The Kindred Chapter 8: Of Milk and Music, a legend of zelda fanfic

The Kindred

Chapter VIII: Of Milk and Music

Okay, here's the well-overdue chapter VIII. Not much to say, but I have to add this disclaimer from now on:

Expect to see that a lot in the future, since a guy from ff.net e-mailed me about it. Yeesh. The last thing I need is to get deleted for copyright infringement. If you are fan-fictioning something, I suggest you give the proper dues as well. Apparently they're being more strict on that lately, or something.

Pike only tripped eight times on the walk back to the castle. It was a learning experience for Kitana and Skim, who had only been as far as the gates. The guard seemed determined not to let them see princess Zelda, but after Rej calmly explained for the third time their actual business, he offered to let them in for a small bribe. The enraged poe smashed the fool over the head, filched his key ring, and put on his best butler impression as they entered.

Numerous guards patrolled the grounds, none of whom seemed to take notice of them, or didn't care if they had. Eventually the party came to the moat and main entrance, where Pike finally remembered to flash his identification badge to the guard. He insisted on going back to the unconscious guard and showing him the badge as well, but they attempted to convince the stubborn guard that unconscious people can't see. The argument rapidly deteriorated into the question of tofu cucco meat tasting like real cucco meat or not. They stood in the yawning doorway arguing until the lantern-ghost threw up his gloves and proclaimed that it tastes real if you use real cucco stock to cook it in.

Pike led them upstairs to a small office with shattered glass around the outside and a broken window panel, bearing part of an important looking title. The weary guard sat the little group down and told them to wait while he fetched the commander. There were several good-sized dents in the door, Skim observed after the guard had left, and one was shaped unmistakably like a griffon. Kitana nudged him suddenly, sticking a thumb at the cluttered desk.

"What's all this about?"

"Dunno," the scribe's assistant said, glancing around at the surrounding walls for a clue. "I'm supposed to researching a new species of something, I suppose. Wonder what we're studying…" his voice trailed off as he searched the room for hints.

"Well if anybody asks, I'm just your guard."

Skim only nodded absently in response, and she couldn't even tell if he was listening. They waited for a few minutes, letting the warmth and smells of salty stew from the kitchen waft up through miniscule cracks in the stone floor. Finally, the apprentice scribe leapt up from his uncomfortable wooden swivel chair and headed for the door, only to crash headlong into the stack of folders Pike carried. As if luck was taunting them, the apprentice's pouch opened up in mid-flight, spewing scribe reports everywhere and only increasing the mess.

Repeating a rapid apology, Skim bent down and gathered up the reports, placing them back in his pouch and sitting down before the commander entered.

"Who in the holy name of Tektite spit is that?" the bald man asked automatically as he walked inside, pointing to Kitana but looking at Pike.

"She's a farmer-" the 'archer' shot Skim a dirty look, cutting him off. "Guard."

"She's a what guard?"

"A former guard, sir," Rej interrupted. The apprentice cast him a thankful glance and turned back to the bristling commander.

"My briefing?"

"Right. We're sorry to have called you this far and blah blah blah, so sorry for your troubles, and so on. Two good reasons. First of all, since you're going to be studying dodongo breeding patterns, you'll need this," the commander reached under his desk and tossed piece after piece of armor at the scribe, until the apprentice had assembled a nice pile of shiny, new, hardened, steel-reinforced, iron-studded leather armor.

"Why not metal?" the assistant asked.

"Metal heats up quickly, you would melt," Rej explained.

"Ah. Melting is certainly not one of the mission objectives, I take it?"

"Not until you finish a full report of all dodongo types on Death Mountain," the tall bald man leaned back in his swivel chair in an attempt to look nonchalant, almost fell over backwards, and leaned forward again. "We need all the information we can get if these new things turn out to be hostile."

"Right. When do we leave?"

"Now. Rej, Pike, and the archer will guard you with their lives."

"Pike's coming?"

"That's the second reason we called you out. The blithering fool would get lost while still on the drawbridge, but he's handy with a sword and he almost seems to possess near-average intelligence at some things. Your first extraction point is the Lon Lon Milk Factory. The lizafos army to the north already has scouts and wolfos in Hyrule Field, so we asked Kalon to let you hole up there tonight. You should be able to make it there by nightfall, if you hurry, and we may be able to send you additional reinforcements when you arrive."

"More? You'd think we were fighting an army," Rej snorted (or as close to snorting as is possible for a poe, so it came out as the sound a wild boar with a sore throat makes).

"If the dodongos turn hostile on us, you might be."

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The small group stood at the open gates of the castle town, attempting to evenly distribute the weight. Rej was having trouble shouldering any of the military-issue backpacks, (he didn't have shoulders) and the scribe's assistant was virtually useless in the hard leather armor. He ended up giving the cuirass and one shoulder guard to Kitana, as the bulky leather had a support strap over his wound. She was a bit more of a fighter than Skim, and had a certain amount of experience in donning armor and the like.

Soon, the motley had finished their preparations -though Pike was still not completely aware of what they were setting out to do- and Kit had loaded her quiver with an assortment of magically enchanted arrows. Skim's portion of the stalchild loot had been lost to a pickpocket on the way to lunch, who quickly made off into the crowd. The scribe's assistant hollered after him, calling the guards, but the child had already disappeared into the masses of people by the time an officer arrived.

The apprentice sighed heavily remembering the loss of hard-earned rupees, and Kitana laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. The party was about to head out the towering stone gate when a town guard trotted up beside Skim, dangling a small struggling boy by the back of his collar. "You're the one this little thief pick pocketed earlier, right? Is this him?"

Skim recognized the child immediately, from the mop of red hair to the pair of ragged burlap pants that were two sizes too large, and nodded in agreement. Swearing fluently in another language as he found his attempts to obtain freedom in vain, the young boy waved his arms violently as far above his head as he could, trying in earnest to attack the guard's steel-plated arm. Upon noticing the thief's rounded ears for apparently the first time, the guard shrugged and tossed the scoundrel at the group's feet. "Must be a refugee from Volcania. What'll you do with the little waif?"

Volcania, not far to the north, was currently plunged headlong into a war with the lizafos army. Refugees were not an uncommon sight in Hyrule Town, but most did not stay for long, instead preferring to move east to Termina. There was an abundance of rumors that stated the lizafos planned to attack Hyrule next.

"I just want back the money he stole," Skim grumbled irately. The guard tossed a small object to the apprentice, who barely managed to catch it before it smacked him in the nose.

"I' is…" the Volcanian boy began, but stumbled over the next unknown word. The native language in Volcania is vastly different than the one used in Hyrule and Termina. Most natives of the northern realm had a somewhat ridiculous sounding accent when speaking Hylian, which had become known as 'Nicking', after a somewhat famous Volcanian ship's captain who had particular difficulty with the secondary language.

"Manauticus," the child looked expectantly up at Rej.

"Magical," the lantern-ghost translated, though he sounded more than a little skeptical.

"Maj'kul," the boy repeated, nodding approvingly. Skim cast a confused look at the poe, who winked one reddish green eye at him. Gazing down at the object in his hands, the apprentice scratched his head and looked at the child.

"You spent all twenty-five rupees on this?"

"Yup. You kin' 'ave it, ah guess."

"But I don't want i-"

"Quit whining," reprimanded the impatient poe. "Just take him with us and leave him at the ranch to work it off, and we'll go from there. We need to leave now."

The scribe's assistant released a tired sigh, pocketing the small gray ocarina and following his companions out the gates.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

"Eire," a deep, rumbling voice echoed throughout a deep underground cavern, causing a small shape to skitter close to the larger one. Small pebbles tumbled from upper ledges at the vibrations caused by the sound, and the air was filled with the rank odor of dead Tektite meat.

"Y-yes, your greatness?"

"Take a half-dozen scouts and explore the perimeter, all the way to the river bridge."

"Of c-course, your majesty. When shall we leave?"

"As soon as you can. Avoid Hylian sight, if possible."

"As you w-wish, Maw."

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The sun was already setting behind the horizon as five figures with growing shadows shuffled under the entry arch of the Lon Lon Milk Factory, a revolution in steel working and production of the finest and only milk product in all of Hyrule. The factory was relatively quiet, save for the sounds of pumping and churning pistons from a large steel building just right of the entry path. To the left was a quaint little house and cucco coop, a blatant contrast to the metallic machinery just across the narrow dirt road. Faint clucking noises emanated from the small cottage nearby, and the party approached the closed wooden door.

Pushing the portal inwards with a quiet creak, Skim poked his head inside and looked around. The coop and living area combination was quiet, the cuccos nestled comfortably in their hay. The scribe's assistant, looking up, noticed an old stairway leading to another door, which was leaning open. The apprentice made a complicated series of hand signals to Rej, both being trained in the pre-requisite military messaging techniques, and the poe translated the command in perfectly normal speech to Kitana –which somewhat depleted from the usefulness of the signaling-. "You three stay here, I'll check upstairs." Skim managed –barely- to make it up the creaking steps without waking any of the anxious cuccos, though some were awake and regarded him with wary, beady eyes. Upon the door was emblazoned in red paint: Employee Only.

Skim was not about to enter a room that was for the employee only, so he politely and quietly knocked on the portal and waited for a response. A man dressed in a nightgown with a floppy cap (the kind with a fuzzy ball attached to the end) answered, looking rather beleaguered and drowsy. "Oh, sorry," the apprentice muttered. "Did I wake you?"

"No, no, come on in. Bring your friends."

The scribe's assistant shot the rest a quick thumbs-up, and upon entering the rest of the group followed with their captive in tow. Pike had insisted on tying the young to his ankle with a cord, so that whenever he jerked his foot the boy would have to hurry. Eventually the prisoner found out this worked both ways, and would often stop in the middle of the road, sending his captor face-first onto the ground. The guard soon moved the cord around his waist.

"I've laid out some sleeping rolls here, but two of you will have to spend the night in the barn. It's just outside, see there?" pointing out the window, the man turned back to the groups. He seemed to remember something important, for he gasped and slapped his forehead, but upon being inquired about it shook his head and smiled.

"I'll take the barn," Skim offered, "with the prisoner."

The Volcanian boy glanced up at him, sighed in resignation as his chances for escape slipped away. Trapped in a barn with a grumpy scribe's assistant, he thought in his own language. The rest shrugged and made their weary ways to the respective bunks. Kalon nodded and handed Skim the barn's key before stumbling off to his own quarters. The scribe's assistant tugged on the lead tied to the boy's waist, bringing him down the stairs and across the little road to the barn. Hulking cows with mottled brown spots stood staring at the pair, or quietly chewed their cud. One mooed softly at Skim, who politely returned the greeting.

The assistant tied the leather lead around a wooden support beam, reinforced it with iron chains. No way that little hooligan is getting out of this one, he thought, and locked the door. The pickpocket seemed to agree by the look of obvious hopelessness plastered on his round face. Skim settled down into the hay of an unused stall and removed the small gray ocarina, examined the texture and shape. He had seen people from Termina hawking them at the Hyrule Town marketplace, and his father had even been foolish enough to buy one once. Good old da', he thought, staring at the intricate holes of the wooden instrument. What was that song he played during rainy days? How did that go…

The apprentice put the ocarina to his lips, blowing into it. A soft, sour note wavered out, causing the cow in the adjacent stall to perk up its ears and look blearily at him. The bovine face reminded him for all the world of the thick guard they had begun traveling with, from the brown eyes to the dopey stare. Skim released a chuckle while the instrument was still pressed to his mouth, causing a series of rapid notes to burst forth. The assistant could swear the cow rolled its eyes as it looked back to its hay.

Finally, after a few minutes of quiet practice, Skim managed to bring back the old melody. Two low beats, the second a bit higher than the first. Then an even higher beat. Repeat once. A very high, long, warbling note, followed by a rapid succession of up-and-down beats. He worked out the rest of the song by trial and error, until he could make it through without ruining the ears of the cow next to him. The Volcanian boy looked up after the last run, nodded approvingly. "No' bad, bu' ya' need tah 'ring the las' note down ah bi'."

The apprentice stared at him for a while, attempting to decipher the complicated string of gibberish. After he broke the code and applied it to the proper letters, Skim followed the boy's advice by lowering the final note. Almost immediately, there was a soft patter on the roof. A few seconds of raps on the metal plating overhead, and then silence. The assistant looked out the window to see the surrounding ground just barely wet by a few drops of rain, then shrugged and dismissed it as a light shower. Didn't see many clouds in the sky today, though, he thought, and drifted off to sleep.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The next morning, the group met in the large chicken coop of the Lon Lon Milk Factory. The cuccos were nestled quietly into the hay and more or less ignored the party of hungry, sleepy Hylians. The prisoner remained tied to the support beam in the barn.

"How'd you guys sleep?" the apprentice asked after completing a huge yawn.

"Terrible. Some blithering imbecile with an ocarina, who obviously hadn't played in his life, kept trying to play the same Nayru-forsaken song over and over. I was ready to strangle the fool," Kitana grumbled as she wiped collected residue from her eyes.

"They weren't too horrible near the end, though," Rej said as he stuck a finger into his lantern, got burned by the fireball, and took his finger out, glaring at the offending light.

"Oh, I, um… I didn't hear them," Skim laughed nervously.

"Figures. You sleep like a baby," Kitana grumped. The assistant blushed, but it wasn't all from the baby comment. "Let's get going, shall we?"

"What do you propose we do with our prisoner?" the lantern-ghost asked.

"Don't know, leave him here to work for Kalon? He'll escape eventually, I suppose. It should keep him out of trouble for a little while, at least," the scribe's apprentice offered.

"Sounds good," Kalon's voice came from the top of the stairs of the chicken coop. He was still clad in pajamas and night cap, and Skim found it slightly difficult to stop himself from bursting out into raucous laughter at the sight of the floppy hat. "When will you all be leaving?"

"Anxious to get rid of us, eh?" Rej's eyes and lantern became a sneering acid green. "We can get out of here as soon as you feed these accursed Hylians."

(Fog: And that's it for chapter VIII! w00t. Not much to say, cept'… nothing, actually. Oh, kudos to Snowsilver for letting me use Volcanians, which are coincidentally tm-ed by her. And yes, I asked permission, so get yer damn lawyers off me. 8D Out.)