Chapter 5

"A tournament?" Zelda pulled the curling scroll free from the wall to which it was attached, glancing over the stylised handwriting, the ink still fresh. "In honour of the King's forthcoming visit."

She stepped back a little, rejoining Ruto. She'd sent her handmaiden back to her tavern some time ago, having learnt her lesson from their narrow escape from Thieves Alley and feeling no need to drag Ullyna into any more danger.

All around them, here in the main promenade of the Hub, people were rushing around wrapped in their own little worlds, though it did seem that they now had an extra spring to their steps. Small groups of men, pointing, murmuring and rubbing their chins in thought, crowded around the myriad other scrolls nailed up by the Royal Guards that morning.

"It looks like," Zelda said, "Link has played his hand."

Ruto eyed her cautiously. "I suppose you'll be entering then."

Lips pursed, the Princess nodded. "Of course."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" the Zora asked. "He's obviously expecting it. And, I don't know, is a tournament really your niche?"

Zelda turned to her, eyes thinned. "You forget. I was once Sheik of the Sheikah. A little game like this isn't going to fluster me, I assure you."

Ruto peered at the scroll, then glanced up at her friend. "I don't think harp playing is included in the schedule."

"Very droll," Zelda said, making a face. Her eyes scanned the rest of the parchment. "Register at the Town Hall, it says. Looks like that's our next port of call." She glanced over at the mass of people, a throbbing sea of different colours and faces. "So many…" she whispered, a finger to her lips. "How do we get there?"

A shadow fell across the two friends, a sudden needle of ice pricking their hearts. They turned, blinking as their eyes adjusted to the abrupt loss of light, and found themselves facing a Poe, his tattered hood fluttering in the breeze, his glowing eyes watching them intently.

Zelda glanced at Ruto, then at the newcomer. "Can you help us?" she asked softly.

The lantern in his unseen hand trembled, its wan light smouldering, and the ghostly figure backed off a few feet. Confused, Zelda tried again. "Is there anything the matter?"

Twin specks of scarlet hue blossomed on the darkness that was the Poe's face before it spoke, its voice soft, its words halting. "Help…can…I."

Seeing the frown on the Princess' face, the Poe gave a gurgle of frustration. A flurry of movement followed, the scratch of a quill on a parchment most prominent. A scroll floated from the Poe's hood, then unfurled, revealing the words: I can help you.

Zelda swallowed, not sure how to phrase her next query, but deciding to take the most direct route in the end. "Can't you speak?"

Another burst of motion followed, and the sound of more frantic writing hung in the air. Then, as before, yet another scroll revealed itself: Please forgive me. I express myself better in writing than in speech, a flaw for which I am most ashamed.

Zelda blinked. "Oh."

A quill scraped paper. I can guide you to the Town Hall, avoiding most of the crowds. I wish only to help; that's all I'm ever good for.

Out of the corner of her eye, the Princess saw her friend shrug, a look of boredom plastered on her face. Clearly, Ruto saw no danger. Zelda herself, too, was willing to trust the shy ghost, her heart filling with pity for his condition. Perhaps…perhaps they could both help each other. "I would be honoured," she said, smiling, "if you'd lead the way."

The floating apparition gave a small nod, then headed off, Zelda and Ruto in tow, and entered the twin streams of people – each moving in opposite directions - that filled the main pathway.

"You'll have to reveal yourself," Ruto said; addressing Zelda and deftly dodging a passing Hylian carrying a stained bucket, water sloshing over the rim. "You'll have to sign up with your own name."

Zelda made a dismissive gesture, her eyes fixed on their guide as he bobbed and weaved in, out and over the throng. "It's no matter," she said. "Father should be here by this evening, and I'd have to be show myself then anyway." She pushed through the swarm of people, her nose wrinkling from the smell of human sweat mixed with the charred aroma of cooked meat. "Any news from our bounty hunter?"

Ruto's lip twitched. "He...ah...needs more time," she murmured. "Said the first attempt met with a few difficulties."

"He's got until sundown," the Princess said quietly. "It wouldn't go down too well if there were attacks on Link while my father was present."

They turned left, then right, then left again, the towering height of the Town Hall, all pillars and carefully crafted woodwork, appearing on the horizon like a blot.

"Tell me something, my friend," Zelda said, her tone thoughtful. "Doesn't it bother you that my father handed over your Domain to one of your knights? I mean..." she paused, as though in pain, "I hope you don't hold a grudge or anything."

Ruto winced. "I did at first," she said slowly. "But now I feel I'm happier without the burden of politics on my shoulders." She gave Zelda a meaningful look. "It's very liberating, to be honest."

A finger of dread prodded the Zora's heart. She'd been meaning to bring something up for a while now...and it seemed this was the right time. Clearing her throat and steeling herself, she said, "Princess, I've wondered whether you've..." Her voice trailed away.

Zelda glanced at her. "Whether I've what...?"

Ruto took in a deep breath. "Whether you've actually given any thought to just sitting down with Link and talking out your differences."

"That was the first thing I did when I arrived, you know that." The Princess shook her head. "No...he won't listen to reason."

"Well," Ruto pressed on, "perhaps if the two of you were a little more willing to compromise and, I don't know, focus on things you have in common." Her eyes found Zelda's face once more. "Like a shared past for one."

"He won't remember," Zelda said, her voice sad. "The mad wizard that detonated the memory charm did a lot of damage."

"A charm aimed at you and your father, if I remember," the Zora said. "Until little Link put himself in its path."

The Princess' cheek twitched. "I'm just glad all rogue wizards and witches have been round up now. As they all should - power like that just isn't...right."

So. She didn't want to talk about it. "And the power of this charm...?"

"It was strange," Zelda said. "It only seemed to eliminate selected memories -not everything. But I've heard it still affects him from day to day even now. Just another reason why he shouldn't be in control."

"Must be hard for him," Ruto said, her tone wistful. "Isn't there a cure?"

"A lot of things are hard for him. It must have damaged him to be sent on a quest for the Spiritual Stones at such a tender age, and then to be thrust into a body seven years too old for him, and then brought back to his former age. Perhaps it's little wonder he turned out the way he did. As for a cure," her hand found her ring once more, "I've done some studies. There might be something." Her thumb and forefinger pressed the ring between them. "I just didn't know whether I wanted to risk it."

Raising her eyebrows, Ruto said nothing. Zelda, on the other hand, caught the gesture. "It might cause him more damage, you see," she explained. "Just forget it. The best healers examined him and said there was nothing to be done. It's permanent. I felt it best to just leave him alone and let him live his life from then on."

"And this was just after meeting him again after sending him back to our time, right?"

"Not quite," The Princess' face took on a faraway look. "We spent a short amount of time together. That's how I got this, remember." She gestured at the ring.

"So that would be his last true recollection of you, then?" Ruto asked. "Of you sending him back, I mean."

Zelda frowned. "Yes," she said. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," the Zora went on. "At least you both still have some common experiences."

"It doesn't matter," the Princess replied. "The person he is now isn't the person he was back then."

"Right." Ruto sighed. "This is the only way, then?"

"Indeed."

News had travelled fast, obviously, as upon their arrival the two friends saw that the space leading to the stairs of the Town Hall was now filled with makeshift stalls; the traders and sellers of inexpensive wares having taken root in order to jostle any who had come to sign their name.

Morning's glow made all the merchandise shine all the more brighter, jewels passing through fingers looking like a waterfall of sparkling colours, draped silks looking like a sea of shimmering brightness.

Zelda and Ruto passed through the assembled stalls, trying to make their way to the Hall itself, their Poe companion drifting patiently above. The Princess saw all manner of things, from the mundane to the strange. Dried healing herbs, crinkled and withered, lay displayed on one table; the same herbs used to make red potion. A lantern sat on another stall, burning fiercely but giving off no light. The Princess blinked, her mind not able to wrap itself around the contradiction and starting to throb as a result, then glanced away.

Ruto pulled on her sleeve. "Look."

Zelda looked, and saw that, at the centre of a large crowd of people, there stood a very vision of loveliness. Clad in dark green, fairies encircling her slowly leaving a trail of sparkling light, the Guardian Spirit waited patiently, a smile on her smooth features, her long hair streaming behind her despite the lack of strong wind.

"She's beautiful," Zelda murmured. "A Spirit of Wisdom herself." A sudden thought hooked into her mind. "Come, Ruto. If I present my case to the Guardian, perhaps I'll get some sagely advice in return."

Pushing their way through the gawping crowd, the two friends managed to get to the front, where Zelda, remembering the etiquette taught to her in court, grasped the Spirit's hand, holding tightly. The Princess glanced up, and was met by a face radiating pure kindness and carrying an air of detached serenity. No doubt, Zelda thought to herself, the Spirit's well of wisdom allowed her to live her life without once distressing over the trivialities of life.

"Oh great Guardian Spirit," the Princess whispered. "I have come from afar on a matter that brings immense distress to my heart. I beg you to hear out my entreaty, and to judge in both kindness and wisdom."

Zelda waited as silence fell, blood pumping in her ears. The breeze, cool and smooth, touched her face, the murmur of noise accompanying any large town melting into the background. She remembered the stories she'd been told as a child; stories of the Spirits that would set aright travellers gone astray, of the Spirits who, with only their words, would mend hearts shattered by the travails of life, or would present nuggets of wisdom unravelling even the most complex of conundrums. Here, the Princess felt certain, she would find an answer; here, bathed in the very milk of kindness and wisdom itself.

"Stop snivelling," a disdainful voice shrilled, "and let go of my hand, you great lump of mucus."

The Princess jumped back, startled.

"The amount of times," the Spirit went on, "I've had people grovel in the dirt asking me for advice – it's just getting ridiculous." Her voice grew. "What is wrong with you people? Yes, I glow, yes, I'm a little easy on the eyes, if I do say so myself, but since when does that mean I'm any smarter than any other person in this thrice-cursed city. Though," her voice dropped, "I am starting to believe it myself." She belched. "Excuse me."

Zelda looked at Ruto. Ruto looked at Zelda. They both looked at the woman.

"And you can both stop staring at me right now, you great pair of lemons."

"But," the Zora said, her voice quivering. "We just wanted a bit of wisdom."

The woman flicked her wrist and, out of nowhere, a large tome appeared and landed squarely on Ruto's head. "Go read a book."

Her nose set firmly in the air, the woman glided past then, leaving Zelda to gently pull her friend to her feet. "Their reputation is somewhat exaggerated," she said. "Are you alright?"

The Zora rubbed her head. "I'll be fine," she sniffed. "Aren't you supposed to be the Sage of Wisdom anyway?"

Zelda winced at the challenge she heard in her friend's tone. "It doesn't quite work like that," she murmured. "It's more like… more like I'm the Guardian of Wisdom. To protect it from those that would take it away, or use it for immoral purposes."

Finally reaching the steps, they trotted up, the Poe gesturing for them to follow. Ruto frowned, still pondering Zelda's words. "Wisdom is a tangible thing?"

"Something like that."

They passed through the yawning marble and brass arch that signified the entrance to the building, then found themselves in the lobby, the wooden floor shining with gloss, the sharp tang of varnish overwhelming. A whirlpool of activity surrounded them – gears, pulleys and chains, though unseen from their eyes, still managed to create a din; rumbling and grinding, punctuated by the occasional ping. Carved desks and polished staircases moved seemingly on their own volition, connecting one part of the Hall with another. Intricately designed and working in perfect harmony, Zelda couldn't help but be a little impressed.

Fairies buzzed through the air, twinkling baubles of incandescent light, carrying bundles of scrolls and, with fury laced but still tiny voices, snapping at anyone who didn't dodge out of their way fast enough. Clocks hung on one wall, trimmed gold and ticking away rhythmically. Each one told a different time, a small label underneath explaining which part of Hyrule any one particular clock represented. Lake Hylia said one. The Palace said another. A different one proclaimed to tell the time of The Eyesore.

Ruto let out a low whistle. "Link's certainly expanded his horizons. To think he designed all this without any magic…"

Lips pursed, Zelda shook her head. "It wasn't just him," she said, a touch too defensively. "He gathered the best scholars in Hyrule before he constructed this monstrosity."

"Monstrosity?" Ruto said, her eyebrow cocked. "It's a work of art, Princess. You can't deny that."

Zelda, scowling, was about to let fly with a heated retort when the floor in front of the trio split apart slightly, paused, then opened up completely, a desk rising slowly from the hole. A chair spun around, revealing a suspiciously blonde Hylian female, a wide grin – apparently permanent – spread on her face. "Good morning!" she chimed, her voice all too pleasant. "Our liege, the most wonderful Shadow Lord, welcomes you to Castleton Town Hall." She glanced at all three of them in turn. "How may I help you?"

Zelda struggled hard to bite down the rising sense of disgust she felt. "We're here to sign up for the tournament," she said, her teeth clenched. "If you'd just point us in the right direction…"

The woman's grin seemed to impossibly stretch just a notch. "Certainly!" she said, sweeping her arm with a flourish. "Through here, please."

Looking past the annoyingly grinning female, the Princess saw the entrance to a massive hall, inside of which there stood assembled an ocean of tables weighed down by reams of parchment and manned at each one by a Hylian furiously scribbling away with a quill, their fingers stained black with drenched ink.

Zelda made to move forward, then paused, a sudden thought tickling her heart, and glanced up at the Poe. The ghost, looking very small and frightened, fidgeted in the air, his eyes darting frantically. Zelda saw Ruto staring with a quizzical frown, but ignored her. An idea, watered by hope itself, germinated in the Princess' mind.

"Say," she said, her voice trembling slightly. Her heart was thudding, too; a strange reaction, but she couldn't stop herself from feeling thrilled. Her Poe companion was about to have his life changed – all thanks to her. "Why don't you go into the hall, my friend?" she said, syrupy sweet. "I'll give you all the details…you'll just have to pass them on to the people inside. You can even write it all down if you want."

The spirit looked positively aghast, though it was hard to tell from the shadow enshrouding his face. He scrawled away desperately: No, I can't.

Zelda smiled. "Yes, you can," she cooed. "Just try. You'll be helping us a lot."

A trembling scroll unfurled. You don't understand. Please. I'm not like that…I stumble over my words and I'll make a fool of myself. Just let me be!

Zelda's heart tugged. "I'm sure if you'd let yourself take the first step, it'll be a lot easier than you think." The poor soul. All he needed was a little push. "Go on. Just go ahead…and do it. It's so easy…I know you can do it."

The Poe's eyes flared suddenly, a scroll appearing in thin air: NO, I CAN'T.

Before their very eyes the parchment scrunched itself into a ball, then flew straight into Zelda's shocked face. The Poe gave them one last look of heated resentment, then darted away.

The Princess stood there, open-mouthed, her face still stinging. What had gone wrong? She felt Ruto touch her elbow. "At least," the Zora said, a strange look on her face – was it pity? Or satisfaction? "At least it wasn't a book, hey?"

Pulling away with a jerk, the Princess strode into the next room, her face set. A knot of humiliation and rage left a blister on her heart, and Zelda was determined to do at least something right today. She came to a halt in front of one of the tables and slammed a palm down hard, making the both the pile of scrolls and the attendant himself jump.

"I'd like to sign up for the Shadow Lord's tournament, please," she said.

The attendant glanced at her, his eyes glazed over with fatigue, and sniffed dismissively, waving away the cloud of dust that had puffed slowly into the air from Zelda's gesture. He pulled a parchment closer and tapped his fingers against his quill, dripping it briefly in a nearby inkwell. "Name?"

The Princess glanced around the room before she spoke. "Zelda," she said, her voice raised. A number of people looked up. Conversations died away. She glanced down at the attendant, noted his gaping expression with a good deal of satisfaction, and gave a thin smile. "Princess Zelda Harkinian."