from Link who had heard her. "Besides," she added. "You helped Cremia with those stupid wannabe bandits this cycle. Of course he likes you."

He says the moon used to be bright. Luminous.

"It was." Tatl's voice was strained. "Until . . . Skull Kid messed it up." She was sitting on the bed just beside Link's face now. "It was beautiful, really. Wasn't it like that back in Hyrule? Or . . . did you not have a moon?!"

Link shook his head.

"Oh, yeah, you did. You mentioned it a couple of times, I guess." Tatl sighed. "But anyways, now . . . it's not. It's scary. And dark. And menacing. And freaky. And creepy. And eerie. And totally frightening." Link rolled his eyes and snuggled deeper into the covers, thinking about the moon in Hyrule. It was luminous. It had lit his path on many a night. But he simply couldn't imagine the moon in Termina like that. Ever since he came to Termina it had been anything but bright.

But, he knew that Mr Barten wouldn't lie. And neither would Tatl, at least, not anymore.

"Goodnight, Link", she murmured.

Link smiled into his pillow but did not respond. He was just happy that someone was there with him through all these never-ending cycles. Maybe one day he would get there and bring the moon back to what it used to be. Because he realized now that he really missed the normal, unobstructed view of the sky he'd once had in Hyrule. He thought that maybe that was true for the people here in Termina, too.