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A Hero's Chance
Chapter 3: Arrangement
Chapter summary: Link's 'heritage' is exposed and some things are agreed upon.
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Louise leads her new familiar into her quarters. It appears that the maids have been in since she left for class early this morning; the silky sheets on her four-poster bed have been refreshed, the bed re-made and the brocade duvet smoothed out. Her laundry has been picked up from where she discarded it across the chaise and her desk chair, and she's certain that if she opens her armoire she will find her uniforms and sleep clothes cleaned, carefully pressed, and put away. The floor is swept and the rugs beaten clean. In fewer words, it looks just as immaculate as she expects from the academy's cleaning staff. The little noblewoman walks to the side of her bed, unclips her second year robe, and tosses it carelessly over the duvet. Her wand goes down next to it. As she sits down to take off her shoes, she addresses her companion.
"In case you did not catch it from my incantation," she starts primly, "my name is Louise Françoise le Blanc de La Vallière. I summoned you here to be my familiar, which means that I am your new mas—what in the Founder's name are you doing?" With her shoes removed, she finally looks up and catches Link holding up the porcelain vase from her desk and peering into it. The flowers that once occupied it now lay in a surprisingly neat row on the tabletop. "Put that down! It is a priceless antique made by a master earth mage!"
Link—such a strange name, Louise can't help but think—turns his attention to her. At her glower, he shrugs and sets the vase down. Then he looks at the flowers on the desk. His hand goes for a strange rectangular object hanging from his belt, but Louise has had enough of being ignored by her summoned servant, so she interrupts whatever it is he's about to do by springing to her feet and advancing.
"You pay attention to me when I'm talking to you, got it?" He looks apologetic enough at that, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture as she marches up to him. "Got. It?" She repeats pointedly, eyes narrowing. To her disappointment Link doesn't look the least bit intimidated, though he does nod firmly. Knowing that's the best she's going to get, Louise sighs and turns towards her armoire to fish out a new pair of stockings.
"As I was saying, you are my familiar now—" If she hadn't been keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn't continue his inspection of the flowers, Louise would have missed the inquiring look on his face. She pauses, surprised. "Don't tell me you do not know what a familiar is!"
Link simply shrugs, and then teeters his hand in a motion Louise interprets to mean "somewhat." She suppresses a groan and squares her shoulders, closing her eyes to recall what her professors said about familiars over the last few weeks. "A familiar is a mage's most trusted creature companion. Called from their homes through an ancient and powerful ritual, every familiar is a perfect match for their summoner's soul and provides a service that the summoner desperately needs, either at the time of casting or in the near future. A summoning contract is for life," she recites. "Do you understand?"
Link looks troubled at the last bit, but he nods anyway, so Louise continues her lecture. "Additionally, the familiar reflects the mage. On the surface, this means that the familiar's element is the same as the summoner's. But it is also a reflection of ability: a rare, powerful familiar indicates a strong mage. A weak or common familiar…" Louise examines her familiar critically. Her eyes trail over the foreign armor he wears, linger on the gash in his side that seems to have stopped bleeding—thankfully, as she'd almost forgotten about it in the wake of the ceremony—and finally rest on the blue scales and silver jewelry surrounding his painfully human face. "Are you sure you are not some shape-shifting magical fish creature?"
Link nods, conviction shining in his eyes. Louise scowls. So much for that. I suppose I really am hopeless. She turns sourly back to her wardrobe and starts rifling through her underclothes drawer, side-eyeing him as she does so.
"Then take that thing off your head. You look ridiculous," she gripes, annoyed. She catches the somewhat offended look that crosses his face, but resolves not to feel bad and turns her whole focus on her hose. Deftly selecting a simple grey pair out of the drawer, she doesn't bother to close the armoire before she sits on her bed, peels off her muddied stockings, and pulls the fresh pair on. She feels somewhat mollified when she hears metal clinking against metal behind her. At least he's listening to her commands.
Deciding to seize the moment of obedience, she starts laying out the plan for the rest of the day. "Anyway, I have class again in an hour. We only came up here so I could refresh myself after slogging through the mud this morning. I will take you down to the infirmary presently, and when the matron is finished with you, I will go to class." With her stockings fastened to the modest garter belt under her skirt, Louise stands and faces her familiar, dirty stockings in hand. "While I am there, you will wash the…" she trails off, staring at Link.
For the first time, the little noblewoman gets a full view of her familiar's face. He's exchanged his strange blue-finned headdress for a golden circlet with a fat pear cut diamond at the forehead. He has a head of fluffy honey blond hair that she hadn't been able to see before. And his pierced ears, once completely covered by scaly blue fins, end not in rounded tips but in long, delicate points.
In short, Louise finds herself face to face with an elf.
The volume of her shriek as she dives across the bed for her wand and then scrambles back is nothing next to the concussive 'Bang!' of an explosion when she flings a "fireball" spell at her hapless familiar. The entire room rocks with the force of it, filling up with smoke and shaking dust from the ceiling above.
Louise drops into a crouch on the floor and covers her head, hyperventilating. 'An elf. I summoned an elf. How could I have summoned an elf!?' She grips her hair tightly and squeezes her eyes shut against the smoke.
Luckily, the maids left her window open; it doesn't take too long for the dust to settle and the smoke to clear, only a few minutes of tense silence. It's long enough for her nerves to calm slightly. As she slowly uncurls, her heartbeat slows back to its normal rate. 'There is no way that I summoned an elf,' she rationalizes. 'I am dreaming. Or hallucinating. I must have seen wrong.'
Movement from the other side of the room catches her attention, and Louise slowly, slowly turns and peers over the bed. Red eyes meet blue from behind a sleek black shield. And there, plain as day, are the tips of those pointy ears again.
Instinct and blind fear alike pull another shrieked fireball incantation from her, and then another, and another, until exhaustion wins out and Louise collapses back into a crouch, sweating buckets. Once again the room is filled with smoke as she takes cover behind the bed.
'Alright. He's an elf. I summoned an elf. Holy Brimir, I disrespected and blew up an elf. We are all going to die because of me.'
Risking another peek through the smoke at the deadly predator on the other side of her bedroom, she notes with horror that his shield appears to be intact, only slightly singed from her explosions. Tufts of sooty blond hair stick out from behind it, but otherwise the enemy of mankind doesn't seem to be hurt. She doesn't know how he managed to switch shields so quickly from the gaudy round shield to this large, cruel-looking heraldic shield, but she chalks it up to the ever-mysterious magic of the elves.
What puzzles her more, though, is that he hasn't advanced on her yet. She had fired off so many spells in a vain effort to protect herself, thinking he would attack her the second he realized his game was over and she figured out his heritage. But no: even as she watches, he stays behind his shield, taking cover from spells that no doubt wouldn't even put a scratch on him. It's baffling, and Louise finds herself wondering, 'why hasn't he killed me yet?'
The thought of being murdered by an elf brings out an unconscious whine from the poor mage, and that tiny sound of distress seems to be the thing that catches the elf's attention. Louise sees him perk up from behind his shield, and she wilts against the bedside, closing her eyes. She doesn't have the mana to cast another spell. Rustling and light footsteps meet her ears; as death approaches her, she shrinks down and cowers.
Something in front of her thumps to the ground, and suddenly, there's a weight on the top of her head. Louise jerks back, eyes snapping open and staring up at the elf's outstretched hand. Link stares back at her, confusion and concern warring in his expression, as easy to read as an open book. She watches that hand slowly descend again, cringes away when it makes contact, but the touch is... gentle. Soothing. Open-mouthed shock isn't something Louise can ever recall experiencing before, yet here she is, gaping like a fish as a concerned elf pats her head like a mother calming a baby.
"Wh-what in the Founder's name are you doing?" She finds herself repeating, this time staring up at her summoned familiar with a mix of shock and fear. He quirks an eyebrow and reaches slowly for her hands the same way one might reach for a wounded animal. She tries to contain her flinch as he gently cups one of her hands and lifts it in front of her face.
It's shaking. Her hand is trembling, but as he rubs steady circles into her palm, she sees and feels it start to relax. 'He's trying to calm me down,' she realizes. "No, b-but!" Her voice comes out much louder than she expects and she cringes again, correcting herself to the best of her ability. "But why are you c-c-comforting me, when you should be k-killing me?" She squeezes her eyes shut like speaking the sentiment aloud will bring it into reality, but all he does is tap on the top of her head to catch her attention. She reluctantly pries her eyelids back open.
Link is staring at her, brow furrowed. A perfect picture of confusion. The same expression as before, when she had to explain the concept of familiars to him. This, however, she shouldn't have to explain. "You're an elf!" She exclaims anyway, yanking herself away from him. "Elves hate humans like me! Our kinds have been at war for centuries—no, for millennia!" Fired up now, her fear and anxiety melt into a more familiar emotion: righteous anger. Especially at the absolutely clueless look on her familiar's face. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!"
But the expression doesn't fade, even as she watches him mouth the word "elf" silently several times. Maybe the translation spell isn't working properly? Somewhat assured that he won't be attacking her in the immediate future, Louise pulls her hand from his grasp—'why didn't he take my wand hand and disarm me?'—and uses it to push her long strawberry hair away from her face and behind the shell of her ear. The motion catches his attention, as she intended, but the expression on his face becomes inscrutable.
It suddenly occurs to Louise that he might not have realized that he's among humans.
"Your ears," she forges on, ignoring the dread starting to fill her gut again. "They-they're pointed. Normal ears do not look like that. Those with pointed ears are called Elves. You should know this!" He shakes his head, and she glowers. "What, are you saying that I'm wrong? I pay attention in class, you dog, I'm not stupid."
He scrunches his nose at the insult, but does no more than gesture to himself and shake his head again.
Louise thinks on this. Do elves call themselves something else, even in the common tongue? All of her edginess from the past few minutes slowly trickles out the longer he stays docile, and maybe that's what he's waiting for, but Louise... doesn't think so. "Are you saying..." she starts, examining him critically, "...that you aren't an elf?"
He nods enthusiastically, shifting back on his heels. Louise notices that the injury on his side has started trickling again, though Link himself doesn't seem to mind as he watches her back. The mage frowns. "That's impossible. If you aren't an elf, how do you explain your ears? They—they're pointed! Do the other people of your race have pointed ears or is it just you?"
Link makes an expansive motion with his hands. Louise pegs him with a look. "So it's not just you." The elf shrugs again, and the mage is already tired of that gesture. "Then—then what about spells! Can you cast spells without an incantation? Can—" she flounders for a second, searching her memory of her childhood education on elves for something more in-depth than 'if you ever come across an elf, you run and pray it doesn't find you'. She snaps her fingers when something comes to her. "Can you do magic without a conduit?"
Her familiar looks put upon, but nods anyway with a slight grimace and a new gesture the girl isn't sure how to decipher. Louise chooses to ignore it and instead crosses her arms. "See! Only elves can do that. And!" Another fact about elves hits her and she leans forward, fixing him with a stare. "How old are you?"
This one, he really seems to have to think about. He raises a hand to his chin and looks up, humming a bit to himself, before he finally seems to settle on a number. He raises both hands, appearing reluctant—like he knows she's right!—and gestures out an easily decipherable '1,' '1,' and '8.'
One hundred and eighteen. That settles it in Louise's mind. She stands up and yanks her robe off the bed and around her shoulders, fastening it as quickly as possible before marching around the bed and stuffing her feet into her Mary Janes. The elf—her familiar, oh Brimir—startles at the sudden motion but seems to get the message as he stands himself, black shield clinking on his back. He looks at her quizzically, and she tries not to quail at his fey blue gaze and intimidating elven features. "We are going to see the headmaster immediately. You—" she pauses to consider her phrasing. "It would be prudent for you to cover your ears again. Please."
Another unreadable look crosses his face, but he does as she asks. He pulls a rectangular contraption off his hip, taps a few things, and that expensive-looking circlet dissolves into a shower of blue sparks that solidify into a simple red bandanna. He's in the middle of pulling the fabric down over his ears when Louise frowns. "You're not going to wear those head fins from earlier?"
Link stares a moment before gesturing emphatically at her, then making a tossing motion over his shoulder. "Me... Back—oh, before?" She interprets, and the elf nods, face twisting a bit in distaste. Oh. She never thought she would have to say this to her familiar, a servant, but the alternative... "I apologize for my words earlier. I was bitter and I took that out on you. There's nothing wrong with that headpiece if it is what you wish to wear." He scrutinizes her for a long, uncomfortable moment before he apparently decides she is being sincere. Quick as a flash, the bandanna is gone and the blue and silver headdress solidifies back on his head again.
With his ears covered once more, Louise can't help but relax a bit. "Good," she says. "Please follow me."
Louise sets a brisk pace to the headmaster's office, Link trailing behind. The two walk down to the ground floor of the second year dormitory and take one of the walkways leading to the keep. They pass a few of Louise's classmates on the way out, but aside from a few jeers, they don't acknowledge her and she ignores them in turn. Link, for his part, easily keeps up with her while looking around. Striding through the set of double doors leading to the decadent foyer, Louise bypasses the pillar-lined entrance to the Alvíss Dining Hall and instead starts up the wide, luxurious staircase to the right side of the entryway. As she does so, she casts a look back at Link.
The first thing she notices is that he looks like he's itching to do something. Nothing bad, there is surprisingly little malice in his eyes or expression, but as he examines everything in the foyer—flitting from the marble Alvíss statues guarding the entrance to the dining hall, to the ornamental rug, to the expertly crafted banister—his hand keeps twitching to the object he used to change his clothes: a brown stone tablet with a golden eye relief on one side and a sheet of sleek obsidian inlaid into the other. Louise has never seen anything like it before, but another of her mother's teachings about elves comes to mind: apparently, they like to research magical artifacts. Perhaps this stone tablet is something he uses for that purpose?
A long march up several flights of stairs later, and the unlikely duo find themselves at a roadblock Louise ought to have expected, but is nonetheless surprised by.
"Young lady, you cannot simply walk into Headmaster Osmond's office without an appointment." In all honesty, Louise doesn't even notice the secretary trying to gain their attention until she steps in front of them to block their path. Miss Longueville stands between the duo and the door to the Headmaster's office, arms crossed over her ample chest, one toe tapping an impatient beat on the floor. Her face is set into a blandly pleasant smile, but the arched eyebrow makes it very clear that she hasn't taken kindly to being ignored.
"But Miss Longueville, it is an emergency!" Louise pleads. "It's to do with my familiar!"
"Unless your familiar is dying, Miss La Vallière, it can—oh my." It's then that the secretary must notice the gash on Link's side, because she bustles around Louise and takes the familiar by the elbow, raising his arm gently to examine the trickle of blood still leaking from the wound. Louise's heart clenches at her casually manhandling a member of the most dangerous species known to man. "Why have you come here instead of the infirmary when your familiar is in such a condition?" She asks disapprovingly, unhanding Link and backing up a step to level a cool look on the young mage.
Link's lack of negative reaction—or rather, his lack of any reaction at all—soothes her fight or flight instincts enough to process the stern secretary's question. Almost immediately, her face flushes red with both indignation and shame. After finding out about her familiar's... heritage, getting him medical care became secondary to ensuring that the academy is equipped to handle an elf (and that she won't get in trouble for harboring one). 'But Miss Longueville doesn't know Link's identity,' a part of her thinks. 'If she did, she would agree that the safety of the school is more important than the health of one elf, even if he's my familiar.' It's an ugly thought, but of all the things running through her mind in that moment, it's the one that she latches onto. So Louise squares her shoulders and raises her chin imperiously. "That injury isn't what we came here for. This matter is more urgent than that."
Longueville's raised eyebrow ticks up a notch higher, and Louise tries her best not to flush again, feeling very much like a child who just gave a teacher the wrong answer in front of the entire class. Before the older woman can respond, however, the door to the Headmaster's office swings open.
"Professor Colbert!" Louise exclaims, relieved to have someone who'll surely have her side in the unfolding argument.
"Miss La Vallière. I would have expected you to be in the hospital wing with Mister Link by now," Colbert says, to Louise's consternation.
"We will be going there after this, you have my word. But we need to see the headmaster as soon as possible!" Louise takes a deep breath, looking up into the professor's concerned brown eyes. "And the matter may also involve you, sir, as it's to do with my familiar."
Colbert heaves a sigh. "We have been over this, Miss La Vallière. You cannot perform the summoning a second time."
"That's not what this is about," Louise says quickly. "It—" she falters and looks for Miss Longueville. The woman has since gone back to her desk, but is still clearly paying attention to the conversation. Her faux-pleasant smile doesn't move and her gaze is locked on Colbert, as if she thinks that staring at him hard enough will make him send Louise and Link packing to the infirmary. Louise doesn't want to reveal her familiar's secret to anybody who doesn't need to know, so... "Please, Professor Colbert. If this wasn't a matter of utmost importance, we would not have made the trip all the way up here."
Colbert raises a hand to his chin. "So it really cannot wait until walk-in hours, can it?" He verifies, looking reluctant. Louise resists the urge to take this much larger man by the shoulders and throttle him—'Doesn't he know the definition of urgent?'—and gives a stiff affirmative. Colbert then turns to her familiar, asking, "And you, Mister Link? Are you well enough to attend this meeting before having your wounds attended to?" Colbert looks like he has half a mind to disregard Louise's will altogether and send them to the infirmary post-haste, but at Link's considering look and slow but certain nod, the teacher sighs again. "Very well, then. My meeting with Old Osmond ended a bit early, so there is still some time before he will be occupied again. But after this, you will go straight to the hospital wing, is that clear?"
Louise gives a demure "Yes sir" and Link nods again, so Colbert leads them through the door into the office. Louise can feel Miss Longueville's disapproving stare on the back of her neck, but ignores it. The door clicks shut behind them.
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Link knows, logically, that he ought to be listening to the conversation going on between his summoner, the professor, and the recently introduced Headmaster Osmond. In his defense, he only pulls out the Sheikah Slate for the sake of updating his quest log after introductions are made and pleasantries are exchanged. (Link feels like maybe he was never particularly fond of the bowing and scraping required in high society, before the Calamity. Though he has no difficulty showing deference towards elders...maybe it's just the socially expected small talk that he dislikes?) But to get from his inventory to his quest log, of course, he has to scroll past the map of Hyrule. And herein lies the problem.
His inventory had been the last thing he opened before he went into the final battle with the Calamity. Since then he hasn't used any of the other functions on the Slate. Now, standing in this strange underfortified castle, surrounded by strange people, he finds that his map—which he spent the last year or so filling out, complete with warning tags wherever particularly nasty monsters have made their homes—is conspicuously blank. It's not filled with static, like it might be in the parts of the Gerudo Desert where sandstorms block the Slate's signal to a tower; no, every part of the map is simply gone, as blank as the day he woke up in the Shrine of Resurrection last year. This is—
An indignant exclamation from Louise catches Link's attention, and he briefly tunes into the conversation. Colbert's voice is disappointed when he says, "I did not tell you to take him to the infirmary because I did not think you would need to be told." Link only glances up for the barest moment to catch the frown in the professor's face before tuning back out. Hearing his summoner get scolded is not particularly high on his priority list at the moment.
He spends some time scrolling around the map in this and that direction. Maybe he's across the sea in Labrynna, the country he remembered when he saw the girl's ears—but no, scrolling west towards Hyrule turns up no results. Next he checks to see if he's in Holodrum on the other side of the desert. Then he spends a minute aimlessly scrolling north, thinking he must have landed in some distant southern country he doesn't remember. But no matter how far he looks or what direction he checks, the map is just... completely reset.
Is it some kind of glitch? If so... he swipes to the Hyrule Compendium, his photos, the slate runes, and finally his quest logs, and breathes a small sigh of relief. Everything else is there. It really is just the map function that's down. Strange, but not the end of the world. He'll just have to pay Purah a visit after this weird quest is over.
Settling back into his original task, he opens his quest log and tunes back in on what the strange Labrynnians are talking about. As it turns out, his timing is perfect; he looks up, ready to take notes, and finds the room's attention on him.
"Link, would you take off your headdress please?" Louise chokes on the word "please" like it tastes wrong in her mouth. Behind her, Headmaster Osmond sits in the armchair at his desk and Professor Colbert stands to the side. Both adults watch him with varying degrees of indulgence.
He nods his assent. With a few quick taps on his slate, the Zora Helm disappears and his Diamond Circlet solidifies in its place.
Immediately, Colbert takes half a step back, hand tightening around his staff. He tosses a look Link can't decipher at Headmaster Osmond, who simply folds his hands in front of his mouth and lowers his eyebrows. "I see," the old man says, "so it's true then. You are an elf."
Link glances at Louise. She certainly seems to think so, at least. He gives a slow nod and the gesture he usually uses when he wants to say, 'I guess.'
The headmaster must recognize the hesitance on his face, because he extrapolates, "...but that's not what you call yourself, is it? Tell me, are you from Nephthys?"
Link shakes his head, on both accounts.
"I thought not." Headmaster Osmond reclines in his seat. "Professor Colbert tells me he had to cast a translation spell in order for you to understand us, but to my knowledge, the elves of Nephthys in the south are still taught the common tongue in addition to the various elven languages in the region."
"Wait, you mean the elves have their own language?" Louise interrupts with a start, then flushes red all the way to her roots. Clearly she didn't mean to say that aloud.
Osmond doesn't seem to take it as an insult, though, so at least there's that. "Of course they do, child. Several, in fact." He strokes his beard and looks at Colbert out of the corner of his eye. "Honestly, what are you teaching these children?"
"Ahem, we only teach elven history with respect to the human kingdoms, sir. There is no curriculum involving elven culture," the professor answers smoothly, though he does look a bit sheepish.
"...No, I suppose there is not," Osmond concedes. "But back to the point. Mister Link, if you did not recognize our language upon your arrival, then you must be very far from home." The two teachers share a long look with one another here, one that makes Link's eyebrows furrow. What is that supposed to mean? After a second, Headmaster Osmond's gaze returns to Link, and he asks very directly, "What exactly are your intentions with this academy?"
Intentions? Link blinks, then cocks his head in Louise's direction and pulls off his glove to show the headmaster the writing burned into his hand. He remembers what Louise said earlier about the purpose of a familiar—they're supposed to perform some kind of service?—but he has no "intentions" except to make his way back to Hyrule. He struggles to voice this aloud, and eventually settles on a soft, "I will... find my way back home. To Hyrule." To Zelda, he doesn't say. He swallows and glances at Louise again. "...Can help Louise in the meantime, if necessary."
Professor Colbert seems concerned at this, looks about ready to speak, but Headmaster Osmond waves a hand to silence him. "It is... atypical," he starts, "for a familiar to return to the place it came from. To be frank, familiars are intended to be lifelong companions who serve their masters until they die; therefore, there is no way to reverse the summoning magically." Before Link even has time to respond to that revalation, the headmaster ploughs onward, "However, this is an atypical situation. Professor Colbert," the professor snaps to attention, "will do his absolute best to figure out where your 'Hyrule' is relative to Tristain. While he conducts his research, you may stay here as Louise's familiar, if you so wish it."
Louise looks about ready to cry—whether it's at the idea that the academy is helping him leave or at the idea that he might not want to be her familiar, Link can't tell. "But Headmaster Osmond, the summoning ritual can't be performed agai—"
"I am aware," the headmaster interrupts. In the silence following, Osmond stares long and hard at Link, who stares back. Eventually the old man seems to make a decision and sighs. "Miss La Vallière is correct. The ritual by which you were summoned is a sacred rite of passage into adulthood in our society, and while a familiar lives the summoner cannot summon another. This is a very inauspicious situation, especially for a mage in Miss La Vallière's position." He turns a slightly pitying look on Louise and says to her, "But we cannot force an elf to remain here if he does not wish it."
That sentence must contain some double meaning from the way Louise goes pale, but Link decides not to examine it. There's enough to consider as is. He feels duty-bound to get back to Hyrule, to take responsibility for the world he just helped save and assist Zelda in rebuilding her kingdom. It wouldn't be right to abandon her and her kingdom to the wolves; he couldn't live with that. But... he looks at Louise, red-cheeked and watery-eyed, so obvious in her efforts to prove herself. He can't just abandon her either—not when he apparently intruded on some sort of coming of age ceremony. It would obviously ruin her future if he left now.
So his main quest in this place is clear: he needs to 1) figure out what "position" Louise is in that would make her life difficult should he choose to leave, 2) help her fix that problem and hopefully achieve the recognition she's looking for along the way, and 3) find a way back home that won't leave Louise bereft of a companion. It shouldn't be too difficult, he thinks. Ignoring the others in the room for the moment, he types up the new entry for his quest log, snaps the Sheikah Slate back into its holster, and puts his hands on his hips with a decisive nod.
"You'll... you'll stay with me?" Louise asks, hesitant. Link bobs his head side to side, gestures at her first, then at Colbert. "...Until you find a way home," she interprets, and Link figures that's close enough. He nods again.
"Excellent!" Headmaster Osmond claps his hands. "Now, there is business to attend to. Given the tension between our two races, I cannot allow an unregulated elf to reside on my campus without rules, you understand." To the side Colbert mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "the parents would have a fit," but Headmaster Osmond graciously ignores the comment and says, "Therefore, I have to ask that you don't use any of your magic against the students. Is that amenable to you?"
Well, Link hadn't been planning to strike anyone with lightning anyway. He gives his assent and mentally turns off Urbosa's Fury. He'll have to try harder not to use any of his own time-based tricks, but as long as he doesn't get into any fights he shouldn't need to worry about that, right? No need to perfect dodge if he's not in combat.
"Good, good. Well, if that is all, Colbert will see you out. Oh, and it would be for the best for you to conceal your ears again, Mister Link."
With that, the three exit the office—after Link changes back into the Zora Helm, of course—and pass by an eagle-eyed Miss Longueville. They are well out of hearing range and nearing the stairwell when Professor Colbert finally addresses Link and Louise. "I have never heard of this 'Hyrule,' but of course that could be due to the translation spell..." He brings a finger up to tap his chin thoughtfully. "Mister Link, would you happen to own anything bearing some sort of widely-known symbol from your homeland? Something that would transcend a language barrier?"
Link thinks for a moment. Something with a well-known symbol from Hyrule on it? It occurs to him in no time at all. The Sheikah Slate is out in an instant; for the third time today, he exchanges shields and holds the Hylian Shield out for the teacher—and Louise, by extension—to examine. Engraved into its lustrous blue face, below a golden Triforce, is the royal family's crest in brilliant red enamel. Certainly if any symbol from Hyrule can be found in this school's library, it would be either the loftwing emblem or the Triforce.
Colbert takes a step forward to trace it with the tips of his fingers. "This shield is exquisite...!" Not unlike how he recorded the familiar runes earlier, Colbert pulls a stick of charcoal and the notebook from one of his sleeves, swiftly sketches out the Hylian Crest, and casts some sort of spell on it—probably to prevent smudging. "Thank you. This should help immensely in my search." The professor gives a smile and looks like he's about to turn and go. But then he pauses, seems to consider something, and asks, "Mister Link, that shield... You wouldn't happen to be a knight, would you?" At Link's nod, Professor Colbert looks unsurprised. "Then I suppose I ought to call you 'Sir,' shouldn't I? Well then, Sir Link, I will be sure to keep you updated. Miss La Vallière, please remember to take him to the hospital wing." With that, the professor goes on down the stairs.
Link moves to follow him down, but a dainty hand catches his elbow before he can take so much as a step. "You—you're a knight?" She asks, voice small. "No, more than that, you'll really stay with me for now? You really want to?"
This girl... she's kind of slow, isn't she? He's already answered both of those questions. He extracts himself from her grip and tugs on her wrist, careful not to startle her too badly. "Infirmary," is all he says.
Goddesses, he's talked too much today. His throat hurts.
At least it seems to snap Louise off of whatever track her brain is taking her down, because she shakes herself and straightens up. "Right, yes, of course." Her usual haughty demeanor comes back as she sets off down the stairs. "Follow me. I will take you there."
x
A/N: Good news, I'm not dead and I'm not abandoning this. I changed my penname to the name I write under on AO3. Might crosspost this fic there in the future if I think it'll do well.
Thanks to everyone who has liked, followed, and reviewed!
Notes:
The ZnT adults in this chapter are a little OOC, sorry about that. I just couldn't get Osmond perving on Longueville or her beating his ass to fit into this chapter. No matter what I tried, it was just too clunky.
In the Japanese version of BotW, the quest logs are narrated as if Link wrote them. Like a little diary.
Next chapter: Zelda reaches Kakariko and her real quest begins.