Author's Note: And so Link finally makes his entrance...enjoy.
Chapter Three
Awareness
(Vijnana)
The bell clamored as the door opened for the dozenth time that afternoon, and Doran frowned at the counter before him. While he knew he should have been grateful for the business, few of the customers had actually bought anything, and half of them had been unable to see past his unusual features in order to even browse his shop. He might have been offended if he hadn't found their ridiculously overwrought reactions to be so amusing. And he knew that his goods were rare enough that he could get by with only selling a handful of items a week anyway.
"I'll be with you in a moment," he said crisply without looking up from the sword he was polishing, seeing no reason to be polite when his customers never were.
The customer entered, catching the door to prevent it from clanging noisily shut behind him. He did not respond to the greeting or make any noise at all other than a few soft footfalls as he crossed the room, but something in Doran's chest clenched suddenly and quite unexpectedly at his approach causing him to glance up sharply. He recognized the sensation immediately and felt the fate pull him inexorably along his usual course, hatred bubbling up inside of him like a geyser from a parched spring.
Dusty blond hair shadowed a chiseled, youthful face so delicate it could have belonged to a female. The boy's bright blue eyes scanned the shop in awe, sincerity in its purest form peering out of those orbs as he smiled with a childlike innocence and approached the counter.
Unable to hold back a sneer, Doran's hands tightened on the blade he had been polishing. He realized now that he had been secretly hoping that the Hero would not appear in time—that he might not have fulfilled all of the obligations in his previous life that would allow him to be reborn in time for the next loop of their ritual. Zelda had awakened Doran's anger, but it was Link who caused his hatred to burn again as if it had never died away. How many times had this naïve fool destroyed all of his plans by mere chance?
He was weary of the game, and yet part of him hungered for one last try. It was habit, he knew. But how could he look at his frustratingly pure nemesis without wishing for the ability to destroy him? Link's ignorance of their history only made the loathing that much harder to ignore. Every time he was forced to look this fresh, young fool in the eyes and know that he would have a tireless vitality that could only come from the ability to wash his soul clean with every turning of the wheel. Doran had experience on his side, but his weariness shackled him further with every iteration of the cycle.
"Can I help you?" Doran asked through gritted teeth.
"I'm looking for a shield," the young man said with an unassuming smile.
Doran's eyes sharpened as he noticed the hilt of the sword peeking up over one green-clad shoulder; he didn't have to study it long to make sense of the carving on the pommel. How long at the boy been on his journey already if he had discovered that sword?
"How is this?" Doran asked, pulling a wooden shield off of the shelf behind him. The crest of Hyrule was carved into the surface and the wood was polished to a fine sheen, but Link's eyes only grazed it before looking back up at the shelf.
"How much for that one?" he asked, pointing at the heavy shield that Doran had been hoping to avoid giving him, if only to make his quest a fraction more difficult.
Glancing up at the shield and back to the bright eyes blinking at him guilelessly, Doran said, "Five hundred rupees."
The boy nodded briefly and reached for the coin purse hanging from his belt.
Doran raised an eyebrow as the boy counted out his payment, wondering if he was spending all of his money on this one item. If he had been honest, he should have charged him less—or the boy should have at least made an attempt to haggle with him—but Link was not one to question anyone's motives until they had proven themselves a threat. The fact that he had managed to survive long enough to defeat him in the past was all the more stunning considering his gullible nature.
"Thank you," Link smiled as he took up the shield triumphantly and fastened it on his back along with the sword.
"That's some serious equipment for someone so inexperienced," Doran noted cuttingly. "You're liable to lop off an arm with a blade like that."
Link gave him a sidelong glance as he tightened the strap that traversed his chest and held the weaponry in place, a hint of suspicion entering his eyes.
Before he could respond, the bell rang loudly and the door opened again to admit the third member of their eternal dance. "Master Doran!" Zelda cried as she entered, drawing back only when she saw Link standing next to the counter.
Ever since his uncharacteristically selfless gesture on her behalf, Zelda had begun visiting his shop regularly—though her father no longer allowed her to wander the streets of the city without a retinue of soldiers. She would purchase various items—though he was certain she had no need of them—and exchange news with him as if they were friends. Because he had accepted what he had to do in regards to her, he allowed her to believe that he had forgiven her and refrained from pushing her away. He was beginning to have reservations now that he understood how much he still had to sacrifice before he could be free of the cycle.
Doran had been so distracted by Link that he hadn't even sensed her approaching, but now he could feel the Triforce humming through his veins in response to their proximity just as he had sensed Link's true identity. Covering his hand as he saw a faint glimmer beginning to glow on his skin, he watched Zelda as she focused on Link, her lips parting slightly and one of her hands clenching in her skirts. Link was clearly just as uncomfortable, a faint blush coloring his cheeks and his eyes wide as he regarded her. They were nearly the same age this time around, and Doran could tell that they were feeling more than the insistent pull of the Triforce between them.
Returning her gaze to Doran though her eyes periodically found their way back to Link, she crossed the room. "Have you heard what's happened?" she asked, clutching her white-gloved hands before her.
Doran inclined his head, frowning as Link continued to stare rather boldly at the princess, his hands frozen on the strap across his chest.
"Kakariko village has burned to the ground," Zelda continued and Link flinched, looking down at his feet. Doran found the reaction odd and wondered if the boy had already been aware of the incident.
"Any idea what happened?" he asked.
"There were marks scrawled over the doors that looked exactly like the insignia that the assassin who attacked me had been wearing."
"There are also foul creatures in the north," Link offered in a quiet voice, "and the bridge has been destroyed."
Zelda blinked at him in surprise and they exchanged another uncomfortably intense gaze.
"How do you know all of that, boy?" Doran asked gruffly, only barely restraining the temptation to roll his eyes when they both jumped.
Link swallowed uncertainly and said, "I came from a village north of Kakariko. It was attacked by the creatures and I was sent to carry word to the king."
Her eyes glowing with a sickening ray of hope, Zelda regarded Link more closely, her gaze passing thoughtfully over his weapons and green tunic. Doran knew she was wondering if Link was the legendary Hero reborn again and he hated that she was right. The people of Hyrule had been waiting desperately for their fabled Hero, and against all odds they had gotten him. But it seemed that this time another conqueror was the enemy since Doran had refused to play the game.
The door slammed back against the wall and the bell crashed loudly. "Princess!" a soldier cried with a panicked expression as he stepped into the store. "We need to return to the castle at once. Your brother has been kidnapped!"
"P-princess?" Link colored again and looked away.
Zelda missed his reaction, lost in thought as she took in this new information. "We must hurry," she said with that forced calm that Doran had watched her learn to summon when needed over the last few months. "Come with us," she added, her eyes darting back toward Link. "You must give your report to father." Then, looking back over her shoulder, she said, "Good day, Master Doran," and followed the soldier out the door.
Taking a deep breath, Link followed after her and the door closed again with another clatter of the bell.
Doran shook his head. The pattern was in motion and he knew that he would have to get himself entwined within the threads if he was to ever break the cycle. But this time, he would be weaving the pattern from the opposite side. Gall rose in his throat at the prospect, but he swallowed it along with his pride.
This turning of the wheel would be the last.
