Chapter Eleven
Simple Prevaricates
Zelda had to admit, she did not expect Milos to keep a good pace beside her. Even as he bounced up and down in the saddle of his shaggy mare, keeping one white-knuckled hand on the reins and the other on the instrument strapped across his back to stop it from slipping off its shoulder strap, Zelda's bard rode abreast with all the fair speed he could muster. It was surprising to say the least, but in a good way.
After all, her trusty bard wasn't exactly cut out for the rugged life out on the road. He was used to the simpler, more refined living of Hyrule's courts, where the food was easy to come by and the beds were soft and warm. But it appeared that he was quite determined to keep his promise to not slow her down. After all, Milos had been the one to insist he accompany her on this… spur of the moment trip to Rito Village, not her.
At any rate, she was just glad to have given her new Appointed Knight the slip.
Pulling her reins back, Zelda eased her horse into a slow canter, and then a brisk walk. Her companion did the same, looking at her curiously. And after quickly checking the small indicator on the Sheikah Slate at her hip, Zelda answered his unasked question, saying, "it's a quarter past seven, we won't make it to Rito Village today, Milos. Perhaps we should break and make camp before it gets dark. I doubt Sir Link will be catching up to us anytime soon." She said that last part with a hint of pride, and Milos smiled, nodding eagerly. It seemed the Hero wasn't quite as capable at everything as everyone thought. He could be outrun. All it took was a little planning and quick action.
"I hope it doesn't rain, Princess," Milos said, looking hesitantly up to the evening sky, counting the sparse dark clouds hanging above them. "I didn't have time to get a tent."
"I doubt it will rain," she said confidently, leading her mount off the side of the road in a little clearing where the rocky terrain formed a natural bowl-like shape against a small precipice, and a creek trickling with cool spring water into a pond down the hill. "And I didn't bring a tent either, just a tarp to hang over us in case we do get unlucky. It'll be more than enough to shelter us for the night, and a fire will keep us warm."
"Oh… a fire…" Milos scratched behind his ear awkwardly. "I've never made a fire out in the wilderness before, Princess… but I'll try my best!" Zelda chuckled a little. He truly was a courtier through and through. Not that she could blame him though, it wasn't as if bards were exactly expected to know how to survive out in the wild on their own.
"Don't worry, I'll show you how." Luckily, Sir Alaric had taught her how to start a fire with only the bare necessities, a lesson she now thanked him for in her head. In fact, her former Appointed Knight had taught her countless things in their time together out on the road… 'The wilds of Hyrule are lush and plentiful lands, Princess,' she remembered him saying once. 'All it takes is a little know how, and you can scavenge yourself a meal fitting of any royal.' But the memory turned sour in her mind when she remembered why he was officially her former Appointed Knight.
When they had tied off their horses and relieved them of their saddles after a nice long drink from the creek, Zelda led Milos through the basics of starting a fire out in the wild. From gathering the driest wood available, to igniting a flame with a tinder box and flint, she taught her companion the little tricks to make the whole process easier, and in no time at all they had a roaring fire to cozy up next to.
Zelda of course had to the forethought to save them the trouble of having to find food on the road, so once she was certain the campfire would stay nice and warm for hours to come, she used a long stick to shovel the blisteringly hot coals from the heart of the fire into a neat and level pile between two elevated rocks and balanced a small cooking pot across it. It was a crude sort of stove, really, but it worked wonders in a pinch.
"I'm not a very good cook," she admitted, unfurling a small parchment wrapping that was tucked in the bottom of her saddle bag, revealing two plentiful cuts of raw beef. "But I can sear up a palatable steak at the very least." The meat crackled and popped satisfyingly as it hit the surface of the hot pan, and the smells that tickled their noses enticed them to sit closer to the fire while their stomach growled like wild wolves until at last their dinner was cooked.
With eager grins, they both took their first bites, and sighed with relief.
Although the meat was rather plain in flavor―regrettably, Zelda did not have time to find and pack any spices or salt―it was tender and juicy, which more than made up for the lack of taste. And so, as their rumbling tummies at last had their fill and fell silent, they were left happy and content enough to roll out their bedrolls, and rest idly by the campfire. Zelda and her bard gazed up into the stars that appeared while the sun sank below the horizon, until utter darkness consumed the world outside their little campfire.
Zelda glanced over to Milos when the soft notes of his strange Sheikah instrument gently drifted over the camp, and for a long while she just enjoyed the tranquility and simplicity of the sights and sounds around her. The droning call of the crickets, the gentle breeze fluttering through the leaves of the trees, the night time song of the Evening Gale, and the trickling of the nearby creek.
It was all so… peaceful.
"Would you like to hear a riddle, Princess?" Milos asked, his music slowing into a waltz-like tune. "My old teacher used to be just full of them. I was sure to write down the best of them."
"Yes, please," she replied. The bard grinned widely and cleared his throat, attention split equally between his playing and the Princess.
"How about this," he said, cleverly. "'The more you take, the more you leave behind… what am I?'" Zelda smiled and pondered over the possible answers.
"That one is easy," she said with a small laugh. "Footsteps."
"Precisely," the bard replied warmly. "You have a sharp intuition Princess, as always. How about this one… 'I am always in sight, but just outside of reach. Though you may climb mountains and cross oceans to grasp me, forever distant I will be. For every step you take, then one more shall I take. What am I?"
Now that was one was a little bit harder, but the sense of mystery enthralled her. Her first instinct was to assume the answer was some sort of abstract idea… Progress, she thought, but quickly dismissed it. Eternity… Yes, the idea of eternity had merit to it… but it still didn't seem quite right. She offered it anyways.
"Is it eternity?"
Milos paused thoughtfully. "That's not the original answer," he said, "but now that you mention it, it very well could be." He laughed. "Like I said, Princess, you have a very sharp mind; not everyone can find different answers to a riddle. I applaud you."
"You flatter me, Milos, but I'm not that sharp. You should try giving your hardest riddles to Purah. She could think of a hundred answers for each of them."
"Oh I've tried," Milos chuckled, "and even when she did get one wrong we'd argue about it for hours until I found myself admitting defeat. But I supposed that's what it means to be a Sheikah, through and through. Legends say we have eyes for truth, even when we are wrong."
"I suppose that in itself is a riddle." The Sheikah truly were an enigmatic people. At least when compared to their Hylian counterparts. But Milos was quite approachable, like his near-kin, Purah and Robbie. She was glad he had insisted on accompanying her.
"What is the actual answer?" she asked.
"The horizon." The bard's strumming grew softer, like the gentle flowing of a lullaby.
"I think I like that answer better," Zelda said, stretching her arms and cradling her head as she gazed back up at the heavens, admiring their light show. "Do you have any more riddles?"
Milos smiled. "'If you look you cannot see me. And if you see me you cannot see anything else. I can make anything you want to happen, but later everything goes back to normal. What am I?'"
"Now that one…" Zelda hummed thoughtfully and tried to wrap her brain around the idea. This one was certainly abstract. What on earth could not be seen if you look, but if you saw it you could see nothing else? That in itself was contradictory.
"Your imagination." Zelda bolted upright in shock. It was not Milos nor herself that gave that answer. The voice was far deeper than either of theirs, but Zelda recognized it bitterly.
They had been found.
How he managed to make his horse walk alongside him without stirring a single sound―not a drop of the hoof or clink of a bridal―she could not fathom, but as he approached the halo of light cast by their campfire, Link's silhouette took form in the pitch black of night like a shadow, until at last he was close enough to be made out by the harsh yellows and oranges of the fire.
And he didn't seem very happy. Not one bit.
For anyone else it would have been a look of mild irritation, but on that usually stoic face of his it was clear cut anger by comparison. Milos rushed to his feet, as if to challenge the new comer, but he hadn't a dagger or sword on him to protect their camp, even if Sir Link meant them harm.
Tentatively, Zelda and her bard watched in tense silence as he tied his horse of at the nearest tree, and then drew near the fire, stretching sinewy fingers out to the flames. The cloak on his back was wet with the dew brought by the nights cold chill, but he seemed to not care.
For what felt like an eternity Link merely gazed into the fire, running his hands over the flame till he was satisfied, and sat down, unstrapping the sword across his shoulder and balancing it on his crossed knees. His eyes were hard to find under the shadow of his hooded cloak, but Zelda could feel the weight of them on her and her bard.
Milos was the first to crack under his scrutiny, and asked, "how did you find us?"
"Horse tracks aren't hard to follow," Link said curtly. "Especially when the riders take little care to lose them." Silence ensued again, and the eerie sensation of his eyes boring through Zelda worsened. For a fleeting moment she questioned if he truly was something more than Hylian. Not even her father could command the oppressive sensation that his impregnable silence created.
She could hear her heart beating. A dull thumping in her eardrums.
"So, you have nothing to say?" she asked, succumbing to the silence. "No admonishments?"
"What good will relaying them do?" he retorted firmly. "It is clear you don't want to hear them, nor would you heed them even if I did speak."
"Humor me," she said briskly out of spite. Link took a deep breath, and then exhaled in a long, irritated sigh.
"As your Appointed Knight it is my duty to keep you safe." He paused and turned his head slightly to bear down more precisely on Milos. "Not little court bards." Milos opened his mouth to retort vehemently, but he was quickly was overpowered by the Knights haunting stare. "You know full and well, Princess," he continued, "that danger could be waiting around any corner, any tree, bush, or boulder. If anything happens to you then we are all put in jeopardy. The Champions. The people. All of Hyrule. Regardless of how you feel on the matter, you must be protected at all costs. I have my duty, and you have yours. That is all. Goodnight."
And that was it. With absolute finality, he stood and returned to his horse to tend to it, gently relieving it of its heavy saddle bags and giving it water from the creek. Milos scooted closer to Zelda sheepishly, almost as if he were frightened by the looming knight just outside of the fire light, and neither said another word to each other.
The whole camp was filled with nothing but the sounds of the fire crackling, and the crickets droning. There was nothing to distract Zelda from the whirlwind of emotion swirling in her chest; anger, frustration, hopelessness. She had planned on outmaneuvering Link for even a day or two longer, knowing she wasn't going to outrun him forever, but… goddesses so soon? Not even a full day? She wanted to scream but couldn't. She wanted to deride her Appointed Knight, use anything she could to get the moral upper hand on him, but her lips were frozen shut.
And so, defeated, Zelda curled up into her bed roll, and watched in stark silence as Link kept watch over the camp, staring into nothing, and occasionally adding wood to keep the flames kindled to fend off the dark and cold.
Within the hour, the Princess and her bard had finally stopped uncomfortably shifting in their bedrolls―the telltale signs of slumber―and at last allowed himself to lean his back against the soft and warm belly of his resting horse. After a long day of sprinting, the poor thing needed to recuperate, so she sprawled out on the soft grass. His chosen beast of burden was a surprise find, in all honesty. A black mare of humble stock; she wasn't particularly fast or agile, but she was sure footed and incredibly receptive to his nudges.
Sasha was no valiant charger, that was for certain, but a fine horse all the same. More than he could ask for. She had carried him faithfully this far, and tomorrow she would do the same.
And so, under the dim fire light, Link retrieved his thin leather-bound notebook from his bags and began recording the day's events in short entries. It was a habit he picked up from Mipha. She was very adamant about keeping a diary―though she never let him read hers when they were children for some reason―and encouraged him to do the same.
In fact, she was the one that had gifted him the notebook in the first place. It felt rude not to use it.
And so, Link took a small pencil and roughly sketched in what he wanted to say, letting the withheld unpleasant words spinning wildly in his head leave his body through his fingers, immortalizing them in writing, and then closing the pages shut, fully intending to never look back on them again. It was the easiest way to let go. The only way.
"Milos." Link heard the Princess's soft voice whispering, even from afar. Words clearly not intended for his ears. "What was the answer to the last riddle?"
"He was right," the bard replied quietly.
"What?"
"He was right," Milos repeated, with a hint of disdain. "The answer is 'your imagination.'" The Princess murmured something to herself, and then sighed. "He shouldn't have spoken to you that way," the bard continued conspiratorially. "Its not right for a Knight to disrespect a lady like that, much less a princess."
The boy paused, and then as if to himself, he grumbled, "I ought to punch him in his smug nose. Teach him a lesson or two."
The Princess didn't respond. She merely sighed despondently and turned in her bedroll to gaze up at the stars. "Why him?" she asked of the heavens but heard no reply.
Bitterly, he asked the goddess above the same thing. But his answer did not come from above. It came from the blade resting in his lap. It gave the same answer it gave every time he asked that damned question.
Because you alone are worthy to wield the ancient power, the voice whispered, but he ignored it. If he was going insane then he had no intention of humoring the voices inside his head. There were more than enough voices outside that were driving him crazy already.
Gasp! A section of the story from Link's perspective? Yes, your eyes do not deceive you. Although, don't get too used to it, its a rare occurrence, my friends. But also, don't worry. We'll learn more about whats inside that head of his eventually, one way or the other!
Till then, please review and let me know what you think!
-Bold
