A knock at the door and a shout of "Breakfast!" startled Link awake. Despite having had only a few hours of sleep, he felt well rested and alert. It quickly became apparent, though, that the same could not be said of his roommate.
"I don't remember asking for a wakeup call…" he grumbled. "Do you s'pose there'll still be food in an hour or so?"
"Not hot food, to be sure," Link chuckled. "I doubt this inn is equipped for an extended mealtime." The young man groaned again. Link pushed back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for his boots. "By the way, thanks for not killing me in the night and running off with my wallet."
The stranger belted a muffled laugh into his bedding. "No problem. I, too, appreciate not being dead." With a grunt the boy pushed himself to his seat and swung his legs over the bed. Link almost laughed when he saw his toes barely reached the floor. The boy shoved on his boots and pulled his tunic over his head. Link had already donned his own tunic and his vambraces were already laced, but he hesitated to leave without the stranger. An awkward sort of familiarity kept him wanting the company, despite not really knowing the other traveler. Perhaps it was simply that they were similar in age, or that they had arrived at the same time, but regardless of the real reason, Link thought it best he appear to be traveling with a group rather than alone. Better deterrent against unsavory folk, he thought.
The stranger finished strapping his sword to his back and followed Link out the door into the narrow hallway. The heavy scent of pumpkin soup wafted up the stairs along with soft singing and the mumble of conversation. As they descended into the common area Link also picked up hints of seared venison and fresh bread. Quite the inn for 70 rupees a night. The commons were already filled with people, though most were grouped together on one side of the hall. A serving girl fluttered about their tables, humming a cheerful tune as she carried their dishes. Probably the party that got stranded.
"Ah, good morning masters!" the innkeeper greeted with a smile. "Hope the beds were satisfact'ry? Take a seat an' one o' the girls will 'ave breakfast to you shortly. Mind you we'll still needs to be discussing payment 'fore you leave, so don't go sneakin' off!"
The innkeeper laughed - a laugh directed more to herself than to them - and continued on with her work. Link and the young man made their way across the room to an empty table just out of earshot of the large party. Sure enough, food was brought almost the instant they sat down. Neither spoke as they ate, ravenously inhaling the deliciously fresh meal. Link hadn't realized how hungry he was until creamy soup slid its way into his empty stomach.
"Wow," the stranger mumbled through a mouthful, "I haven't had venison in such a long time."
Link raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were hunting when you got lost, just like me."
The boy blinked several times and swallowed hard. "I, um… mostly hunt small game, you know?" He chuckled nervously. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm not very large. Doubt I could haul a decent buck back home by myself."
Link laughed. "I suppose that's true." They ate in silence again until little more than crusts of bread remained.
"Well," Link began again, clearing his throat, "Do you think they have a map?"
"Probably, let's see." The stranger flagged down one of the serving girls.
"Yes, sir, though we only have one," she replied sheepishly. She pointed to a table in the far corner. "The master over there is using it now."
Link waved the girl off with a thank you and took a good look at the man seated with the map. Though cloaked, it was easy to tell he was a force to be reckoned with. He looked to be in his early thirties and likely nearing six feet tall, with heavyset shoulders and hands rough from labor. He wore fingerless leather gauntlets plated with gold armor, and the lay of his cloak told Link he had a full suit to match. Despite his hood being drawn closely, bright yellow hair peeked out from the darkness and framed a sharp, angular face. Leaning against the back of the man's chair was an incredibly large claymore.
"We probably shouldn't bother him," the young man breathed. Link nodded in agreement. "Where are you headed anyway?" he continued.
"That depends on where I am," Link replied. "Though likely I'll be headed to Castle Town." He omitted the fact that he'd be going there for the castle more than the town. "Yourself?"
"Seems like the more we talk the more we have in common," the stranger smiled. "You're not my double now are you?"
Link chuckled. "If I were some kind of magical doppelganger, wouldn't my hair at least be the same color?"
"True, true," the boy laughed. He made a quick glance around the room. "Seeing as neither of us has killed the other yet, may I ask your name?"
Link opened his mouth to answer when the bang of the door and a shriek from a serving girl interrupted. Both he and the stranger reached for their weapons.
"My goodness lad, what's happened?" the innkeeper gasped.
"Nothing, ma'am, I'm fine." A young man wearing a tattered short-cloak and leaning on a cracked sword hobbled further into the commons. "I'm only in need of a map, is there one I can use?"
"Fine is not the word I would choose!" the woman sputtered. "Dear, you're covered in blood! Take a seat an' le' me take a look atcha."
The young man pulled back his hood in exasperation, revealing shoulder-length sandy hair tied back in a loose ponytail and what Link could only describe as the bloodiest minor head injury he had ever seen. Clearly only a scrape, the forehead wound gushed profusely down the boy's frustrated face. Link was tempted to laugh at the innkeeper fretting until he saw the gash in the man's side and the bloodied state of his sky-blue tunic.
"Ma'am, I just had a run-in with a moblin or two. I'm fine. May I please see a map?" The innkeeper's jaw dropped open for a moment before closing with a harrumph. She pointed to the man in the corner, who hadn't looked up, and the young man dashed across the room as quickly as his limp would let him. As soon as his back was turned the innkeeper called over her girls and disappeared into the back room.
Link looked back at his roommate and gestured to the map table. The young man shrugged, and they both stood.
"You really should have that seen to," they heard the older man say as they approached.
"Just a scratch," the younger replied, somewhat out of breath. "I've had worse."
"Doesn't change the fact that you should have that seen to," the man repeated. He looked up at the two approaching boys. "Do you two need the map as well? I'm happy to share my table."
Link gave a start at seeing the man clearly. On his right cheek were two thin, blood red stripes, and on his forehead an outline of a sword point in dark blue. The armor showing from beneath his cloak was exceptional; the heavy, plated cuirass was polished to a silver sheen and bore inlays matching the solid gold of his gauntlets. Most shocking, however, was the thick, deep scar over the man's right eye. Despite his battered appearance, his face was still quite young, his skin light but not pale, and his one blue eye showing soft kindness. Link shook off the surprise and took a seat with a thank you.
"Ah, of course, the map is already crowded." A new voice approached the table. "Good Gods, man, what happened to you?"
Link looked up. The owner of the voice was dressed in a layered tunic of crimson and green, light mail just poking out from underneath. He looked to be a few years older than Link, having slightly more muscle tone and a bronzy tan to his skin. His knee-high leather boots boasted weathered metallic wings and inlaid patterns of wind. His smug but shocked expression was framed by windswept orange-blond hair, glints of pink shimmering as the strands shifted. Atop the man's head sat a long, bluish lavender hat that tapered to a point between his shoulder blades. That startled Link. The only person he knew that wore a hat like that was himself, and seeing the other man wearing a similar one made him realize his own hat was missing.
"I'm fine," the bloodied boy hissed. It came out as almost a wheeze.
"Like hell you are," the man scoffed, "You're bleeding out."
"Bleedin' out all over my dining hall." The innkeeper reappeared with a crew of girls carrying towels and bandages. "If ya won't take proper treatment at least le' me stop ya from ruinin' ma onleh map."
"I don't have time for this," the boy shouted, weakly pushing off the serving girls. "I have to get back to… I can't… stop to take care… of something so… minor…" Link's eyes boggled as the pale traveler wobbled and collapsed. The innkeeper yelped and the newcomer lunged forward to catch him, lowering him gently to the floor. The older man leapt to his feet.
"Whoa there," the newcomer cringed, "He's out cold. Anyone have a red potion?"
"I have one in my room," Link and his roommate chimed in unison. Link passed him an odd glance, which was returned in full favor.
"No need." The older man knelt down next to the fallen boy and removed a bottle from his pouch. Popping the lid off, a glowing pink fairy floated daintily out of the container. With a whirl and a glimmer, the young man's gashes knit back together, and color came back to his face.
The stranger in red gave a whistle. "Wow, old man, where'd you find one of those?"
"I travel," he replied, stowing the bottle again. "Fairies are a handy friend to have, and I've met quite a few over the years."
The boy in blue inhaled sharply and let out a hefty cough. The innkeeper squeaked in surprise, putting a hand to her chest. Composing herself, she cleared her throat. "I s'pose that means my girls can go back to work, then?"
"He should be fine, ma'am," the eldest man assured. The woman nodded blankly, then returned to the kitchens shaking her head and mumbling something about unwanted surprises.
"Ugh…" the collapsed boy groaned, "What…? Where…?"
"Still at the inn," the red-clad man grimaced, "Passed out and just about died. Lucky some of us have the sense to carry healing items. What are you doing wandering around with half your spleen hanging out?"
The boy shook his head and shakily got to his feet. "It's none of your concern, but it is very important that I get where I'm going." The man was about to protest further when a gilded gauntlet cut him off.
"The map is right here," the older man said calmly. "It would appear all five of us are a bit lost, am I correct? Last I checked it was entirely possible for strangers to share a table without invading each other's privacy." The group exchanged looks. "Take a seat."
The high energy in the tavern dwindled back to a hum as the group settled awkwardly around the map. The older man seemed to ignore the tension of distrust at the table and took up describing their current location – a town called Beaverville on the road between two other towns Link hadn't heard of. Just as he had guessed, the town was deep in the Great North Forest, but the more he looked at the map, the less sure of where he was. How old is this map? He noted familiar landmarks such as Death Mountain and Spectacle Rock, but most were not positioned quite how he had remembered, and fewer still bore names that sparked his memory. Caution prompted him to pretend he recognized the place. It would be strange if a hunter presumably lost in this forest had never heard of the nearby towns.
"From how I understand it," the older man continued, "Anyone looking to go further south should head west to Lehara, which seems to be a hub of sorts. Anyone looking to head into the mountains would be better served by Pocatai to the northeast."
The boy in blue stood abruptly. "Then I guess west it is. Thank you for the assistance."
"Wait," cut in the man in red, "I'm also headed west. Care for a traveling companion? Better to start out together than for me to find you dead on the road later."
The boy looked irritated, but had no chance to respond before the shortest of them chimed in.
"I and my fellow are also headed west, to Castle Town," he said, adjusting his green headband. Link nodded in confirmation.
"To Castle Town?" the boy remarked. "Odd, that's where I'm going."
"As am I," the man in red noted in surprise.
The four of them turned to look at their weathered senior.
"Well," he half-laughed, "I suppose we're all headed the same way." His face turned a shade darker. "Strange, though. Five strangers all lost so far from home."
Anxious glances were passed around the table. It was true. The castle was easily two week's travel by horse. It was clear none of them were simply lost hunters. Link fingered his sword, waiting for someone to speak.
"Funny how quickly trust can be shattered," the man in red coughed. "Even so, we're all on the same path. May as well stick together."
The shortest boy tugged on his tunic belt and nodded. "Safety in numbers."
The boy in blue shifted from foot to foot before agreeing. "I guess I could spare an hour to gather supplies."
"I doubt we'll even need that long," Link put in. "I can leave at any time."
"As can I," the older man added.
"Me too," Link's fellow concurred.
"Not me." The man adjusted his red tunic and glanced over at the innkeeper. "I haven't eaten yet. It's not often I get to enjoy a home-cooked meal. Perhaps we reconvene in, say, half an hour?"
The group agreed and left to prepare for departure. Link found the innkeeper and paid her his due before heading up to his room. He did his best to mask his anxiety; the boy in blue was not the only one with a need for haste. If the headbanded boy also required urgency, he gave no sign, buckling every belt and bag with relaxed surety. The two equipped the rest of their gear in a silence more intense than that of the night before. I suppose questioned trust is more frightening than trust not had. He was glad the injured boy had interrupted their conversation before he had given his name.
Link returned to the commons, his roommate following cautiously, to find the innkeeper hassling the boy in blue while the man in red snickered profusely.
"I don't give a clucking cucco abou' no fairy magic," she insisted, trying to force a bowl of soup into his hands, "No potion or spell will do ya any good on an empty stomach!"
"Ma'am, please, I am fine."
"If it's payin' me you're worried abou' you can stop yer frettin', this is on the house."
"Could I pay you not to give me food?"
"You suggestin' I'd accept money in exchange fer lettin' a man kill himself? There aren't enough rupees in all Hyrule for that!"
"You haven't seen my wallet yet."
Link chuckled but sat next to his fellow solemnly. Either that one's incredibly skilled with a blade, or incredibly naïve. Several members of the stranded party had begun eavesdropping at the talk of rupees. I hope that doesn't bring us trouble later on.
The boy in blue took the seat next to Link with a grumble, nearly splashing soup out of the bowl as he slammed it on the table. Link took the opportunity to study his new companion further.
He had cleaned up a bit – or more likely forcibly been cleaned. Blood no longer stained his face, and his hair was less tangled, but surprisingly he almost looked worse off. A spiderweb of pinkish scars laced its way down the left side of his face and neck, tainting what would have been beautiful alabaster skin. The skin of a noble. The tunic seemed to match that observation. Though stained and bearing a massive tear in the side, the fine cotton was durable and embroidered with unnaturally bright silver thread. Down the center of the garment Link could pick out the pattern of a sword beneath the many belts strapping weapons to the man's back. The long-sleeved underlayer looked as though it had once been a sparkling white, but it had clearly seen its share of mud. The boy also wore azure hoop earrings, as well as fingerless gloves and archery guard wraps, a leather vambrace befitting a knight on his right forearm. The weapons didn't seem to fit the noble appearance, however. The sword bore no sheath, the shield no grips, and the bow had certainly seen better days.
One thing in particular baffled Link. Strapped next to the stranger's obviously bulging wallet was a rectangle made of a material he could not place. The tablet was a deep brown with a handle cut into the top, and across it in luminescent orange and blue was inlaid the pattern of an eye – a deep, wide, piercing eye, calling to the back of Link's mind for a spark of recognition that didn't want to ignite.
"You like this, do you?" Link nearly flinched at the sudden interruption to his thoughts as the long-haired boy pulled the tablet from his belt. Guess I wasn't being as discreet as I thought.
"It's intriguing," Link said, "I don't think I've seen that material before."
"I'm not sure what it's made of either," the boy puzzled, "It's quite handy, though. I-"
"I wouldn't discuss that in the open, if I were you," the man in red hissed across the table. He tilted his head in the direction of the other party.
The boy glanced over and then replaced the slate on his belt. "What do you know about it?"
The man crossed his arms over his chest. "Nothing, never seen it before. I just know what a group of thieves look like when they're tempted by a mark. If we're going to travel together, I'd rather not be bothered by bandits, especially when I'm not their target."
"Agreed," the headbanded boy breathed.
Almost as if on cue, the oldest of the five arrived at the table. "Good, we're all here. Prepared to leave, I presume?"
"As long as Mr. Reckless here doesn't have any other valuables he wants to flaunt," the man in red growled, "we should be all set."
"It was your idea to travel together," the boy muttered as they stood.
Link sighed. This was going to be a long walk.