Guess what? XD I've finished writing this whole story! OMG! (okay, yeah, I've got another one or two pages, but still.) Now all i have to do is update on a regular basis ! Oh man, this is totally exciting for me. X3
Anyway, this chapter is filled with Link getting some emotional pain, more insight on why he became a mask-maker, and build up for more action! And emotional pain, TO BE HONEST.
But there're cute moments that you'll love, I'm sure. Hopefully. -_-;
As per usual, review-replies at the bottom!
6 - Reason
They got a tour, despite Link's misgivings. Tents full of maps and diagrams, supplies, clothing and laundry, beddings, equipment for digging, tools for examination, and what disgusted Link and excited Jim most, was the treasures. Gold cutlery, delicate statues, copper jewellery inlaid with stones of all colours, hell, there were bits of walls dumped on the ground, brushes strewn on top of them to wipe away the dust and grime of centuries.
"The shadows are falling indeed," Link muttered to himself, before turning on Pamela, who was making sure the young guests didn't try to take anything. "What are you doing this for?"
Pamela shrugged her sinuous shoulders. "I'm following in my father's footsteps."
Link barked in mirthless laughter. "Your father wanted to find out how to reverse the Gibdo's curse. You're not even pretending to do that; you're just desecrating a Sacred place."
"Well isn't that rich, coming from you," she rolled her eyes, sauntering over to where the man was gritting his teeth, trailing her fingertips down his chest, "If the rumours are correct, you've repeatedly gone through numerous temples, ransacked their treasure chests, stolen weapons from them, and, oh, destroyed parts of them as well. And palaces. And cities."
Link hissed as he backed away, wincing at the truth in her barbed words.
"You're dishonouring the dead, Pamela," he strangled out, making her snarl, "What I've done to all the places I've visited is nothing compared to what you're doing now."
"The dead ruined my life."
"Your dad's obsession with the dead ruined your life," Link corrected heatedly, "And if this is your twisted idea of revenge, I'm willing to cut you down, Pamela, this is my-"
The Hylian bit his lip. His sanity would forever be in question if he called the dead his friends.
"Your what?" Pamela demanded, crossing her arms.
Link cursed his lack of witticism and said, "My territory."
"Your territory?" Pamela repeated with cruel amusement, throwing her head back to laugh, "Oh how incredibly macho of you. Hey, you two," she added, addressing Sheik and Jim, "You can play with the treasure, just don't damage them. I need to pay my men, after all."
"You've got some amazing stuff here," Jim professed, running his hands over a lapis-lazuli necklace, holding it out to the red-eyed girl. "Here, Bell, you'll look great in this."
Sheik blushed and stammered he placed it round her neck. Disgust tore Link's insides.
The Hylian calmed his feelings enough to face Pamela again, with a more civil tone. "Look. I want nothing to do with this. I just want to get inside the Castle, check some stuff, and then get the hell out. Let me in, and I won't try stopping your raiding. Fair enough?"
She broodingly thrust her shapely hips to the side, pouting. "You know what? No."
Link snarled. "What?"
"We've been trying to get into the Castle itself for a few days now, but the core of the walls are reinforced with this blue material that can't be penetrated, no matter what we do to it. Climbing isn't an option. The whole place is invader proof. Even the famous Garo couldn't get in, after all. Unless you have a means of entry...?"
Link noticed her very, very suggestive tone, but the niggling lack of the Garo sent a cold chill down his spine. "How do you know about the Garo? They're meant to be a myth."
"They attacked us. My men took care of them."
"They... they attacked you."
Pamela nodded in clarification smiling. "Yes."
"And you defeated them."
"Yep."
Nausea churned his guts. He himself had killed a few Garo, but that was before he fully understood them, he'd even gone to the lengths of joining their ranks to have them receive his penance. He had their mark on his collarbone. Link forced himself to ask, "How?"
She shrugged. "Shot some bombs at them; we had a few left from the excavation."
They must have attacked more than once for the raiders to be so prepared. But long distance meant something more chilling to Link than the coldness of the mass-murder. "Did you hear their last words?"
She scoffed and laughed. "What are you, a Garo activist? They were scum of the earth, assassins for hire and bandits at best. Let the Mad God hear their last words; my men and I don't have the time or patience for their ritualistic bullshit."
Something inside him, like a string reaching its limit, snapped.
In front of him he lost sight of the young frightened girl that had cared for her father deeply and fiercely, protecting him from everything that dared to harm him. In front of him now was a bitter young woman that hated whatever stood in her way, embittered by a childhood filled with the dead. Link had seen a kindred spirit in her, all those years ago.
Not anymore. "Where are the bodies."
"Just ask my men and they'll point the way, mister activist." She probably thought that she was being good-natured, that he was being too uptight and would eventually see it her way.
"Why don't you tell those two all about your exploits while I'm at it," Link simpered, barely stopping the veil of red that threatened to descend on his mind, "I might take a while."
-,-'-,-'-,-
Link left the tent and marched straight for his pack, which was gaining some attention because of the masks that peered out of pockets and openings like curious children. He ignored them as he got his case for making masks and firmly closed the bag. He approached the biggest man he could see and glowered at him. "Where are the Garo?"
The man seemed somewhat perplexed at Link's attitude before pointing towards the top of the village, where Link could see the after-effects of a one-sided battle.
"Thanks. Oh, and spread the word that if anyone so much as goes within a three foot radius of my bags, they're going to get their feet cut off. Thanks."
Link didn't wait for the man to reply before he began to march up the sloping road to the top of the rocky hill, passing decrepit houses, dry remains of gardens, and bones of unidentified creatures. He remembered a town that had looked like this, in years that had never come, under a despotic rule that had never happened. But that Castle Town had had redeads, fires burning, moss growing. It had been a place of agony, but it had held a soul to feel that agony, a soul that had yearned for hope. Here there was nothing, no soul, no spirit, no hope. All it had was its legacy, and even that was being stripped from it, layer by precious layer.
Link faced the pile of arrowed and scorched corpses, and seeing the dust on their bodies, the flies and insects crawling through their clothes and flesh, he didn't bother looking for a survivor. Link was sad to admit that he was too used to the stench to even gag.
He knelt on the ground and opened the case, the compartments dutifully unfurling with its brimming contents. He reached for a scratched bottle with a battered cork, thick yellow liquid swirling inside like amber jelly. "I'm sorry I can't make a mask for you all," Link told the pile of corpses as he dropped a large glob of the Cyprus sap onto the dusty ground, "And I'm sorry I couldn't hear your final words, not even a single one."
"What are you doing?"
Link spun round, heart in his mouth. Sheik guiltily flinched, and apologised for startling him. The Hylian calmed at her worried gaze, and gave a sad smile. "I'm giving them a send off."
"Oh," she said, cautiously taking a step towards him. Link turned back to his work without objecting to her presence, so she came even closer and peered over his shoulder. He could feel her warmth and presence like a blanket. "What's that?"
"Sap of the Cyprus tree, mixed with some crushed bark of the Weeping Willow; both trees are symbolically tied with mourning." He dipped his fingers into the glob on the ground and spread it into an even disk, stretching three straight lines from the bottom. Then with the dust he cut the circle in half with a squiggly horizontal line. "This is the mark of the Garo. The three lines mark their disciplines of silence, loyalty, and brutality, and the curving line symbolizes a serpent. You should take a step back, the wind's changing, and the smell's only going to get worse."
"But-"
Link shushed her. "The Garo like the quiet," he told her enigmatically, unhooking one of the three small crystals that dangled from his ear. It was clear except for its red centre, and it flashed in his hand. I grant you Din's Fire to light your way, was his thoughts as his hand flared with a fireball and he threw it into the pile of dead bodies.
"Get back!" he ordered her, grabbing his kit and quickly backpedalling away. The globe of red fire bloomed bigger and bigger till it gathered every single Garo it could find and burst, roaring into scorching flame, belching out black smoke, eating up the flesh and rock and clothes and bones that'd had the fortune of being in its belly.
Sheik gawped at the flame's awesome power, before turning on Link. "What, what... what?"
"It's said this crystal holds a lick of Din's Fire," Link explained as he put the tiny object, no bigger than a fingernail, back into his ear, "I used it to build the fire at the camp."
"But this is huge, it's insane, it's, it's..."
"The crystal is powerful. That's why it's so easy to make this kind of thing, but it's so hard to make a tiny spark for a simple campfire." He gave a satisfied smile and, finding a convenient boulder, sat on it to watch the funeral pyre. "The Garo sure did enjoy their flashy endings."
Sheik collapsed on another boulder, resting her head against her knees. Link watched the flame dance, sending the souls of the last of the Garo to their rest. Or so he hoped.
"So," Link started, finding a stick on the ground, picking it up and throwing it in, "What was Jim's expression for? When I mentioned the Mask of Truth, that is."
She forced her head away from her knees and gave a weary groan. "He, doesn't like my gift. He thinks it's creepy. So when I invited him to come with us, 'for my gift', he thought I was getting rid of it. The fact that you'd given me the mask, just, added to it... I guess..."
She looked so sad. Link sighed and leaned his chin against his hand, propping his elbow on his knee as he peered at her. "Why doesn't he like it? Your Sight, I mean."
"Look at me," she moaned, rubbing her face, "Tired, paranoid, making excuses all the time,"
"Sounds like me," Link honestly commented, making her laugh.
"You don't have red eyes."
He shrugged. "They're beautiful."
There was a startled pause between them, and Sheik blushed again. Link awkwardly turned away, inwardly cursing. He hadn't meant to say that. Well, at least, not that directly...
"Nobody's said that before."
Link perked up, confusedly meeting her gaze. "Eh?"
She was rubbing her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Nobody's ever said that, these eyes, that they're... beautiful."
She stuttered, as if the word was too fancy for her. Link couldn't help but frown. "Why not?"
"They weren't always red," she explained, not understanding that that wasn't what Link meant, "They were hazel, with green. They changed right before the nightmares began. "
"That's not what I..." Link couldn't quite get himself to repeat what he'd said about her eyes either, so he coughed. "Never mind."
"You and Jim don't get along, do you."
Link couldn't help but bark with mirth at the comment, as well as the sudden topic change. Sheik gave him a disapproving frown as he said, "I try. I love having cranky hiking buddies."
The girl sighed, mumbling an apology. Link snorted.
"I don't see why you have to apologise for him. Everybody's got an opinion of their own."
"It's not you that he hates," she bemoaned, pillowing her head against her arms and she bent over her knees, "He hates the idea that I'm not normal anymore."
Link really frowned at that. "What?"
She sighed, her whole body deflating. There was a pause long enough for him to wonder whether she'd fallen asleep, but she mumbled something into her arms. "Sorry, what?"
She turned her head in his direction, struggling to keep her eyes open. "I've always loved fairytales, legends, about heroes and things. And Jim... he's your average Hero. He helps old people across the street, he takes the effort to pick up litter from the park, loves dogs, works hard, he's going to inherit the bombshop, you know, I guess that's where he got the Bomber's Club name, or whatever you were talking about. He never told me about that," she chuckled, and Link laughed a little uneasily next to her. She sighed, smiling fondly at the memories. "I was bullied as a kid, and, well, he saved me. I've been with him since."
Link inwardly recoiled from the words, pain biting straight through his gut.
Obliviously, she continued on, "He's a nice guy, really. It's just, ever since my eyes turned red, I... I never had much friends, when they saw me, how I am now, they got scared. They're worried too, but they're scared. Like it's a disease. Jim knows it's not, and even if it was he still doesn't care. It's just... I'm not normal anymore. And, I almost love it. It terrifies me but it's... it's like I'm that much closer to the fairytales and the myths I've loved for as long as I can remember. And, I think... I think he thinks I won't love him anymore."
Link gripped the boulder hard, the pain that lanced through his chest so harsh it was physical.
Now she just sounded annoyed. "He's just frustrated, I guess, and you're his only outlet. So, I'm sorry, Link, for causing you so much trouble."
"It's..." Link swallowed dry spit, and lied. "It's fine. He makes you happy, right?"
She nodded and smiled, briefly. "Yeah."
"Then I've got nothing to complain about." Link told mostly to himself, though he directed his words flippantly towards her.
"Um, I'm sorry that I blurted all that on to you," she apologised tiredly, taking a hissing breath of a held-back yawn, "I think that's the first time I've laid that out to another person."
"I just have that kind of face." Link cleared his throat and began to stand as he said, "Anyway, as soon as we get what we need, we're turning tail out of this place, alright? The dead have a nasty bite; with these numbers, and the likelihood that this is only a fragment of the deceased, we'll probably get a swarm of angry ghosts. The last thing we need is to get involved."
She closed her eyes, shuddered, and opened them again. She started to say something but Link cut her off first. "We should head back. And you need some proper rest."
"Um," she said, pushing herself up from her knees, "Can I, since I blurted my life story to you, ask you something?"
"Uh... sure..." Link blinked uncertain as to what sort of mess he was getting into now.
She waved at the roaring funeral pyre that was beginning to die down. It only just occurred to him that she was doing fine despite the smell of burning flesh, but that was pushed from his mind as he saw just how embarrassed she was with her question, "Why are you so passionate about... this?"
Link chuckled. "Long story short, I didn't have a lot of self-worth before I got into this job."
"Um..." she rubbed her eyes, looking confused.
"I was good at breaking things." He elaborated, watching the roaring flames, "Like I said a while ago, mercenary for hire. I couldn't make things, I couldn't develop ideas, I couldn't... create. Just destroy. Then I met a crazy man who sold crazy masks, and there was one particular one that... caught my interest, you could say," he winced at the biggest euphemism so far in his life, "So I planned to break it."
She looked utterly confused. "What?"
"You have no idea how evil that thing was, it was best it ceased to exist. The guy that owned it stopped me by making me his apprentice. And I royally sucked. Most of the scars on my hands are from making my first masks. They were terrible. Furore knows I wanted to quit."
"Why didn't you?"
"He said I could break that mask once I finished my apprenticeship; what did I have to lose?"
She managed to smile. "That's really mature."
"I'm well aware." Link deadpanned, making her laugh. It was nice seeing her wonderful smile, for the first time in many, many years. "I got better at mask-making, I inherited the business, and I finally put the mask away. But there are only so many carnivals around, so the only way for us to make enough money to stay in business was to make death masks."
She screwed her face. "What's a death mask?"
"Some places put plaster on the face of the deceased, get a mould, and make death masks from the mould for the family to keep, or to use to create a bust. Those upper body sculptures, you know? The people who can't afford that sort of thing hire people like us. Sometimes the death isn't pretty. Other times there might not even be a body, because they were lost at sea, or buried in a landslide. So we make masks that resemble the deceased, so the family can keep it in remembrance, or bury them in place of the missing bodies. Even the simplest slate with eyeholes and a few lines made people happy. I was making something. And people were happy. That... had never happened before."
She watched him stare at the fire, a smile perking up on his face. "The dead gave me a calling, I suppose. And there're only so many ways that you can say thanks to a corpse."
Link stood and packed away his things before turning back with a confused expression. "I thought Pamela was telling you two about her findings. Where is Jimmy anyway?"
Her smile was wan as he offered her his hand. "I told them I was tired, and I was going to try to sleep, but I saw you walking this way. If he asks, I was sleepwalking."
She held his hand and stood. His large paws easily enveloped hers. By gods they were so cold, and she looked so tired. Link would've given anything to hold her and tell her it was all going to be alright. "When you said that I was the first to compliment your eyes, does that include Jim?"
She scoffed, swaying on her feet. "He doesn't like them, remember?"
"Well then." Even if his heart felt like it'd been stomped on, a little bit of it inflated with a sense of victory. After all these years, he was still the first. "They really are beautiful."
But that soon fled his mind when her knees buckled and she fell like a stone, oily sweat beading her forehead, her eyes rimmed with bruises of insomnia.
-,-'-,-'-,-
"What the hell was she doing up there?" Jim demanded from the other side of the cot, "She said she was going to sleep!"
"It looked like she was sleepwalking," Link muttered as he laid a shivering Sheik onto the mattress that Pamela had provided, but before he could put her head to rest she bucked awake, punching Link right in the temple and giving a gasping, yelling wail that sounded completely and utterly scared.
"Bell!" Jim surged forward to try and hold her, "Calm down, it's okay, it's just a-"
"Don't touch me!" She shrieked, shoving him away, eyes wild.
Link fought back his dizziness as his head pounded. Clutching his abused head, he whispered in a coaxing tone, "We're not monsters, Sheik, we're your friends."
She shook her head frantically. "Never! Never!"
"Bell it's me! Jim! Look, you're awake, you're with me, now, see?" the young man looked shaken in his own way; Sheik had never pushed him away, the dreams had never invaded reality this far. "You're safe."
She looked at them, really looked at them, and her face crumpled and she started bawling her eyes out, a hysterical child completely succumbing to her nightmares. Jim hastily held her round the shoulders and she cried against his chest, her wails loud and hurt. "See?" he demanded, gently holding her shoulders, "She can't handle this power, she doesn't need it. Can't you get rid of it!"
"I'm just a mask-maker with a violent streak, Jimmy," Link groaned, kneading his forehead with the tips of his fingers, "I don't have that kind of power."
"Then what good are you?" he spat, holding his girlfriend tightly against his torso as if Link was the monster that was hurting her, "What's the point of you, chaperone?"
"The point of me, at this point, is to help my friend's sister as best I can."
"Screw you! I know what you are, I heard you!" he snarled, shifting his body enough to move himself slightly between Link and Sheik.
Link decided not to be goaded before standing to leave the tent. "Calm her down as much as you can. I'm going to bring some tea."
Outside, Link felt like punching something. He could fight demons, monsters, madmen and possessed objects. But why not dreams? What good was he, just like Jim said, if he couldn't protect one of the few people he cared about? And he was getting tea? Tea?
Link brutally kicked a large rock and sent it flying. The rock landed near his pack, where some of Pamela's men were loitering, tempted by Link's warning to look at any one of his masks.
The urge to pummel something to death became an urge to pummel himself and scream in frustration. Link chased them away with his murderous glare as he searched for a hated mask.
-,-'-,-'-,-
Sheik was rocking back and forth with the heels of her palms pressed firmly against her eyes, flinching whenever Jim touched her. She was constantly muttering something under her breath, and it sounded like some math equations.
"Sheik, I brought tea, if you want it," Link told her gently, but she shook her head.
"I want something stronger. Like coffee. Lots of coffee. I need to stay awake, I need to stay awake, I don't want to dream any of it anymore, I'm so scared so scared..."
He had no choice, then. Link sat in front of her and tapped her shoulder, asking her softly to look at him. When she did, he was holding a black bundle in his hand.
"You know the Mask of Truth, how it let you hear the Gossip Stone? There are other masks like that, with powers unique to it. This is called the All-night Mask; it drives away sleep."
"Then what are you waiting for?" Jim moved to snatch the mask from Link's hands and Link pushed him roughly away, sending him crashing against the ground.
"I'm not finished!" the Hylian snarled, turning his angry gaze on Sheik, looking her right in the eyes, "Unlike the Mask of Truth, this thing is cursed. It was created to be a torture device, to rob prisoners of sleep and break their minds for interrogation. Do you understand me? By wearing this you're cursing yourself, you're risking going insane. It will eat away at you until you're dead, if you don't remove it when you absolutely need to. Do you understand?"
She nodded. "I'll be careful. Just please, I don't want to go back, I don't want to dream."
Link bit his lip and handed it to her. With shaking hands she pulled it over her head, the fishnet mesh ruining her hair, the red-rimmed eyes of the mask reinforcing her look of anguish. She gasped, and her strength left her shoulders. "Thank Four."
She looked even worse in the Mask. It amplified her look of exhaustion, it made her look like a ghost from a nightmare. It made you want to leave her alone, never go near her, just allow her to sit in her corner and stare. Even loyal little Jim couldn't get near her.
Link hated himself. "Now. I'm cooking that octorok, so I hope you're not allergic to it. Sheik, I'm sorry to leave you alone, but once we've eaten Jim and I are going to have to sleep."
Jim's jaw dropped in his disbelief. "What? It's the middle of the day!"
"I'm going to go tell Pamela you're tired and I didn't get much sleep last night, which is true. We're going to need it; we're breaking into the Ikana Castle. Tonight."
Hahahaaaa! Build up and nothing much else! Lol. Sorry, the next chapter's kinda like that too, but there's Jim bashing. And a flashback into the past, which is cute. I hope. ;)
Anyway, review replies!
V musicka: In mind yeah, maybe, though I hadn't thought about it that much. XD The Dig sight is pretty much right in front of Pamela's house. Just pretend that there was like a fully abandoned village and catacombs and stuff, please. LOL. As for the age difference, it is like, bottomless fuel for frustrations and tension. XD LOVE IT. Yep, as you saw, the raiders were Pamela and co, but there're no real villain in this story, since mostly it deals with Link, his frustration, and his past. Hope you enjoyed!
K-shee: Yeah, Link! Suffer! (high-five back). XD You're right, I COULD'VE made Pamela more of a temptation than she really is, but that honestly hadn't occured to me. Oops XP. Nah, Link's no virgin, and he's had a few girlfriends. But they found his appetite scary and his masks scream worthy. And he just didn't like them too much. LOL. I hope you liked the somewhat tiny-ass Link/Sheik development, but it gets better! ...I think. Well, there's the Link/Jim conflict later?
goldenrhino: It's Furore because when I first started out I didn't know it was FArore. I only have the Jap version, so I didn't know the right name. When I heard I was mistaken, I couldn't be stuffed changing it, I couldn't stand the red squiggly spell-mistake line when I spelled Nayru, so I didn't want to add Farore to the list. Also, Din means 'loud noise'. So does 'Furore'. I thought the coincidence was funny so I kept it that way. That... was a very long explanation for something so silly. Sorry about that. XD
Erendan: I hope you got to see this, and I look forward to another review!
Raeya Kimani: YAAAYAYAYYYAAAY! XD Go the mask-making ritual! Woot! Thank you so much for your praise, and I hope you keep enjoying and reviewing!
Missing Triforce: I hope you liked this! Sorry to say nobody dies in this, though they get very, very close. Actually, wait, some people DO die. Only they're already dead. Ah, well, you'll understand later. Only Link and Zelda remembered the Lost Seven Years; Dampe of Termina knows about it because he saved Link's life and while the young hero was reovering Link talked about it to him. I hope to see you review! XD Thanks so much for your praise.
So, yeah... reviews? I'm happy to answer questions and stuff. :3 Even argue my point if you think some stuff doesn't make sense.
REVIEW PLEASE! \(T0T)/