6
The ruins of Kakariko were eerily quiet as we made our way back to the mountain pass. We neither saw nor heard any of the men who'd watched my trek through the village earlier that evening, but the knights knew no fear; rising in the lavender sky was the moon, its body gibbous and illuminating our path out. Even if I wasn't being escorted by two of my captors, the golden luster of Anton's armor was impossible to miss in the moonlight. Our footsteps crunched the grass beneath us, nearly masking the whisper of a quiet breeze. Overall it was a beautiful night, one that reminded me of midnight mischief and secret forest treks.
That said, my disposition would have been a lot cheerier were I not being practically dragged along by the knights in silver. Being pulled at the arms meant that my side was screaming at me for relief, and the pain was such that walking, let alone speaking, was an arduous task. I considered vocalizing my pain more emphatically, but the track record of the knights' courtesy left me doubtful it'd lighten my treatment.
"Could you trudge any slower?" came Anton's voice from in front of me. "Dilly-dallying is the last thing we need do outside the castle walls."
"He's injured, Sir," replied one of the men who walked beside us. Unlike Anton, his voice was softer and more uncertain.
"Clearly. But I shan't have some trivial wounds from a bar fight be the death of us."
"Monsters," I corrected through gritted teeth.
"Come again?"
"I was attacked by monsters."
At this, Anton finally stopped, using his momentum to arc around and face me. I didn't need to see his face to glimpse the irritation in the act. "And I'm to take the word of some ne'er do well that he's done battle with monsters? After finding his sorry self sat amidst a tavern brawl that rowdy?" He gave a boisterous laugh. "You'll pull no such wool over my eyes. Why, you're not even armed!"
I made to argue further but was silenced by the pain flaring up my side. Anton took this in for a moment before gesturing to continue forward, and the men at my arms pulled me along at a less forgiving rate than before. The knight who had pointed out my condition looked as if he had something to say but merely resumed pace and began studying me from a distance.
It was not long after that the pass loomed before us, blotting out the moonlight and casting massive shadows over the trail. It was here the knights finally hesitated, giving me the briefest of pauses to work through the pain. Only Sir Anton pressed forward, as fearless as he was callous to my condition.
"Come along, now," he said, and after a moment the squad regained their courage to descend into the darkness.
I was not prepared for the totality of the shadows in the pass. Specks of starlight glinted at us from above, the only hints of a potential path forward. The absence of light gave way to the sounds of our trek intensifying: all around me, the clanking of metal ringing in the hollow space; above me, the increasingly labored breathing of the men hauling me along; below me, the gravelly skidding of my feet dragging through dirt; and under it all, the low hum of wind urging us forward. We moved slowly, feeling out the path, and I felt the group realign to gradually make the turn I had done so easily with daylight. I was reminded that there were stairs incoming, which Anton confirmed with a stomp that rang of stone. At this, the squad slowed further as more clanks transformed from dirt to step.
Soon it was our turn to descend. "You're going to have to put some effort in," came a quiet whisper from my left side. It took me a moment to realize that he was talking to me.
"But don't even consider trying to run," said another to my right. "There're only two directions to go, and we know you won't get far." I didn't reply but nonetheless brought myself to a careful stand. With both knights still holding onto me, we took careful steps down the pass as a singular unit.
What followed was a procession displaced from time. The minutiae of such small and careful steps combined with the lack of light made it impossible to tell whether a minute or an hour passed, the only punctuation the burning of my legs. The long trail of stars above promised an end somewhere, and I looked to them for some sort of salvation from the tedium and pain.
"Stop." It was just a whisper, but Anton's command crackled like wildfire, putting everyone on high alert. "Tektites. Shields above the head."
All around me came the sound of shields being unclasped as the knights let go of my arms. I wanted to inquire as to why this was happening at all, but soon I caught the noise Anton must have been listening for: far up above our heads, there was a pattering of something hitting rock in uneven patterns. The movement of shields being lifted almost drowned the sound out entirely, but the stillness that followed confirmed that the noise was growing steadily louder. With most of my reference animals being either too large or too small to match, I couldn't identify what exactly a "tektite" was. All I could guess was that were maybe five or six of them overhead somewhere.
Suddenly, the pattering stopped. The pass was quiet. The knights were motionless, but I felt their breath as if they were my own. The hum of the pass reverberated around us, the stars above seemingly pulsing in response. I wondered for a moment what would happen to me given I didn't have a shield.
Then, after a long pause, the pattering resumed. We held for another moment before confirming that the sound was indeed moving away from us. Gradually, silence returned to the pass.
The tension dissipated like a spring uncoiling. I too exhaled with the knights, and the clanking of shields shifted around me.
"Onward," came Anton's voice from somewhere below. It was followed by low whispering and careful footsteps.
"What are tektites?" I whispered to the men at my sides.
"Nasty things," said the knight to my left. "By themselves they're more a nuisance than a threat, but when they drop from a height like that they're heavy enough to break necks. Lost a couple of men to them earlier this year."
"It's how I was knighted, unfortunately," came a soft voice I recognized as the knight concerned over my injuries earlier.
"No fraternizing with the prisoner," grunted the knight to the right. His grip on my bruised arm tightened as if emphasizing his irritation. I said nothing further and focused on the trail of stars above.
It was not long after that when the glittering road above came to a halt further ahead. An initial panic set in before I remembered that there was one final turn before the field opened up. I sighed as my feet burned with each step and pressed forward to reach the bottom of the stairs.
"Time to see if the horses made it," said the knight to my left. A slight apprehension settled in amongst the men. I myself was struck by a memory brought on by the mention of horses, one of Therel loading medicinal paste onto the elder's animal. I'd been enamored with the creature and its warm chestnut coloring before it gave up the ghost some five years back. Thinking fondly of that memory, I clung to it as we rounded the turn and returned to the glow of moonlight.
My breath caught when the view came into sight: the bright night illuminated the rolling hills, and they casted striking shadows as far as the eye could see. Pale green grass became a blanket beneath the stars, the trodden paths creases in the moonlight. The rock formation in the center of the field sat as an island at sea, banners visible even now against the illuminated stone behind them. Lyna Forest, meanwhile, sat on the horizon, almost sinister now in the dim contour of its trees. The great wall to my right was almost as white as the moon itself, a giant strip of marble from where we were standing. I was reminded that it was to be our destination, and found myself wondering what wonders and horrors awaited behind it.
At the foot of the steps sat our escort. Two more knights in silver attended a herd of nine horses, all saddled and covered in light armor. One steed was clad in gold, signalling that it was Anton's ride back to wherever he came from. The knights turned their attention to us as we made our way down the final flight of stairs and kneeled when Anton approached.
"I see the horses are unharmed," said Anton as he gestured for them to stand.
"Indeed, Sir. The clear night repels the curse, and we've encountered scarce few of the stalchildren since nightfall."
"Then Hylia may still be smiling upon us yet." He turned back to us. "Saddle up; I'll not chance this good fortune leave us by lingering any longer than we must."
The two knights holding me captive let go of my arms to tend to their animals. Seeing one of them mount their horse gave my side a dull throb. "What about me?"
"Ride with your choice of knight," he replied dismissively as he saddled up, "but not me. Draw blades of grass if you must, but be quick about it."
The knights looked at each other for a moment, considering who was to be unlucky enough to haul me around. "I'll carry him," said the soft-voiced knight. He climbed onto his horse and gestured for me to approach.
"I don't know if I can climb up," I said uncertainly when I reached him.
"I'll help you. Here, get a foothold in the stirrup to start."
I did as he instructed, putting my left foot in the stirrup and taking his outstretched hand. Then I was up, right leg clearing the saddle, and an explosion of pain hit my body as if I'd slammed into the ground from a great height. The knight caught me as my body froze up and I gasped for air as he realigned me to a proper sitting position.
"Good," said Anton, "now let's be off."
"Sir, if we ride now, I fear he'll go into shock."
"He'll have to hold out until we reach the castle. Her Majesty's orders were strict on time."
"Hold on to my plate mail as best you can," he told me, but I couldn't respond back. The new pain surging through me was the worst yet, so instead I nodded as I seethed. With that out of the way, the knights urged their horses onward to the vast fields ahead.
Riding on an animal for travel was something new to me; the galloping of the horse would have been dizzying if not for my condition demanding my full attention. It took everything in me to clutch the knight's breastplate and keep upright. The stonework to the right and the night sky above became blurs as we crossed the distance at a speed inconceivable to me earlier that day. The hoofbeats of the knights' steeds thundered around me, drowning out all else that I cared to listen for; the cool touch of wind licked at my sides, the knight taking the brunt of it. All the while my body seized in agony, and I feared the knight would be right about me going into shock.
The appearance of the drawbridge was sudden, and the horses slowed to a trot as Anton approached the moat. "Lower the bridge!" he bellowed in his sing-song manner. "Sir Anton commands it!"
Unlike my attempts earlier that day, his was quickly met as the chains groaned and the bridge came to life. I scowled as it creaked its way down to our bank. It clunked noisily onto the ground as Anton signaled to move forward.
"Hang on for just a bit longer," said the soft-spoken knight. "We'll get you a bit of the red soon enough." I had no clue what he meant but nodded anyway as we crossed into the interior of the great wall above.
We were greeted by what I assumed to be the gatekeeper. He too wore similar garb to the knights, but stood out on account of his portly figure and lighter armor. "Greetings, Sir Anton. Another successful mission, I take it?"
"I should hope so, Hagen." He gestured for my horse to be brought forth. "Do your men recognize this boy?"
"I saw him, Sir," came a voice from behind Hagen. I tilted my head around the knight to see a soldier stepping forth. "He came from the forest and shouted at us as we were closin' the gate." I didn't recognize the man, but given the height they'd been at I had no way of knowing if he'd actually been there or not.
Hagen scratched the back of his neck. "I'll speak to his credibility, Sir: Gepper here was stationed upon the ramparts this evening as the sun set."
"I'll take the man at his word, then," said Anton. "Any other developments since we set out?"
"Raise the bridge!" Hagen grumbled as his command was met and the bridge behind us creaked to life. "Just that blasted owl again. He's been coming around more frequently as of late. I keep worrying he'll snatch up one of our horses. Goddess knows he's big enough to try."
"And why haven't your men shot the blight out of the sky yet?"
Even I could see the gatekeeper's face twitch to hide his irritation. "With all due respect, Sir Anton, it'd not be worth the arrows. My men take shots at it every time it flies by but none have hit it. One man claims he aimed true, but that was three weeks ago, so either he missed or it's made of sturdier stuff than my armor."
"Hmm. Well, see to it that your men get some target practice in. Horses are a commodity nowadays." He turned back to us. "Let us make haste! We ride full speed to the castle."
I felt the trepidation of the knight I clung to before he even spoke. "But, Sir—"
"Does it please you to act like a squire?" said Anton sharply. The knight went quiet. "It's unbecoming of a knight to so freely challenge his superior's orders. The boy will last; the less you contest me, the faster he shall receive treatment. Am I understood?"
"...Yes, Sir."
"Then enough of this folly. Onward!" He set his horse to a gallop and the remaining men had little choice but to match pace.
The towering walls gave way to residential buildings of brick and tile, all color muted by the shade of night. Unlike Kakariko, these were spared the dereliction of the mountain village and instead were worn but sturdy. The cobblestone path between them was cast in their shadows, but light from the rising moon peeked over and tickled the tops of walls. Alleyways between buildings faded into darkness, placing an irrational fear in me that something lurked where I couldn't see. My eyes darted to movement in the black, only to find through light yips that a pack of small dogs played for scrap.
As we moved further inward, the buildings began to transform, newer wooden structures intermingling with clean-carved stone. Far ahead, the moon revealed a distant clearing free from the grasping shadows. "It's a shame you're seeing Castle Town at night." The knight's mumbling was hard to hear over the clopping of hoof against stone. "It's quite bustling during the daytime."
"This makes my village look like a toolshed," I replied in a thin tone. It was all I could manage as I searched for a tightrope balance of breathing and seething.
He noted my condition and added, "The market's up ahead. From there, we ride to the castle grounds."
As if on cue, we burst into the market square, and the claustrophobia of the surrounding buildings gave way to the open space of cobblestone and moonlight. The structures that outlined the perimeter were the most recently built yet, some adorned with decorations and signs that seemed to allude to the various services they offered. One would have been particularly flashy were it not nighttime, the contrasting reds and greens dim around a frog-like face whose mouth contained the words "Happy Mask Shop." Another had what appeared to be pottery depicted above the entrance, and its neighbor to the right featured a rather unpleasant bearded face. Market stalls sat empty; had it been day I would have called it a ghost town. Above the shops rose the steeples of a great stone edifice, a bell tower lording over buttress children. Looming even further beyond was that ringed mountain, seemingly inescapable in its towering height.
The actual interior of the square itself was sparse in comparison. A fountain sat in the middle by its lonesome, the space about it peppered with plants that seemed to serve more as decoration than a garden. There were a few thin trees—
The horses saw the owl before I did.
It sat in the corner to our right atop one of the trees, bending the bole into an arc and using it as a makeshift branch. The shadow of the building above had hidden it from first glance, but now I could make out the cream-colored body outlined by russet feathers. In the split second before the horses let fear take over I realized just how huge the owl was; it might have been ten feet tall as it hunched over to gaze at us.
Our eyes met, only for a moment. The creature then seemed to pierce my very soul; I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to. I couldn't help but anthropomorphize it, feeling as if it were searching me for something; what, I didn't know. The head tilted slightly, as if the bird were confused over something it couldn't possibly understand...
...and then the horse skidded to a halt and reared itself on its hind legs, whinnying in fright. The knight in front of me held true to his reins, and his footholds in the stirrups braced him from falling. I was not so lucky, and suddenly my world spun before I met the ground chest first.
The wave of pain that blossomed through my chest was fierce but short-lived, and it was a miracle I didn't bash my head on the road and end this sorry affair right there. I felt myself go limp, the breath knocked out of me as my left cheek slapped cobblestone and forced my head the opposite direction of the owl. Around me somewhere far above came Anton's shouting, and my vision spun as the ringing of distant metal and the flapping of massive wings washed over me like a wave in the darkness.
…
I was flipped over then, somewhat gently, by the soft-spoken knight. It took me a moment to remember who he was or what was going on, but even in the shade of his helm I could see relief in his eyes.
"Thank the goddess," he breathed. "Peace; the fight was brief, and over."
"Hagen was right," came Anton's voice. "That damned owl is quicker than it appears. I ought to put up a reward."
"Are you okay?" asked the knight. I opened my mouth to speak, but something warm and slick forced its way up and out. I could tell by his eyes widening that it was blood. "Sir Anton, he needs a potion immediately! He has internal bleeding!"
Anton snapped back, but the words blurred. Everything blurred a bit, suddenly. Mercifully, the pain in my chest and side seemed to fade away; I felt as if a nap would make everything better. I almost didn't register that I was moving, and I blinked and rasped in confusion before realizing that I was being hoisted back up onto the horse. I was in front this time, the knight's arms around me to grasp the reins, and soon the horse resumed its gallop. I didn't need to put in effort to stay on; eased by the rhythm of the ride, my mind slipped off somewhere else.
The next thing I knew something entered my mouth, sloshy and tart. I tried to reject it, but someone forced it down. It burned my throat, and I coughed and spluttered as the fire spread to my stomach. The feeling brought a jolt to my system; something like electricity crackled through my nerves and I was suddenly more aware of my surroundings.
I was cold. My body shivered, heat draining away into the floor beneath me. My hands moved to grip it and found cool stone. My chest and side ached in protest of my breathing, and something bony supported my back in a way that was more than a little uncomfortable. I realized then that someone was propping me up on their leg.
"He's with us." The voice belonged to the knight, his quiet words followed by a heavy sigh. My eyes shot open and found him my caretaker, his helmed visage accompanied by a ceiling of dark stone.
I opened my mouth to speak, and it took a moment to find my voice. "Where...are we?" I croaked. The tang still lingered on my taste buds.
"We're at the castle, in the great entrance hall," he said. I coughed in response, and he pulled out a canteen and brought it to my lips. "Here, drink. The red can be a bit much if you're not used to it." I did so gladly, and the cool water helped sate my thirst. "How do you feel?"
"Terrible." Giving it another moment I added, "But I don't feel like I'm going to die."
"That's natural. Red potions work out the fatal wounds first, so you'll probably not be in too much pain tonight. You'll feel the aftereffects in the morning, I'm sure."
Even as he spoke I felt energy returning to me, so I made the effort to sit up on my own. "Thanks for saving my life."
"I wouldn't thank me yet," he said, gesturing to my left. There, the other knights save Anton were waiting and watching, as if I were a dangerous animal driven into a corner.
It was then that I became more aware of my surroundings: the entrance hall the nine of us occupied was high-ceilinged and reverberant, the intensity of such only dialed back by decorative murals and a scant few rugs. The murals depicted scenes and sigils unfamiliar to me, including some sort of large-scale battle in dramatic reds and golds. Torches were our light source, their flickering and sizzling white noise that irritated me from all directions. The chamber was a crossroads of sorts, four exits in cardinal directions that gave me four options to guess where we came from. The grandest exit was behind me, where I saw two guards keeping watch.
"Regardless, thanks anyway." As we stood up, it struck me then that I didn't have a name for the knight. "What should I call you?"
"I go by Sir Marcus, but the title is new to me," he admitted. "Marcus will do just fine. I recall you saying your name was Percy?"
"Uh, yeah." I'd almost forgotten that I'd lied about my name in the tavern. "So, what happens now?"
Marcus frowned. "That depends entirely on Sir Anton's return." He didn't elaborate further.
Everyone was quiet for a moment. My body ached as my wounds continued to tingle dully. I wondered what was in store for me and whether I was going to survive it.
"The cretin stirs, I see." It was Anton's voice, announcing his presence before I saw him. His golden armor gleamed deeply in the torchlight, his cape a flowing shadow behind him.
Marcus straightened. "Sir. We administered the potion just in time."
"Yes, yes, the wonders of medicine," he said dismissively. Turning to me he added, "As for you, I've gone to great lengths to prepare a nice cell for you in the dungeon." There was a cruel enjoyment in his words that made me scowl. "It's cold, damp, and dark. I'm sure you will call it home in time."
"Is this how you treat guests in your home?" I growled.
"No, it's how I treat prisoners before I wring the information out of them." He stepped forward menacingly. "I derive much joy from ne'er do wells like you. The ones with bite are the most apologetic in the end."
"That's not necessary, Sir Anton." The voice was a newcomer, smooth and deep in quality. I turned towards the doorway with the guards to find the source of it stepping through the entryway. The man was tall, ducking his head to clear the entrance; despite the awkward nature of his movements I saw the guards tense up and stand at attention. His skin was a deep tan as if he'd spent months in the sun, and his dark blond-brown locks were held up out of his face with a headband. He wore a tunic the color of apricots that sought to hide the chain mail creeping out underneath. At his side was a scabbard nearly the width and height of an adolescent teen, and I found myself wondering if he could even wield it.
Anton let out a growl as the man reached us with large strides. His chain mail clinked with each step, and Marcus backed away, relinquishing his place. After taking a moment to compose himself Anton said formally, "Kingsley. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Always business with you, Sir." His speech was stoic, though I could have sworn there was a strangeness in the way he said the word "sir." "'S been a change of plans; the boy's to be taken to the throne room. Her Majesty wants to see him with her own eyes."
If Anton's armor could bristle it would have in that moment. "Excuse me? What manner of jape is this? Prisoners belong in the dungeon, not before royalty!"
"Her Majesty's will is absolute," he replied, dark eyes falling on me. I saw now in the torchlight a scar that streaked his cheek, the skin long whitened and healed over. His face betrayed nothing as his gaze lingered, and I quickly became uncomfortable as Anton's body jerked in anger.
"I find this unacceptable, Kingsley! This was my task to fulfill, and it's an insult to take it from me." He put his hand to the sword at his side but did not draw it. "I'll remember that you talked her into this folly, mark my words." With an undignified "humph!" he spun around and strode off.
Kingsley watched him go, then shrugged his shoulders. "Never said he couldn't come along."
"I'm still not sure what crawled up his butt," I said back. "Is he always like this?"
"Only when he feels slighted...which's often." He turned to the remaining knights who straightened up in kind. "Since Sir Anton's politely declined, any of you wanna tag along and watch the prisoner?"
Marcus stepped forward. "If you'll have me, Sir Kingsley."
"I'm not a knight, Sir Marcus, but you'll do. Come." With the matter settled, we turned towards the grand entryway and passed the guards, Kingsley ducking to pass through again.
We found ourselves stepping outdoors and were greeted by a large courtyard bathed in moonlight. Beyond the cover of the cloistered perimeter we stood under, the yard was nearly the size of the market square, perhaps the largest area I'd ever seen devoted simply to recreational use. Sheltering a good corner of the space to our right was an old oak tree, gnarled with burls and twisting branches. Large, long flower beds sat raised in stone about the place, sporting blooming amaranth and spindly safflower. In the oak's shadow the amaranth were tendrils of blood, reaching out for passersby. In the middle was a large fountain pool that revered a statue at its center, one of a woman in a simple but elegant dress with her hands clasped in prayer. The light trickling of water and quiet groans of branches reached us, promising sanctuary and relief.
Kingsley stepped out into the courtyard and we followed suit. Whatever that red potion had been, it was effective; I hadn't even noticed the ease of walking until now, and despite the dull ache of my side I felt energized in a way I hadn't been since Mycenia burned. I looked past Kingsley to our destination: on the other end of the open space sat the castle keep, overlooking us with three spires of varying heights.
"What kind of person owns a place this massive?" I asked myself, a touch dizzy.
"You're about to find out," said Kingsley as we reached the other end of the cloister.
We passed through another threshold and a crossroad of hallways to find a final set of doors before us, this time adorned with golden triangles striking against the royal blue wood. Two more guards waited here, betraying nothing of their thoughts as we approached.
Kingsley stopped us at the guards, turning around to face me. "Before we enter the throne room, let's get one thing straight. I trust you get that any violent acts'll be met with retaliation."
"Don't worry, I'm not about to try to fight anyone, let alone you." I doubted that he carried that massive sword around just for show.
For the first time, I got something out of him: he chuckled lightly. "Were it only me you'd have to fight. Just wanted to clear that up." He turned back towards the doors. "Come. The princess awaits."
Something about that word sent a strange feeling surging through me, though for the life of me I couldn't say why. Princess. I put that thought in the back of my mind for later as Kingsley nodded to the guards. The double doors were pulled open, and we stepped inside.
The throne room was long and spacious, reflective tiles gleaming in the moonlight save for the long carpet marching us to the throne. Far above, at the end of the hall, a great mural was displayed above the throne in dramatic colors. Against a backdrop of violet, fuschia, and the black of the void shone those three golden triangles, so brightly depicted they looked as if they burned off of the mural and into the physical world. The throne itself was a dull gold color, ornate with jewels but clearly meant to be humbled by the striking mural overhead. It awaited us atop three steps that ensured its occupant could look down at a potential audience.
It was there that she sat. The princess was at ease, but not lazily, atop the throne, white gloved hands together at her lap. She wore a magenta dress decorated with various gold ornaments and jewelry. On the skirt was a banner featuring various sigils, including a teary eye and a bird with outstretched wings. The golden triangles trumped them all, their brightness ruling above the dark blues and reds of the rest. Her eyes were cobalt like the sea, hemmed by fair skin, a jeweled circlet, and golden tresses. Those eyes studied me as we traversed the hall.
Kingsley halted us ten steps away from the throne, and he and Marcus took to a knee in deference. "Your Highness. I've brought him."
I glanced back and forth between her searching eyes and their lowered heads. "Should I, uh...should I be kneeling too?"
"An interesting question." Her voice was soft, smooth and solemn. "Does the name Zelda, Princess of Hyrule mean anything to you, who strides from the forest?"
"Not particularly." I didn't like the question; the wording made me wonder if disrespecting her was akin to offending Elder Jaq. Probably worse, given her home and attendants. "I assume you're pretty important, though."
She smiled softly. "I suppose you could put it that way, though I've a fondness for those who don't make a fuss about it." She brought herself to a stand and brushed aside a wayward lock of hair. "I do not ask you to bend the knee to me. Instead, I would ask your name."
I glanced back at Marcus and figured I should probably keep my story straight. "I'm Percy."
Her eyes bore into me. "A curious name. I can't help but feel that another fits you. Tell me, Kingsley...do you not share that sentiment?"
"There's some truth to it, Your Highness."
I wasn't keen on following that train of thought. "My name is Percy," I repeated, more insistently this time.
Her face betrayed nothing as she nodded. "Then Percy I shall call you. May I approach?"
Marcus didn't look all that enthused at the idea. Kingsley remained stoic as I shrugged. "I'm not going to bite, if that's what you're worried about."
I got a slight smile out of her. "I shall keep that in mind."
She took to the steps gracefully, as smooth as the flow of her dress. The clacking of her footsteps rang in the great hall, and soon she was before me. I caught the aroma of jasmine and iris that followed her down the steps.
"You're shorter down here," I noted.
"Then the throne is doing its job." It was alarming how striking she was, even this close. "Appearances are everything to certain people. They tend to be the ones necessary to impress." She smiled gently. "Forgive me; I may be a bit handsy."
"Um, okay…"
What followed was perhaps the strangest thing to happen in a day full of terrible and strange things. The princess set herself to work circling me slowly, taking in some sort of information from it. Her eyebrows furrowed in thought as she looked over my clothes. At points she would bring her hands to my arms, inspecting the fabric of my sleeves or to move them to get a better look at my tunic. At another she took my hands into hers to study them. She even brushed aside some of my bangs, searching for who-knows-what beneath them. I winced when her gentle prodding sent a dull throb in my left side during the tunic inspection. All of this she did carefully, as if handling a fragile toy that might break at the slightest application of force.
To my credit, I did my best to keep my composure. I'd never been physically handled this way before; compared to the rougher play of Uunco or Sarah this felt downright alien.
Finally, she focused on my face. She scrutinized this the most intensely: a gloved hand went to my cheek, making me flinch despite the light touch. The princess used both hands to gently turn my head, viewing it from different angles. When she saw what needed to be seen, her eyes set on mine, and we stared at one another for a time. Her deep blue irises were impenetrable, and I balked at the intensity in them. Then, eye contact broke as she lowered her eyes to my neck. I knew suddenly that she was eyeing the twine which held the pendant under my shirt. Her hands slid down to my neck, searching for the necklace—
I coughed then, loudly and awkwardly, to signal my discomfort. It worked; a sense of indecency overtook her and she retracted her hands from me. Princess Zelda composed herself and said, "That should do for the time being. You have my apologies for being thorough."
"I'd rather have you be straight with me," I replied irritably. "Am I your guest, your prisoner, or your property?"
"That is what I'm trying to ascertain." She sought to put some distance between us, a hint of testiness slipping through her otherwise smooth demeanor. "Now, to my questions. Were you perchance in combat with monsters recently?"
"Yes," I said, a bit bothered by how unprompted the question was. "What told you that?"
"You have a sheath for a knife, yet no knife. There are no cuts on you that I can visibly see. Your tunic's left side has the fabric lightly shredded, which couldn't be from a blade due to the wide area affected. I assumed you had crawled through some particularly dense underbrush until you flinched at my touch, and the right side of the tunic was fine."
"I was thrown into a tree."
She nodded. "The only outlier is that you smell of soot and ash, but have no burns. Unless those blisters on your hands..."
She took a moment to mull it over. My anxiety was rising as she deduced more and more about my situation, so I decided to interrupt that line of thought. "What was the next question?"
"Yes, let's move forward." She couldn't keep still; slow, careful steps accompanied her pondering. "How are you with combat in general?"
I looked back to Kingsley, whose stony face watched me, and decided to answer carefully. "Today was my first real fight. I think surviving was the best I could do."
"And what of magic?"
"What do you mean by 'magic?'"
"Spells or power that can channel the elements or alter reality. Surely you've seen something of the sort, perhaps in your favor?"
That forced a dark chuckle out of me. "I've only seen the power of the Wind Fish, and it's certainly not in my favor."
Her footsteps slowed to a halt. "Wind Fish?"
Damn it. That was probably a mistake to admit to her.
"That's an interesting name," said Kingsley from behind me. "What exactly's this Wind Fish you speak of?"
Well, the damage was done: any more secrecy at this point would probably doom me to the dungeon. "Our patron god. It protects the forest and those who live in it."
Princess Zelda nodded again, as if something clicked in her head. "I shall inquire more on that later. Finally, one last question: how familiar are you with the culture of the Zora people?"
"Zora?"
"Yes, the fish folk. They live further east up Zora's River, guarding its source above their domain."
I furrowed my brows at the mention of fish people. I'd heard stories from the other villagers about river folk with tails for hair, but so far as I was aware they were only that. Uunco claimed that his parents had seen one once, but I'd put little faith in them given their airheaded nature. Now my skepticism seemed to make me the fool. "Even if they were real, why bring them up?"
She watched me carefully. "Amongst the Zora, it is customary to present a gift to one's beloved in promise of marriage. Often, it is the women who offer such gifts, and they tend to bestow upon their men jewelry that can be worn publicly if they so choose." I did my best to keep my composure. "That trinket you hide beneath your tunic…"
"It's not a token of marriage," I told her. I could see everyone in the room tensing up and chose to avoid association with these Zora. "It's...a memento of my mother."
She said nothing, face suddenly unreadable as her cobalt eyes searched me. A sudden nervousness gripped me; what if my answer just now was the difference between life and death? I had no choice but to commit. I met her gaze as best I could, praying that she couldn't read minds as well as she could clothes.
"You are a man of many mysteries, Percy," she finally said. She took to the steps and returned to the throne. "I've decided to make you a temporary guest, for the time being. May we work together to solve some of them."
I let the tension leave me, muscles relaxing at the verdict. "I'm grateful, uh, Your Highness. But I'd also like to request your help with the situation in Lyna Forest, if you'll listen."
"Lyna Forest?" Her ears perked up. "So it has a name."
"I tried calling out to the men on your wall for aid, but they ignored me until that golden knight came to fetch me."
"Ah, Sir Anton. He can be a bit much, I'm afraid. Truth be told, Percy, your entrance to this land is but one of the oddities to beset us in recent times. Thus far, the soldiers atop the wall have spotted only a raiding party of moblins and bokoblins entering the woods...and only you to exit. I was hoping for more information on where exactly you came from and how it came to be."
I tilted my head in confusion. "Why do you care so much about what's going on in there?" Her lips twitched, but whether it was a hint of a smile or a frown, I couldn't tell.
"Because, Percy, until three days ago, there were but a series of plateaus and rock formations there the likes of which were unapproachable outside of the Gerudo Valley. Your Lyna Forest, on every map of Hyrule, does not exist."