author's note: This is the sequel to Sylvanus, Part I: Waker of the Winds. You probably don't need to read that to understand what's going on, but I'm not really the best judge of these things.
Really, there's more I should say in this intro.. Let's see: I'm posting this even though I've only the prologue written of part three, as I can't really work on that until I've found some sort of transcription for the cutscenes for Ocarina of Time. There are some scenes that are supposed to sound more similar in part three.
I don't know when that will happen—when I'll be able to write it. Maybe I'll find the transcriptions I've made. Maybe I'll make new ones. We'll see. I'm not going to put off posting this part forever just because I don't know.
Sylvanus, Part II: The Boy without a Faerie
Prologue: The Dream
He stood before a great castle made of stone that seemed to glow even in the dark of night. Right now, it was not only night, but dark with thunderclouds. Thunderclaps burst all around, but their threatened rain remained in the clouds overhead. These clouds blocked out even the moon, making time-telling next to impossible.
He realised that he was all alone, and in a strange place. He didn't have time to consider his situation more, before a drawbridge right in front of him began to pay out with the mechanical rattling of chains. The sound of hoofbeats rang in his ears.
Shortly after the clopping of hooves began, he saw its source—a great white mare, mane slicked back with rain, carrying a white-haired woman in strange armour. Behind her, a little girl about Aryll's age clung to the woman's sides.
As they galloped past, the girl turned to face him, eyes wide with terror. They were fleeing something, and whatever it was was no ordinary foe. He wished that they would stop, just briefly, or call to him what pursued them. Did it follow them, in particular, or was there some sort of monster wreaking havoc in the castle ahead?
The memory of her wide eyes, heavy and dark with some strange emotion that no kid that young should ever have, would linger with him. For now, he watched as the horse galloped out of sight, and a chill of foreboding overcame him.
He whirled around, and his eyes were drawn first to the tall black stallion. Just why was it that tall, anyway? But, as he wondered this, his gaze traveled up the horse's neck, to its fiery red eyes, and plaited red mane, and then down the reins to the man in black armour sitting astride it.
Ganon. Link knew him at once, and reached for the Master Sword. It wasn't there. Nor were the mirror shield, or even his messenger bag. He was defenceless—even the silver gauntlets had gone. His eyes widened, as he realised the predicament that he was now in.
Ganon looked strangely young in his black armour, with no sideburns, skin smooth, unlined, although, somehow, even the set of his face seemed…younger. He looked to be in his early twenties, or even his late teens, unlike the man who had crushed Link in the shipwreck atop the Forsaken Fortress.
Ganon said something, but the words were oddly muffled. Link had the sense that, maybe, he himself said something in reply, but something (fear?) clouded his awareness.
The man (Ganon) raised his left hand, and energy began to gather there. A ball of violet light traversed the colours of the rainbow, before settling on yellow. Link recognised that ball of light, and swallowed, hard. He knew what was coming—he had nowhere to run, and no cover was to be seen. He wouldn't even make it to the moat beneath the drawbridge in time. It looked as though he'd finally discover how excruciating it was to be hit by one of those balls of light.
The answer, of course, was that the pain was as nothing he'd ever experienced before—and he had the strange sense that Ganon had toned it down a bit, perhaps with barely enough of a conscience left that he didn't want to hurt a defenceless kid, or perhaps conserving his energy for other tasks. It still was a pain in a class all its own.
He'd thought it had hurt, being electrocuted by Kalle Demos, or impaled on the spikes of Jalhalla's lair, but this…this….
Huh. When had he landed on his back in the grass? Why was he still convulsing? The attack crackled with electricity, and his body felt as if someone had used it as a pincushion, and then sent a jolt of electricity through said pins. And then, lit them on fire. And yet…despite that…the pain was also somehow distant, as if something were keeping it away. Perhaps it was so bad that his mind couldn't process it.
He tried to lift himself to his feet, bracing himself on his elbow, but his elbow gave under him. The man astride the black horse laughed, and Link knew at once that he had been right. This was Ganon. No one else had that deep, menacing laugh. Ganon turned to him with a cruel smile, and then—
"Link, wake up! Please! Come on!" cried a girl's voice. Aryll.
Link shot straight up out of bed, without even opening his eyes.
Wait a second. Bed? Aryll? Had everything—Zelda, Ganon, the King of Red Lions—had it all been a dream? Was he safe back home, on Outset, with Grandma, and Aryll? But, if Zelda weren't real….
He took several deep breaths to calm himself down, and then opened his eyes.
No, he wasn't back home, on Outset. He was somewhere unfamiliar, again. Someone else's house, by the looks of it. The sheets under his hands were made of some sort of rough-spun, scratchy material, but the lumpy mattress was strangely comfortable. Moonlight streamed in through the window right above the bed, insufficient for making out details, but enough to show him that this circular room was not one he'd ever been in before.
And, sure, the girl standing to his left was definitely not Aryll, but her hair looked green. It was shoulder-length, and slightly wavy, and held back by a green headband. She wore a green turtleneck, and some sort of undershirt, and a belt. The skirt of her outfit came to her knees, and her high boots covered most of the rest of her legs. She was about Aryll's age, but there was no mistaking them for one another, even in this dim light.
Link's fists clenched, and he raised his head to glare at her, pulling his legs out from under the covers, and swinging them over the sides of the bed. Despite how low to the ground the bed seemed to be, judging by the fact that it only seemed to come to the girl's hips, his legs didn't reach the ground.
He looked at his legs, and bit his cheek to keep from screaming.
What. Oh, come on! Hadn't life messed with him enough, already? Had he really just aged back to his preteens?
No, he was even younger than that. Ten, maybe. Younger than Aryll.
He took several deep, shaky breaths, any traces of anger gone, as the girl came, unnoticed, over to the bed. He didn't notice her until she laid her hand on his left shoulder, with a small smile that was doubtless meant to be reassuring.
"You were having a bad dream, again, Link. You almost woke the entire village. I knew if I didn't come to check on you, Mido would be even grumpier than usual about you. I had to do something."
He raised his eyes, feeling listless, adrift on some metaphorical uncharted seas. He summoned the energy to study her expression. Her eyes were wide and earnest, staring at him with what seemed genuine concern. Such concern for a complete stranger? But, no, she had called him by name. His suspicion flared.
"No. I don't see," he said, and took a second to start at how strange and high-pitched his voice sounded. But, of course, he'd been deaged. That was to be expected for a ten-year-old. "Who are you? Where am I? Who is 'Mido'? How do you know my name? How—?"
It was as if the flood of questions, once started, could not be stemmed. Except….
He would have continued, except that he saw her brows furrow, and then her eyes closed, an expression he easily recognised upon them. A drawn, injured look. Pained. He'd hurt her, somehow. His throat constricted, effectively cutting off the flood of questions he had thought unquenchable.
"Link," she said, softly. "This isn't funny. Come on! You must at least recognise your own home."
He didn't know how to respond. He shook his head sharply, twice. "This isn't my home. I live on Outset, with my sister, Aryll, and my grandmother."
He would have continued, but he made the mistake of glancing at her, again. Her arms were crossed protectively over her chest, and she seemed to draw into herself.
"Link, please," she whispered. "I know your dreams are very realistic, but confusing dreams and reality is a bad sign. Come on, Link. Snap out of it! You're safe now. You're home, in your house, and I'm right here. I'm with you. Whatever monsters harmed you can't touch you now. You're safe."
And, her voice was soothing. He felt himself start to relax, and he crossed his own arms, rejecting the solace she offered, because where was he, and was he safe, or was this a trap?
"Link, you must remember me, surely. I've been your best friend since forever," she said. "All your life, we've been friends. I've always watched over you, and watched out for you, and done my best to make life easier for you, especially when Mido has been…difficult. I know he's often mean to you on account of your lack of a faerie."
As if on cue, a winged light appeared, glowing green, as if from nowhere. It settled on the girl's shoulders, and he had the sense that if it had eyes, they were trained on him, and were narrowed in a fierce glare to match his own.
He sighed, and uncrossed his arms. Faeries only trusted good people, right? He looked up at her, and gave her a tentative smile.
"Do you want to talk about your dream?" she asked. And he wanted to, truly, he did, but what was dream, and what reality? He didn't feel that he could separate them now. He could swear that he'd seen the girl, somewhere, before, and not just in the fact that she strongly reminded him of Aryll.
"It was no dream," he murmured. "It was real—as real as I, and truly terrifying, the last few months…. No, that's not how to begin. Look, whoever you are, I'm not the Link who's been your friend from earliest childhood. My name is Link Sylvanus, and I come from the island of Outset, far to the south, on the Great Sea…."
She gave him an encouraging smile, and he poured out the tale to her, wondering even as he did why he did. She wouldn't believe him. She thought it all a dream. But, her presence was a balm to his wounded heart, and even though the comfort was not meant for him, he took it anyway, chastising himself for his selfish greed as he did.
"That does sound very…convincing," she said, when he came to the battle against Puppet Ganon. His voice was hoarse; he was unaccustomed to speaking this much. "But, it's behind you now. You need to get to sleep. Look, it's almost light!"
His fists clenched again, despite his awareness that she was right—it was almost dawn. How could she doubt his tale? But, there was no ill intent to her words. The idea he presented was merely too far-fetched—beyond a child's ability to comprehend. He would just have to pretend that he thought that the past was a dream, and look for some way out of this one.
"Thank you. I feel a lot better now," he said, smiling at her. The part that had been a dream in truth—his confrontation with Ganon before the castle—he kept to himself. If she didn't believe him about the one thing, she wouldn't believe the other, and he knew that it was only a dream. It stung, strangely enough, for this stranger to disbelieve him. He didn't want to have her reject his dream as unimportant again.
"I'll play my melody for you," she offered, with a gentle smile. He was starting to recognise that she seemed to have a mothering nature, despite her youth. She was such a complete big sister figure, as he had been a protective big brother towards Aryll.
Aryll. He swallowed, throat tight, and she noticed. "This song has a long history to it, doesn't it? I think I played it for you even when you were just a baby. You loved it even then."
Before he could, unthinking, ask her what that meant (she looked as if she were about ten years old, the same age that he appeared to be), she pulled out a faerie ocarina, identical to the one he had found in the Forbidden Woods, and his mind began to churn through ideas and possibilities. Hadn't the Deku Tree said that the koroks had once "taken on human forms" known as the kokiri? They had been timeless, ageless, and with the appearance of children.
And, the old Wind Sage had been named Mido.
The girl raised the ocarina to her lips, and softly played a lively tune—one meant to be played much louder, with all the strength a girl's breath could muster. It rang even still in the house, drifting out the window. It was soothing and gentle, but lively and energetic, a strange combination. He found his head nodding along to the rhythm, and he was smiling. When was the last time he had smiled so freely? He closed his eyes as the song drew to its end.
"Thank you, Saria," he said, his eyes closed, feeling at peace for the first time since Aryll's kidnap.
She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm here for you, at any time, Link. You don't have to explain everything to me. But, I know that something is still bothering you. If you ever want to talk about it, know that I'll listen."
She gave him a reassuring smile, and walked towards the door he hadn't before noticed, turning as she reached for the knob, sending him one more reassuring smile. He returned it, and her smile widened. She opened the door, and walked out, and Link lay back down, thinking that she was right, and he had better sleep while he could. There would be time to consider his new circumstances, if they still remained as they were, in the morning, when there was more light.
The next morning, he woke late. He knew that he had awoken late by the way the light streamed in through the window in blinding bright rays. He swung his still-too-short legs over the side of the bed, and stood.
In the light of day, he could see the room clearly. There was a stumpy table in the centre, and, speaking of stumps, the entire room seemed to be a hollowed-out tree. The walls, floor, and ceiling looked to be one homogenous mass, as if grown that way.
The bed, and other furnishings, including several pots, stood out, owing to their less-wooden composition. As did the desk curving around the far side of the room. There was a mirror on a stand, and he considered whether the original owner of this house was somehow vain or overly-concerned about his appearance. Why did he have a mirror? What did he need a mirror for?
Well, he was grateful for it, now. He wanted to at least know his own appearance. If his name was the same, did he look the same, too?
Well, he decided, as he analysed his new appearance, yes and no. He looked very similar to how he had when he had been ten years old in truth. He was sure this stranger and his ten-year-old self could have passed for identical twins, in fact. But, his hair made him feel sure that he hadn't merely had seven years siphoned off his age, and then been thrown into a strange new reality.
Link's grandmother kept his hair cut fairly short, and it was naturally shaggy and straw-blond. Now, however, it was much neater, if mostly hidden under his hat, and a reddish strawberry-blond that was almost orange. He could only see his bangs—how they curved up in two arches, somehow just short enough not to fall into his eyes, except where they fell loosely past his ears (which still were longer and sharply pointed, unlike most of the population of Windfall).
When he removed the (brimless) green stocking cap, he found that his hair came to past his shoulders, when free of his hat. He hastened to stuff his hair back into the hat, and re-covered his head, running his finger around the inside of the hat, concentrating fixedly on the hat remaining on his head, easing just a pinch of magic into it. Either he still had his magic, or the hat was inherently magical; he didn't remove it again, and it didn't come off.
Meanwhile, Link examined the rest of his appearance. There were soft leather boots he hadn't realised that he had worn to bed. (Although always wearing boots perhaps made sense, when you lived in a giant treehouse. The splinters alone must be horrendous.) He also had a brown belt, cinched tight, and a short-sleeved green shirt, with short, loose pants that came to his knees. That would take some getting used to. He hadn't worn just pants in a while, he realised, and he'd never worn clothes similar to these, before. And, why so much green?
He found himself thinking about the clothes of the Legendary Hero, and headed the thoughts off before they could enter dangerous territory. He sighed, huffed, and jumped, before remembering that his voice had risen several octaves. He was ten years old. He had to remember that. He was ten years old, again. Most people only had to grow up once, but he was just lucky that way.
He sighed, frowned, and sat back onto the bed, staring aimlessly across the room. His eyes caught on a greataxe (seriously), a saw (what?), and a rake (sure). If he were a kokiri, now, perhaps it made sense that he would be expected to work with "grown-up" tools, despite having a childlike appearance. It still seemed rather incongruous to him.
He shrugged, and went to the door, in time to once more start, heart racing, when it began to open on him.
"Waa! Who is it? Can't you knock, first?"
"Oh, Link, I'm so sorry," said a familiar voice. The door was pushed open, slowly, and the girl from the night before peeked her head around it. Her hair, as he noticed as if this were a priority, was indeed green—the green of grass, and young leaves. He'd never seen anyone with green hair before, and he had to remind himself not to stare at it.
"No, no, it's fine," he said, pulling open the door. They were supposed to be old friends, right? "I suppose I'm still a bit…distracted."
She gave him a tiny smile that stopped just short of pity, but entered the house. Link caught a glimpse of more green beyond the door before she shut it behind her. When she lifted her head, and turned to look at him, he saw that her eyes were a bright, sapphire blue. She was wearing the same outfit as before, but now he could see it better. He was almost amused at how closely it resembled the outfit he'd received on his birthday—the Hero's clothes.
She had an undershirt of dark green, and a turtleneck of bright green, and the skirt (or tunic) that she wore came to her knees. Her boots were an unfortunate forest green, but other than that, and the lack of trousers, it did look—but that wasn't important.
"Is your dream still troubling you?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern. "Oh, Link, I'm so sorry, but you were late to Mido's meeting, and after last night—well, he picked the nastiest chore he could think of for you. That bully! I don't know why the Great Deku Tree appointed him to lead us!"
Link tried not to show his interest at this news. The Great Deku Tree? Then, perhaps, these were the kokiri. And, the Great Deku Tree…if anyone would know how to solve his predicament, it would be the wise old tree—or one of the other spirits, if he could find them. But, Valoo would be somewhere high on a mountain, and Jabun in some body of water, and the only place he had confirmed existed, thus far, was the Kokiri Forest.
"It's fine—" what had he called her, before? "—Saria. I guess I just…forgot…about the meeting. That—that dream…."
Link was not used to lying. He was a very direct, straightforward person by nature, and was more liable to cut to the matter with improper directness than to scuttle about the edges. It left a sour taste in his mouth. First, he woke to find that he was quite literally not himself, and now he wasn't even acting like himself.
"No. I'm sorry. I mean that I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't know who Mido is, or what the meeting is, or what chores you're talking about. You might not believe me, but I just got here last night. I don't know anything about Kokiri Forest. You'll just have to start from the beginning, and lay it all out for me."
He crossed his arms, and gave her his most direct look. Well, he'd never have been able to keep up the ruse, anyway.
It still felt as if he'd murdered someone's pet dog when her eyes trembled, and tears appeared in the corners, as she gripped the knob on the door with white-knuckled fingers, as if she were leaning on it for support.
"You still—you still don't remember?" she asked. He reminded himself that honesty was the best policy particularly in cases such as these, where she was sure to find out anyway, and in the meantime, his ignorance of this society was sure to ruin this other-Link's life. Rather than debate the veracity of his dream with her—he'd done enough damage with his mere confession—he gave a terse nod.
She sighed, slumped, and fixed him with those blue eyes that now looked far, far too old.
"I volunteered to help you with the chores. Mido has you painting the deku shields," she wrinkled her nose, and the gesture was childish, and fitting, except that it contrasted with those old, old eyes. He intuited some of the reason for why this task was considered unpleasant.
"Then we'd better start," he said. "And you can explain to me what to do, if you know. If…if you want to, after I—"
He hesitated, unsure of himself, not wanting to finish the sentence. He hung his head, and wouldn't look at her, and they stood there for a moment, each unwilling to look at the other.
"I will help you as I can," she agreed, nodding. "But, I hope you regain your memory soon. I shall—I will speak with the Great Deku Tree, and see what he thinks."
He had a moment when he almost reminded her about his "dream", and that it was truth, but he pushed it down. What good would it do? All it could do was add salt to the wound. Somehow, he mustered a smile for her.
"I hope I…remember…soon, too. If it's truly only a matter of missing memories."
He just couldn't stop himself from adding that last bit, could he? He bit his tongue to keep himself from saying any more stupid things—Saria was the only person he knew here, thus far, and he needed her help. Besides, she truly seemed to care about this other Link—although that made the entire affair a hundred times worse.
He continued looking down, nodded, and reached for the knob of the door, still clenched tight in Saria's fingers. "I'm so, so sorry, Saria. But, thank you."
He looked up at her, and she met his gaze, and his stomach clenched at that hurt expression, and he wished fiercely that it were only a matter of missing memories, and that he could just regain them, and reassure her. Perhaps even live out his life here, in peace.
He thought of Grandma, and of Aryll, and of Zelda, and all the others he had met, and left behind. Ganon rampaged over the Great Sea in his mind's eye, the Triforce siphoned from Zelda giving him the power to batter down the last vestiges of resistance.
But, the goddesses had promised that no harm would come to Zelda, and without the Triforce she possessed (and his own missing piece), Ganon was no closer to world conquest than he had been before Link had entered the Tower. Indeed, as Link was now beyond his reach, so too was the Triforce of Courage. It was a bitter thought, that the world might be safer without his help.
Saria let fall her hand, and he reached for the knob of the door, and pulled it open, letting in a whole new flood of sunshine into his house.
He peered out at the Kokiri Forest, across the balcony just past his door, with the ladder in the middle leading to the forest floor. There was a house backed up against a ledge, leading up, and another ledge, and above that, a hole in a cliff led into darkness. Below the cliff, a waterfall flooded a depression in the grass, creating a lake, wherein stepping-stones provided paths across. A small patch of higher ground held a building with a red roof.
To the left of his house was a high cliff, with a railing all around it, and another house, along with a maze of fences. A slope led down a natural wall, with a tunnel leading who-knew-where guarded by a boy with the same strawberry-blond hair as Link now had, blocking it with his body, at its base.
To his right was a shorter house than his, with grass and trees growing around it, and a ramp winding up around it, leading to a bridge to a tall rocky column, which led to another bridge, which connected to another such square column.
He had no idea where to go next. He turned to Saria, begging her silently to guide him, if only for the sake of the other Link. Somehow, she drew her tight expression into something reassuring.
"This way, Link," she said, climbing over the side of the platform at the entrance to…his house, and down a ladder. He followed her once she had reached the forest floor. "Tago also volunteered to help you, although I think it might be just because he didn't want to have to try to clean up the rock pile in front of Mido's house, again…."
Her tone was perforce light and cheery, and Link frowned. Well, he couldn't ask for her to be morose, or constantly remind her of the bad news. If she were coping with the situation better than he, then that was good. He didn't ask who Tago was. He would learn, soon enough.
Now that they were in the open air, a green ball of light flew out of…somewhere,and landed on Saria's shoulder, making angry noises at him. Saria grimaced.
"Sorry about Gatrice," she said. "She's upset with you for making me sad. I've tried to explain to her that it's not your fault, but…well, faeries can be stubborn."
He had the distinct impression, perhaps assisted by a tiny noise, that this… "Gatrice" was blowing her tongue at him. How very mature.
"I'm sorry," he said again, looking at his feet. Saria rested a hand on his shoulder, and gave it a squeeze. "We'll make it work. Never fear."
Was she telling him to take courage? He stood up straighter, fixed a smile on his face, and followed Saria to the building with the red roof. They passed beneath the red awning, walked past the boy jumping in order to see over the counter, and his faerie, who, indifferent, floated around the shelves, and went around the right side to the back room.
Something smelt horrible here, and Link realised just what had caused Saria's wrinkled nose, before. He couldn't help wrinkling his nose, too. The third kokiri had had the best idea. The violet ball of light resting on his face was pinching his nose shut, helping to block out the rank odour that assaulted them in the back room. Somewhere beneath the attention he devoted to the problem at hand, his ever-observant puzzle-solving part of his mind noticed that this boy also wore a cap, and a green outfit of sleeveless shirt and shorts, with the same boots.
"Ugh, what is in this paint?" he whined. "Hey, Link," he said, with an amicable smile. "And Saria, of course. Bet Mido's mad he hasn't been able to separate you, yet!" He winked, and gave Link a broad grin. This must be Tago.
"…Hello, Tago," Link said, shifting on his feet. "Just what do we need to do?"
"Oh, right, you weren't at the meeting," said Tago, with a contemplative hum. "He wants us to paint those red spirals onto the Deku Shields. Personally, I think you should take the opportunity to take one. I mean, it's not as if Mido rewards us for a job well done, and I'm sure he's given you this chore enough that you're an expert."
"Perhaps less than you'd expect," Link said, reluctant to admit his situation to another complete stranger. Saria pulled a jar of disgusting-smelling liquid towards herself, and ladled it out into another, smaller jar near the door. She added to this something that smelt cloying, and then a small amount of brackish liquid that might be some sort of treated water. She began to stir them together, as Link watched.
"Three scoops of red dye, half a ladle of Deku sap…Forest Water…what am I forgetting?"
"A paintbrush?" asked Tago. She shook her head, and pulled a bottle of what was probably something like vinegar, to judge by its smell, down, pouring in a dollop of the stuff with careful precision, and mixing it again.
"Now, we just have to wait for them to bring in the wooden shields," she said, sitting down on a closed barrel with crossed arms. "You'd better study the design on the shields, if you want to get it close enough to pass Mido's inspection."
Her smile was too broad, and it didn't reach her eyes, but Tago didn't seem to notice, nodding, and walking back around to the storefront to beg a finished product for examination from the shopkeep. Link went with him.
They worked at painting the Deku Shields for several hours, until dinnertime. Saria explained in a whisper that chores weren't all of what being a kokiri meant, but they went through Mido's assigned tasks at least once a week. Usually, Mido had Link out foraging for edible fruits, nuts, berries, and roots. Sometimes, when Mido was feeling particularly charitable, Link was sent for firewood (hence the axe), construction of furniture (hence the saw), or even cooking.
The other kokiri were sometimes given bows, and sent to hunt for food in the forest. But Link did not have a faerie, and Mido refused to even hear of the idea of Link going hunting without a faerie partner. Saria confessed in a whisper that she sometimes lent him a bow, and helped teach him how to shoot, regardless of Mido's orders. She told him about the great importance of faeries, who were the guardians, protectors, parents, and guides of the kokiri.
If he were a proper kokiri, a faerie would have taught Link everything he had to know, but Saria had to teach him instead, as he had no faerie partner. Although Link couldn't help this fact, it didn't take him long to discover that Mido assuredly held it against him.
The man (for something about the man discouraged thinking of him as a child, especially when Link remembered the old-fashioned sage, so different from the bully he now saw daily, despite an uncanny physical resemblance) never missed a chance to mock Link for his lack of a faerie, calling him "Mr. No Faerie" on a regular basis.
At least one time out of every three, he was addressed by the hated nickname instead of his name. Absolutely no one called him Sylvanus, including Mido, who despised him. Apparently, this Link had no other name than just…Link.
Oddly refreshing, that.
Still, Link was forever the outcast outlier of Kokiri Forest, for he alone had no faerie partner. Most of the other kokiris didn't care about this—when Mido chose games for them to play in the evenings, there were more than just Saria and Tago who threatened to sit out games for faerie-bound kokiri only.
The twin girls who lived in the Twins' House next Saria's House were always adamant about his inclusion, as were most of the boys. The girl, Fado, on the other hand, openly encouraged Mido's bullying, to the point that Link almost wondered if she weren't the cause of it. She seemed to have some sort of childish crush on the man, for some reason.
And Mido, he gradually realised, had a crush on Saria. Which might be the real reason that the fool disliked Link so. Jealousy had done stranger things, Link supposed, but it didn't change his aggravation.
Link settled into the routines of Kokiri Forest, learning how to accomplish various chores under Saria's watchful, if encouraging, eyes, and fending off Mido's hostility, sometimes learning more about the history of Kokiri Forest, and of the Great Deku Tree, from the knowledgeable three brothers who lived in the house by the maze of fences. As with most of the boys bossed around by Mido, they were firmly in support of Link.
"It's almost a bit of a skirmish, isn't it?" asked Breklur, as they sat discussing Mido's behaviour, and the division of Kokiri Forest. His faerie had fallen asleep hours ago—it was quite late—but he and Link were still discussing Mido's behaviour, with the occasional interruption by Seru, his brother, or his brother's faerie, whose noises Link couldn't understand because he lacked a faerie partner of his own. "Everyone is picking sides, or already has. Mido's brought it about because he's jealous of you, but I don't think Fado sees that. It's an ugly thing, jealousy."
"Was he always this way—this bossy, I mean?" Link asked, wondering just what sort of life the previous Link had lived. And had he made things better or worse for that Link, if he ever return?
"Well—his appointment as our mayor has made him a bit conceited, but he always had the potential for nastiness. We three brothers are the eldest of the kokiri, and then Mido and Saria.
"You'd think that, after a couple of centuries, Mido would have become more responsible, as Saria did, and there are hints as to his capacity for responsibility, but for now, he seems a tad too…power-hungry…for that. Fado doesn't care. I think it's his power that she's drawn to. And since Mido doesn't like you, she's determined to like you even less. But, I still remember that one time you managed to made her laugh, despite herself. You could heal this rift, I think, although I can't think how."
They sat pondering that for a few seconds. "You believe he could change," Link said, turning the idea over in his head.
"Perhaps, if someone stood up to him, rather than cowering every time he barks an order," Seru suggested.
That was what led to Link's next mistake.
He'd been in Kokiri Forest for about a month—(he'd done his best to make a tally mark for every day spent here on some paper he had found in his cluttered desk) when he saw Mido bossing about poor Wihei, who had been collecting rupees from the grasses.
When he'd seen her start to tear up, something had snapped within him. If they all saw him as an immature child ("not a man at all without a faerie," as Mido's voice mocked even within his own mind), then he might as well behave as if he were one. He'd done the most understandable thing, and punched Mido right in the face.
The man squawked, and fell over, and there was a moment where Link almost felt as if he'd done something good for the world, and then he'd made the mistake of looking at Saria. She looked rather as if he'd just punched her, instead, and her faerie dove at him over and over, as if attacking him in her stead. That look of disappointment, of hurt, was not one he'd soon forget. What had he been thinking? He'd just punched a kid…even Ganon hadn't done that, in his dreams.
Because he'd had the same dream, every night, since the first night he'd arrived here. And, it was always the same. Perhaps, that was the source for the frustration that had brought him to this point, and he'd attacked Mido the way he had wanted to attack Ganon for quite a few months, now. Perhaps, it was just the natural result of his desire to protect. He didn't know.
Saria seemed to avoid him for the rest of that day, but when the nightmare that followed that night had been particularly vivid, he'd awoken to her shaking him, calling him gently out of it, and she hadn't hesitated to use her song to soothe away the tension and fear that followed in its wake.
"Oh, Link…I'm sorry about Mido. About everything. I just…I didn't want to see you stoop to his level. You're better than that," she said, sitting next his bed on a tree stump chair she'd pulled over to his bedside. "But, don't think that I'm angry with you, or disappointed. I understand why you did what you did.
"I hate seeing you this way. I want the old Link back. Perhaps, that's selfish of me. I know you must be suffering. It must be hard, not knowing anything about what's going on. And I know you're still having bad dreams. I've been here almost every night, after all. I wish you felt you could trust me enough to talk."
Link's throat seemed to seal shut, and he could hardly even breathe. Every night, he noticed new things about his surroundings. He was a child in his dreams—something he hadn't consciously noticed the first time. The girl upon the white horse wore pink and white—a dress, unsuited for riding horses, and a headdress that covered her hair, leaving nowhere to look but those wide eyes.
The woman in front of her wore blue armour, and her hair was in a short ponytail. The metallic armour protected her torso and chest, but left her arms mostly unprotected, although she did also have greaves to protect her legs.
Ganon's bright red hair was shorter than Link was used to, and the armour he wore made him seem thinner, and somehow even more powerful, as a taut cord.
Thunder and lightning crackled throughout the air, but never struck any particular place. The area above the drawbridge was emblazoned with the triple triangles, which almost seemed to glow yellow through the gloom. The riders of the white horse galloped over a broad plain—broader than any open area Link had seen in his entire life, save for the Great Sea. The moat was filled with pure, blue water.
He'd noticed a lot, over the past month. The memory of the dream felt permanently etched into his mind, as if he'd see it again, any time he even merely blinked. It was memorable enough, the first time, but these persistent nightmares….
Link swallowed hard, bringing himself back to the present, and cast his eyes to the floor, not looking at Saria. He'd've taken back his attack on Mido if he could've. There was enough horror in his life without breaking the faith of the only person here that knew his secret. He silently swore to himself that, no matter how Mido provoke him, he'd never do such a thing again. He'd take the high road. He'd find a different way to sabotage the man's oppressive rule. To change him. Violence doubtless hadn't been the best choice, after all.
"I'm sorry, too, Saria," his voice ragged and hoarse, betraying just how worn out he'd become. Those nightmares didn't allow for much sleep. He somehow lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent apology in them to add to the spoken one.
Her eyes softened, as she sat by his bedside. He swallowed hard, wondering if this was how it would have been to have a mother to guide him through these years, to comfort him when he had nightmares, and guide him on the path of moral rectitude. He'd tried to be that for Aryll, and hoped that he'd succeeded at the very least until her kidnap.
They sat there for several minutes, with even Gatrice the faerie subdued and silent, before she fluttered over to Link, landing on his shoulder, and chittering high-pitched, incomprehensible noises at him. The corners of Saria's eyes turned down, pushed down by the weight of her furrowed brows.
"He doesn't understand you yet, Gatrice. But, he will, someday. A faerie will come to you, Link. Someday. There are kokiri whose faeries came to them later than this. And the faerie who comes to you will understand you completely, will be able to help you when even I cannot. For now, all I can offer you is my song, and my friendship."
She pulled out the faerie ocarina, as it seemed from thin air, and began to play that same tune. Link let the reassuring melody flood his senses, and lull him to sleep.