Part One: Child of Destiny

Chapter 1: Link

You see…when the first baby laughed for the first time,
its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about,
and that was the beginning of fairies.
And so…there ought to be one fairy for every boy and girl.

~J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

In the vast, deep forest of Hyrule, long have I served as the guardian spirit. I am known as the Deku Tree. The children of the forest, the Kokiri, live here with me. Each Kokiri has his or her own guardian fairy. However, there is one boy who does not have a fairy.

Link dueled in his tree house, swinging a branch at his bed, a chair, the table. His face pinched with anger, then gave way to rage, contorting his eyes through a hundred different looks as he told himself again and again that Mido would never get the best of him.

Mido. That pious filth who made his life miserable, who claimed he was the leader of the Kokiri.

Link's head throbbed with exertion. He rolled forward, thrusting at unseen enemies until the branch hit the wall and snapped. He stopped then, pausing to catch his breath and his temper. He was hungry. He hadn't eaten for hours. And it was his birthday.

Oh, yes. It was his twelfth birthday, and it was Mido's birthday, too. How that had happened was anyone's guess. Each year, the two rivals shared one celebration; and each year, Link was forced to live with less than half of the attention.

"Maybe I'll get a fairy this year," Link said aloud, resting on the chair he had swatted. "Maybe I'll run away and find out who I really am." He frowned. "But where would I go?"

The Great Deku Tree's stories were his only hint of the outside world. Tales of kings, queens, and castles had filled his childhood, but he had never ventured outside the forest.

He shrugged. Better not to think about it. It was his birthday, after all.

Fifteen minutes later, Link stepped outside the house's only entrance, gripping a slingshot he had carved from the remnants of the broken branch. Neon orange sunlight sponged through his green tunic, warming his bare legs as they carried him to the balcony's edge, overlooking the forest.

His expression had mellowed slightly, though the sweat from his angry exertions had dried his hair into crispy clumps of blonde. His cheeks, like the rest of his face, had yet to show any sign of acne, but his sapphire eyes were the eyes of a young man twice his age.

He gazed at the other tree houses in the clearing. Most were glorified stumps, hollowed out and filled with the trinkets and furniture that distinguished one child from another. A few, like his, had ladders cobbled from random branches, and some had spiral slopes leading up to a balcony or doorway. But tonight they had one thing in common: they all stood lifeless.

Link's right eyebrow rose with his curiosity. Where had everyone gone? Yes, it was possible some had gone to bed early, but no one—not even his best friend Saria—had yet wished him a happy birthday. She, at least, would have done that by now.

He shrugged, closing a fist around the slingshot as he aimed it at Mido's house, pulled the empty band to its fullest extent, and released it with a snap. Invisible rocks sailed the distance to Mido's house, chipping bark and destroying furniture.

"Ouch!"

Link's hand shot to his ear, slapping away the mosquito that had spoiled his fantasy. He brushed his fingers along the lobe until he felt its sharp point, right where the bug had bitten him. He paused when he saw movement at the far end of the clearing. Saria.

Strapping the slingshot to his belt, he ran to the ladder and descended, jumping when he reached the fifth rung. He sped after his friend, unable to see her but knowing she hadn't gone far. Her giggles led him all the way out of the clearing.

"Saria, stop!" Saria kept going, just out of sight, teasing him with her laughter.

But then he tripped. Right at the edge of another clearing. Right in front of the entire Kokiri tribe.

"Surprise!"

Link remained on the ground as the cheers, laughter, and applause ignited. He watched with burning cheeks as Saria approached, her gentle face seized by mirth.

"Happy birthday, Link!"

Link tried to hide his embarrassment with gratitude as Saria and her friends helped him up. "Thanks, Saria. Thanks everybody!"

Saria laughed. "That was a great look you had on your face—"

"What look?"

"—Even though you weren't surprised."

The cheers grew louder, cutting off his protest. Saria, escorting him to a log facing the Great Deku Tree, seated him before turning to the others and issuing several instructions, giving Link time to observe their preparations for the feast and the bonfire.

His smile faded slightly when, in the instant before the fire erupted, he took in the sight of the other children with their fairies spinning joyfully at their shoulders. His pupils dilated, a sign of something deeper that went unnoticed by all except Saria.He tore his gaze away and looked at the Great Deku Tree.

As dusk hewed the last dregs of evening, the moon's pale light warred with the shadows over Hyrule's greatest field. A man in a red cape stood transfixed on a hill facing east, his eye catching hints of firelight and celebration in the forest, though it was not the Kokiri themselves that had brought him here.

"Your answer," he whispered.

"I have given it. You will never lay hands on the stone."

"Are you certain you can protect it? Can you protect them?"

"Yes."

"You could never repel a physical assault. You are immobile, defenseless."

"There are many elements to a complete victory, only one of which is physical."

"You're right," the man laughed, "but it won't matter when I impale the children on your branches."

A long silence pervaded, broken only by the distant cries of a wolf.

"What do you truly seek, Ganondorf Dragmire? It is not the Stone of the Forest," said the Tree.

The man's smile widened. "Even the sky cannot touch the golden treasure I search for."

"And you believe you will find it?"

"No cost would be too great for such a power."

"Then if such is your declaration, I will tell you mine: no force but the gods themselves could contend with my will to guard the Kokiri!"

The man's smile disappeared, erased by the force of the Tree's outburst. His cheekbones swelled with ill-concealed fury. "So be it."

He turned away from the forest, raising a lone finger in signal. A hiss escaped into the night, and a black shape rose from behind the hill, crawling down into the forest before it vanished completely.

Link lounged on a log by the campfire, savoring a mouthful of Deku Juice along with one last bite of his favorite delicacy, roast Octorok—a dish that was little more than a bed of steamed tentacles topped off by the nostrils of one of Hyrule's ugliest creations.

Saria playfully nudged his ribs. "Had enough?"

"Never." Link wiped his mouth and held out the empty plate. "What's for dessert?"

"I'm glad you asked." She lifted a pan from behind the log, hiding its contents from view. "Close your eyes."

Link obeyed.

Saria speared a slice of brown pie from the pan, supporting its crumbly bottom with her palm as she slid it onto Link's plate. "Have at it."

Link obeyed, and the pie, without the slightest trouble, found its way onto his tongue, melted into his taste buds, and vanished down his throat, leaving only a trace of cream that bled down his chin.

"I made it myself," Saria said, winking as she shared what was left with the other children. Mido, of course, claimed half a pie for himself, forcing everyone else to eat smaller portions.

Returning with an empty pan, Saria waited, nervously clasping her hands. "Well? What did you think?"

"That," said Link, "was the best Skulltula pie I've ever tasted."

Mido's fork clattered on his plate. "Ha! I say it's the best pie ever made in Hyrule!"

Link tensed.

Saria stifled a laugh. "How would you know that, Mido? You've never been outside the forest."

"Doesn't matter." Mido grinned. "You can't get any better than perfect."

Link barely resisted the urge to slingshot his fork up Mido's nose.

When dinner had ended and the stars capped the night sky, the party broke up, and several children went to bed, leaving the few that stayed to their quiet fellowship and a fire in need of fresh kindling.

"So," Saria said, leaning closer, "did you make a wish?"

Link met her gaze, envying the way her emerald hair made her look like a true child of the forest. He nodded.

Her blue eyes twinkled. "And?"

"You'll find out."

"When?"

"Someday."

She sighed. Someone threw a log on the fire, teasing a handful of sparks.

"Actually," said Link, "I was hoping I'd get a fairy this year."

Saria blinked. "That was your wish?"

"No. I mean yeah…well…sort of. That's not what I wished for, but I was hoping it might happen anyway."

"Why?"

Now it was his turn to sigh. "You know why. Without a fairy, they'll never accept me as a true Kokiri."

"That's not true." Her frown outmatched his gloom. "Besides, that's not what I meant. Why should it matter in the first place? Being a Kokiri is about more than having a fairy; it's about our relationship with the Great Deku Tree."

A soft note echoed from a violin, signaling the dance.

Link took Saria's hand. "You're right," he said. "Let's forget about it."

With the last of the partygoers, they stood and surrounded the musicians. Neither was especially good at dancing—Saria was a little better than Link—but they had learned to avoid stepping on each other's toes. Together, they spun to the rhythm of the mellow waltz waxing into the twilight.

"Don't worry, Link." Saria rested her head on his shoulder. "You'll get a fairy someday."

Link didn't answer, but glanced at the stars as he imagined the world outside the forest. What was it like to stand at the top of a mountain, he wondered, or swim to the bottom of the sea? If he ever met those kings and queens, if he ever had the chance to explore a castle, what would he do? What would he say to them?

Saria shrugged at his silence and lapsed into her own thoughts. It would be a long night.

The musicians played for nearly an hour, teasing strings and goading melodies with instruments formed from the Great Deku Tree's wood. Their faces were covered by giant leaves with holes for the eyes, nose, and mouth. Link watched their movement while he danced, noting that one end of the lead violinist's bow formed a sharp point, forcing the boy to guard his fingers when he handled it to avoid a splinter—or worse.

"You're slowing." He broke from his thoughts and leaned in toward Saria. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head but said nothing.

"Was it my whining?"

"It was nothing you did," she said.

"Then what?"

"I've just got this feeling."

He smiled, enjoying the respite from his own worries. "Explain, please."

"You know how when the Great Deku Tree talks about good and evil, he says that you can always tell the difference between them if you're honest with yourself?"

Link remembered those talks. "Yeah."

"Well, the feeling I get during his stories is the same feeling I have now."

"You think there's evil in the forest?"

"I don't know."

"Then—"

Saria's fairy shrieked. "Watch out!"

The music stopped abruptly. Everyone stood still. Tracing her fairy's flight, Saria pointed upward, her face drained of all color. "Look!"

A massive tail, barely visible in the firelight, drooped through the Deku Tree's branches, its tip dripping venom into the fire.

"Children…run!"

The Tree's warning came in tandem with the egg, a slime-dappled orb that dropped from below the tail and landed in the fire, its husk melting away before the children had time to avoid the sparks sent flying by its arrival.

Jet black skin crackled in the flames. An armless body surrounded a single eye with two clumsy legs and a pair of antennae writhing out above the head.

Saria screamed. Link pushed her aside, taking them both out of the monster's path.

"Mido!"

Link's voice broke the spell that had rooted his rival in place. Mido turned and ran just as the monster charged forward.

Link scooped a stone from the ground and pulled his slingshot from his belt, but the monster, despite an awkward waddling gait, was fast. Before he could let off a shot, it threw itself on top of him, bringing him down.

Saria started to rise from her place.

"No, stay back!" Link winced under the strain of the monster's muscular weight on his back.

A branch cracked on the monster's head. Mido, tossing the two pieces, grabbed the hatchling's antennae and wrenched them to either side, just as the monster stood and began to thrash about.

Link, freed from all constraint, sprang up and latched onto the monster's leg, bracing himself against a log as he pulled upward, trying to topple his foe—and Mido.

"Mido…duck!"

The shout caused Mido to lose his grip on the antennae. He fell, narrowly avoiding the lead musician's encore—the violin bow, shot from its strings like an arrow. The bow sank into the monster's back, tearing through to the retina. Then, the boy tossed his instrument to Link, who caught it by the neck and whacked it across the monster's eye.

The monster reeled. Its eye bled on the dirt as it stumbled into the fire screaming. Link snatched up his slingshot and the stone he had dropped, pulled the band, and let fly. The rock clapped against the bleeding retina, knocking the monster onto its back.

The eye exploded, showering the bystanders with pale body fluids and splinters from the fire. Link, drenched by the onslaught, collapsed in a writhing heap with a splinter buried in his elbow.

Ignoring the splinters in her hand, Saria dashed from behind a log, grabbed several cups left by the partygoers, and poured the last of the Deku Juice on Link's face. Most of the fiery liquid was washed off; the rest soon became docile, leaving minor burns that would disappear from his skin in a day or two.

Saria tried to swallow her grief; she barely kept from collapsing with Link.

"How could this happen?" she said. "We've always been safe. Oh, Link…!"

Her eyes brimmed over, but she forced herself on, dimly aware of the first fat raindrop on her shoulder as she tore Link's tunic down to the waist. Then more wet drops fell on her shoulders and her head, joining countless others that splattered the dry ground into cesspools of mud and ash.

The fire sputtered and died, and darkness took over. The stars had grown dimmer, but Saria disregarded all in her quest to save Link; for though his wounds were hardly serious, the trauma of the monster's arrival had driven her to a state of confusion.

"It's just a dream," she said. "This isn't real." Clenching fistfuls of mud and grass in her search for a salve for Link's wounds, she continued muttering to soothe her own inner turmoil.

A soft wind lifted her hair from her shoulders. She looked up to find dozens of leaves trickling from the Great Deku Tree's branches. Acting on instinct, she cupped her hand around the first few that landed, crushing them.

When she opened her palm to the rain, the drops soaked into the crushed leaves, forming a mound of soggy flora that eased the pain in her hand. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she realized that the Great Deku Tree's leaves had carried such properties all along. It was only now that the true power of his leaves became evident, since no Kokiri had ever sustained an injury dire enough to require this healing.

Flipping her hand, she rubbed the balm into the burns on Link's chest and watched his eyes flicker beneath their lids.

"Thank you," she whispered, glancing up at the Tree before she picked up Link's body and carried him into the woods.

Link awoke on a tree stump, sore and shocked when he remembered what had happened. He panicked at first, flopping from side to side, moaning as he felt the burns, grunting as he tried to rise, and calming only when he recognized his surroundings and realized that no monster would have ever thought to carry him here.

This was his sanctuary: an empty clearing except for the stump and a handful of old stone ruins. Two pillars, cloaked by trees and ivy at the clearing's edge, shadowed a wall in desperate need of repair. On the other side of the stump, near the center of the clearing, a small pedestal rose from the grass.

To this day, Link had no idea where the ruins had come from, and the Great Deku Tree had never answered his questions about them.

"Hey."

He glanced upward, surrendering to fatigue as Saria's hand touched his shoulder and lowered him back down to the stump. "Saria. How did we get here?"

"I carried you," she replied.

"All the way from the clearing?"

"I'm a girl. That doesn't mean I'm a weakling."

His chest heaved with laughter, and then he stopped suddenly. "The others?"

"A few burns, but nothing serious. At least on the outside."

"And you?"

Her chin fell slightly, bringing her eyes into the moonlight. Tears stained her cheeks, her nose, and her mouth. Her neckline was soaked. "I've cried more in the last few hours," she said, "than I have in my entire life."

"Some night."

"You could say that." She sighed. "I think somehow I knew what was going to happen."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't want to admit it, but I was uneasy even before you chased me into the clearing. When the monster showed up, it didn't even surprise me."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"It was your birthday." She cracked a smile. "It's still your birthday. I didn't want to ruin it over a feeling."

Link nodded and closed his eyes. "I appreciate it, but if you ever feel that way again, do me a favor."

"What?"

"Let me know right away."

"Okay."

For several minutes, they allowed the night creatures to take over their conversation, chirping happily as if unaware of the evil descending on their home. Saria laid her head on Link's shoulder, careful to avoid pressing his burns. Her fairy drifted by her side, barely noticed, but still a significant presence.

"By the way," Link said, "thanks for setting everything up tonight."

Her brows furrowed. "How did you know it was me?"

"Don't pretend. You're one of the few that would think of doing it."

"What are you saying?"

"I told you: I see how the others look at me. I'm not a true Kokiri to any of them."

Saria jerked from his shoulder, her cheeks turning red as she shot to her feet. "That's not true!"

The emotion in her reply alarmed them both. Link stared, his lips parted in silence. An awkward pause stole the words he had meant to say.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to yell."

He shook his head. "It's okay."

"No it's not. I shouldn't have done that."

"But you weren't angry with me."

"You're right. I'm angry that there should be any reason for you to feel like an outsider."

"Mido will always treat me like one, even if I do get a fairy."

"It doesn't matter." She stooped to her knees, keeping the rift in his tunic from being blown open by the cold night wind. "I never will."

"Thank you." He stretched his arms and rolled off the side of the stump, lowering himself to the ground with his hands. "Could you help me back to the village? I think my eyelids are gaining more weight than my stomach."

"No."

He turned to look at her. "No?"

"I have something to show you first."

She pulled a carefully wrapped package from the weeds near the stump, holding it in both hands as she placed it in Link's outstretched arms. His eyes held hers as he tried to unravel her strange actions.

"Open it," she said.

His fingers tore rents in the paper's thick layers, exposing a common Deku Shield as he removed the last few scraps.

Saria smiled at his befuddled expression. "Turn it over."

Like the instruments at the dance, Deku Shields were made from the wood of the Great Deku Tree. Most Kokiri owned one of these shields, and this one even had a red carving on the front made by the owner of the Kokiri Shop. The initials carved on the back, however—those of Saria and Link—were not a typical feature.

"I didn't know you still had this," Link said, his eyes welling up as he remembered the day he had given this shield to Saria as a birthday present.

"I somehow felt that I should give it to you tonight," she said.

"Is that another one of your feelings?"

"Maybe. I just didn't want to wait and risk losing the chance."

Link put an arm around her shoulder and hugged her. "Thanks, Saria. For everything."

She nodded, sniffing as she helped him to the edge of the clearing. "Let's go home."

Trading one last hug, Saria and Link parted, she to climb the hill to her tree house, he to mount the ladder that would take him to his. Neither had said a word as they came into the village. Even so, each had sensed the fear in the other, as if they knew that everything had changed but were slow to grasp the full significance of what had happened at the party.

Am I getting my wish already? This isn't the way I wanted it to happen. These were Link's thoughts as he entered his house to find it just the same, with one glaring exception.

A stick-figure drawing had been burned into the wall over the bed with a flaming branch; it showed Mido, gloating over the hatchling's body, and Link, dead just a few feet away.

Link stood for a moment in disbelief, tempted to rush straight over to Mido's house for a rude discussion. His anger soon faded, though, tempered by his desire for sleep. He could always hit Mido later.

Placing the Deku Shield by the wall, he slipped under the covers of his log bed and sunk, ill at ease, into a frightful dream of the future.