-Prelude X-

Dampé never considered himself a particularly astute man. That's why he was a grave keeper, mind you, but he was an honest keeper at that. Digging up graves and providing a respectful place for the dead to rest wasn't exactly a job that required a lot of hard thinking like those mad Sheikah scientists. All it took was a strong and humble heart, and a willingness to get elbow deep in dirt.

And well, it seemed right to old Dampé that if he should be the one to tend to them, he should do it as well as his capable hands could.

It was funny, he thought, how being so close to the dead all the time humbled a man. He could recall the days of his youth like they were yesterday, when he took all life for granted and lived in excess. Oh, the time he wasted pursuing trifling things such as wealth and status, the countless days he spent drinking, gambling, and merry making till he was sick, and it was all for naught. For all of Dampé's toiling in the world in search of greatness, at the end of it all he only found himself marching down endless rows of tombstones, shovel hiked up over his shoulder and a lantern in hand to ward off the darkness and damp air.

But, as he saw it, that's just fate worked. There were those destined to reach for the stars, and those who were left to tend to the ground beneath them. There were those who the world would sing songs and write legends about, and there were those that kept that world turning all the same. The farmer, the smith, the builder and the cobbler; those folks were the real backbones of the world, and he fit right in among them.

Admittedly, it was a bit of a surprise for Dampé when he finally came upon the conclusion that he was quite alright with being a humble grave keeper. Someone had to do it. It was an honest a job as honest could be, and in that sense, he found a modicum amount of pride.

If only it weren't so cold all the time.

Summers came and went like clockwork, and yet in recent years his humble little field of well-kept memorials seemed quite incapable of warming up even a little. All through the long nights Dampé was certain his bones would rattle until they fell off if the weather didn't improve, and in the mornings his muscles were stiff and unyielding from the cold.

Must have been something with that big Beast everyone kept yammering on about brought. A portent to Hyrule's doom, they said. Bah, he never paid much mind to such nonsense! There was very little time for such fancy thinking when the dead needed caring for.

Besides, today, he had a guest that needed his full attention.

"Afternoon, Ma'am," old Dampé said politely, lifting his tattered soft-cap atop his head in greeting. "May I be of any service today?" The woman, who Dampé remarked as quite handsome in many senses, did not grace his question with an answer, but he didn't let it bother him.

Guests rarely ever did speak, not the new ones at least.

No, the handsome lady just sighed with somber dissatisfaction, and continued on her way, eyes cast downwards to the earth beneath her feet. Poor thing, he thought. Loss was such a heavy burden to carry, that he knew better than most. And so, giving himself a shake to rid the cold from his aging bones, Dampé set after the handsome lady.

"'Scuse me Ma'am," he continued. "I couldn't help but notice that you're upset. Now I know it ain't easy feelin's, but why don't you come and sit down and let your mind think on it for a bit. I'm sure you'll feel better in no time."

"I never got to see him before it was time," the handsome lady sighed, and with great sorrow too. Dampé assumed she spoke of some relative, perhaps even an old friend, but it was not his place to ask of such things. A good keeper never pressed to hard. Sometimes, time was just the best way of healing those sorts of hurts.

"But I suppose you are right," the handsome lady continued. "It would do my heart well to sit and think awhile."

"Ah, that's more like it, Ma'am. Come with me, I have a place prepared." With a warm smile, Dampé led his guest not but a few yards eastwards, where he tended to a lovely park bench overlooking a shallow pond. The faint creaking of the trees above and the gentle waterside song of the frogs was a soothing sound to take it. He thought the handsome lady might enjoy such a tranquil landscape.

Unfortunately, however, the handsome lady didn't seem to find much serenity in the beauty of nature. Her solemn eyes remained trodden and filled with distant thoughts. But that was just fine by Dampé, there would be more than enough time to adjust. No need to rush.

Over the years he had countless innumerable guests, and they were varied beyond measure. The old, the young, the humble and foolhardy… Yes, he had many visitors, and they all came round eventually. That was his job, after all, and old Dampé stuck by that responsibility.

"Well," he declared, "if you are in need Ma'am, don't hesitate to call on me. I'll be around."

"…"

Poor thing. Dampé knew she would be there for a while, so he let her have a little silence and peace. Besides, he had a flower bed to attend too. Even in the cold weather his beautiful young buds held on to life till the very last, and he had no intention of abandoning them wantonly to the frost. A warm blanket for them was in order to keep them from freezing once the sun set.

And for what seemed like a happy eternity, old Dampé knelt down in the soft soil and tended to his beloved plants until his back began to creak from being hunched over too long. He was getting too old, Dampé thought disdainfully. Even such trivial tasks made him feel like a door hinge in desperate need of oil. Everyday there seemed to be a new tweak or twinge, ache or throb.

Luckily, however, his attention was eventually swept away by a surprise visitor; a man of peculiar make.

He seemed like any other soldier Dampé had ever seen before, that young man wearing a hooded cloak. With the sword on his back and the way he marched around like a soldier in formation, no other job description could have fit better.

But it was not just his garb and manners that caught Dampé's attention. It was the young man's striking eyes that occupied his curiosity. Deep blue and wide, it seemed to Dampé that there were too many emotions to those eyes of his to even count. They expressed things that you just couldn't put into words, and yet at the same time they were hard and unrevealing as stone. It was just plain paradoxical.

It was as if his expression was forever affixed by two attitudes: two masks for one face, so to speak.

It was the strangest phenomenon he had seen in a while. Then again, spending all your time in a graveyard didn't warrant seeing very many phenomenal things to begin with. Perhaps, he thought, it was just his old age and long periods of isolation that altered his perception.

"Afternoon, Sir," Dampé called out, lifting the soft cap atop his head in greeting.

"Afternoon," the young man answered, though in a markedly soft and monotone voice.

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you like," Dampé declared. "I keep good company here. There's a lovely pond just around that bend with a bench to can sit at." But the newcomer didn't seem interested in that idea.

"You buried a middle-aged woman here recently," he noted, tugging at his hood as if to conceal his face a little better. Dampé was certain the young man intended to hide the glistening in his eyes. "Where exactly?"

"Oh, well," Dampé thought aloud. "I've buried many people before… but yes. Yesterday morning, it was. Sad business, kind Sir, but she rests easy now, over there by that pond. Go on through, good Sir, I'll let you have as much time as you would like."

"Thank you," the young man replied with a thoughtfully long pause, and began to walk in the direction of Dampé's pointing finger. The old grave keeper watched the young soldier with a keen and curious eye. Though he seemed a solemn lad, there was certainly a vigor about him that spoke of a man set on the trail of a long journey.

The world had much for him yet still.

But perhaps that thought was just the old grave keeper's idle fancies. He liked to think he was attuned with the comings and goings of the world, the invisible hand of fate turning folk left and right, but he could not swear by it. He was just a humble grave keeper after all, not some high and mighty prophet.

And so, keeping true to his work, old Dampé bent back down to tend to his lovely flowers, occasionally sparing an eye for the young man as he sat down at the pond bench in solitude with his eyes cast down to a fresh mound of dirt.

Poor little thing, old Dampé thought.

But, at the very least, it did warm his heart to see that handsome lady smile for the first time since she arrived as she wrapped unseen arms around the young lad in a long and meaningful embrace…

If only he could feel or sense it. How much better it would have been.

Chapter Twenty

Gerudo Desert

The desert always radiated with beauty under the pale light of the moon. It was something about how the light caught the shifting white sands, and the way the evening breeze brought a much-needed reprieve from the oppressive heat, and most importantly the peaceful silence…

Goddesses above it was so quiet.

Perhaps that was what Sir Alaric liked the most about the Gerudo Desert. Unlike Hyrule, nighttime seemed to mean something to the desert folk. Even in the Bazaar where he housed himself for the last couple of days, the sanctity of a peaceful night's rest was respected by native and traveler alike. There were no drunkards stirring up trouble, no loud taverns, no parties, just silence.

There was little more than the gentle breeze.

Yes, under the desert moonlight was where Sir Alaric felt most at ease. It was where he could enjoy a warm pipe and entertain his mind with enumerating thoughts. His mind often drifted to thoughts of his family, though he did not worry for them too much. He was confident they were safe and tucked away in bed now. He hoped his children were missing him… They always did grow feisty when he stayed away for work too long.

Unfortunately, however, it seemed they would just have to be patient. He would have to keep to his post till Sir Link arrived.

With a sigh, Sir Alaric glanced over the words left to him by the Princess just days before.

"'Do not concern yourself with my leaving,'" her note said, and he harrumphed. "'I sent word to Urbosa ahead of me, she will meet me and escort me the rest of the way safely. There will be no need for you to worry.'"

So she wasn't entirely a fool at least.

"'I tell you this alone because I can trust you. I need time away from the castle and my father, and most of all Him. Please explain to my father that there will be no need to rouse the whole country to search for me, I will be in Gerudo Village safe and sound."

"'P.S. don't tell Him where I am. I have no doubt he'll cause trouble.'"

"Not entirely a fool, but a fool girl all the same," Sir Alaric huffed. Where had all her good sensibilities gone? True, she was just a young girl and that meant there was room for adolescent foolishness, but he thought better of the sharp head on her shoulders. He thought she understood the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. Sir Alaric shook his head hopelessly.

At least she was safe. That was all that mattered.

Yes, she was safe alright under the watchful eyes of that gigantic desert chief, Urbosa. He was certain not even the whole host of Yiga sniveling somewhere out there in the dunes could lay a finger on the Princess with that brute watching over her. As long as the Princess didn't do anything stupid, that is.

Sir Alaric shook his head again because that was all he knew he could do now. She was no longer his burden by duty, but she was still his Princess. There was more than enough obligation in that to drag him away from his family and all the way out in the harsh lands of rock and sand.

Luckily, however, that very night there came the man he awaited to relieve him of his post.

Sir Link's golden hair was easy to spot among the moonlit dunes of the desert. He was like a small insect scattering up and down the shifting silt and judging by his encumbered pace it seemed the young lad had been on a long trek for quite a while. Too bad horses couldn't handle the terrain, they would have made the journey much easier.

Still, with a little time and effort, the young Hero arrived in the Bazaar safe and sound.

"Well. It certainly took you long enough to get here, lad," Sir Alaric called out from atop his stone perch above the Bazaar. "I was worried you would miss my letter back at the castle… but you are here now. That's all that matters."

"I apologize I've made you wander all the way out here on my accord," Sir Link answered in that voice as flat as a paving stone, but it still rung with honesty. "The Princess is well?"

"As well as she can be," Sir Alaric declared, clearing his pipe of tobacco and tucking it in his belt pouch before he climbed down the ladder to speak eye-to-eye to his comrade. "She expressly ordered me not to inform you she was here… but well…" Fool girl!

"I would have found out anyways," the young Knight said matter-of-factly. "The King had choice words for me when I first got back."

"As he should," Sir Alaric grunted, clapping Link on the back. "Were you not… well, the Hero, you would have been drawn and quartered for abandoning your post just like any man of rank." The way Link's eyes moved told Sir Alaric that he knew that fact well enough.

"But between me and you," the elder Knight continued with a long sigh, falling in beside his comrade as he continued his march eastward, "you're not the only one that needs a few choice words. Princess Zelda will hear from her father soon enough once you get her back to the castle. And this whole debacle has become quite the buzz around the common folk. You best watch yourself, Hero, gossip is a dangerous thing to a man in your position."

The young Hero nodded solemnly.

"So. What called you away so soon anyways, and without warning?" If his eyes served him right under the dim light of night, he was certain he saw muscles twitch all across Sir Link's stony face. For what reason he could not say. The boy was as expressive as a mollusk, and open even less so.

"It was nothing of consequence," the young Hero answered after a thoughtfully long pause.

"Is that what you told the King?"

Link nodded once.

Blowing air from his mouth, Sir Alaric harrumphed what must have been the hundredth time that night, and gave the young lad a tight squeeze on the shoulder. "I'm surprised he didn't draw and quarter you anyways, Hero. The King has always had a bit of a temperament, but I never witnessed him being merciful to Knights who gallivant off for 'nothing of consequence.' There is little more important to him in life than duty and responsibility, and he expects the same of his men."

"I understand."

"Do you, lad?" Alaric insisted, carefully tempering his voice to be both firm yet calm and constructive. "There is no more important thing right now than our duties to this kingdom. A storm is coming, Hero, and you and the Princess are at the forefront of it." As always, Link remained silent as the grave.

"Now I will not force you to tell me why you truly abandoned your post without warning―each man ought to have the right to his own privacy, and I know you are no fool―but I will tell you this. Whatever it is, it cannot jeopardize the safety of our Kingdom. I do not wish to sound hard or unsympathetic, Sir Link, but that is the way of the world. You are our destined Hero. We can't have you vanish on us for days at a time." Sir Link nodded firmly, but his eyes were markedly turned elsewhere, as if he thought to hide them.

With his piece spoken, Sir Alaric let the conversation breathe in silence as they marched there way to the gates of Gerudo Village. Why the boy wanted to come here at the dead of night, he couldn't say. It wasn't like they were going to let him in just because the sun was gone, but Sir Link seemed keen on trying anyways.

And as he expected, the sentries stopped him in his tracks with spears pointed to the throat, and of course Sir Link tried to argue his way in. And when that didn't work, he tried sneaking his way in. Of course, Sir Alaric knew that wasn't going be successful, he had tried himself many times before, and each time he ended up right back where he started, winded, knocked on his ass, and embarrassed.

No, Sir Alaric accepted the wiser path, and took a seat against the stone walls of the village, and continued his contemplative smoking. The least he could do before he left in the morning was make sure Link didn't get himself hurt trying to force his way into that damnable fortress of women.

One could only imagine Sir Alaric's utter surprise when Sir Link actually did manage to find a way inside in the most peculiar fashion.

Of course, his plan required assistance from the inside, but luckily it seemed the mighty Urbosa had mind to play on both sides. With a curling grin, she offered the young Hero a helping hand.

Things will get better for little Link, I swear! Don't lose heart!

-Bold