Note: Shit, it's been forever. Seeing as I got two chapters in storage, I thought that it'd be best if I put them up. I stopped this as reviews were few, yet I'm in the mood to do this thing again, so here it goes.
Delivery Day Part 2
The green land bore no extreme elevations or deviations from the natural flatness of the midlands, the only higher formations and mountains located far off to the west. Wild plants and flowering ferns were plentiful in the vast field of fertile green, small rises in the land beginning to show more to the west, yet even then, all Link could see was green. A seemingly endless sea of green…up until a large, blur of red met his sight.
The aptly named and even more aptly feared Death Mountain.
Despite being a vast distance away, it did little to ease the tension he experienced whenever he took notice of it, let alone ignite any sort of desire or inclination to want to go and see it up close. Let alone to try and traverse its peaks. It also didn't help that the native inhabitants of the mountain and the surrounding, smaller formations weren't exactly known to be the most hospitable. Beings of solid rock, he had once heard. Of solid rock and just as solid muscle, supposedly birthed from the very mountain itself from a time no longer remembered. Able to traverse through the mountain's boiling magma and reduce boulders to dust, these creatures were fiercely protective of this natural formation and its secrets. Gorons, he believed them to be called, yet even with what little he knew, Link couldn't exactly picture what they looked like. He had never seen one before in all the years he had lived to now.
Some said that they didn't just merely drive one from their claimed land, they would be willing to outright kill and toss the broken and shattered body in some dark cavern to rot and possibly feed the beasts that may be dwelt further down in the deeper places of the monumental, natural work of both awe and terror. Though these tales mainly came from what he had managed to distinguish from the buzzing, near unbearable and collective droning from the market, the stands selling these supposed stones (at least according to his guardian), told of how they had to brave the various dangers associated with Death Mountain in order to obtain the stones and/or metals before them. Of course, some of them appeared to be more genuine, a symbol etched onto some of them, one that bore the shape of a diamond with three split ends going upward. It was something they surely carved in themselves, yet Link recognized it, nonetheless. In fact, he couldn't help but compare those to the one that was tattooed onto Osmivanna's shoulder.
Of course, he also remembered that Osmivanna wouldn't have appreciated it much if he had known that the lad was out here, reflecting on useless information when he was supposed to be on the job AND on the clock.
His destination was a good walk from the town, yet it was more than manageable, having done it more than a few times during his life, especially in childhood. Looking ahead, Link was pleased to find that while on that train of thought, he had gained a good amount of traction and was just nearly there, the border of rock and overhead entryway no more than a few yards away. Yet before he began again, he looked around, particularly near the borders of the place of interest ahead. Usually, they migrated around the most west wall...
Wait, there it was. A neigh.
And another, and another, and... oh! Would he get to...yes! Yes, he would! Not just a few yards away from him, there they were!
It was around the time they should've been arriving, yet still, they usually didn't come this early! And yet there 'they' were! Right in front of him! Feeding off the overgrown grass and other various plants that they could find, yanking it up with their teeth from the Earth, roots and all, and in turn, devouring it with said teeth grinding in a sideways motion, all the while being completely unaware of Link's presence a short distance away.
Such beautiful creatures.
Outside of the high, rock wall surrounding his next destination a small herd of wild horses nestled to feed. Where they traveled through the rest of the seasons, he wasn't sure, yet every year, without fail, they always came to the large field, especially near the rock wall. Whether it was due to the large shade it provided as the sun began to set or simply the proximity, the blonde youth held no true reason or explanation. Nevertheless, every year they came, and every year, Link looked forward to seeing them. Varying from a range of colors, from tan (of which he learned was referred to as 'dun') to the darkest black akin to the night sky, there were even some that were the complete antithesis in bearing a coat of solid, pure white. Rather fortunate they didn't come in the winter, lest Link misses those ones in plain sight.
As a yellowish horse in front of it (palomino, he believed it was called, though he simply didn't know what was wrong with just calling it yellow) moved to the side, the young man found his own eyes caught in a pair of dark, indigo ones a short distance away. Whether it was a stallion or a mare, he knew not, yet he was more than aware that it was the most striking member of the herd. Instead of a black, white, or shade of brown (with needlessly assigned names), this horse bore a coat of deep red, the only one amongst its fellow equine brethren, the white stripe that went down to its darkly colored nose as well as its mane of ivory making Link wonder how on Earth, he managed to miss such poignant details. White cuffs of longer hair (that was the strangest of all to him, they addressed as 'feathered' when last time he was aware, horses bore no relation to birds) stationed above darkened hooves swished slightly as it began to, to both Link's terror and elation, move closer in his direction.
They were all beautiful. Truly, they were, yet this one…this specimen was simply breathtaking. And..wait a moment. Was it…it was. It was coming towards him.
Link was far from expecting such an opportunity such as this to come to him, let alone able to prepare for it, as with the horse coming closer and closer, even with it being a still measurable distance away, Link already found himself nervously backing away. He cursed himself for it, though found he simply couldn't help it. Its powerful legs could very well bruise or break something of his should it wish to, yet the fact that it was approaching him, as if genuinely interested in him, helped ease his mind from thinking of that possibility. Perhaps the animal was interested in the same way he was interested in them...that very sentiment was all Link needed to allow his hand to come up and reach out to the still approaching horse, ready for it to return his touch with its own.
But just as it was about to reach him, its ears twitched, and its head turned in the other direction. The other horses followed suit in this action, and just as quickly as it had been coming towards him, it, along with the rest of the herd, began to run off.
All the elation and fright that had been mixed into a collective concoction and pumping throughout his entire system all came crashing down as Link's equine observer along with its brethren scampered away. The absolute disappointment was all he felt; now mentally kicking himself for not going up and touching the horse himself, as potentially dangerous as it was. Yet with how it was looking so intently at him, surely it didn't have any intention to do so. Surely, he thought. Yet whether his convictions about its intentions were, it mattered not now. Besides, to his suddenly realized horror, he had wasted all that time staring at the wild herd and its uniquely colored member that he didn't even realize how low the sun had gotten! Oh, the old man was going to let him have it this time! He knew it!
With that realization, Link made a mad dash for the gate of the establishment before him, and, with a few more bountiful leaps (at least they were with how hard he was pushing himself), the young man finally made it to his destination.
Lon Lon Ranch.
He hated being so late, after looking forward to coming here too. Still, he wasn't here to lollygag, he had done enough of that already. The sight of a cream-colored, ranch-style home with a tiled roof of brown passed him by, wondering if perhaps Osmivanna's client was already inside, yet upon hearing the collective neighing and chorus of moos not too far ahead, he suspected that his destination was just up ahead.
"Whoop! Easy, boy!" Link headed in that direction, passing the stable that held the animals that had been released earlier that day, they grazing or lounging in the open pasture.
The land, compared to the field it resided in, was rather minuscule by comparison, yet from the cows lazing away on the fertile grass to the small number of cuckoos that wandered around, pecking and bobbing their heads, and rather humorously, displaying their 'big head little body' mentality by pecking at and spooking some of the cows that had occupied a shaded area they wanted to have for themselves, it was more than adequate for them. It certainly must've been, considering that the ranch's pride and joy came from those very bovines, providing most, if not nearly all the income for the ranch. It was so sublime and dare he say, near perfect. Especially compared to the nerve-wracking market days and to a degree, the entirety of Harkinian Town in general. The two residents here knew him well already, as well as his little penchant for silence, and not once had any of the animals here tried to get something out from him even when he made it clear that such a thing wasn't as easy as it was for them.
"Ah, THERE you are!" Link didn't even have time to turn around, the hot air of the horse on the back of his neck already alerting him that his presence had been noticed, perhaps even long before the horse even reached him as the rider atop of it had just addressed him. Turning around, the sight of a dun-colored stallion staring down at him met his eyes, along with the young, able-bodied man not much older than he atop of it also staring down, chocolate brown eyes meeting his blue.
With skin that matched Link's own, perhaps even a shade or two darker, a full head of dark brown, nearly completely black hair was atop of the rider's head, the bangs feathered and seeming to swish off to the left, it also beginning to display the same at the neckline, only with it fanning outward. A yellowish-white undershirt with a pronounced collar that stood upright around his neck was under a gold, split-side tunic with a belt tightened around the waist and a pair of thin suspenders on his shoulders, of which were deep brown leather. Atop of all of this, however, lay a golden necktie that loosely hung, the tied portion keeping it around him decorated with an ornament displaying the carving of some sort of monster with a large mouth and teeth, yet rather shaggy eyebrows and cartoonish looking eyes along with small horns. On his legs were covered to just below the knees with green colored trousers that had red, angular markings alongside the cuffs, his ensemble completed with simple, short socks and brown leather boots.
Link greeted the young rider with a small smile, he, in turn, dismounting the stallion and returning the subdued gesture with a far more hearty, exaggerated grin of white teeth. "Take it that you saw the little batch of visitors we've been getting outside?" The blonde immediately nodded, the rider grinning in response. "Yeah. They're beautiful, aren't they? After all, what other reason would you have to risk your Gramps giving you an earful for being late?"
It took him a moment for him to realize that was a jab at him, Link realizing too late that he nodded in agreement to that. Of course, it was quickly countered by a glare that, to his dismay, didn't affect the darker-haired teen in the slightest. Link ultimately eased his features as well, rubbing the back of his head, as the only look he could give at that moment was a sheepish grin. There was no use in trying to keep up the angry act, that boy could always read him like a book.
"Ey, Terran! Get inside! Can't make lunch by myself, so-" a booming voice called out, the door of the home that Link had passed thrust open and revealing a similar-looking, yet far older and stouter man with a burly, black mustache underneath a large, bulbous nose. He bore the same, friendly; brown eyes, yet even though he shared the same dark hair, it was evident that he had quite a receding hairline. The same colored wrap was tied around his shoulders, the emblem of the monster also keeping it in place. A worn, red shirt that had torn, ripped sleeves rested underneath a brown vest, along with the blue-green trousers the stout man wore, yet surprisingly enough, the leather boots and gloves still seemed to be in good shape. "Ah, hey there, Link!" the man greeted. "Here for delivery, I take it?"
The blonde nodded, gesturing to the sack on his back. "Terran, whatcha' think you're doing?! Get up off that horse and help the boy out!" while that couldn't exactly be done word for word, the young man having to go and take the stallion back out to the paddock, he wasted no time in obeying the older man. "By the way, how long has it been since you had some fresh milk?"
As the thick, creamy liquid eased its way down his throat and cooled down his heated body, Link found himself beginning to think that maybe the risk of Osmivanna scolding him was worth it if he was getting free milk. Not just that, only the best of milk in all of Hyrule!
The interior of the decently sized home was nothing extravagant or fancy, the dining room mainly serving as the hub of the first floor, both Terran and his father's rooms, along with a single guest room located at the top of the short stairway to the right, the steps in themselves not exactly wide either. The table was a simple, square-shaped piece of work, the chairs fashioned in a similar way, as well as the counters and shelves along the walls in the small kitchen. The main source of color in the room was the large rug that lay underneath the table and three chairs (Link wondered why three as there were only the two lived here), made up of several, colored yarn.
Setting down the bottle that was in his hand, Link licked his lips to remove any trace amounts of the creamy substance from his mouth. "Guzzled down half of that thing already?" the older man questioned him, chuckling at the younger boy's obvious enjoyment of the milk. "Been feeding the cows some alfalfa hay mixed in with the ordinary kind we make from grass. Heard that it's good for them, so I just wanted a second opinion. Take it that was some of the best advice I've gotten, huh?"
Link had no protests to that, immediately responding with a very eager and resounding nod.
"Heh, if there's anyone I can trust when it comes to our milk, it's you." Terran's father chuckled, looking over to the large sack that was set next to the table, Link more than eager to be relieved (even if just temporarily) from that large amount of weight he had to carry around. Reaching into the sack, the older ranch owner flipped open the flap and pulled the sickle from the sack. "Ah, good as new. Course your old man would've done no less than near perfect, huh?"
"Especially after the fuss, he made after he found out you were the one that had gone and broken it." Terran stated, having entered the abode and closed the door.
"Hey, it's not like something like that's a rare occurrence, boy." his father retorted. "Could happen to anyone."
KNOCK! KNOCK!
"Hm?" Terran's father raised one brow in confusion, going over to the door and upon opening it, revealed a bald man with a familiar white beard and blue vest.
"Hey there, Tierney!" Mutoh greeted, Terran's father taking a moment or two to realize why the carpenter was here. "Uh, didn't come at a bad time, did I?"
"Hm? Wha-oh! Oh no! No, not at all!" Tierney said, immediately shaking Mutoh's hand. "In fact, I was just expecting you!" it was clearly a rouse, yet the ranch owner stepped outside. "In fact, Terran was giving him a bit of a test run before you arrived! He's right over here..." the rest of the conversation was lost as the door steadily shut behind them, Link and the aforementioned Terran now left alone in the house.
"I'd offer to let you stay for lunch," Terran began, gesturing towards the vegetables yet to be cut on the counter, its surface already riddled with markings and scratches. "But I'd imagine that your Gramps would give you more than an earful even if you're just a few minutes late." Link nodded, begrudgingly. "Still, though...here." he then grabbed one of the bottles of milk stationed on the table. "Don't worry, we've got FAR more than this, and that sickle you brought over will allow us to cut even more alfalfa for them, so if anything, you deserve it."
It didn't take long for Link to question it, swiping the glass from Terran's hand, and as tempting as it was to down the entire thing down in just a few gulps as he had done with the test bottle Tierney gave him, he managed to force himself to keep it away from his lips. His fingers fidgeted with the cork on top, yet still, he didn't open it, opening the large sack lying against the table's leg and placing it inside, then he hoisted the large sack back onto his back.
"You're welcome, I know." The blonde apprentice blacksmith was quite thankful in more ways than one. Though, before Link could depart, the door of the house opened yet again, Tierney and Mutoh standing in the doorway, the bald carpenter seemingly rather relieved to see Link.
"Ah, good! You're here!" he told the younger man. "Your old man told me you've got a delivery for the folks living near you guys. They not in town?" Link nodded, though he wasn't entirely sure. Frankly, it was impossible to find nearly anyone in that crowd, and there was no way he was trekking through it again. "Well, you're in luck! Me and the boys here are loaded up and ready to head out to those woods outside of town! Aren't we, fellas?"
He couldn't exactly see it, yet looking out from over Mutoh's shoulder, there was clearly a loaded wagon with all four of his fellow workers on it, each of them noticing and giving Link a friendly set of waves. "Hey, Boss! The horse here's getting a little antsy!" As if to further drive this point in, the stallion gave a loud bray, its hooves scraping at the ground.
"Just a second!" Mutoh called out, looking back to Link. "Anyway, even if stopping by there's not in your schedule, we could maybe give you a quick trip back to town to drop you off. Surely one of them has got to be home by now. Consider it a favor for getting me my saw."
"Huh?" one of the carpenters, Doyle assumedly, asked. "You sure boss? Not that I'm against taking him, but do you think there's enough room- "
"If there isn't, we'll just MAKE room!" Mutoh barked back, turning his attention back to Link. "You know, it's past noon already, and your Gramps hates you lollygagging. Plus, you've still got to deliver whatever your old man's made to your neighbors, so hop aboard, son!" the elderly, yet still strong and able man commanded. "You're riding with us!"
"Whoah!"
Everyone jumped, though not entirely from the outburst that came from Mack. The wagon wheel had run over a pebble and sent the entire thing jumping a little, jostling everyone from their places.
"Geez, getting a little panicky already, Mack?" Bremor questioned snidely, raising a brow. "Maybe you should try and convince the Boss to sit this one out. You wouldn't survive one night out where we're going."
"Sh-Shut up!" the afro-headed man retorted. "You were startled by that little jump too!"
Whilst his fellow carpenter was clearly annoyed by the other man's comment, Brent found himself puzzled. "Bremor, what are you even talking about?"
The other carpenter appeared almost flabbergasted by this response. "You mean you don't know?"
"Know what…" indeed, Link thought. Know what? After a few seconds of contemplation, it seemed to dawn on Brent what his fellow builder was referring to, immediately scoffing in turn at it. "Oh come on!" he answered. "Don't tell me you believe any of that talk!"
"Y-Yeah." Mack added. "Besides, it's not like anyone has any proof of anything!"
"True," Bremor admitted. "But then how to do you explain the fact that no one else from any of the surrounding villages will even set foot in the woods? Let alone why some people in our line of work have gone missing after going in there?"
"Now I'm confused," Doyle interjected. "Just what ARE you talking about?" he then looked to the young man next to him, having been assigned along with him to make sure none of the tools or food fell out of the cart. "Maybe Link here would also like to know more if this is so interesting to you, Bremor?"
Honestly, Link was NOT overly anxious to hear about it. Especially given that the woods were right where they were all heading. True, he wasn't having to spend the night, or even a few nights there, but still…
"Well, you know the bridges that Mayor Kravindish wants built to link the small areas of land at Lake Hylia?"
"Uh, yeah," Brent answered. "That's sort of why we're even HERE."
"And you also know that every other person he's asked has turned him down. Even the firm that gets work from the Castle turned him down. Even with all the rupees, he promised to pay!"
"Get to the point." Brent sighed. "You've got some crazy theory on why no one wants to go to the forest, so let's just hear it already."
Bremor gave a curt smile. "Well…" he began, drawing out the 'well' to better begin his 'tale'. "You DO know the tales and legends associated with the woods, right?" he questioned, not that it would matter much, as he went on ahead, giving no one a chance to even answer. "Well, I happen to know one particular old story that perhaps may or may not relate to why there are so many cautionary tales about going in there."
"You sure that Link should be listening to this?" Doyle questioned Brent, the other carpenter in turn rolling his eyes.
"Oh come on. It's just nonsensical talk. Besides, Link's not a child. I'm pretty sure he can tolerate it if Bremor's tale gets a little 'spooky'." he chuckled at the last part, rolling his eyes yet again.
Frankly, Link wasn't exactly keen on hearing anything Bremor had to say at the moment, yet to save face, he nodded in agreement with Brent. Besides, what would Osmivanna say if he expressed such cowardice?
"As I was saying," Bremor began again. "Long ago, perhaps even before the first Hylians or any other creature was crafted by the Goddesses hands, a spirit was placed in the heart of these very woods. A creation of all three Graces, yet it's rumored that Farore prided Herself in this particular creation, and thus, it was appointed as the watcher and keeper of all that resided in the forest. The trees, the plants, the animals, all were to be kept under its watchful eye, as well as its protection."
"Then nothing would be able to get done," Brent interjected. "Because, and I hate to break this to you, but even with the recent reluctance to go there, people have gathered wood and all sorts of stuff from those woods for decades, perhaps even centuries."
"If you'd let me, I'm GETTING to that." Bremor hissed. "Now, as I was saying before I was so RUDELY interrupted," Brent rolled his eyes. "It's said that this spirit, despite its duty, knew also of how the Hylian people were in need of the forest. Whether for wood, food, or whatever else, the spirit was instructed to allow them to take what they needed."
"So what's the-" Brent began again, Bremor cutting him off.
"But ONLY what they needed. Should they take out of greed or gluttony, then the spirit was given full reign to drive out or attack those that took advantage of the forest's generosity and abundance." While it was clear he was still indignant, this at least shut Brent up for a bit. "Soon, it's said, that it became so bad, and men so lustful, that the spirit asked the Goddesses to allow it to turn the forest into a safe haven for those that dwelt there naturally, yet for all outsiders, that it be transformed into a twisting, winding maze that they would never hope to escape from. Oh yes, you COULD find your way out, should you be so fortunate, yet unless you're familiar with the forest, let alone have permission from the spirit itself to enter, you'll most likely enter and never come out alive."
The entire group was silent.
"So…" Mack began, finally finding his voice, albeit a rather nervous, panic-stricken one. "The ones that don't...you know...surely people go in to search for them, right?"
"Oh yes, they do. And they're usually left alone." Bremor confirmed. "But they never find what they're looking for."
"Wh-Why not?" Mack gulped.
Bremor wasted no punches, milking this for all it was worth. "Because any soul that dies there is withered down to the bone by the forest creatures. They tear away anything that once linked them to the outside world. Clothes, flesh, anything." Link felt Doyle's hands clasp themselves over his ears, yet his efforts to keep Bremor's story weren't exactly the best, as he could still hear the man. "And then, some force comes over those bones, allowing them to come alive...only the force residing in those bones is the soul of the one that died. Their soul is forever tied to their skeleton, forced to wander the earth and the forest until the end of days, or, by some fortune, they happen across someone to dismantle their twisted form and release them from their self-inflicted curse."
Silence yet again.
Doyle released his hands from Link's ears, yet it was clear that, even with Bremor's tale having finished, no one was particularly eager to speed up the trip.
Especially seeing as the woodline could be seen but a few yards away, the cart and horse drawing closer and closer, the once high sun steadily sinking in the skies above.
With one, final hoist, the last of the sacks were taken off of the wagon. "Thanks for the help, boy." Mutoh thanked, Link handing him the heavy luggage of sorts. "Then again, it's not like we can let you borrow the horse if there's still stuff that on for it to pull, right?" he chuckled, though no one at first answered. "Eh, whatever." the older man then turned to his subordinates. "Hey, don't go too far in! We want to set up camp NEAR the entrance! And no, it's NOT because of any of that mumbo-jumbo Bremor was spouting off about!" Mutoh then left, leaving the young man alone, the horizon above having turned a pale, light pink tinged with specks of orange and violet.
All of which appeared to completely vanish amidst the sea of towering trees that lay before him, he in turn not daring to cross the unseen barrier that was the woodline.
To say that the forest was large would've been criminally inaccurate. If anything, had the very ocean been transformed into a bevy of tightly compacted flora, Link wasn't even sure if it would've been enough to fully cover what was before him. Logically speaking, yes, he knew well that second to the Goddesses Themselves, the ocean was probably the largest, most unconquerable thing in existence. Yet now, gazing upward, unable to even see the sun amidst the tops of the collection of potentially near ancient flora, the ocean was, at the very least, part of the natural world that didn't sound as intimidating.
No way, he thought. No way he was going in there.
"Ok, boy!"
And though he dare not even mention it (not that'd it sound like much), he was beginning to suspect Mutoh and his men were all insane to even think of coming out here!
"Ready to head back?" atop of the horse that had previously been pulling the wagon rode Mutoh. Link eyed the creature the bare-chested older man sat upon: a decent-looking specimen, but nothing compared to the red-skinned, ivory maned beauty he had been blessed in glimpsing. Though any further musing on the mysterious equine was cut short at the horse present came up to him. "Hop on, the old guy's going to give you more than a little grief if you're too late for his liking-"
"WAIT!"
What the... Link looked in the direction of the voice, tempted to rub his eyes to truly see if he was indeed seeing what he was seeing. A good few yards for them he was, yet he was approaching fast, a thin, yet toned man of peach skin and bearing a white and red uniform with a peculiar cap was rushing towards them.
"Oh, it's just the postman." Mutoh responded.
Out here?! Link seemed to be saying with his eyes, yet just as he took his attention off Mutoh, he found himself stumbling back and falling to the ground. Seemingly in no time at all, the red-capped man had gotten but mere inches away from him.
"Excuse me, gentlemen." the lean, clearly speedy man began. "But would one of you happen to be a ?" Link shot up. "Oh, that would be you, sir?"
"Not exactly," Mutoh interjected. "But he lives with him, and he's on his way back to town, so if you're needing to get something to him, this kid here will do half of the work for you."
"Oh! Well, in that case…" the postman paused, reaching into his rather large, packed sack (really, how in the world could he run that fast with that thing, Link thought) and pulled out a simple, white envelope. "Here you are!" Link took the envelope, bringing it closer to better examine it.
It wasn't anything spectacular, the envelope had outright looked like it had seen better days. The wax seal was rather standard as well, yet the question remained: who would've sent something to the old man from outside of town?
"Ah, ah!" the postman lectured. "No peeking. Delivering to him you may be, yet that's still not for you."
"Yes, well, thanks for that," Mutoh answered.
"All in a day's work, sir!" the uniformed mail carrier gave a salute. "Well, I bid you a good day, I must be off!" and with that, he began trekking away from them, vanishing in the distance in an amount of time that, had they not witnessed it themselves, neither of them would've scarcely believed it.
"Whatever he's chowing down on, I'd like a whole pack or gallon." the elderly carpenter confessed, then directing his attention back to Link. "Anyway, let's hurry! Sun's setting, and even at your age, you're still too young to be out here after dark!"
"See you, son!" Mutoh bid farewell, giving the horse a small clap on its rear, it lifting up on its hind legs and then darting off in the direction it had just come from.
Just imagine, Link thought. Just imagine if he could witness that red horse in its place. And he, should the gorgeous thing allow him, be perched atop of it as its rider.
Yet Osmivanna's voice rang in his head. 'Don't be wasting time indulging in fantasies, boy. There's still work to do.'
Speaking of, he could only hope that one of them was home at least. Luckily, Link found that the marketplace was settling, so a good number of the stands had been packed up and their owners had left. If only it could always be like this. True, it was still rather crowded, the fishermen had come in from Lake Hylia and were obviously more than a little eager to return home. Indeed, he could more than relate to that. Heading in the direction of the shop, the small shack that lay not far away was approached, the blacksmith's apprentice knocking on the flimsy, wooden door a few times. Panza brayed lightly to greet him, yet Link paid him no mind, continuing to knock. Goddesses help him if he up and accidentally broke it. Unfortunately, there was no answer. He knocked again, a little harder (but not too hard, lest the old man has a fit), yet still, him alerting of his presence yielded nothing.
Oh, come on, please, he mentally begged. He didn't want to have to wait out here for the entire night. And there was no way that he could go back with a job left undone, the old man would never allow such a thing-
"There you are."
A shiver ran up his back, Link instinctively releasing a rather unbecoming yelp and jumping back right into the door, a figure having decided to make themselves known to him. Ironically enough, despite their 'introduction', it was still someone he was relieved to see. Somewhat.
A young woman around his age stood but a few inches away from him, the bridge of a strange, minimalistic mask that resembled a crude depiction of a fox nearly touching the bridge of his nose. A cape of sorts was draped around her shoulders, the neckline having tufts of blackened fur, the rest of the cloth the same color as the mask, four extra add ons, 'tails', sewn on the back at the end.
The sole daughter of his and Osmivanna's neighbors, Koa.
"I heard that lot making a commotion in the forest but an hour ago," she said, her voice slightly muffled from behind the mask. "Though once I heard them say something of you coming back to town," she removed the carved, smoothed-out wood covering her face. "I decided that it'd be easier to meet you here than track you down."
Even though he was far from unfamiliar with her, Link still found himself uneasy in her presence, especially whenever her eyes bore into his. The aforementioned feature of hers bore a striking, honey color, almost golden as if they belonged to an animal that was wearing human skin. In contrast, her hair was dark violet, the ends coming to her shoulders and flipping outward, a red cloth tied around her bangs and atop of her head like a headband, the ends tied into a tight bow in the back. Yet aside from those features, whilst Link dare not mention it, let alone make note of it, the rest of her made it obvious that she and her family weren't exactly the most well-off folks around.
The first layer of her outfit consisted of a beige underdress that bore no sleeves and held red trims on both the collar that came to her neck and on her shoulders. A crest rested on where her neck met her upper chest, the metal clearly aged and somewhat rusted, green and a circular topaz centered in the small piece of jewelry. A lighter dress of purple lay over the beige, clearly too small for her and not even able to cover below her waist, the ends fashioned into arcing ovals with yellow trims and red markings in the small sections the dress dipped down in. A blue undershirt with square ends along the rims compensated for the short length, the beige dress that lay under that not as kept up, the ends ripped in various places. A shash of darker violet was fashioned around her waist, circular patterns embezzled on it. And whilst it was barely able to be seen, a pair of green undergarments rested underneath her mishmash of differently colored clothing haphazardly thrown together. Her lower half was a bit easier on the eyes, her wrists held fingerless gloves of violet with silver bands around the wrists, and her legs bore stockings of beige with large blue sections at the top, red trims, and patterns in the space seemingly resembling that of flickering flames. Silver bands akin to those around her wrists were fashioned around her ankles, a simple pair of slip-on, purple shoes on her feet.
Whether it be her eyes, her attire, or just her overall demeanor in general, Link always found his nerves on alert whenever he took notice of, or in this case, had to interact with Koa. It wasn't as if he meant to say she was a bad person of any sort, yet he couldn't exactly say whether or not she was good. Frankly, even with all the years, he HAD known of the young woman's existence, she always had this 'air' about her, an 'air' that never failed to make his hair stand up on end.
"...do you plan on standing around idly?" she questioned the still semi-startled young man, tilting her head slightly as if studying him. Link could've sworn that she was looking as if she were contemplating whether or not he looked like something she'd 'like'. Not in the sense of her being pleased with what was in front of her, yet as if she were analyzing some delicacy she had yet to sample, torn between whether or not to take a bite. After a moment or two of this, thankfully, Link thought, she held out her hand to him. "You have what was asked for. Give it to me."
Oh right, the motor. Funny how he had managed to forget that, given what he had come here for.
Those eyes of hers…
Bringing the small instrument out, Koa quickly took it from Link, holding up in front of her and surveying the object, her expression still remaining still and cold. "The last one will be impossible to replace...and it's clear that this one is smaller..." Link flinched slightly at that.
'Told you that it was made too small, boy. Should've paid more attention to the measurements she gave ya.'
"...but it shall do." a sigh of relief escaped him, of which caused the dark-haired young woman to raise a brow. "Thank you...I suppose." she then turned her eyes to the donkey that had been standing at attention the whole time. "Be sure to at least bid Panza goodbye. He's been lonely since mother and father decided to borrow one of the ranch's horses today."
Well, that explained why the donkey was here, given how the animal was almost always gone whenever her parents went to sell wares. Link watched as Koa made her way to the door of her small home, yet she didn't enter. She simply stood, seemingly eyeing the young blonde, then looking back to Osmivanna's shop. As if giving him a silent command to get going.
Something of which he wasted no time in follows. Of course, he gave Panza a small pat on the muzzle before making his way back. And while he couldn't see it, Link found a shiver working his way up his back at the thought of it. But...no. No, that's just silly, he thought. After all, what reason would she have to simply stand and stare at him like…
His breath caught in his throat, immediately stepping inside.
"I take it you're done, seeing as you're...what's up with you, boy? Looks like you've just seen a ghost."
In truth, he saw nothing.
No one.
And the door looked as if it hadn't been touched.
"Better hurry up. It ain't going to be warm forever."
Finally! With permission having been granted to him, the old man's apprentice immediately dug into the steaming, thickened substance that rested in the aged, wooden bowl.
The small, black pot had been sat upon the table, its contents fresh and hot. Not exactly a meal that one would perhaps wish for due to the rapidly approaching summer, yet the night air was chilled and crisp, thus, such warmth was more than welcome. Kroger, a simple, yet thick and filling stew. Thickened, creamy broth filled with chopped onions, celery, carrots, and potatoes coated the inside of Link's mouth, reveling in the thickened, fresh taste of the cooked vegetables. If only they had some soda bread at their disposal, then this meal would've been perfect! Only…wait a moment. He tasted something else in the combination. Cod?
"Managed to catch some of the men down at the port with some leftovers." Osmivanna told the boy, apparently having read his confusion. "Usually don't have fish in our meals, so I decided to try it out."
Well, if that was the case, frankly, Link was wondering if he could ever go back to simply having vegetables in the broth, for, as he found, the fish had risen the stew to even better levels of flavor. Still, if only there were some soda bread…
"So," the old blacksmith began, speaking in between periods of wolfing down the thickened substance. "Not that it's much of a question, let alone one that isn't obvious, but how's your day been?"
Link glanced at Osmivanna, shrugging in response. At the moment, all he wanted to concentrate on was this stew.
"Me too." The old man answered, going back to his stew as well. "Had a couple of folks come in." he said in between slurps. "Same ol', same ol'. Hammer's broken, saw's rusty…" he went on, seemingly growing more and more discontent as he listed off the string of minimal, seemingly uninteresting tasks. "Really, either these people have no concept of how to take care of anything, or they think we're THAT desperate, that they're going and breaking stuff out of pity!" he grumbled. "…course, not to say I'd turn either away, seeing as, either way, it's still money."
And more things for the old man to send him around to do.
"Such is our lot, boy." The blacksmith said. Honestly, sometimes Link swore that he could read his mind. The young boy maneuvered a bit on his stool, a light breeze seeping in from the windows.
Rustle…
Hm?
"What's that?"
Link looked down to his pants pocket, setting his bowl upon the table. Oh. Oh, yes! He had forgotten among all the deliveries!
"Huh?" Osmivanna raised a thickened brow at the sight of the small, enclosed letter the blonde boy pulled out. "That for me?" the old man took the letter and read the front. Only to then get up from his stool and make his way down from the loft. Link was more than a little puzzled, if not outright shocked by such a reaction, he about to rise from his own sitting place to go after his caretaker. "Have the rest of my stew, boy." Osmivanna shouted from below. "Don't come down here for a bit. I need to read this alone." What in the world…what was on that paper that spurred such a reaction as this? Link began making his way towards the ladder. "Stay where you are!" the old man ordered, the blonde in turn freezing up upon hearing such a strong bellow. "Go eat your dinner, or I'll toss it out for the critters outside!"
Link wasted no time sitting back down and devouring the stew, more or less out of fear of the old man. Granted, he was far from one to go and toss food out, especially given how adamant he was in salvaging any sort of piece he made. There were more days than he could count when he would rant and rave about how one of his customers up and wasted a perfectly good tool or work he had apparently poured blood, sweat, and tears over. Though Link could attest that it was mainly sweat. The only tears he had seen was from the unfortunate souls that Osmivanna had managed to get ahold of for committing such a 'crime'. No blood as of yet, though there were a good few times that he came close to shedding it.
But still…not even that produced such a reaction as this simple piece of paper.
Link could've been mistaken, yet the blacksmith's response didn't indicate rage. Not genuine rage at least. No, this, and he could've been mistaken, yet it seemed to invoke a distinct sense of dread.
Immense dread.
Later that Night
The cotton nightshirt slipped over his upper half, coming to drape midway on his thighs, not giving him much protection from the chilled, night air. His arms, of which the shirt held no sleeves for, and the rest of his legs began to produce gooseflesh, the urge to go and start a fire down in the shop more than desirable at the moment. Though the heat that once consumed the entirety of the building before had all but dissipated now, the fire out, the tools cooling off, and the echoes of metal being beaten into shape all little more than reminiscing in the young man's mind.
CREAK
Someone was coming up the ladder, the sight of the old man still garbed in his work clothes putting Link off for a moment.
"Well, seems you're ready for bed." Osmivanna observed, finally completing the journey up. "Good. Hopefully you'll rise at least an hour earlier."
Link averted his blue eyes for a moment, a small, sheepish grin coming to him as he rubbed the back of his head.
"Hey, listen, boy." The blacksmith began, voice unusually gentle. "Sorry about earlier. With the letter I mean. It was…" he paused, as if he were robbed of any words to say. Link's brow quirked ever so slightly. Indeed, something was up. He felt such the moment that letter was given to him. Yet now, now he began regretting even handing him that thing. "Anyway," Osmivanna began again. "I just wanted to let you know I apologize. I didn't mean to snap at you."
He was avoiding talking about it entirely too. This…everything about this didn't feel right.
"Anyway, I suppose I best get settled in too." The old man straightened his apron. "Besides, I've got some extra things to take care of, so you get yourself to bed, you hear?"
Nothing about this felt right. Still, regardless, Link knew better than to push it. He parted his lips, even if he knew it was unlikely any sound would come out. Yet still…
"Yeah, yeah, I know, boy." Osmivanna told him, beginning to head down the ladder again. "Good night."
Closing his mouth, Link simply bid him the same with a small wave, the old man disappearing.
A small growl came from the blonde boy, fingers gripping onto his sheets as he climbed into bed. His hand then clutched at his throat. Oh, if he could JUST reach in there and maybe tweak with whatever lay inside to try and get something to come out! It wasn't as if he were entirely incapable! Yet it was never consistent! Sounds seemed to never come naturally! They seemed to have whims of their own in whether they wished for him to produce them or not.
From under his mattress, he pulled out a small, worn out book, his fingers lightly caressing the equally worn out cover.
Oh well. At least he didn't need and vocalization for this.
Flipping through the pages, his blue eyes scanned through, searching for something that caught his interest. Though truth be told, it had been some time since he read it. Perhaps it was best to start somewhere near the beginning.
Ah, here was a good place-
"Wait right there!"
Hm? What the-
"What?" Link didn't get a chance to respond before a pair of hands snatched the book out of his own. "Don't tell me you were going to start without me, were you, boy?"
The blonde was nothing short of flabbergasted, both at Osmivanna's sudden entrance, and at what he was about to do.
"What? Oh, I see." The old man began. "You think you're too old, don't you? You're not some kid anymore, huh?"
Link didn't respond, though his first reflex was to nod.
"Well, too bad! Because as far as I'm concerned, our deal's still on! So, it's reading this or whatever else is lying around here, and Goddesses strike me dead if I should fail to!"
Well…no need to get that dramatic about it. But, yet again, Link wasn't going to argue. An important lesson for living with the old man. Never argue. Ever. EVER.
"Now then,…ah!" Osmivanna declared, looking to where Link had decided to begin. "Not a bad one. No…not bad at all."
Clearing his throat, he began.
Tale of the First Peoples and the Triforce
After the World was made, and the Three Goddesses ascended to their thrones in the heavens, the first peoples came to live down on the world they had made, after every other creature, plant and beast, was made.
Using their own bodies as molds for their shapes, the Graces appointed two leaders to guide the people: a King and a Queen. In their possession, the Golden Triforce was left to them for keeping. "Go forth," they said. "Go forth, and multiply. Be plentiful and create generations that shall live and give glory to our creation, the World, for you too are a creation of us. But in this, you must not forget, there are others here that live amongst you. The people of the mountain, the people of the water, the beasts of the air, sea, cave, and forest. All these are of us, and none bear anything more or less than you in our eyes. Therefore, only fight and defend as you must, should there be conflict. Yet the ground below you is just as much your possession as it is theirs. The Triforce shall serve as a reminder of all of this. Keep these simple laws, and your people will never be swept away."
And thus, from the Goddesses' blessing and the efforts of the first King and Queen, the kingdom of Hyrule was formed. For a time, the peoples of all lands lived together in harmony. Yet, as mortal creatures tend to do, such harmony did not last.
"What do we owe the other peoples of the land?" the Hylians thought. "We were made by the Goddesses in their image! We have long ears so that their messages come directly to us! And we have the Power of Gold on our side! We should not have to limit ourselves! We should spread out over all the land and take what we deserve!"
And thus, they began to intrude and invade the territory of the other peoples. They began to kill and slaughter all who got in their way, and those that they could not kill, they made into slaves. Whips scarred their backs, and chains kept them in place, the kingdom of Hyrule growing into a prosperous, lustrous kingdom, yet on the blood of their neighbors.
This angered the Goddesses greatly. The Hylians had grown arrogant and wicked due to their possession of the Triforce.
And due to their wickedness, word of the sacred treasure's power began to seep out into the lands outside the kingdom, the peoples they had treated so cruelly now wanting to gain ahold of it, so that they would then be the ones with the power to crush their oppressors.
The entire land erupted in war, peoples and tribes fighting all around, families split apart, mothers left without children and children left with no one to protect them from being struck down as well.
This had to end.
So, the Divine called forth six mortal beings: each from a different race, yet all called for the same purpose.
"The Triforce being here amongst you was to remind you of our watchful eyes and attentive ears. Yet you have grown cold and cruel due to it. You believe that it gives you the right to take and pillage as you please. This is not so, and thus, beings such as you cannot be trusted with such a thing. An entrance to the Sacred Realm, one of the layers of the Heavens above, shall be opened to you. Here, you will put the Triforce, and here, it shall stay. Then, this entrance is to be kept under lock and key, never opened unless access to it is truly needed."
So, the six peoples went to work. They constructed a temple, and a specific system that served to lock the Triforce away from mortal eyes and hands. A great door blocks the only way in, and that door is sealed with three, special stones. Stones of Emerald, Ruby, and Sapphire, each a representation of the Forest, the Mountain, and the Waters of Hyrule. And behind this door, inside a chamber in the heart of the temple, a great, majestic sword rests in a pedestal. Removing this sword would allow one to access the Sacred Realm, and in turn, the Triforce.
Yet the Goddesses and the six builders were clever in their design. For this sword would not relinquish itself from its place for anyone. Only one chosen by the Graces themselves can retrieve it from its place. And this individual is said to be nothing short of a hero. One that shall save the land of Hyrule from any and all incoming threats, no matter how large. And from his victory, he shall help usher in a New Age for the Kingdom, releasing prisoners from their captivity, and leading the lost home.
"Well, not exactly the beginning, but close enough," Osmivanna said, closing the book. "Besides, at the moment, it's something you shouldn't be caring about either." He reached forward, rustling the boy's hair. "You're getting to bed, even if I have to knock your lights out with this thing here!"
Link finally managed to get the old, but strong blacksmith's hand off of his head, small giggles escaping him. Far from a becoming sight for him, yet again, do NOT argue with the old man. EVER.
"Sorry about earlier. Again." Osmivanna told his apprentice, stroking his callused, worn fingers through the boy's head of hair, albeit far gentler. Link tilted his head to the side, beginning to reach outward in an attempt to perhaps direct the conversation back to the incident earlier, yet his hand was stopped. "Just…go on. Get to bed. I'll see you in the morning."
The young man didn't get anything, not a gesture or silent protest, or even the first semblance of a word out before the blacksmith made his way back down the ladder. Link simply looked on, frankly, at a complete loss on what to make of what had transpired before, and how, whatever it was, it was clearly affecting the old man, even now.
Still…don't argue with him. Ever.
Turning to the small oil lamp stationed on a small table beside the bed, Link lifted the glass cover and licked his fingers, snuffing out the nearly burnt away wick, bathing the loft in a darkened haze, the only source of light being the rays of the moon above.
A million or so things still lingered on his mind. Particularly regarding what he had seen and heard today. Supposedly dangerous forests and letters…odd.
Very, very odd.
Very…very…odd.
Note: This is a dear project to me, so if interested, please review. Thank you.