A/N: Okay, is this quick enough for you? It might do well to remind you to look for the different elements in the characters. Anni is comprised of many different characters- not just Malon, but also traces of the Shiekan Impa and even Anju, the rather distracted worker at the Stock Pot Inn, with the grandmother that tells long tales of ages past… Sound familiar ? The Majora's Mask element will become much more evident in this chapter. Enjoy!
Link and I were laughing. The rest of the night had been spent sparring with the dueling rakes in the fields, going through the rules until both our heads felt numb. We had trekked back afterwards, an old scarecrow accidentally speared through on the rake slung over Link's shoulder; talking, but not making sense of what we were saying, as if we had just been to a festive, happy place where nothing had meaning at all. Of course, we both knew we shouldn't distract from the truth- our eyes were hard under the tears of mirth, our glances long, our silences short, but many. The vast prairie land of L & L Ranch cradled us in her warm, heathery grasp and we couldn't help but feel we were being watched. Whether the deities had good intentions, or evil ones, I couldn't be sure. Who knew with the Chichimara loose among us?
But, nonetheless, we were laughing. Perhaps we were nervous, or maybe just relieved; after all, we were just children…
Neither of us wanted to go back up to bed when we returned to the Spilled Goblet, so I brought out some milk and cookies and Granny Smith apple slices. We chose the tallest chairs in the restaurant, at a table framed by a wide, pale moonlit window with deep textured curtains that cascaded into the darkness of night.
"Tetra's gonna pick on both of us in the morning," Link said, smiling, his upper lip covered in milk.
My fingertips stroked the side of my mug contemplatively. Smiling softly, I looked at him bemusedly through my eyelashes, bringing a tart apple slice to my lips. "I suppose so." Taking a precious nibble, I closed my eyes as the cool, sweet juice spread over my tongue.
Link held one up as if he were examining it, then crammed the whole thing into his mouth. He chewed for a moment, swallowed, and then grinned lopsidedly. "These are good."
"Aren't they, though?" I laughed.
He picked up another one. "They say that the apples from Hyrule were the best- Do you think so?"
"I don't know- Can they get better than these?"
"I guess not." He took a bite from his next slice and swiveled around on his tall chair until he was looking up and out of the window. "It's nice to think about though."
"What are you guys planning to do after you- hem – get your sword back?"
Link took another bite and chewed. "Explore. See places. Found a city. That sort of thing, I suppose." He gulped down the rest of the apple. "What's beyond those mountains, anyway?" He pointed to a formidable- looking range, silhouetted against the deep, silky night sky.
"Y'mean the Jags? No one really knows. But it must be either really good, or really bad, since no one ever comes back when they venture there."
"Really? Sounds like fun."
I laughed. "You have such a fine way of amusing yourself."
And here we were, laughing endlessly again, covering up the anxieties that lay unspoken within us.
I woke to the hard nudging of a staff on my shoulder, along with the spicy tang of Saigon's perfume. "Wake up, Anni. We need you in the kitchen. Link and Medli have tried to cover for you all morning and they need help."
I smiled before I opened my eyes. I had curled up on the seat of the wide window, hidden completely from customer eyes- but not from Saigon. The sun streaming down on me was a bright, cheery gold, catching in the silk of my white nightgown so that I seemed positively angelic. Sleepily, I cast a glance past Saigon, and saw Link carrying an ample breakfast to a lone, giggling couple in the bar hall. He smiled quickly at me, placed a foot wrong, and half-fell into the hallway. "Get dressed, Anni." Saigon said, giving me another poke. I got up and obeyed, the scarce morning customers gawking at me as I hurried toward my room.
My shirt halfway on, I slid down the banister, nearly crashing into My'chel at the bottom. "Mornin' Mikey!" I grinned, pulling my second sleeve on.
"Mornin' Anni," he called gruffly after me. "Don't get yourself into trouble, y'hear me?"
"I won't!
I slid into the kitchen on the varnished floor, startling Medli so much that she almost threw a spoon into the oatmeal. "Well, hello!" she said, feeling around for a towel. I grabbed the spoon and took up the stirring, reaching into the cabinet and finding the nutmeg.
"Hey, Med, what kind is this s'posed to be?"
"Uh…" She popped up forlornly at my side.
"Two bowls cinnamon apple, a maple, and a peach," said Link, walking in and setting a tray back onto the pile by the door. He slouched against the frame. "Holy Din Anni, when do we get breakfast? I'm starving!"
I smiled distractedly into the oatmeal. "Link, I think you're always starving."
"True…"
"Medli, get some peaches from the cellar. And Link, find me some sugar and a pint of cream." There was no need for directions; Medli disappeared deeper into the kitchen, and Link dug around in the cupboards beneath me. I shifted a leg behind me to give him room. As you have figured out, the Spilled Goblet was not the most organized place in the world; only Saigon could find everything.
Even so, I was in heaven here, with the stove basking in the varied light beneath the trees beyond the window, the heavy scents of smoke and cinnamon and frying eggs hanging in the air like the elegant robes of a merchant, the hustle and bustle of bodies in the kitchen, and sounds of clinking glass and things on the cutting board. When I cooked, it was as if my hands were moved by some sort of divine force, improvising recipes superbly for daily specials, executing the older, familiar tasks completely from memory. Link watched in awe as I made a soup for the day, with bouillon and hot sauce and carrots and rice- the kind of soup in which you can't identify a single thing in your spoon; you only know that it's hot and steamy and good.
I spooned out a bit of the savory red liquid and sniffed it experimentally. I turned and offered the spoon to Link. "Taste it," I told him. He took a sip, moved it back and forth a bit in his mouth.
"Salt," he said.
"Garlic salt," I corrected him, after taking a sip myself. I reached to the side and tossed some in.
Saigon wheeled up. "Try some of this," she said, thrusting a small jar filled with a red powder with iridescent blue traces at me. I peered into it, a little worried.
"What is it, exactly?"
Sai-Sai giggled like a little girl, refusing to tell. "Not too much, now."
Reluctantly, I tapped a little bit in, watching the steam change pinkish. I stirred, and then offered the spoon to Link again. I had to go to school, and no way was I going with frog's feet or an anteater nose. Link had a day to get over it, if anything were to happen. Link didn't seem too worried, though.
He took a sip, sloshed it around a bit and swallowed. As he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, I noticed that steam was coming out of his ears. His eyes widened, impressed. "Man, Saigon, what is this stuff? It's great!" I raised a finger and was about to point out that tongues of fire were appearing in his mouth, but the magic wore off before I could manage a word.
"Saigon, what did you do?" I said. She smiled at us.
With a laugh like a piano scale, she explained, "Medli gave me a couple of dragon scales- she has quite a collection, you know. You mix it with a little salamander hide, and what do get?"
"Spicy," said Link.
"Maybe you should put a little more in," Saigon said, wheeling away, and winking.
"And burn the place down? I think not," I called after her. Link laughed at my exasperated expression.
When I had finished, I still had plenty of time to spare, so I took the liberty of taking some bacon and egg sandwiches up to the library, Link following me as if we were cuffed together. Tetra sat, her knees clutched to her chest, in the corner of a couch, shivering, her eyes wide and her face pale. Saigon had taken the lift and was shuffling through papers in the back somewhere.
Link plunked down beside her, grabbing a sandwich.
"What's the problem, Tetra?" He said, his mouth full of egg. "The pirates go out for grog again?"
"No." Her face was blank, as if she was afraid, but it might've very well been that she was sick. Link swallowed and was about to take another bite, when he looked back at her again.
"Really? Whatstha' matter?" He wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. "You're not yourself today, Tetra."
"It's… It's nothing. A bad dream." She looked down and tried to smile.
There was a rapping at the window. I leapt to it before anyone else could and flung it open, and a bird the size of an eagle, scarlet and gold, flew through and lit on my wrist, clacking its beak and complaining about having to do chores all the time. He wasn't heavy, really; maybe two pounds at the most.
"Hiya, Monty," I said, digging around in my pocket and pulling out the chocolate-covered cherry I'd stashed there. Monty was a phoenix, and that's what phoenixes love most.
He made a lovely crooning in his throat and dropped a parchment scroll into my hand. "Oh, Anni, you shouldn't have!" Readily, he snatched the cherry from my hand and glided back to perch on the windowsill to peck at it. I unrolled the scroll.
"Just as I thought," I murmured.
"Well?" said Link. "What does it say?"
I shuffled with the paper a bit, ran it back and forth a bit on my knee to straighten it out, and read the first sheet;
"Dear Patrons and/or Participants,
We have received your applications, and thank you for your decision to pitch in to make this proud event, The Tournament, possible. The set date is this coming Saturday, the Footraces starting precisely at nine thirty, the Youth Fencing at noon, the Adult Fencing at three o'clock, and the Boat Race at six o'clock. Please be sure all clocks are still keeping time and following the Moon; those who are late for their events will be disqualified.
No Dilly-Dallying!
Mayor Sunt K'eng'gomen Dotour VIII"
"That Dotour, he's as rank as ever, what with all the toadstool cigars he smokes," remarked Monty, clacking a beak full of cherry. He had been a gift from my mother to the mayor, and the poor phoenix disliked his master greatly. "Go on, girl! Read the other ones, too. I haven't got all day, you know." He pointed a talon at me, as if he hadn't interrupted at all.
"Yes, Master," I replied sarcastically. I took and read the second sheet:
"A judging application has been successfully sent in for Miss Malon Aniku of this household. She is to be at the Youth Fencing Competition no later than twelve o'clock at ground number one." This bit was written in fine calligraphy, but the bottom was scrawled; "We have also received a rather confusing case supposedly from your household. There seems more than one Mr. Link in this town at the time. Fortunately for you, we have sent them both a schedule sheet, one of which along with this one; everyone should be allowed to participate if they signed up.
Please get this sorted out, dear!
Madame Rosa Aroma, Secretary."
Monty clacked his beak disapprovingly. "Poor Madame Aroma, working for such a clod. He is convinced that she is in love with him! The poor young lady has enough to worry about without Dotour breathing down her neck."
I nodded. Who in Boulviddar didn't know of the lovely, friendly Rosa Aroma's sorry predicament? One day, I was going to ask her to work here, at the Spilled Goblet, so that she could be happy instead of sorting papers. Help was always welcome here.
The third and final sheet of paper was Link's schedule. "Looks like you gotta run in heat fourteen at eleven thirty." I looked up at him. "They're hardly giving us any time in between! What with the fencing at twelve…"
"We'll be fine, Anni. Don't get so worried," he said. Tetra shivered a bit beside him. "What about the rest?"
"Let's see… Your first match is at twelve on ground seven. I won't be able to watch you… But if you keep winning, your seventh match is on my ground, number one."
"That's nice of them," he remarked. He didn't know that most people didn't make it to the seventh round. You were finished when you lost, and the seventh round was the last one.
"And everyone's in the same boat race, and that's at six thirty, so we're fine, there." Link nodded, and Tetra shivered again. Monty craned his long neck and peeked around me.
"Oh, so it's you," he said upon seeing Link. I didn't ask; phoenixes went in and out of death so often that they knew a lot of things. He'd even spoken to my mother once or twice, but he'd never tell me about the conversations. "You're going to do something mischievous while the Tournament Moon is in the skies, aren't you?" He chuckled. "A regular Masked Boy, you are!"
"Uh, sure," smiled Link, who knew next to nothing about the Masked Boy, nor anything else the bird was babbling about.
"Well, good luck with that," cackled Monty, and he flew from the window. I shut it.
"Tournament Moon," mumbled Tetra, shivering violently like she was having a fit.
"Tetra, are you absolutely sure you're okay?" Link asked.
"…No… But it was Tournament Moon in my dream…" She shuddered. I'd never seen her so sickly and pale.
"That's funny. You never have nightmares," he mused. "You said that whenever you had a nightmare, I'd always show up with the Master Sword and banish it away." She tried to sigh and control herself, tried to smile again.
"Well," She shuddered. "It isn't like you didn't… try, anyway."
"What? You mean I lost? That's weird." A slight frown appeared on his face.
All this dream stuff was weirding me out. "Does it matter?" I interrupted.
"Of course it matters!" Link, Tetra, and even Saigon snapped.
"But they're all just dreams! Fantasy in the night! At least, that's what I'm led to believe. None of them make sense, anyway you slice them."
"Well," said Tetra, unusually passive, quietly. "I've had similar dreams a thousand times- and even when the nightmare was Ganondorf himself, Link was there and the light of the Master Sword split through him like a thousand knives." Ganondorf… I'd heard his name so many times, and yet he seemed just a vague memory, if anything at all. Something Sheikah in me made me clench my fists just thinking about the name- yet, something else, something new, sort of quailed at the name of what seemed to be a man of terrible power, purest evil.
"What happened, then?" I asked, glancing at the clock. "The reverse?"
"No," murmured Tetra. She hugged her knees and closed her eyes tightly. "The sh-shadow was sort of creeping towards me to lunge, and then Link showed up. I was sorta relieved until I noticed that he was fighting with a stick."
"A stick?" Link wrinkled up his nose at the thought.
"The Master Sword is still in the hands of evil," mused Saigon. For some reason, her brow was furrowed at Tetra, not out of concern, but something else. I'd seen her do this several times in the last few days.
"So you tried to fend off this shadow-beast with this stick, Link, fiercely, too, and it just sorta laughs and catches you under his paw with no effort at all." She shivered again, and almost couldn't say the next part. "H- he killed you, Link! Sliced you apart and ate your beating heart! Your blood covered the ground and his muzzle and paws were red with it, and he was crunching on your bones like they were nothing…" She shuddered, tears appearing in her eyes, and leaned over onto Link, her check on his shoulder. "I was s-so afraid that when I woke up, you wouldn't be here."
He leaned his head on hers. "But I'm here, Tetra, y'see?" The side of his fist was placed over his heart.
"Link, you're crazy," she murmured. "You don't have to fight that Chichimara; you can just stay here… here… and be safe. Anni wouldn't mind, would'ja, Anni?"
"Uh…"
Her eyes flashed blue and she shivered. "Please, Link, don't go to the Tournament! Please, don't… He's there, I know he is. My dreams always lead to something or another."
"Tetra…" He sighed, became aware of the fist over his heart, and rapidly drew it away. "I gotta fight him." He glanced across the room at me, remembering our late night encounter.
"You're overconfident," she murmured to him accusingly.
"Well, perhaps he is too."
She stood up, walked over to me, and snatched the papers from my hands. "You can't, Link. I won't let you!"
"The sword, Tetra! When it's placed back where it can merge the worlds and time, it will block Ganon and the rest from ever returning! But while it's part of some monster's collection, there's nothing keeping another attack from coming through. I don't have a choice in the matter. After all, I was the one who lost it. D'you think I'm gonna just sit here and watch evil take over again?"
"You don't know when it'll come again, though! It might be a thousand years from now!"
"It just doesn't feel right."
"You're not going to the Tournament," she said in a final sort of manner. "He'll find you there and kill you, and this time I'm not going to let you risk it." And with this, her eyes glowed bright, and the papers in her hands burst into a bright blue flame.
"Tetra, h-how did you do that?" said Link in alarm.
"What? That?" She grumbled, eyes rolling as she shook off the ash and flame. "No idea. Happens every once in a while when I'm sorta moody."
Saigon nodded silently in the corner. Tetra traced her name in the air with a flaming finger, muttering madly about Link, cupped her hands, and sent a tiny round fireball floating through the center of it all, shimmering for a few seconds before disappearing in a puff of smoke.
"Does it… hurt?" I asked. I'd seen a lot of magic, but none of this sort before.
"Not really," She said nonchalantly, as if the flames had almost soothed her. "A bit like coffee that's just cool enough to drink without burning your tongue, but it sorta steams your insides on the way down."
"Hmm. The Crown Flame," said Saigon, sensing the magic in the air, and smelling it, as most magic had some sort of smell. "That's rare stuff you've got there, child. As I remember, it only belonged to a certain clan in Old Hyrule."
"Huh," grunted Tetra, with an odd shake that put out her tiny flame.
"They were a group that had befriended the Goddess Nayru, and thus were given strange powers of peace and wisdom," said Saigon, reciting from the textbook that was her head. "That fire of yours is fed by truth, and if you learn to control it, you will always know when something is deceiving you. It should be used for peace, as it has a few healing powers, and it won't burn anything unless your full conscience wishes to. Mind you, I didn't think you felt so passionately about burning those papers- it's often quite difficult to feel so strongly about something. Be careful, child. Your anger could be dangerous to your allies as well as your foes."
"Well, it's not like you can blame me for not wanting my friend to become pot roast," muttered Tetra.
"Hero sandwich," murmured Link, and I told him to shush up.
"Yes child, but you must look at your dreams as you did before; they tell you what will happen, not what might. You keeping Link from the Tournament wouldn't change the eventual outcome a bit. Destiny will not be changed by one, but by many."
"Wait one minute, here," said Link, a little nervously. "You're saying it's quite clear that I will die?! That's reassuring."
"I didn't say that." Saigon was a bit annoyed at everyone's 'ignorance'. "The dream-muses use symbolism much more than telling you flat out what will happen." She waved her hand over the ash on the floor and brought back the schedules. "Put those in your pocket, Anni." I did. "I don't know what fate is written down for this boy, but so far, it seems extravagant. Now, Tetra, you didn't tell us the whole dream. Keep going."
"That is the end, Saigon. Chichimara devoured Link. I don't think it could go any farther than that."
"Hmm… Really?" Saigon looked a bit disturbed for the first time. "No light, no strange sounds, no voices….?"
"Well…" Tetra shifted uneasily. "Yeah, there was a bit of that. A flash of light, and then the monster sorta whimpered, but that was probably indigestion."
"Oh. All right then." Saigon nodded again. "Anni! Shouldn't you be at school about now?"
"Oh, Din!" I said, frantically looking at the clock. I had ten minutes; there was no way I was going to be able to run across a field, rent a gondola, paddle through the city, and be there on time. "This is about as sweet as honey… I'll never get there on time…" I sighed. "Can't I just say I was sick and stay here with you? This conversation might mean something."
Saigon tilted her head around the room, a bit too slowly for my comfort. "No, Anni, you've got to keep up your studies."
"But-"
"You won't be late, I'll send you through the Ttvo'cha."
"Oh, no!" I cried, backing away. "I'll run, they won't mind if I'm a bit late-"
But Saigon had already pulled out her L & L Ranch harmonica, and was playing the tune while making the motion with her hands. I winced as wings, the feathers spun neatly from pure magic, curled around me with the most tickly and horrible of sensations. The Ttvo'cha, it seemed, translated neatly from the Old Hylian to "Owl Song", or "Song of Soaring".