[Author's Note: This story takes place about a month before Ocarina of Time begins. The main character's search should become clear as the story moves along (along with who he is, of course), but the reasons behind it may not. For that, it is suggested that you read The Fallen Sage, my first fanfic, if you are still confused. This is a standalone story, though, so you should be fine. Enjoy.]
He watched her. She did not know he was there, of course, for he insured his vantage spot was quite hidden. Not that it mattered, she would not notice him anyways. Why am I doing this? he thought. But such thoughts quickly exited his mind. She had to be tested; he had to observe her. For if she passed today, and the numerous other tests that awaited her, the future of the world would be in her hands. And he knew he had to make absolutely sure she was the one.
Besides, he did not set up this test. It was natural, something numerous children her age faced every day. The children, of course, don't see it as a test; they see it as living. The girl undoubtedly did not look forward to her meeting, but she had to do what her mother told her. It was not a difficult task, merely delivering lunch to her two older brothers working in the fields. The two were not fond of farm work, and were not too fond of her either. For she was favored by their parents, and rightly so. She was smarter, stronger willed, more caring, and more charismatic than they would ever hope to be, despite her young age. It was those properties that made them hate her, and it was this hate that scared her. And it was those properties that were the reason he was watching her now, hoping they would shine through.
She handed over the sack to the older brother. Good. Don't back away, don't look nervous. He grabbed it from her with a look of disgust. He spoke, then, and the girl responded, but the words were lost in the wind. It did not matter, he could infer their meaning. He was angry, taking out his anger on his little sister. But she stayed calm, attempting to deflect that anger away from her. She's doing fine. She's handling him. Impressive for such a young girl. It wasn't working, no matter how she tried to calm him. The brother's voice elevated, and the other brother also joined in, but still she remained calm. She took the verbal abuse without flinching, without backing down. She knew how to handle them, he thought as she walked away from the two boys. She knows the limits of their power, and refuses to get upset.
But as she walked out of range, something else appeared. A tear ran from her eye. She tried to hold it back, tried to give the appearance of being strong, but he saw through it. Her brothers might not notice, her family may not notice, she could go through life hiding her weakness from everyone, but he saw it. He knew what was in her thoughts. Why do they do this? "If only they could stop. If only someone could make them stop. If only I could deal with them better. Life would be wonderful then." Thinking how much better the world would be in your control. Not that she thinks that directly, but it's there. Why can't they know it? Why can't they realize how dangerous such thoughts are? They wish power, even in such limited ways, and so cannot have it. At least not the ultimate power. Why can't she accept them and get past her problems? But there was no point in worrying about it now. She had failed, and he had no more use for her. With a slight sigh, he left.
She looked in the sky and saw an owl flying away. Memories stirred in her mind, of seeing an owl often when she was a mere toddler. Perhaps this was the same one? But she put such childish thoughts from her mind. That old owl was probably just a figment of her imagination. Why would an owl spend so much time watching her? Such a silly thing to link these two owls together. Her thoughts soon turned to other matters; the owl quickly forgotten forever.
A few miles away, the owl finally stopped for a rest. Why am I so disappointed? he thought. I should be used to it. Dozens of people failed before her. I did not think she would actually be the one. But he knew why. The endless search had gone on far too long; there was no hero to be found. Countless times he wondered if he was being too harsh, refusing to endorse the hopefuls for too trivial of reasons. Could they not handle it with his advice? And Rauru's as well? Yet, once again, he rejected such thoughts. It was much too important to leave to chance. He had to make absolutely sure the person would have their heart in balance. The risks were too great. But the rejection of this idea came slower, and with less conviction, then it had in the decades before. The appeal of giving up, of simply choosing one and hoping for the best, was slowly gaining on him.
To give up, that was his dream. He relished the day when his job would be over; when his goal was found. Then he could finally live. Or die. Death didn't always have so much appeal, but as time rolled by he began to get sick of this world. And his existence within. To be trapped in an owl's body for centuries was a bitter and tormenting experience, and ending it all would be bliss. But there were none who remained who remembered his time, the potential for great power and the corruptions it brings. He had a promise to fulfill, a job to do. And he was determined to find the right person.
Hunger. It was a moment he always dreaded, yet it had come again. There was no sense in putting it off, and a few moments of scanning the area revealed a suitable rodent. He sighed and emptied his mind, allowing the owl's instincts to take over. It was a strange experience, losing one's consciousness while the body is active. The owl quickly swooped down, effortlessly catching its prey. It feasted greedily, devouring the raw flesh. And when it was over, he returned. Day after day he had to repeat the ritual, yet he could never get used to it. To accept naturally that he was forced to hunt to survive. Even now, the thought of what he just did, what his body did, was revolting. To be able to eat real food, to live in civilization, how marvelous it would be. It was best not to think about it. Wishing for what cannot be was pointless, and such thoughts quickly left his mind.
It was time to return to Hyrule, he thought. He had put it off long enough, but his curiosity was too much. He knew why he put those two off, his two best hopes. If neither of them were worthy, the disappointment would be bitter. How much longer would he have to wait if neither of them could handle it? Another whole generation? How would he handle it? Each generation he watched the two families; oftentimes they came so close, yet they always failed. Deep down, he expected it to happen again, for both of them. Such pessimism was natural, and it was hard to begin observing them if they would only fail. But they were also his best hopes, and he had to find out. They had to be judged.
The older of the two was the princess. It was not surprising that the royal family were likely candidates to be chosen to unleash the secret. They were in power for so long, a well loved and respected family. And there was precedence - the great king of his time was the first and only person to effectively wield the power of the goddesses. But his son was also the first to fail, and fail dramatically. It was his loss, his inability to control himself when faced with absolute power, that brought about the loss of that power, and the beginning of the owl's search. And deep down, he worried that the greed of the son was more entwined in the family than the pureness of the father. The current king was a good man, a war hero and well loved, but he was too naive and too trusting to be allowed to open the gates of the Realm. Yet his daughter had the wisdom her father lacked, even at this young age. She could be the one.
The other to be tested came not from the royal family. Two generations back, the owl had discovered a noble and upright man in the ranks of the king's army. He ultimately failed, but impressed the owl greatly. Such power, such wisdom, such courage - his heart seemed perfect. He was the closest to being chosen, for the owl to reveal himself and get him to accept the quest. But caution prevailed, and the owl waited for his son. He, too, became a knight, and fought in the great war of the races. He, too, had a great heart, but was too influenced by the outside world. The war was devastating, and the owl remembered those scary, hectic times. The knight had died in the war, attempting to protect his hometown. But the Gerudo were winning, and the knight's family were in jeopardy. The promising family was almost lost.
The owl remembered that day well. The young mother and her baby child were scared, naturally, attempting to flee the only home they ever knew. But the Gerudo had surrounded the place, and would undoubtedly kill any who tried to escape. She must have known her plight, but she had to try. The owl had scoured the area, hoping for some way to help. There was a path through which the pair might escape, but how would they know? He had to help somehow, and flew down toward them. She saw him fly past her horse, circle a few times and then fly off. It worked; she decided to follow him. Because she thought it was a divine sign or merely had no better plan, he did not know. But he led them out of the town and through the Gerudo lines, and it seemed their escape would work. But an arrow embedded itself deep in her shoulder as she cried out in pain. Poisoned, no doubt; she would die soon. The owl's only thought was for the baby, and who would raise him. There was only way, and he led them to the forest. He had talked to the great Deku Tree before, one of the few creatures even older than himself. The tree understood his plight, and agreed to raise the child as a Kokiri. Perhaps with his wisdom, the child could be molded into the person the owl needed him to be. A hero.
And it was to him that the owl flew to now. It was a great gamble, allowing him to be raised as a Kokiri. But perhaps that was what was needed. How often did outside influences change the people he watched? The girl he had watched, how would she fare without her brothers? How would the royal family act if they didn't need to be leaders? Perhaps living in innocence would save him. Perhaps not becoming cynical, not knowing what he was up against would make him stronger. Or perhaps it would ruin his bloodline. He had to watch him. He had to find out.
He flew past the Gerudo fortress, and noticed their king was not there. His heart sank. He was also tested, so long ago, but only briefly. The owl quickly learned that this rare male Gerudo was too angry, too thirsty for power, too impure to be the one. As such, he was ignored, until a few months back before the owl left Hyrule. He had noticed the thief in Hyrule's library, pouring over the old books. There was no doubt in the owl's mind that he had learned of the sacred power, and was searching for clues of its whereabouts. The owl could do nothing to stop him; he wasn't powerful enough. He could only hope that the thief would fail, but he did not seem like the man was the type to give up. What was there to do? Neither of the two were old enough to become heroes yet, they could not possibly stop him or beat him to the Triforce. How horrible it would be if either of the two would be the one, yet only come of age too late?
And perhaps that was also the owl's fault. In all his time traveling the world searching for a hero, he did not consider the possibility of a villain appearing first. Would he have been less demanding if he had known there was a race? Would not a good person who couldn't handle the full power be better than an evil person? Or would it be worse, as the corrupting influence could appear at any time without warning, like the prince of so long ago? It was this that the owl tried to protect against, but perhaps such a risk was necessary in the face of evil. Yet, there was no guaranteeing this Gerudo thief would find the sacred power. And certainly the princess and the boy were too young, even if they were worthy. Or perhaps not? Perhaps one of them could claim it first? The owl did not know all the answers, and his constant guessing bothered him. So much was riding on him to do the right thing, but he did not know what it was. Should he allow the boy or the princess to proceed, to claim the sacred relic and the power of the goddesses, if the thief started on the same road? How would he know?
My dream may come true. The search may finally be coming to an end. But is it really for the best?
He watched her. She did not know he was there, of course, for he insured his vantage spot was quite hidden. Not that it mattered, she would not notice him anyways. Why am I doing this? he thought. But such thoughts quickly exited his mind. She had to be tested; he had to observe her. For if she passed today, and the numerous other tests that awaited her, the future of the world would be in her hands. And he knew he had to make absolutely sure she was the one.
Besides, he did not set up this test. It was natural, something numerous children her age faced every day. The children, of course, don't see it as a test; they see it as living. The girl undoubtedly did not look forward to her meeting, but she had to do what her mother told her. It was not a difficult task, merely delivering lunch to her two older brothers working in the fields. The two were not fond of farm work, and were not too fond of her either. For she was favored by their parents, and rightly so. She was smarter, stronger willed, more caring, and more charismatic than they would ever hope to be, despite her young age. It was those properties that made them hate her, and it was this hate that scared her. And it was those properties that were the reason he was watching her now, hoping they would shine through.
She handed over the sack to the older brother. Good. Don't back away, don't look nervous. He grabbed it from her with a look of disgust. He spoke, then, and the girl responded, but the words were lost in the wind. It did not matter, he could infer their meaning. He was angry, taking out his anger on his little sister. But she stayed calm, attempting to deflect that anger away from her. She's doing fine. She's handling him. Impressive for such a young girl. It wasn't working, no matter how she tried to calm him. The brother's voice elevated, and the other brother also joined in, but still she remained calm. She took the verbal abuse without flinching, without backing down. She knew how to handle them, he thought as she walked away from the two boys. She knows the limits of their power, and refuses to get upset.
But as she walked out of range, something else appeared. A tear ran from her eye. She tried to hold it back, tried to give the appearance of being strong, but he saw through it. Her brothers might not notice, her family may not notice, she could go through life hiding her weakness from everyone, but he saw it. He knew what was in her thoughts. Why do they do this? "If only they could stop. If only someone could make them stop. If only I could deal with them better. Life would be wonderful then." Thinking how much better the world would be in your control. Not that she thinks that directly, but it's there. Why can't they know it? Why can't they realize how dangerous such thoughts are? They wish power, even in such limited ways, and so cannot have it. At least not the ultimate power. Why can't she accept them and get past her problems? But there was no point in worrying about it now. She had failed, and he had no more use for her. With a slight sigh, he left.
She looked in the sky and saw an owl flying away. Memories stirred in her mind, of seeing an owl often when she was a mere toddler. Perhaps this was the same one? But she put such childish thoughts from her mind. That old owl was probably just a figment of her imagination. Why would an owl spend so much time watching her? Such a silly thing to link these two owls together. Her thoughts soon turned to other matters; the owl quickly forgotten forever.
A few miles away, the owl finally stopped for a rest. Why am I so disappointed? he thought. I should be used to it. Dozens of people failed before her. I did not think she would actually be the one. But he knew why. The endless search had gone on far too long; there was no hero to be found. Countless times he wondered if he was being too harsh, refusing to endorse the hopefuls for too trivial of reasons. Could they not handle it with his advice? And Rauru's as well? Yet, once again, he rejected such thoughts. It was much too important to leave to chance. He had to make absolutely sure the person would have their heart in balance. The risks were too great. But the rejection of this idea came slower, and with less conviction, then it had in the decades before. The appeal of giving up, of simply choosing one and hoping for the best, was slowly gaining on him.
To give up, that was his dream. He relished the day when his job would be over; when his goal was found. Then he could finally live. Or die. Death didn't always have so much appeal, but as time rolled by he began to get sick of this world. And his existence within. To be trapped in an owl's body for centuries was a bitter and tormenting experience, and ending it all would be bliss. But there were none who remained who remembered his time, the potential for great power and the corruptions it brings. He had a promise to fulfill, a job to do. And he was determined to find the right person.
Hunger. It was a moment he always dreaded, yet it had come again. There was no sense in putting it off, and a few moments of scanning the area revealed a suitable rodent. He sighed and emptied his mind, allowing the owl's instincts to take over. It was a strange experience, losing one's consciousness while the body is active. The owl quickly swooped down, effortlessly catching its prey. It feasted greedily, devouring the raw flesh. And when it was over, he returned. Day after day he had to repeat the ritual, yet he could never get used to it. To accept naturally that he was forced to hunt to survive. Even now, the thought of what he just did, what his body did, was revolting. To be able to eat real food, to live in civilization, how marvelous it would be. It was best not to think about it. Wishing for what cannot be was pointless, and such thoughts quickly left his mind.
It was time to return to Hyrule, he thought. He had put it off long enough, but his curiosity was too much. He knew why he put those two off, his two best hopes. If neither of them were worthy, the disappointment would be bitter. How much longer would he have to wait if neither of them could handle it? Another whole generation? How would he handle it? Each generation he watched the two families; oftentimes they came so close, yet they always failed. Deep down, he expected it to happen again, for both of them. Such pessimism was natural, and it was hard to begin observing them if they would only fail. But they were also his best hopes, and he had to find out. They had to be judged.
The older of the two was the princess. It was not surprising that the royal family were likely candidates to be chosen to unleash the secret. They were in power for so long, a well loved and respected family. And there was precedence - the great king of his time was the first and only person to effectively wield the power of the goddesses. But his son was also the first to fail, and fail dramatically. It was his loss, his inability to control himself when faced with absolute power, that brought about the loss of that power, and the beginning of the owl's search. And deep down, he worried that the greed of the son was more entwined in the family than the pureness of the father. The current king was a good man, a war hero and well loved, but he was too naive and too trusting to be allowed to open the gates of the Realm. Yet his daughter had the wisdom her father lacked, even at this young age. She could be the one.
The other to be tested came not from the royal family. Two generations back, the owl had discovered a noble and upright man in the ranks of the king's army. He ultimately failed, but impressed the owl greatly. Such power, such wisdom, such courage - his heart seemed perfect. He was the closest to being chosen, for the owl to reveal himself and get him to accept the quest. But caution prevailed, and the owl waited for his son. He, too, became a knight, and fought in the great war of the races. He, too, had a great heart, but was too influenced by the outside world. The war was devastating, and the owl remembered those scary, hectic times. The knight had died in the war, attempting to protect his hometown. But the Gerudo were winning, and the knight's family were in jeopardy. The promising family was almost lost.
The owl remembered that day well. The young mother and her baby child were scared, naturally, attempting to flee the only home they ever knew. But the Gerudo had surrounded the place, and would undoubtedly kill any who tried to escape. She must have known her plight, but she had to try. The owl had scoured the area, hoping for some way to help. There was a path through which the pair might escape, but how would they know? He had to help somehow, and flew down toward them. She saw him fly past her horse, circle a few times and then fly off. It worked; she decided to follow him. Because she thought it was a divine sign or merely had no better plan, he did not know. But he led them out of the town and through the Gerudo lines, and it seemed their escape would work. But an arrow embedded itself deep in her shoulder as she cried out in pain. Poisoned, no doubt; she would die soon. The owl's only thought was for the baby, and who would raise him. There was only way, and he led them to the forest. He had talked to the great Deku Tree before, one of the few creatures even older than himself. The tree understood his plight, and agreed to raise the child as a Kokiri. Perhaps with his wisdom, the child could be molded into the person the owl needed him to be. A hero.
And it was to him that the owl flew to now. It was a great gamble, allowing him to be raised as a Kokiri. But perhaps that was what was needed. How often did outside influences change the people he watched? The girl he had watched, how would she fare without her brothers? How would the royal family act if they didn't need to be leaders? Perhaps living in innocence would save him. Perhaps not becoming cynical, not knowing what he was up against would make him stronger. Or perhaps it would ruin his bloodline. He had to watch him. He had to find out.
He flew past the Gerudo fortress, and noticed their king was not there. His heart sank. He was also tested, so long ago, but only briefly. The owl quickly learned that this rare male Gerudo was too angry, too thirsty for power, too impure to be the one. As such, he was ignored, until a few months back before the owl left Hyrule. He had noticed the thief in Hyrule's library, pouring over the old books. There was no doubt in the owl's mind that he had learned of the sacred power, and was searching for clues of its whereabouts. The owl could do nothing to stop him; he wasn't powerful enough. He could only hope that the thief would fail, but he did not seem like the man was the type to give up. What was there to do? Neither of the two were old enough to become heroes yet, they could not possibly stop him or beat him to the Triforce. How horrible it would be if either of the two would be the one, yet only come of age too late?
And perhaps that was also the owl's fault. In all his time traveling the world searching for a hero, he did not consider the possibility of a villain appearing first. Would he have been less demanding if he had known there was a race? Would not a good person who couldn't handle the full power be better than an evil person? Or would it be worse, as the corrupting influence could appear at any time without warning, like the prince of so long ago? It was this that the owl tried to protect against, but perhaps such a risk was necessary in the face of evil. Yet, there was no guaranteeing this Gerudo thief would find the sacred power. And certainly the princess and the boy were too young, even if they were worthy. Or perhaps not? Perhaps one of them could claim it first? The owl did not know all the answers, and his constant guessing bothered him. So much was riding on him to do the right thing, but he did not know what it was. Should he allow the boy or the princess to proceed, to claim the sacred relic and the power of the goddesses, if the thief started on the same road? How would he know?
My dream may come true. The search may finally be coming to an end. But is it really for the best?