To find myself
Standing in the shadows
Of all I have created
Order of the Broken Blade
Chapter One
He was still licking his fingers from the bun when he heard the sweet sounds of a harp tuning. He hurried towards the sound. A harpist was a rare sight, the instrument's lore having been mostly lost during the last war with the Outer Kingdoms, when the Queen's grandfather had ruled.
Gathered in the town center were noble and common alike, forgetting their rank for a time to stand and listen to the fair young harpist with deep black hair, so dark it could have been thought blue. She sat perched lightly on a carved tree stump that someone had brought out and set for her, for surely she could not have moved it with a stature as slight as hers. The harp lay across her lap as she tuned it, glancing from time to time into the wagon she herself had emerged from a time ago. Always she would look back with a bit of a smile on her face as if a small joke was passing between herself and whoever occupied the wagon yet.
Finally the harp was tuned to her standards and she began to play a melody so sad, so deep that he felt he might drown in the feeling of hopelessness. He heard a few of the women around him begin to weep, so sad was the tune.
It was one he knew well, and yet could not have told any who asked where he might have learned it. Perhaps it was like many of his memories, locked away in another time.
For he was the Hero of Time. The hero of another time, where the prince of the Gerudo theives, Ganondorf, had ruled so maliciously over the kingdom of Hyrule. The king dead and the princess hiding, waiting for his return, he himself had been locked away for many years in the Sacred Realm. He had been ten when he'd been sealed, and seventeen upon exit. Even when the princess had sent him back to regain those lost years, he was no child. He had spent those years very alone.
Listening to the harpist play was something he enjoyed, though it thoroughly saddened him. For reasons he couldn't explain, the plain wooden ocarina at his belt seemed to grow heavier with each note, like it wished him to whisk it from it's perch and join the melody with a hopeful tune.
The desire did not vanish when the second of the party joined the harpist. She was fiery, a term he could not explain the meaning behind except that she reminded him of a fire with flames reaching towards the blackened night and dazzling any who dared look too long. Her hair was bright fire red and gathered and bound high into a ponytail. Her body spun and moved in a dance that seemed to ensnare any who watched with it's liquid motions and rapid repetitions. Her costume was made of dazzling yellows, oranges, and flame reds. It fight her snugly in the bodice, cut daringly to allow much of her lush tanned skin show through. The skirts were many, and flung outward with her spins, showing much of her long legs. Her feet were, themselves, were clasped into a pair of tan leather sandels that criss-crossed their way up her legs to her knees.
She was strikingly beautiful, as was her harpist companion. He found himself entranced, and this shocked him to reality when her realized it. He looked sharply up, wondering if they were witches come to enchant them, but found that the harpist was looking at him with a reassuring smile. He felt at peace; he trusted her for reasons he couldn't fathom.
Her eyes were so deep, a calming sky blue that he felt he could fly in forever, free. This thought didn't startle him, it only eased his worries and allowed the tune carry him away.
The saddened tune had faded soon after the dancer had appeared, pulling him from his deepest depressions and into a more hopeful song that promised that perhaps this darkest day could see sunlight again.
When he thought that the song could get no deeper, for it was already threatening to pull him under and drag him away in it's current, a new sound joined the harp, an ocarina. He was a bit startled, and his eyes were immediately drawn to his own. But no, it was safely tucked there as he always kept it. It was not his instrument that had joined the harp, rising and falling in crescendo, a unison that neither seemed able or willing to destroy.
He searched for the new player, and found her. His breath could in his throat when her saw her. Intent on her task, her eyes were half closed and her head was tilted down, mouth cupped gently around the mouthpiece of the ocarina. Feathery bangs of a earthy brown covered her forehead and fell across her eyes, while a mane of the same color cloaked her back, falling almost to her waist in it's unloosened state.
Her boots were plain brown leather, stretching to halfway up her calf in height. Her dress itself was simple in cut and dyed a deep forest green. It fell to just above her knee. Over the dress was a sleeveless robe of a lighter green that was cut to fit her curves in a way that flattered her.
The song that the ocarina turned out was one that he felt touched him more deeply than any he'd heard before. The notes were simple, a repeated three, that he felt he recognized like he'd been playing them since he was a child.
But as the song ended, the enchantment did as well. He regained some sense, and used this to applaud with great enthusiasm. The ocarina player and her companions bowed in turn and smiled at the uproaring approval. They seemed surprised at the reaction, at least mildly.
The harp player turned and looked straight at him and nodded at him. He knew she was calling him forward. He was a step there, before he realized that perhaps he was mistaken. But as the crowd died down and only the three remained to clean up the stage, now littered with flowers and rupees for the amazing performers.
He stood silently for a moment as the three paid him little mind. Then the harp player turned to him. "You are a hard man to find, good sir. You'll forgive me if I ask you why you haven't answered our letters?" she asked, her tone good hearted and her face locked in a teasing smile.
He was confused. He had received no letters, surely none from a trio of beautiful performers. "I beg your deepest pardons, miladies, but I know naught of any letters." he told them carefully. He studied the eyes of each in turn, a bit startled to see the reactions of each.
The harpist herself was shocked, but masking it quite clearly behind her ordered exterior. She suddenly seemed very interested in the smallest of wrinkles in her long, deep blue skirt.
The dancer was angry at the leasts. Her face was a bit contorted, though that did nothing for her beauty, and her fist was met with the opposing palm at least twice as she was lost in thought.
The ocarina player, he believed, seemed less worried than the other two. She glanced up at him, but rapidly averted her gaze elsewhere when he tried to meet her eyes.
"If I might ask, who are you?" he began. "Why have you been trying to contact me?"
The dancer looked up at him as if he suddenly had an extra head and he'd just asked if he could sing a duet at their next show. She opened her mouth to speak, but the harpist spoke up first.
"This is neither the time or place to discuss this, my friends. Much troubles me from your words, good man, and I must see to the reason your letters were not delivered with utmost speed and delicacy." she spoke. "My sisters will tell you what they can." she added, glancing at the dancer who seemed to understand the look. "And I will return to you with all available haste. Good day, sir."
And the harpist was gone, leaving the other two to speak with him. The fiery dancer glanced around the market, still very full of merchants and people, then looked at him again. "Will you help us pack our wagon while you wait? I'm afraid I can tell you very little until my sister returns with what she may learn, but I will answer what questions I can."
He looked at her for a long moment before he agreed. Helping to lift and pack was easy work for him, one who'd trained for the worst as a child, and he kept idle chatter with the dancer.
"Can you tell me your names at least? For I would have to call you something of my own inventions should you not, and I think you may find them unflattering." he spoke. The dancer smiled slyly.
"I am tempted now not to tell you, for curiosity is my undoing sin." she laughed. "But I will tell you that I am called Din Flamedancer and this is my sister, Farore Leafsong." Din explained. Farore barely glanced up at this, intent on the task of wrapping her ocarina carefully and placing it in a case.
"Such names." he laughed. "I am called Link, should you not know that already. Link Ravenclaw." Din nodded.
"I had known you, good sir. I know many of your deeds. To speak of them would startle you, I'm sure, for none who now live, save a few, who know of these." Din spoke forbodingly. Link shuddered without meaning to as he turned to face her.
"What do you mean, Flamedancer?" he spoke in low voice, suddenly very aware that he was poorly armed with only a dagger of much use and his ocarina that could do nothing save he knock someone in the head with it and risk smashing it. His deep eyes searched her light brandy ones, but found no malice intended for him there, only a teasing joy at how he'd reacted to her words. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
She didn't answer him, only turned with a certain grace and moved away to see to the farthest part of the stage. Link felt himself relax unconsciously.
"Pay Din no mind, Hero. She only tests your patience, as she does with all who meet her. She has often pushed too far and found herself in a spot of trouble or two." Link glanced to see that Farore had turned to him, her delicately wrapped ocarina in one hand and the other resting gently on the wooden side of the wagon.
He forced a smile to reassure her that Din had not worried him more than she had, and perhaps to assure himself that she hadn't as well. "Fear not, good maiden, your sister's antics are more than welcomed. It is long since I've had a good laugh at my own expense." he explained to her.
Farore smiled politely and turned back to the boxes sitting just inside the wagon. Link joined her. "My sister should return soon, when all shall be explained, I assure you. Nayru is not like Din in this. She never lets a task set undone or a person left in question."
"Ah, but she left me this very hour with more than my share of questions, good maiden. Do you speak falsely?" he teased. Farore however did not smile.
"This time was unavoidable, Hero. Naryu fears for the safety of the monarch, for why else would she not deliver our messages to you?" Farore explained, either not catching his teasing tone or not finding it funny.
"The Queen Zelda? I have spoke naught with her for many years, since I last visited Termina. We have taken to our own ways, I fear, but it was bound to happen. She is royalty, and I am common born. Who could possibly expect us to stay close friends?" Link had to say, thinking back of the last time he'd spoke to Zelda, when he'd returned the Ocarina of Time to her after his journey. She'd begun to grow distant, even then.
Farore studied him closely. "Do you really believe that, Hero? That two so closely linked as the Master Sage and the Hero of Time could be torn apart by something like social status? Have you taken mad?" she asked him, voice rising slightly. She stared at him in disbelief and would have sworn that a fine sheen of water filled her eyes.
He thought for a moment, but decided to say nothing. He was too confused to understand this without explanation from the third sister. He just knew that he was suddenly growing more frustrated and worried with each passing moment, each drawn breath.