The Yarshalan Marshes
by Wyna Hiros
Disclaimers: I don't own Zelda 64 or the characters (Nintendo does): no money is made off this. This story, and any/all original side-characters and monsters, however, are my property and may not be used without my permission. If you'd like to archive it (or whatever), please see the contact information in my profile.
Notes: Er, major, major liberties ahead. Namely I made Hyrule much larger: safe to assume that what you saw in the game was only a part of the entire world.
The Yarshalan Marshes
I watched the moon set from the doorway of the Temple of Time. Watched it crawl across the star-flooded sky, sometimes obscured by clouds, almost seeming to drown them...
But always making progress, inch by painfully slow inch, towards its inevitable destination.
Impa's words were on my mind, and I mulled over them. The fact that she and the other Sages'd actually sensed something.. Even more disturbing was the news that they hadn't heard from the Three. I found it hard to believe that their only order from Them would be to just sit by and wait during all this: they certainly hadn't done so four years ago.
But Impa would never lie to me, regardless of our opposing beliefs.
The moon was nearing the horizon now when the messenger found me. I saw him coming up the path, a look on his face that clearly said that he would've rather preferred not to come near the deteriorating Temple. As he drew closer, the expression changed, swinging to surprise - apparently he hadn't expected to find me here.
"Yes?"
He stopped on the crumbling steps. "Her Highness told me that I'd find you here..." Although he managed to wipe the look from his face, he failed to hide the disbelief in his voice. "She asked me to send word to you that she's seen personally to the preparations, and that you are to leave for Kakariko. She says that you are to meet with her chosen soldiers there and proceed with her command."
I finally looked away from the sinking moon. "And what of Her Highness?" I asked.
The boy blinked. "I'm sure she'll be fine, sir. I mean, there's plenty of guards here, right?"
I frowned behind the face cover at this, but had to let it go. "Alright. Please tell her Highness that it will be done. I'll leave immediately."
He bowed and left, hurrying away from what probably looked like a cursed place. I remained where I was for a few minutes, idling even though I'd said otherwise. I reached out and touched the wind-worn sides of one of the shrine's supports, for what could be the last time if I failed: we would probably be heading out into the fringes of the kingdom, possibly even beyond.
The chances of surviving tended to become much less as the distance from central Hyrule grew.
I rode out of the main gates, a little before the break of dawn. In the distance, I could just barely make out Lon Lon Ranch, the torches winking out one by one as morning approached, its inhabitants already awake and working.
It felt good to be out of the castle. It had been a long time since I'd felt the wind on my face like this, seeing the ground flash underneath my horse's hooves, with all Hyrule open to me. No longer did I have to worry about confining walls, proper protocol and petitioners. I had a greater purpose, a greater goal other than to solve a dispute between quarreling neighbors.
And it felt good.
I could see the carved stone steps - leading to Kakariko - through the morning mist, growing closer and closer with each yard. The mare I had chosen, while no Sheikah war-horse, was making good time.
Morning was not far behind me: I could see the telltale orange glow from behind Death Mountain as I dismounted, and carefully lead the mare up the long flight of stairs. It took some time, but I didn't want to risk my only mount mis-stepping and breaking a leg just because of impatience.
The sun'd just begun to peek out, a tiny sliver of fire above the horizon line, by the time we made it to the top. I led the mare to the public stables (already filled - I noticed right away that several of the horses bore the crest of the Royal Family), and tied the reins to one of the posts, heading over to the only bar/inn that Kakariko had managed to rebuild.
The inn was one of the few buildings in all of Kakariko proper that had managed to escape the Dark One's reign fairly unscathed. However powerful he'd been, even the Black King knew that it was foolish to leave an occupying army unhappy. He had spared the inn, but hadn't shone the same mercy on the rest of the town. Aside from the inn, only the graveyard had been left untouched.
I pushed open the heavy oak doors. From the looks of it, the town was still not quite awake: with my exception, only a few of the early-risers were up and about the common room. I headed over to the bar, and leaned against it, intending to wait. The bartender, a fairly young woman (at least five years younger than me) flounced over to take my order; water, even if I was going to have to pay for it - I knew better than to travel Hyrule under the influence.
I looked at the clock as she left. I hadn't missed the appreciative look she'd thrown my way, nor was it welcome. I could only hope that my assigned companions would hurry and wake up, as I didn't look forward to gawky stares from the barmaid.
Unfortunately, I ended up waiting a few hours, more and more people straggling down for breakfast. I found myself engaged in a rather one-sided ( the older woman seemed content to just be able complain to someone about her husband) conversation, all the while feeling the bartender's eyes sliding over towards me every now and then.
It was late morning when they came down. By now, the woman'd left me, finding a better audience with one of the waitresses, leaving me alone with my barely-touched water. I heard someone coming down the stairs- rather loudly- and then;
A heavy hand fell on my shoulder, and roughly spun me around.
I felt my eyes begin to narrow almost immediately at this unwelcome surprise, and a rare look of annoyance crossed my half-hidden face - one that was equally mirrored in the hand's owner as we stared at each other in dislike.
/Nolan./
/Why'd it have to be him?/
A cousin of the Captain of the Guard, and just as unfortunately, quickly becoming a force to be reckoned with in the ranks of the Her Highness' guards. He was a little older than me, and much, much larger: as a soldier under the Royal Family's command, strength, rather than speed, was emphasized.
/I should've known. After all, he's one of Her Majesty's favorites.../
Almost as soon as the movement had ended, I brushed his hand off me. The scowl on his face grew, his gray eyes unable to stifle the obvious distaste.
Even after years of service to the Her Highness, many of the guards still didn't trust me, didn't trust what they considered to be moral-less wanderers. Nolan just happened to be the more vocal out of all of them.
"Well, if it isn't the Queen's royal lapdog," he bit out lowly.
I forced myself to keep calm, and stare at him levelly. "I see you've been assigned to her command for this."
"What, you mean this crazy little 'mission'? Travel east and get rid of this little 'harbringer' whenever we find it?" he snorted derisively. "You know, I think Queenie's finally lost it."
He immediately found himself pulled up close against me by the collar; to the sleepy common room, it must've looked like two lovers suddenly sharing a tender moment. The folds of his cloak hid the fact from the rest of the room that he suddenly found a knife, cruelly jagged and curved in the Sheikah fashion, at his throat, pressing just hard enough to barely escape drawing blood.
"Don't ever speak so rudely of the Queen. You will speak of her as 'Her Highness' or 'Her Majesty'," I murmured coldly.
He just glared at me, the dislike only growing even stronger. After a moment, I released him, flicking the blade out of sight and looked away, as the rest of his companions came down. Out of the three of the newcomers, only one I recognized - Marcus, a bearded man in his early fifties, and to my knowledge, the one with the most years of service to Her Majesty.
While I knew that he didn't approve of me, he tended to be the more level-headed.
I looked over at the other two, and winced. I could tell from just looking at them, from the way they carried themselves to the way they stared at me openly, that these were fairly new recruits. The kind that shouldn't be on this kind of assignment so early. But as much as I disliked the arrangement, they were here to stay. They joined us, and Marcus held out his hand with a polite smile, which I shook - the movement was brief and clipped, but I found this kind of polite tolerance much easier to take than Nolan's outright aversion.
"Good to have you on our side for this," said Marcus.
"The same," I answered, just as neutrally, my eyes flicking to the two next to him. Marcus followed the glance.
"Reln and Terin." They were still staring at me. I gave them a slight nod, before looking back to Marcus.
"I assume you've taken care of your supplies then?" I asked. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a flash of irritation pass over Nolan's face at seemingly being brushed aside.
Marcus nodded, "Aye, we've already seen to it. I take it we're leaving immediately?"
"As soon as possible would be best--" And I was interrupted, by a red-faced Nolan.
"Who do you think you are, ordering us around?" he cut in. "We're the ones who slave away, day in and day out, while you just sit back at the castle - why the hell should we have to listen to a little lapdog like you?"
I said nothing to this - however false these accusations were, there wasn't a point in trying to refute them: he clearly believed them, and my response would only make it worse.
He leaned close, glaring down at me."You know, if it weren't for us keeping order, you'd have been run out with the rest of your scum long before the Hero of Time came!"
My mouth twitched at just the mention of Link.
"Now that's not true-" Marcus started. Already, several people were starting to look our way.
"If I recall correctly, it was 'our scum' that saved you all when the Dark One stormed the Temple of Time," I said quietly. "But perhaps you've forgotten that: seven years spent in hiding tends to flash by, doesn't it?"
Nolan's scowl grew even more.
Marcus stepped in, trying to diffuse the already tense situation, "This is probably best discussed outside."
However polite this was, his tone left no room for protests.
Once outside, Reln produced a map of Hyrule, though it had the worn look of one much used: likely a gift from his training officer. Both Reln and Terin had remained silent during the cold exchange in the bar, and from the way they avoided looking or talking to me, they were already intimidated.
I gave a mental sigh and knelt down by Reln as he spread the map across the dirt, the soldier taking time to mark our position.
"So we're going east?" Terin asked.
I nodded, though it was Marcus who spoke up: "There're some towns on the other side of Death Mountain. We should stop by and see if we can pick up any hints, anything useful."
Reln made two more marks on the map at the elder soldier's indication.
I saw Marcus, out of the corner of my eye, turn and look at Nolan. "So that's settled?"
All he got was a grudging and terse, "Fine."
Shortly after, I headed over to the stables to check on the mare, the others leaving to attend to last minute affairs.
...Only to find Nolan waiting for me, standing next to my horse, mailed arms crossed over his chest and an ugly look on his face.
"Can I help you?" I asked, barely managing to keep the strain from my voice. He was standing in my way, and didn't budge - I ended up brushing my way past him to slip in next to my mount.
"I don't know what it is you're planning, but if you think you're going to drag us around like this, then you're in for a rude awakening..." Nolan started angrily.
And that's when I realized it - the reason why he'd waited to get me alone.
/He feels his leadership is threatened by me./
This revelation was not a welcome one. Nolan was known to make some less than wise decisions, known to have acted rashly due to his impatience. I'd found it out firsthand during the Dark Years. I trusted myself to make better judgments, but if anything, I knew that that would only make this whole situation worse.
/Any further conflict would divide the group./
And that would severely hinder accomplishing this task. That in itself was unacceptable.
I looked away, my attention focused on tightening one of the Sheikah buckles on the mare's saddle, "I'm not planning anything: I'm only following Her Majesty's orders," I hesitated for a brief moment, and then: "And I don't plan on dragging anyone anywhere...sir."
I saw him, at the edge of my vision, start to open his mouth to snap back at me, only to shut it almost immediately and look at me suspiciously, as it dawned on him: instead of insisting on leading the group, I'd just submitted and offered him leadership.
The glower darkened, but he said nothing, and turned away to saddle up his own horse, as the other rejoined us.
It took us over three days to cross Death Mountain. Three days, and the volcano was ominously silent as we carefully guided the horses through the winding passes, the ever-present ring of ash lazily circling the summit seeming even blacker than the dark ages before.
No sounds of rock-crunching, of the earth rumbling under Goron feet.
Silence.
It was more than eerie, and Terin complained loudly about this. Death Mountain - to all appearances - seemed abandoned, though once or twice while scouting ahead for the group, I'd catch tiny glimpses of gentle brown eyes peering at us from the craggy overhangs above.
As soon as I caught the stares, they would vanish almost immediately.
I said nothing of this to the rest of the group. While Death Mountain was not as deserted as it seemed, we were clearly not welcome here.
It was at the third day, as we stopped to let the horses refresh themselves at a small spring, when Reln brought out the map again to verify our position. He seemed troubled, hunched over the map he'd laid out on the rock, making scattered marks, corrections and erasures on the map. Every now and then, he'd look up for one of the others: however, they'd scattered somewhat around the trail, Terin and Nolan both in fairly foul moods after a small disagreement earlier.
"This doesn't seem right," he finally broke the silence. All of our eyes turned towards Reln, who was frowning back down at the map. I stood up, and joined him along with Marcus, kneeling down by his side.
He pointed, at a large blank area, on the parchment. "Our path, as it is now, would lead us through this blank area," he paused, looking perplexed. "I don't understand. I'm almost certain that this was supposed to be a completed map."
I tilted the map towards me a little, and regarded the blank area. "...It's blank for a reason."
Reln looked at me in surprise, Marcus's attention remaining on the map. I continued, indicating the region with a bandaged finger. "If I'm right...the reason it's blank is because it's never been explored successfully. I believe this region is the Yarshalan Marshes."
"Oh really? And just how do you know this?" Nolan was suddenly standing above us, his tone suspicious.
"The fact that what should be a standard issue Hylian map is incomplete would be one hint - people have entered the area, but never made it past the borders: it's obviously very dangerous. I know for certain that it's swampland from the few times I've seen it from afar. And..." And now it was my turn to hesitate, knowing what I had to say next .
"Well?" he pressed.
"There was once a folklore among my people, of a race of creatures who lived on Death Mountain long ago," I slowly said. "My ancestors called them the Yarshalan, or 'man-slayers': they were man-eaters, masters of camouflage, wild and savage in their ways, in the way of a mindless hunter. The mountain was unapproachable for thousands of years, because of this."
I could feel Nolan's scowl growing. Reln pressed on, eyes wide. "And?"
"And the Gorons came, and the Yarshalan were driven off their mountain. In the end, they retreated to the wastelands beyond Death Mountain, where they vanished," I finished.
For a moment, silence.
"And you're suggesting... what?" Nolan asked dryly.
I looked him in the eye. "This doesn't feel right. We must go around."
Nolan's face only darkened even more, and he looked down at the map. "From the looks of it, it would be faster to just go through it. Are you suggesting that we take a longer route just because of some foolish Sheikah wives' tales?"
/We shouldn't go this way./
I was not being superstitious. Even if it was something else and not Yarshalan, the swamp was too dangerous to cross. Ever since Reln had pointed out the uncharted mass at Death Mountain's base, something inside had begun nagging at me, with the warning that this was a place that should not be entered. I knew this almost inner-tingling from memory: my intuition had saved me countless times before.
/We can't go this way./
The others were looking at me, even Terin from across the path.
"No, sir," I finally said with some difficulty, swallowing down my original response and looking away. "I just think we should be cautious about entering the area."
His eyes narrowed, the dislike growing, changing into something even darker. But he held his tongue and changed the subject, snapping at everyone to get ready to continue. I could feel him staring at my back as I stood up.
A day later, the edges of a swampland began to appear. The air was growing more and more humid as we left the Mountain, reeds and blackened grass beginning to appear more frequently. The ground suddenly changed from the firm stone of Death Mountain to yielding peat and soil. It was here that my horse balked suddenly, nearly throwing me off: it was only my quick reflexes that allowed me to grab the reins and hold on enough to control her. But no matter how I urged her, she refused to go further, sides shivering and her ears flat against her skull.
The others'd stopped by now and Nolan came up along me as I began to dismount and transfer the lightest, most necessary supplies over to carry myself.
"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
I grabbed the reins, "Releasing her. There's no point in trying to force her to enter. She'll be more a hindrance than help in here."
Nolan sneered. "Aren't all Sheikah war-horses supposed to be fearless?"
Not bothering to correct him, I landed a fairly tame blow against the mare's rump, and she took off galloping, in the opposite direction.
"Sir, with all due respect, being fearless and being wise are two different things entirely." I said. My eyes flicked towards his horse. "And I would suggest doing the same. With all that armor, they may be weighed down."
He laughed it off, humorlessly. "I don't think so." And now his tone grew colder. "We carry on."
The day grew longer as Nolan lead the way, and the afternoon arrived, the air blistering and almost crackling with heat as we trudged deeper and deeper into the swamplands, the sky becoming overcast, almost black with ash from Death Mountain. Already, we'd nearly lost a horse in the bogs: Reln and I had managed to rescue it in time from the unstable ground after hearing its panicked squeal.
I couldn't help but notice that as we journeyed deeper into the wasteland, all of their mounts' eyes began to widen and roll a little, with increased distress.
/They can sense it too../
The realization did not make me feel any less anxious.
Several more hours passed, with evening fast approaching. After nearly losing two more horses, I'd been commanded to switch places and guide the group through. We were not quite in the heart of the marshes, the sun beginning to vanish behind the distant forest. I was beginning to feel ill from the fumes the swamp was giving off, but I said nothing of it as I carefully found ground sturdy enough to take on the combined weight of a horse and solder.
But we were making progress now, and no longer did I hear the sound of a horse suddenly mired in a bog up to their knees. It was growing slightly cooler as well, as the day drew to a close: the sky above us only grew darker, black as pitch, the moon and the stars drowned out.
I managed to find a fairly secure "clearing": some dirt patches, scattered boulders, and patches of reeds and grass that were oddly springy to the the slightest touch and gave off a foul, rotting stench - I'd seen many of these mounds throughout the day's travel. I made a face at this, but from what I could see in the fading light, this was the only solid enough area for miles around that was large enough to take the entire group.
The horses were limping now, and stopped near one of the mounds, huddled painfully, their heads half lowered with weariness. My companions dismounted, their movements also stiff. I took the time to set my things down before taking off to find anything suitable for firewood.
I came back twenty minutes later with a fairly large bundle of weeds: I'd found them growing around the surrounding bogs, the cesspools all but covered over with a deceptively solid blanket of sickly-green mist. Immediately I started a small fire, wordlessly, taking care to keep it confined and as smokeless as possible. The burning weeds smelled foul, but I doubted it could overpower the stench of the swamps. Marcus had taken a tumble into one of the bogs when his horse had fallen in earlier, and I knew that, if left unattended, he could grow sick over night.
The colder, more efficient side of me would not allow that, as it would only impede Her Highness' command.
He scooted up closer with a mumbled "thanks", soon followed by Terin and Reln: the two looked even more miserable than Marcus. I took my place, somewhat farther from the fire, half-perched on a boulder; I was too much on edge to sleep here.
A few minutes had passed when they began to warm up and settle down, and try to fill the silence with idle conversation. I didn't participate, intent on the marshes around. Every little sound, every little bubble and belch from the land that spewed more miasma out into the air... I listened to them all, carefully reading them for the sign of a threat. I closed my eyes, trying to pick the night sounds apart, frowning a little behind the face cover.
There was this almost fleshy noise from beyond the mist, of something slithering unevenly across the swamps. And it bothered me. I concentrated on that one sound, trying to identify it, slowly shutting off all others from around me...
My eyes snapped open as the moment was shattered, at a forced and overly loud laugh followed by a question from Terin across the clearing. The near-silence I'd been on the verge of vanished, the night flooding back, and the worrying noise from before all but drowned out by the marshes around us.
I sighed mentally. "What?"
Terin repeated his question, hesitantly. "Um, what about you? Is there anyone waiting for you when this all over? Family?"
"No. Nearly all of them were wiped out by the plague. I haven't heard from the survivors since."
"You know, they probably went the way your little 'friends' went when they left her Majesty," Nolan said, either missing or ignoring the warning glare from Marcus.
I stood up slowly, jaw set to keep my emotions under control, unable to take any more of this.
"Where're you going?" Marcus asked.
"I'd just like some time alone," was my terse reply.
I managed to get several feet away from the makeshift clearing when Nolan grabbed me by the shoulder and forced me to face him. The firelight was behind him, practically obscuring his face but I knew that he was scowling down at me.
"If you think I'm stupid enough to let you go off alone like that, you're dead wrong," he growled. Nolan leaned in closer and I could see the barely concealed hatred in his eyes. "I know you're planning something: I'm sure you'd love the excuse to run off and join the rest of your traitorous friends."
"I have no intention of doing so," I said. "I'm only-"
He cut me off, "'Carrying out her Highness' orders'? Like a good little puppydog? That's what you'd like all of us to believe."
"What are you implying?"
"You're orchestrating all of this. You Sheikah've always been manipulating sons of bitches. Always on your own little agenda." He was growing louder, his tone nasty. "Just know this; if you double-cross us, I will make sure that you regret it."
The air was beginning to get more humid and foul, the mist more dense. Oddly enough, I was beginning to catch odd flashes, of almost shimmering specks, akin to sparks, begin to almost dance in the air around the camp.
My eyes narrowed and returned to Nolan, my voice deadly calm. "Is that a threat, sir?"
Whatever he said next, I missed completely, my glance flicking back to see Reln and Terrin standing up, looking around in wonder at the sparkling particles beyond the clearing, and I managed to catch the word "...Fairies!" drift back.
My stomach grew cold at those words, and I tried to push past Nolan, as the two began to leave.
"Wait! Don't get separated!" I yelled. But it was too late, they'd vanished into the dark fog. Marcus stood up and hurried after them to bring them back.
"What're you afraid of? That these fairies'll show us the way out? Seems your little plan failed," Nolan sneered.
...Several things happened at once, as soon as the last words left his mouth.
...The horses suddenly shrieked and went into a panic, eyes rolling, and hooves lashing as they broke their ties and charged out of the firelight and into the night...
...A human scream, followed by another - no words, just the sound of pure terror, followed by the sounds of armor being rended...
...The sloshing sound from before was suddenly loud, overpowering and surrounding the clearing, the air filled with the stench of rotting flesh, and I heard the squeals of horses, panicked and in agony...
...More screams shattering the night, one suddenly cut off, the sounds of bodies being torn apart...
Nolan's eyes went impossibly wide at this, mouth slackening as he looked around in confusion, seeing nothing but the fog and the dancing lights. And then they snapped back to me, filled with both fear and hatred.
He suddenly lunged at me and too late, I saw his hand go for the dagger at his belt. "You did this!" he roared. "You used your witchcraft to bring us here!"
I managed to twist a little, avoiding what would've been a killing blow, my ankle sending up a flash of pain from the uneven ground. However, it still hit home, the blade sinking to the hilt into my right arm, and dragging downwards. I could feel blood starting to go down my arm and soak into my clothes.
I pushed him away, managing to kick him sharply in the stomach where the breastplate ended, the dagger grating against my bone for a brief second before being knocked into the darkness. The motion sent Nolan stumbling back a few feet, towards the fire...
...And that's when I saw it, silhouetted against the flames, standing behind the soldier. It was hulking, at least four feet taller than him, seemingly to be nothing more than a large mass with overhanging arms, made up reeds and rotting grass, a mouthful of bloodied fangs glimmering in the meager light. The stench from the mounds that I'd seen scattered all over the swamps, of death and decay, was overpowering in its presence.
/Masters of camouflage.../
Nolan stepped towards me, to press another attack.
And stopped, upon seeing the pale look on my face and hearing the fleshy slithering sound behind him. He didn't even have a chance to turn. From the ground between us, another creature rose up in front of him.
Nolan started to scream, the sound almost inhuman with pain. I leapt forward to free him, the Sheikah blade appearing in my hands.
And I struck, landing several blows in succession, until my blade snapped. All around me, I could feel more of these things approaching from the fog. The monster showed no sign of noticing that I'd even attacked it and Nolan continued to scream, the sound, coupled with the noise of his armor being pried apart, reaching a new high.
The scream suddenly cut off into a bloody gurgle, followed by the sounds of a body being ripped apart and of flesh being devoured. The ground trembled underneath my feet, as more rose up from the marshes around me, rumbling. I scrambled out of the way, as one of the creatures from behind me lashed out, trying to snare me in its arms. More were appearing out of the fog around the campfire, sloshing over towards me...
There had to be at least twenty here, with more on the way. The creature, the one that I'd tried to distract, turned, reaching for me with a gory arm, a clump of bloodied hair caught between its teeth...
...And for the first time in my life, I fled.
I practically flew over the swamps, clutching my injured arm, and ignoring the pain from my twisted ankle. I could hear them lumbering after me, the night filled with the sounds of reeds slithering, claws tearing at the swamp, and the creatures chittering back and forth at each other as they pursued.
I could begin to pick out a darker body, of trees, off to the distance and I sped up, weaving and doing all I could to throw the monsters off.
But, after twenty minutes, of a nearly all-out sprint, I was beginning to tire, my breathing labored and painful, and I was beginning to feel faint from my wound and the miasma...
But still, I continued to run.
Because I knew that the moment I slowed, they would catch up and devour me.
I sped up, spurred myself on, forcing myself to go faster.
The swamp began to gradually change, and I found my feet connecting with solid ground as I staggered into the forest, feeling like my heart was going to pound itself out of my chest. The sloshing sound stopped and I turned, to see eight of the creatures standing at the marshes' edges, heads turned towards me, waving this way and that as I moved farther and farther away from them.
I continued, lightheaded and overheating, aimlessly wandering deeper into the forest, clutching my right upper-arm, sticky with blood, and limping.
It wasn't long until I managed to catch the sound of flowing water. Automatically, I painfully made my way towards it, distantly knowing that I was in danger of dehydrating. Overhead, the clouds, darkened by the ashes, began to disappear and a half moon peaked out, the forest brightening a little.
I saw it through the trees, patches of pale blue against the grass. I drew closer, the patches becoming a large spring of mountain water. There were splashes, and I unconsciously stiffened as I approached.
And I stopped short, at the water's edge, almost wanting to laugh at the absurdity of what I saw: after the horrors of the marsh, I couldn't believe this. There was someone, a Hylian, bathing in the spring. For a moment, I just stood there, studying him cautiously, noting the golden hair, the elegant Hylian ears, the well-muscled body...
/He seems familiar.../
And I couldn't quite figure out why at first.
And then, for a moment, his head turned ever so slightly, and I saw the side of his face. My heart suddenly froze in my chest.
"Link?!"
+to be continued+
This chapter completed: 8/19/03
Thanks to Rydia for giving me Terin's name.
--Wyna Hiros
