"The tiny Picori appeared from the sky, bringing the hero of men a sword and a golden light."
The Demanding Winds
He gazed down at The Surface, but his view was obscured by the endless clouds below.
What was it like? Down on The Surface?
The Minish boy frowned as he willed the cloud barrier to part, but even a being of the winds was no match for the power of the godess. He resigned himself to failure and crawled away from the edge of the island.
Resolutely he kicked a speck of dirt as he made his way back to the Minish village. His people had been spared, whether through luck or fate, he didn't care. As he wandered absent-mindedly, he picked a clover to use as a parasol. The green light filtered through the leaves, casting his pale face in a sickly light.
The Minish sniffed and wove his way through the tall grass that hid his village from view of the Skyloftians. Nestled as it was within the roots of a large tree, even children had a hard time finding their little village. Sulking, he tromped through the town with his clover slung over his shoulder. Master would certainly chastise him for taking so long. But seeing as it was such a nice day, he would most likely be lenient. If anything, the Wind Sage would be lounging about himself.
The young wind acolyte frowned as he entered the quiet white halls of the Minish Wind Temple. He hated the temple. It was nowhere near grand enough. His people never thought big enough.
Simple and unassuming in its design, there were even Minish who didn't know where the temple was.
"Master!" The boy called out as he set his clover parasol on a pile of papers that sat precariously on a rickety wooden table, "Master?!"
There was no hint of a sound in the cluttered workroom of the Wind Sage.
Sighing, the acolyte tousled his hair in frustration, "Master!"
He clambered over the remains of a long discarded project. Time and time again he had offered to dispose of the thing, but his Master would only shout at him that it was a work in progress, that he was merely sleeping on it.
And sleep on it they did. It was rather uncomfortable, but there was no other place to sleep than atop the piles and piles of in-progress creations.
/\/\/\
"Master!" He called out again, carefully climbing toward the lone ladder that led to the open-aired courtyard, although calling it something so grand as an open-aired courtyard was misleading. The courtyard, or so his Master called it, was nothing more than a small open space on the roof of the one room temple. Plants were grown here in the name of research, although the Minish boy was certain it was more for the pretty Minish woman who ran the local bakery. Master would often take her flowers claiming they were the rarest of flowers and how they couldn't compare to her beauty, or some rubbish like that.
The young acolyte popped his head out into the bright sunshine. He squinted sharply and scanned the overgrown garden of weeds for the Wind Sage.
Sure enough, there he was, sitting in the clearing at the center of the courtyard, tending some tiny flower. A faint clattering noise told the boy that his Master was hard at work for once.
"Master!" He called again as he pulled himself onto the landing, "I've returned with the ingredients you wanted."
There was no response. No doubt the sage was sulking because he had taken so long. The Minish boy blew a lock of pale silver hair out of his face before moving toward the old man.
"I apologize for taking so long Master, but finding a cave with pure water that comes from the world of old was more difficult than I thought." He waited for a response, but when none came he continued, "And finding a stone inhabited by the speakers of the dead was impossible. I searched for days, but I couldn't find one. And I couldn't find a stone inhabited by the watchers of the living either. I'm sorry, Master."
The only sound that filled the air was that of the consistent faint clatter.
The boy frowned and sighed, he pulled his pointed cap from his head and balled it up in his fist. "Master!" he shouted whapping the wind sage over the head.
"Huh? Wha?" The man mumbled as he yawned. "Ah... That was an excellent nap! Oh!" He turned to look at his young apprentice. "You've returned! About time! Thought I was going to die of old age before you got here. What took you so long?"
"Master, you've still got a few hundred years to go before you can talk like that." The Minish boy said, slapping his purple cap back onto his head.
The Wind Sage chuckled as he stretched, "Well, nevermind that. Come have a look at this!" He pointed to the source of the strange clattering noise. "Fascinating isn't it?! I found it while you were out gallivanting through the forest having a picnic."
The boy frowned at the comment, but thought it best to ignore the slight. "So what is it?"
"It appears to be of the Baba genus, exhibiting behavior similar to the dionae muscipula."
The boy blinked, "The what?"
The Wind Sage either did not hear, or chose to ignore him, "It can be rather dangerous, but I think it will be useful in the future." He sighed and crossed his arms across his chest, "The great dangers I face in the name of research."
His acolyte coughed, trying to contain the quip that was on the tip of his tongue.
Again his master presumably ignored him, "I wonder if there are plants like this on The Surface. Well I suppose we'll find out soon enough."
The boy blanched, "What? Master what did you just say?"
There was a sparkle in the Wind Sage's eye, "Hm? Finally exhibiting an interest in my work now, are you? Very well the di-"
"No, no, no, the part about The Surface. What did you say?"
"Oh... that." The Wind Sage stooped his shoulders and turned to pick up the potted plant, "We're to go to The Surface, apparently Her Grace is in need of assistance."
"But Her Grace is dead."
The Wind Sage cringed, "Now, now don't put it so bluntly, goodness have some tact!" He brought a hand to his heart. The boy thought the reaction was overly dramatic given that the Goddess Hylia had been dead for a good hundred years by now.
He watched his master gingerly placed the chittering plant next to some dried brown nuts with a gold interior.
"Her Grace may have passed on, but her light lives on. She's not truly gone from this world, at least not yet." He nudged the nuts carefully to one side as if afraid they were going to explode. "The world below is still tainted with darkness. I dare say it's about to be consumed by the beasts of the shadows. Her Grace needs us to deliver her Light to the dark world below. "
~{ 0 }~
The acolyte's heart was pounding in his chest, "Does that mean, Her Grace... I mean the next Hylia is asking us for help?"
The Wind Sage stood up and shrugged, "Well at the very least my help. You're mainly there to help me carry my things."
The Minish boy's face fell, but his heart was still floating on the wind. The Surface! What would it be like? What was he saying? He didn't have to wonder any more.
"Anyway, we better get cracking. We should've left ages ago, but someone was taking their sweet old time doddering about on an afternoon stroll admiring the clouds."
A faint blush made itself known on the boy's face, "My apologies, Master."
"Well no harm done. To us at least. The rest of our group have already headed down, no doubt they've already informed the next hero of men about our coming."
The boy started, "But if others were going, why didn't you just have them take the sword to the chosen hero?"
"And make them carry that ghastly heavy thing? Goodness no! That's something reserved for a strapping young Minish like yourself. I'd carry it myself, but I've got something more important to deliver to Her Grace." He brought a hand to his chest and paused in the golden light of the afternoon sun. For some reason, he seemed younger today, full of youth and life.
"Besides, I've always known that you've craved to see the land below, boy. Especially since you had a chance to learn from that nice surface dweller a few months ago. What's-his-name? He was such a polite young man! The one with the pale skin."
The Wind Sage snapped his fingers, trying to remember the name. He resigned himself to ignorance, "Bah! I'm sure I'll remember it sooner or later. I dare say you're starting to copy his style too, what with the spell for image transformation you're using." He shivered as a cloud moved across the sun, bringing with it a cold breeze. "Can imagine why you'd make your eyes so blood-shot, makes it look like you haven't slept in ages. Still, I'm glad we got the Minish Cap up and running in time for his visit. You know the desert boy. The one from the Sh-"
The boy smiled, perhaps too happily as he tuned his master out. The Surface! The Surface! The land filled with magic, the likes of which he had never seen. He wanted that power! He needed that power! He would demand it from his true master!
If it was everything his true master had promised he would not be disappointed. Perhaps, his true master would be able to teach him more in the ways of the shadow.
/\
He would become a sorcerer.
No longer would he tire away as a meager apprentice!
Soon, all would call him Master!
A much more coherent chapter than the usual, and not as mysterious. The price I pay for trying to organize my thoughts.
They say Vaati really likes the eye motif... like certain others...
