Chapter 4
In sleep's dark embrace Link dreamt...
"Hey."
Link stopped short at the sound of the voice. The Kokiri Settlement's exit bridge stretched out in front him, beckoning, tempting. A semi-circle of smoky-black reinforced glass, like a tunnel with its top half shorn clean away, the bridge promised him the freedom of escape, the hope of a new future. Just a few short steps and he'd have it right in his grasp. Instead, he turned around to face the past.
"Hey," he said.
If Link felt any surprise at seeing Zelda there, he wasn't going to show it. Instead, he shifted the weight of his travel-pack. His back ached from the strain. Not good. He hadn't even left yet.
As they faced one another people flowed past them in both directions, leaving the two of them a solitary eddy in the bustling throng. Battered supply ships, frigates and passenger cruisers flew overhead, the air awash with the rattling drone of their engines, their navigation lights cutting the sky with powerful beams.
"So," Zelda said at last, crossing her arms. Twilight approached and yet, as ever, her blue eyes shone. "You are leaving us, then?"
"Yes," he replied. "Yes, I am."
"I see," was Zelda's simple reply.
So stiff. So formal. He felt a twinge of regret at the thought.
The world turned chalk-white for an instant as a passing ship's immense spotlight strobed over them. Zelda watched it past wistfully, then said, "Go then."
Link almost started in surprise. "Uh..."
"Go." She made a quick shooing gesture. "Be leaving."
The bait had been dangled. And Link took it. Frustration rode the tide of his sense of rejection. "Really? You want me to go?"
"No," she replied, a little too quickly.
Link flinched as a passing ship rumbled too close over their heads. He wasn't quite sure how to follow through on his conversation, so fell back on a Kokiri's favourite topic: the weather.
"It's cold," he said. "Really cold. Don't you feel cold?"
Eyeing her, he realised that Zelda wasn't wearing a coat.
She must have left her house in a hurry...
"Here," he said softly as he unclipped his cloak from under his travel-pack. "Take this. Please."
Link held the tattered green cloth out to her. Zelda eyed it with suspicion.
"Why are you wearing such a silly thing?" she said as she gingerly took it from him. "Honestly!"
"Uh..." Link hadn't got an answer to that. He'd read about the ancients, how they'd always worn a cloak when travelling. He just had to try it. Secretly, he thought he'd look pretty snazzy. Judging by the odd looks and smirks he'd received so far, reality had proven herself to be a cruel mistress.
Zelda wrapped it over her shoulders like a shawl. "I am thanking you."
Again, the loss of words. For both of them.
"Link."
"Yes?"
"Your mother."
Two words from Zelda made Link freeze where he stood, any further words dying in his throat. He glanced down at his feet. Through the dark glass he saw the Kokiri river tinted black beneath him.
"What about her?" he said at last.
Zelda's voice rang thick with soft pity. "I am...being sorry to hear about your mother's passing. She was being a good woman."
Link diverted his eyes yet again. He swallowed. "Yes, she was," he breathed, his voice ragged. "Thank you."
In the silence that hung between them, Link fell the dull ache of his loss grow. It took all of his willpower to keep himself rooted to the spot and not just stalk off.
"She was fond of you," Link added.
Zelda smiled. "I am thinking the feeling was being mutual, yes?"
Link didn't really want to talk anymore. Even to Zelda. He just didn't care. Not at this moment.
He should have cared, that was for sure. Not just because of his leaving, but because tomorrow night was the Night of Significance. The Kokiri certainly liked to have an excuse to celebrate, and this was just another in a long list.
This one was for everyone who had turned eighteen in the past year. In an elaborate ceremony they were to choose the object or person who had - as the name suggested - had the most significance to them in their lives so far. Most times it was a person who was invariably chosen. Family members were excluded.
And that left Link with just the one choice. Except he no longer cared. It just seemed so much meaningless fluff now that his Mama had gone.
Besides, the way Groose had been toadying up to Zelda in the past year it was clear that she had already been targeted by his former foe. The usual protocol was that you let the person in question know beforehand. And if they accepted no-one else would be bothered to ask. The way Groose had been hanging around her recently, Link wouldn't have been surprised if he'd already lost the race for Zelda.
That's why those in the know said you should always have a back-up on your list. Or three. So you don't embarrass yourself. Sort of defeated the object, Link thought, but Kokiri traditions were always a bit perplexing to him.
And yet...and yet there was a tiny part of him, a bit of him that hadn't been drowned in grief and self-pity, that longed to tell Zelda he'd chosen her. Ached for it.
He wished he could just cut that part out of him with a pair of energy-edged scissors.
"Is this why you are going?"
Link blinked, broken out of his reverie. "Sorry, what?"
"Is this why you are going?" she repeated, her eyes watching him carefully. She waited until another ship thrummed by. "Because of your mother?"
Link pursed his lips, then shrugged. "No," he said. "Not really."
"Then why...? Please be telling me."
Link looked up at her in surprise at the earnest note in her voice, his gaze fixing on those large blue eyes. "I'm not really sure."
He wasn't, it was the truth. He'd been like this for a while now, even before Mama had gotten sick. Restlessness itched at him, chafing him to the point that he just had to leave. There wasn't any point in wondering about it. Sometimes over-thinking wasn't that good a thing.
Seeing Zelda there, though, waiting patiently as her eyes pleaded for an explanation, Link felt some sort of dam break deep inside him, and a sudden surge of emotion spilled out onto his tongue.
"But I just wanted to say - I mean wanted to tell you - I-" Flustered, he ran a hand through his hair. He did that a lot he noticed. Why couldn't he be as cool and self-assured as Groose? Yeah, it was true, he wasn't as sickly or as stuttering as he once was, but he was still just the same old Link.
Zelda's voice was quiet and soft, almost drowned out in the surrounding bustle and noise. "Telling me what...?"
Link shifted his travel-pack again. Stupid thing was so uncomfortable. Zelda was still watching him with those large sapphire eyes. He steeled himself. It was now or never.
"Thank you," he said. "I never really said thank you for when you saved me from Mido all those years ago. And for...for...saving me -" He knew this was going to sound terrible, but he couldn't help it "- saving me from myself since then. " Link took in a deep breath. He'd had a sudden flash of insight. "I think I'm leaving...to go do the right thing. Just like you always said."
Zelda stayed silent. When words finally came to her, Link noticed that her lip was trembling. "Then I want to be saying thank you to you, too," she said. "Because you were being my friend when I was not having a single one."
Link blinked, confused. "But...I never did anything for you."
"Oh," she replied gently. "You were doing more than you imagine. Remember all the times you were finding me crying when I was little? When they were saying the bad things about me? And you would be doing your silly little dances or jumping from the trees just to be making me laugh?"
Link smiled sadly. "I remember."
A mischievous gleam twinkled in her eye. "Go on, Link! Do one now! Oh, please!"
"What?" said Link, taken aback.
"One of your silly moo-cow dancings!"
"What, are you serious? Here?" Link glanced around, suddenly embarrassed. "No!"
She giggled and pointed. "Ha! The look on your face!"
Link closed his eyes in relief. When he opened them again, he saw the smile fading from Zelda's face, saw the distance in her eyes, as though some old memory had overtaken her.
Her voice suddenly dropped. "It is being hard when you are thinking yourself all alone. And thinking that nobody has any caring for you." Something dark flashed in her eyes. "Then your mind...well, it starts to be feeding on that, starts to fester." Now her eyes seemed to turn inward, her voice but a whisper." And the hands are just revealing what the heart is trying to keep hidden..."
Link couldn't quite understand what she was saying, but somehow felt that he'd let her down. Shame bit at his cheeks. Is that why she'd wanted other friends now? Friends like Groose?
A passer-by shouldered past him, but Link now funnelled all his focus onto his oldest, dearest friend.
"Zelda, tell me," he said, his voice suddenly urgent. "What is it you really want? I mean, really want. What is it I can do that'll make you really, really happy."
A sudden breeze blew, scattering Zelda's hair. People still brushed past them, but the two of them were lost to anything other than their present moment. Lost to everything but each other.
Zelda cocked her head to the side in contemplation. In that moment, she looked old. Old and sad.
"Make your actions be beautiful, Link."
"What?"
A thin smile touched her lips. "Make your actions be beautiful. That will be being your success. And be content with what you are having." Her fingers brushed against her new-found shawl. "This will be the secret of your happiness.
"Do not be being like many of these other people." She gestured absently at the crowd passing by. "Money. Fame. Attention. These are the things that will fade." Now she sounded older. Almost...ancient. "We are but being a drop in the ocean of time. What does the drop matter in the facing of the whole ocean? Nothing! So, what are they building for? What are they collecting? This is not making a mark, like they are thinking."
She held his gaze. Link stood transfixed. This was important. He didn't exactly why, but it just was.
A painful twitch from his back broke the moment. He flinched.
Zelda smiled, reached out for the pack's strap hanging from his shoulder, and made some adjustments.
Instantly, Link felt the burden lift from his back. He blinked in bemused surprise.
"So," Zelda continued. "This is what you should be giving, Link. Or doing, rather: Make your actions be beautiful."
He'd never heard Zelda speak like that before. Not in those words, and certainly not in that tone. He wasn't even quite sure he completely understood.
"Even little actions," she explained. "Like so." She patted the shouldered strap of his travel-pack.
"Um..." was all Link could manage in return. "I'll...do my best."
She smiled again. "Of this, I am being certain."
And as Link stood there with his heart thumping in his chest, he felt that he just had to say one more thing. He couldn't quite describe the friendship they shared but knew, right at this moment, it had never been so open or so...raw.
A sliver of movement from behind her caught Link's eyes. He saw a cleaning hover-barge approach, squat and fat, dust and detritus spinning away from under the path of its rubber skirts, its driver growling and shouting at anyone who wasn't quick enough to get out the way.
Zelda hadn't seen it. Hoping that she'd forgive him for being so forward, he suddenly snatched at her sleeve and swung her out of the way. Net result: they'd both switched positions but were now standing an inch closer to each other than before.
"I am thanking you," Zelda said, unperturbed as she peered at the barge floating past. She'd reverted back to her usual chirpy self. "See? This is what I am - Link?"
The sudden change in his demeanour had elicited the odd look from his old friend. Link loosened his limbs and tried to force himself to be casual. He'd come to a decision.
Link cleared his dry throat. "So, uh, tomorrow is the Night of Significance, hey?"
Zelda arced an eyebrow. A cautious expression flickered on her face. "Yes..?"
"So, uh..."
"You will be missing it."
"Yeah." Link couldn't quite look straight at her. His eyes danced, looking this way and that, and momentarily managed to catch the glance of a toothless old crone with straggly hair striding by. The woman flashed him a gummy grin and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Stricken, Link looked away instantly. Just in time to see Zelda struggle to stop her lips from twitching.
He narrowed his eyes. "Funny."
"It is being so, yes," she giggled.
"Look, I -" Inwardly, he sighed. Just do this and go. Leave. Don't look back. "I -I wanted to - what I mean is that I was going to...um...choose you. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night. I was going to choose you. I am choosing you."
A laugh as light as air floated free from Zelda's smiling lips. Link felt himself flinch inwardly. He'd dreaded just this type of reaction.
He felt himself regress to his seven-year-old self, small and vulnerable, and deathly afraid of any human contact. He would've just turned on his heels and left, cursing under his breath, had Zelda not spoken again.
"You cannot be choosing me."
"Why?" He had to force the words from his tight throat. "Because you've already made up your mind, is it?"
"Yes."
"Who was it, then?" He surprised himself at how bitter he sounded. "Groose?"
Zelda raised a surprised eyebrow, amusement dancing in her azure eyes. "Groose? Why ever would I ...?"
Zelda shook her head, another gentle laugh kissing the air between them . Her eyes locked with his. She smiled. "You cannot be choosing me, Link," she said, her voice soft and kind. "Because I have already been choosing you." Her eyes seemed to glow in the fading crimson light. "I chose you a long, long time ago..."
###
Recording...
Status Report:
So it turns out this place is called Haven [sponsored by the Business Scrub Association, 'Don't be a mug, deal with the Scrub!'], though it doesn't turn up on any maps I've got on Hyrule, and that just can't be right. The captain's thinking I need my Windfall Compass Software ™ updating because my data's all outdated and old and whatnot, and ordered me to get it sorted quick.
I'm thinking 'hmph,' 'meh,' and 'you wish, buddy,' all in that order.
Also turns out the people of Haven had no idea where that mechanical dragon came from. I believed them, but the captain didn't. He asked for assurances that they were legit and on the level, some proof shall we say. So they rolled out this really slick pictovid of their scientists trying to explain it to us, and turns out it was all some big misunderstanding, that they saw the thing approaching but all thought it was some sort of big publicity stunt to sell stuff. For some reason, though, whenever anyone in the vid spoke their lips never seemed to match up to the words they were saying.
Weird.
But all the proof I needed...
So, they let us land and even offered to do repairs on the Maximus out of pure, selfless gratitude. Sweet! Though it did take us a good few hours to get down there. First, we had to sign their insurance forms, waiver liability in the event of irreparable damage due to the random attack of mechanical beasts, and we even had to trademark the name of the ship.
Just in case, you know?
Anyway, must dash. Saria and I overseeing the repair work with a Haven maintenance crew. They're far too curious. Look, one of the young whippersnappers has gone wandering off even as I speak...
###
"No, no, it's fine." His name was Thrypwud, he lived in Haven, and he was backing away from an angry looking fairy. He squinted as rain fell into his eyes. "No, really it is."
"See?" Navi said. "You've got me all livid. I never get livid. But if I catch you snooping around here again when you should be doing your job-"
"But I cleared it with Miss Saria," Thrypwud said as he wrung his hands. "Ask her?"
The fairy gave him one last wilting look, then glanced over at the ship's stern. "Saria?"
The green-haired girl popped her head out from one of the deck's hatches. She pushed up her safety goggles with her index finger. "Yeah?"
"He says you okayed him having a look-see down below."
"Yeah. Let him." The rain had plastered her hair to her brow. She ducked back down for a moment, then popped back up instantly. "Just don't touch my stuff, okay?"
"O-okay." Thrypwud stood his ground as the fairy, after a moment to really glare at him and shake a fist in warning, floated away. Grey clouds smeared the sky overhead, but Thrypwud couldn't have cared less. At the moment, he only had eyes for The Righteous Maximus. He gazed around the slippery deck, still in awe. Saws cut wood, hammers slammed nails, and sparks flew, sizzling in the rain, as the Haven repair crew set to work.
This ship was huge! The greatest he'd ever seen! And the biggest wonder of all was that the crew said that there were bigger and better out there in Hyrule. He shook his head. He couldn't even picture it. He gazed around again. And this was just the outside...
He crouched down, wrapped his fingers around a cold steel handle, and tugged. The hatch pulled free easily, musty air following after. Miss Saria had allowed him to go below-deck and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity. He dropped down to the middle deck and paused. A corridor of perfectly varnished wood stretched ahead of him, with doors set on either side. The crew's living quarters.
But this wasn't what he wanted to see, either. Not at all.
Miss Saria had said that even the crew didn't go down to the final deck, the cargo hold, not unless they wanted to check in on the engines. Even though he expected to see nothing down there except a big open space, Thrypwud just had to check it out.
He crouched again, peeled aside the deep blue carpet and felt his mouth water as he saw another hatch. This one took a fair amount of effort to open, but open it he did. He slipped down.
Darkness greeted him. The only illumination was the square shaft of light from the open hatch above. His heart began to thud.
Stupid! Why didn't I bring a lantern? Or any sort of light...
He'd have to go back up. He had no idea if there was corridor in front of him or just...nothingness. In the faint light, he could still make out the ladder so he grasped it with both hands, gave it a shake to test its firmness, then -
The hatch above swung shut.
Thrypwud stared straight up. He blinked. And blinked again. He heard his blood pounding in his ears. How in the world had that happened...?
"Hello...?" he offered meekly. "Is anyone up there...?"
No one replied.
Now what? He was stuck. Well and truly stuck.
He'd just have to wait it out. They'd notice soon enough, once he'd been down here long enough. They'd search the ship, check down here, and both the fairy and Miss Saria would give him an earful of abuse.
Oh joy...
Rubbing his temples, he rested his back against the ladder - and then froze. His ears pricked up.
What was that?
He'd heard something. A faint skittering...
Thrypwud strained his ears. The sound of his own breathing echoed back to him, sounding far too loud.
Imagination. Just my imag-
There it was again! A faint, scratchy whisper...
Every muscle and every nerve clenched. Ice-cold fear ran in his veins. His bladder loosened.
A mouse. Please let it be a mouse...
He ventured forward a step. "H-hello?" he called. "Is anyone there?"
Silence.
"Hello...?"
The response came with a deep, throaty growl: "Hunnnnnnnnnnnn-grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rr."
Thrypwud screamed, his arms wind-milling as he staggered back. His spine bounced painfully against the ladder as he scrambled away from it, backing up, his hands grasping in thin air.
He hit a wall. Grainy wood kissed the tips of his fingers. Thrypwud clung to it, his shirt drenched in sweat, his breath rapid and shallow. He closed his eyes, waiting.
Nothing came.
And still nothing.
His eyes opened. Had he really just imagined it...?
Slowly, with jerking movements, he craned his neck around.
"Hunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn-grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrr."
He saw it then. Despite the dark, despite the gloom, he saw it.
Thrypwud saw it and screamed and screamed and screamed...
...
Link watched the rain drum down onto his room's window, pooling and congealing as it ran down the glass. Beyond, the port town of Haven throbbed with life. Propeller-driven passenger boats, a small family's ideal mode of transportation, cut a gliding path through the curtain of torrential rain, white navigation lights winking.
Powerful spotlight lanterns traced energy patterns in the air, bright colours of electric green and yellow, informing you about all the wares being sold in the market and how much better your life would be if you just had the latest and greatest of what was on offer.
Perched on the end of his bed, Link saw the light show through a blurred haze. His body still ached from all his exertions against the dragon and the Gerudo, so he'd been allowed to rest, despite his protestations. Rest, and sleep. Sleep, and dream.
Link shook his head. Make your actions be beautiful. Be content with what you are having.
He'd struggled all his life with the first, and had pretty much failed with the second.
Link didn't really want to think on why memories of Zelda were so strongly invading his sleep just right now. Thankfully, he didn't have to - a soft tap on the door made him look up.
"Link." It was Captain Gortram. "You awake, lad?"
Link swung his legs off the bed, then sat himself down at a round glass table. The furnishings - and the whole room - came courtesy of their hosts, the Haven Town Council.
"Come in, sir," he said.
The door opened with a soft click, and the Goron stepped in. "How you doin, boy?" he said, grinning. He held two metal mugs in his hand and, as he plunked himself down opposite Link, he slid one over. "Get that down you. It's a local recipe."
Link sniffed it with suspicion, then brought it tentatively to his lips. The nectar was sweet and ice-cold. Refreshing.
"Good, eh?" said Gortram.
Link nodded. He took another sip, not really knowing what to say. A thought came to him. "I've still got your hookshot."
"Your hookshot, lad," said the captain. "You keep it."
Link felt too tired to protest. "Thanks," he replied. "So, how's it going, hey? The repairs...? How's Navi and Saria?"
"Good, good, everything's good."
Link waited. It was obvious Gortram had something he wanted to get off his chest. He just wished the captain would just get to it.
Link nursed the mug, felt his fingertips tingle from the cold. "Soooooo..."
"Right." Gortram cleared his throat. "You were an army boy, eh?" He watched Link closely. "You know what? I was going to join the Royal Brigade once."
"Really?"
"Aye. Went to all the recruitment drives. Even half-filled in the application."
Curiosity piqued, Link took another sip and waited for the captain to explain. Shadows cast by the rain outside danced patterns on the glass tabletop.
"I did a bit of pondering, if you will," Gortram said at last. "I know all about the Gerudo, you know. Their history. Before they warped in from their desert world, whatever-in-the-blue-blazes they call that place."
"News to me," said Link. "I know what I was told at the Academy. But I'm guessing what you've got is different...?"
"Aye." The captain took a long swig from his mug. "They were good with their hands."
"Just like the Gorons, hey?"
Gortram nodded. "Aye. And just like us they made a lot of stuff. Good quality. Good craftsmanship."
"Uh-huh."
"And some of their stuff was useful. Others...well, yeah, it looked nice, there was a certain aesthetic that was good on the eye. But it was the kind of thing you didn't really need, you snag?"
"Yeah."
Gortram waved at the light show outside. "See that? They had that, the Gerudo did. Conning them into thinking all that useless stuff was that they really wanted the most.
"Now there ain't nothing wrong with that, if you're doing it on the side, like. But the Gerudo, it's all they obsessed about. Everything else was thrown aside. Friends, family, morals.
"And then you got the people selling this stuff. The lows they'd stoop to just for a bit of coin."
"Okay," said Link, his voice flat. His fingers tapped the glass tabletop.
"Hold on, lad, I'm getting to my point," Gortram growled. "Honestly, you young folks - no patience."
Link smiled. "Actually, you sound a little like an old friend of mine..."
"I do, do I?" He slurped noisily at his drink. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah...the stuff I learnt about the Gerudo? I saw the exact same thing in my own people. In all the people in the princess's Hyrulean Alliance. Maybe not as bad, no. But it was there."
"Except," Link was quick to add. "The difference was - is - one man."
"Aye," the captain replied. "Dragmire. He hated what he saw. Hated the fact that the Gerudo had got so soft that, if they weren't so comfortable, they'd probably die of hunger since they didn't know how to do anything except worry and fuss over what to buy.
"It took him a while, but he did it. He figured the only way to get his people to get out of their rut was to unite them in a common goal. Only problem was that that goal involved him infecting them with his own lust for cruelty and pain.
"I looked at them Gerudo, the way they were. And then I looked at my people, I looked at the Gorons and the people in the Alliance. And I wondered... if I joined the Brigade, what exactly would I be fighting for?"
Link remembered the coldness with which Princess Midna had sacrificed Zelda. He took a drink, then licked his lips. "You start to think if the people you're fighting for aren't just the same as the people you're fighting against."
"Exactly," the Goron replied. "But, thankfully, things aren't that bad yet."
"No."
"And don't get me wrong, I don't want those scum Gerudo winning the war. I ain't saying I'm right or anything, either. Judgemental old sod is what Saria calls me. Maybe she's right. But back then, it's just that I figured I'd be more use on a different front. The Zayronite we dig up ain't just for the Brigade, you know. Ordinary people make use of it as well. If that makes me a coward, then..."
"No," Link replied. "I understand. Really."
Raindrops tapped out a rhythmic beat on the window. The silence that had fell between them eventually got so unbearable that Link just had to break it. "What do they call this stuff?" he said, lifting the mug.
"Koola, or summat like that," the captain replied. He smacked his lips. "I like how it just buzzes on your tongue."
"Don't give any to Saria," Link warned. "You'll never get her off it."
Gortram flashed a thin smile. Another awkward silence followed, pregnant with expectation. The captain kept his level gaze on Link. "So," he said after a long pause. "Who is she?"
Link blinked. "She?"
"Oh, come on, lad," Gortram said, leaning back in his chair. "You said the princess exchanged something important with Dragmire. For that Triforce piece. I'm guessing from the way you reacted that it was a girl."
For a moment, Link was at a complete loss for words. Denials formed on his tongue, armed with angry protestations. He closed his eyes. The rain drummed. His head throbbed. Really, why waste the effort?
Instead, Link smiled an acknowledgement as his eyes opened once more. "She was a friend. A childhood friend." A wistful lilt caught on his voice. "I don't even know if she's still alive."
There it was. Spilling from his very own lips. The fear. The fear that he'd held onto for so very long now. Link felt it all suddenly break free. "I stood by and did nothing, Captain. Nothing. I just stood by and let the princess hand her over. Who does that to a friend? Who? I promised..."
His voice died in his throat. Link swallowed, then gazed into his mug. He could do with a refill.
Gortram offered no words, no comforting reply. The rain continued to patter down. Link, not wanting to even face his older friend, decided to watch that instead. The strength of his own self-loathing surprised him.
It was a while before the captain spoke again. "You went looking for her, though. Right?"
"Yeah. After I'd given the princess a piece of my mind."
"Ha!" Gortram cried. "Classic!" Realisation made his eyes bulge, and he quickly cleared his throat. "I mean, that was very disrespectful of you, lad. Very bad. Let me guess - they didn't take kindly to that, eh?"
"No," Link replied sadly. "That's how I was discharged. I tried. Really, I did. But without military resources helping me, trying to find Zel - to find my friend - it was just plain impossible. Ganondorf Dragmire doesn't want to be found."
"So then...?"
"I felt I had to do something, you know?" Link's fingers grasped at thin air as the frustration set in. "So at first, while I worked on improving my med skills, I thought I'd tell people about the princess. What she's really like. Get the word out there."
"Didn't take you for the vengeful type." The captain took another sip before something flashed in his eyes. The mug hit the table with a metallic thud. "Oh, no. You are kidding me? Please say you're kidding me."
"What?"
"You worked for The Whistleblower, didn't you?"
A sheepish grin spread over Link's lips. "I may have helped out a bit..."
"Right. You're not telling Saria this. No way."
Link laughed. "Yeah, alright..."
"And then?"
"And then I got tired of all that. Wasn't feeling it anymore."
"Got sick right in the soul, eh? It happens."
"Yeah. It was a bit petty." Certainly not an action made beautiful... "So I thought I'd figure out a different way to help out. Combine my med skills with the physical stuff I'd learnt with the Brigade."
"So you became a miner. Or, more specifically, the mining medic." Gortram nodded in approval. "So we got a bit in common, eh lad?"
Link nodded.
"Ha!" the captain cried. "No wonder all your files are classified! Never wanted to pry, but I did wonder..."
"You never asked."
"I don't, lad," Gortram replied. "Unless I've got a need to know. And I think I do now..."
"So," Link said with a sigh. "Now wha-"
" - Don't you dare call me 'sir' -"
"Now what, boss?"
"Ha!" the captain said. "Well. We still don't know why Dragmire took your friend. Or what the actual significance of that Triforce thing is. What're you planning to do with your piece?"
"I haven't thought about it." It was the truth.
"Right. Well, I'm sure you'll let me know." The captain suddenly leaned in close. "Keep your eyes peeled, though. Something's not right. This whole place not showing up on Navi's charts. The way they're just 'helping' us fix the Maximus."
"The way a metal dragon just turned up out of nowhere making a bee- line for this place?"
Gortram smiled grimly. "You've been thinking it through, too," he said, satisfied. "Good lad."
"Captain."
The Goron looked up, puzzled, then pressed an ornate button sewed into the lapel of his shirt. "Gortram here. Yes, Navi?"
"We've found them, Captain."
Gortram's perplexity grew. He threw Link a questioning glance, but the young man only shrugged, equally befuddled.
"Found who, Navi?"
"Anju and Kafei."
The captain shot to his feet. "Anju and Kafei? Here?" His grin was broad and genuine. "How'd they get here? How are they?"
"Captain." Navi's voice was uncharacteristically grave. "Please come to the Maximus."
Link felt his heart sink. "Boss?"
"Let's go."
Exchanging another glance, the two men ran out the door, through winding passageways wiped clean and stinging with the scent of disinfectant, then ran out into the rain. They reached the dock in no time. A crowd had already formed around the Maximus.
"Out the way," the Goron barked as the two of them slowly pushed their way through. "I'm the captain."
Link's mind raced. Anju and Kafei, the two expert geologists that, until recently, had been an integral part of their crew. Anju and Kafei who, though they kept themselves to themselves, always had a friendly word for Link. Anju and Kafei, who had mysteriously disappeared one night, in spite of the crew's best efforts in searching for them.
The two men burst through. Anju and Kafei...
...whose shrivelled corpses now lay decaying at their feet.