The Eternal Children of the Forest, the Korokdom of the Woods in the Kokiri Village at The Clearing of Hyrule's Eastern Wilderness and the Caretakers of All Life in Honor of the Great Producer Known as Deku Tree I, pledged their undying appreciation, thanksgiving and future stories told to a Hylian boy named Link. It was the first time in history that an Outsider was given the title "Kokiri Champion."
Link could barely sigh, however. He had no idea what to feel, and that was exhausting. The issue of his birth came out with a bang, with Mido trying his hardest to insinuate that it was this fact that had killed the Deku Tree and Navi and Saria contending quite vocally about where Mido could shove his outrageous accusations.
The only set of triplets in the Forest, called the Knowing Brothers for their general knowledge and witty wisdom, they practiced the storycraft of Kokiri. They were the ones who told the tales gathered from travelers, the unsuspecting and unlucky victims of misdirection into a forest that warranted no intruders, they who recalled the legends of Kokiri Champions past. Even with their vast databanks, no other Champion had ever accomplished as much for the little band of hunter/gatherers.
Link could only produce a strained smile while they recounted his deeds: a Learned Child by Adoption, a Stoic Withstanding of Torture, Honored by the Wisest and His Peers, Honored by The Great Deku Tree, Accompanied by the Fairy Navi, Gifted with the Sword of the Kokiri, the second known Killer of a Queen Gohma, Dominant Over the Scrubs and Kokiri Champion on Merit of Heart.
Link barely tasted the food of the hastily thrown-together Feast in his Honor. The last rush of spring greens and fern fiddles was past its prime, barely snappish and the crispy rabbit tasted burnt. No berry that touched his tongue had any of the usual flavor and juiciness.
Link almost missed Saria's glowing praise of him in Speech; he had been so deep in personal concepts, trying to decipher the riddle of what happened to turn his life upside down.
So far, the blue glowing spark hovering serenely next to him seemed to be the first to change everything. Navi was the one to awaken him this morning, who told him to go see the Deku Tree, and that trip definitely altered the fabric of his reality. She was nice enough, really, Link thought, keeping in mind her vivacious and snarky streak. Nevertheless, Navi had taken him from his secure soapberry thicket, away from familiar mornings and consistent afternoons. He never realized just how much he treasured the routine of the forest, of the seasons and all the individual cycles of Life, he moped. Link tipped the carved wooden cup from side to side, occupying his eyes with the swishing motion of the liquid while his mind drifted into more desolate self-examination.
He was leaving the Forest tomorrow morning. A handful of hours remained. He looked upwards, into the indigo night to study the stars playing out their endless, repetitive drama and patterns; the night-black leaves fluttering softly in time to the steady drums of the musicians. More alcohol was served and Link took no pleasure in the heady buzz.
He would be leaving in a few hours. Unexpectedly however, individual sleeping furs and leather rolls were brought out and the Children laid themselves in an outward spiral from Link. Saria slept on the edge, choosing to give the honor of sleeping next to Link to others. He had been unaware of any ceremony like this, wondering if it had been the Knowing Brother's Lore and the Wisest's advice or the instruction of the multicolored fairy companions.
As included as he now felt, it was still an empty sensation. Link was leaving the forest when he awoke. Luckily, the alcohol worked fast and the Hylian boy drifted into the fitful sleep of his last night in the Kokiri Woods.
Link stretched, joints popping, back aligning, skin clammy in the treeless Clearing, still misty but full of deafening birdsong. He sat up, eyes closed and wiggled his neck to loosen it. Fingers clenched, he leaned forward onto his knees. He opened his eyes.
Many of his brethren were already awake, merely waiting for their honored Champion to initiate the morning. Immediately, several girls and a boy bounded from their sleeping rolls to the cold fireplace, stirred the coals, added a touch of kindling, blew the fire to life and erected a small frame over the small, licking flames. They strung a skin pot to the frame, filled it with water from a preserved stomach of a deer and poured in an entire bag of parched grains. Small rocks were heating in the fire, which they picked up with sticks and dropped directly into the pot, the roundabout way of pulverizing, stirring and heating porridge. In shifts, the Children dropped and fished hot rocks into and from the rapidly warming gruel. The leather of the pot never burned as it heated over the fire; the liquids from cooking seeped through the porous material, essentially fireproofing the vessel. As soon as the grains softened and the thick mass could bubble on its own, the leftover feast fixin's were thrown in, along with a hardy handful of pale green sage leaves, sweet, diced licorice root and more than a little mint. Feast-After gruel was an ancient and welcome breakfast.
Link could only pick at his serving of the starchy mixture of rabbit, greens, berries and herbs. He ate begrudgingly, if only to store energy for his journey ahead. Breakfast was cleared away and everyone milled towards the fire, awaiting a few words from their Champion, Leader and Wisest.
Link could only stare as Mido said, "Whether by choice or fate, this day you leave the forest is an ending or a beginning. Decide wisely which you pick."
Saria repeated the honorifics, the fancy thanks and flowery praise of his undertakings. She addressed Navi as well, casting a small good luck charm for the fairy by releasing a handful of perfect, white windsurfing seeds that danced and floated away on fortuitous breezes.
Link could only stand dumb when his Brothers and Sisters turned their eyes to him. From somewhere, though, his mouth opened and he spewed forth something about thanking them for all they had done, and how even when it was tough, he did his best as a Kokiri. Really, it didn't mean much to him. He was leaving, after all, no matter what he said. His body and the Deku Tree and his mother decreed it before he had a say.
Then, for several ridiculous moments, the woods resounded with the sound of Ki-yi-yi's , yips, howls, cheers and applause. Link did his best to appear gracious. He just wanted to leave. Unfortunately, the gifts came next. Nothing was specially made, but each Child carefully chose crafts made over winters past. He was given a beautiful spear from Hido, a soft leather cape dyed cupric green from Naria, many bags of food from the particularly practical members of the camp, tools of the finest obsidian and travel-styled sleek bags and a back frame to lash it all on to boot! His gifts were tied together, and the impromptu shield was secured on top of it all.
Everything was ready for his departure. The whole Clan approached him individually, wishing him luck, relating the last tips on survival they could, assuring him of his success in the Outside World. After each child had shaken his hand, they drifted back to their morning chores until only Link and Saria stood in the Great Clearing.
Link hauled the bulky pack onto his back, feeling much like the tortoises that plodded morosely through the forest. While his gifts would be more than enough to keep him alive, he still wished to visit his thicket and sort through his own goods and sift out the unnecessary products already lashed down.
Even though his feet knew the path back to his place, his heart snagged on every landmark and feature they passed. There were the familiar clumps of grass he pulled up for baskets or mats, the low growing shrubs in the sheltered gullies and ramps of the landscape where he had hidden, crouched, for the better part of a day during the Hide'N'Seek Tournament last year. Link was also not averse to root around in those bushes for grubs or pretty rocks. And farther on was the vine-covered rock face that overlooked a little pool and a steady tinkling waterfall whose source remained unseen. Minnows, frogs, newts, snakes and even the odd muskrat called it home, and in turn, Link often called those his dinner. In the opposite direction from the pond was a small grove of young ash trees, growing straight up, trying with all their resources to reach the unfiltered light above the canopy. Only one or two out of the whole stand would ever see the pure daylight aside from the dappling from older brothers. Link remembered with a pang of discomfiture his digging stick had come from this copse, and he forgot it in The Meadow. There was no way he would go back at this point, he scoffed mentally, and settled for the compensatory spear from Hido.
As soon as the soapberry thicket, with its light green leaves and tiny white flowers spiraling around woody withes, popped into view from the surrounding vegetation, Link heaved a forlorn sigh and dragged his gifts to the rear of his little home. Saria rushed forward and began untying thongs and gracefully laid out the sea-foam green leather cape where she and Link spread the rest of his spoils. He took his time choosing what to take and leave.
Link picked up a soft little bag, inspecting the woven flax fibers closely, identifying the embroidery of Tulia Threadpuller. She so loved indigo and the abstract, polygonal designs meant to represent deku babas. From inside the bag, Link pulled out two-dozen hard nuts. The shells were a dark, uniform shade of ochre red with a single equatorial split, and a goldenrod colored spot the size of a fingernail sat on one end where the stem connected it to the rest of the plant. Link scrutinized each of his nuts, ensuring that none of them were cracked or ready to break. Satisfied, he stowed them again and gazed over the collection of objects.
Struck by a little idea, Link moved to his stores of goods, and from beneath the peeled cedar cone, he selected a wide, shallow basket and set it on the ground outside his thicket. He crawled inside and dumped an armload of furs into the container, smoothing them down to lay flat on the bottom. He had always been partial to the thick shaggy fur of the bear for sleeping. He smiled fondly as he ran his fingertips over the hair of the pelt, remembering his astonishment when an old male bear passed by his thicket, promptly collapsing before Link's very eyes, offering up his invaluable fat, meat, hide and revered claws and bones. Even Mido hadn't complained that night when he shared his feast.
Then he went back to his accumulation of supplies around back, piling on, layer-by-layer, cuts of cured leather and a few larger sheets of rawhide, the tough yellowish untreated skin of an animal. When softened in water, the skin became pliable again, but not for long. As it dried, rawhide took whatever shape hands formed, tightening and shrinking as it did so, which made it extremely useful for binding things together and quickly made vessels. Next, Link made sure to take a few sticks of dehydrated sinew, originally belonging to the long tendons of a buck. When the incredibly strong fibers were separated, sinew was even better than rawhide for binding, sewing and stitching. One could never tell when such repairs might be necessary. Only in the snowy, slushy winters were the sewn parkas and mukluk boots needed for Kokiri protection against frostbite, however. Link didn't think he wanted to be burdened by his cold weather gear this early in the summer. He could always throw on a fur cloak anyway, and he set aside his wolfskin parka and buckskin suede leggings. Normally, the Kokiri wore no foot coverings, preferring to feel the earth between their toes, but Link wasn't so sure of the terrain ahead, and at least put the fat-cured, waterproof boots that reached his knees in his basket. He grabbed a stomach of elk-meat pemmican, his store of dried fruit kept in a birch bark packet and a rope of sausage-like sections of intestines filled with extra life-giving fat.
Meat was all well and good, and vegetables and fruits and insects contributed to a fantastic diet for the Children of the Forest, but in the lean thawing spring, fat was hard to come by, and an essential source of calories. Once the fat was scraped from the hide of an animal, and collected from the deposits in the body of their prey, location different between each specie, the harvest was boiled in a pot of water until the clean, rendered oil and tallow floated on the surface. It was skimmed off and poured into fresh intestines, awaiting a hungry tooth to open the conveniently packaged pockets of caloric heaven. Supplementing thin stew, adding lubrication to the dry, doughy cattail pollen biscuits, smeared on dry skin to renew, fat had a million uses compared to meat's only duty.
Comfortable with his choices, Link threw the green hide over his basket that rested on the back frame. Saria grabbed the opposite ends of the lacing thongs and tied the edges under themselves, which would keep rain out of the seams. He hoisted the ordeal onto his shoulders, threading his arms through strong straps of soft sued that would not chafe when he sweated. Lastly, he tied a wide belt of rabbit skins around his waist, securing his new blade and makeshift scabbard. Adjusting his position slightly, Link wiggled himself to get situated under his new load, his portable survival kit, and his nomadic home.
"Do you want the shield?" Saria asked, holding up the scrap of bark.
Link considered it, but it would be as good as firewood when the tree skin dried out and lost resiliency. He shook his head and the Wisest left it standing neatly next to the supplies he was leaving behind.
"I'll walk with you to the edge," Saria promised sadly, no trace of tears in her voice, though her puffy, red, cornflower blue eyes protested mightily.
Link surveyed the forest around his thicket one last time, knowing individual maples, ashes, elms, sycamores, walnuts and oaks by the shapes of their trunk, tracing the shadows their leaves plied on the rich floor alive with bugs, ferns, mosses flaming red in bloom, upright flox topped with an extraordinary top hat of light pink or purple clumps of flowers, little patches of dark green buttercup dotted with the yellow flowers of their namesake, and listened to the riotous birdsong of robins, jays, sparrows, finches, thrushes, catbirds, mockingbirds, and the big-voiced wren. Early summer was always his favorite season in his part of the forest, the Middle Forest, comprised of hardwoods and pithy birches and evergreens closer to the water of the ponds and streams. The high standing, berry bearing pokeweed plant shaded jewelweed, a milder, soothing cousin of the deku baba, periwinkle vine carpeted the dry spots alongside portulaca and lantanas, sumac and blackberry growing peaceably in the boggy places.
Setting his feet in a direction seldom traveled by any Kokiri, let alone Hylians, Link began blazing a new path towards the edge of the woods, Navi calmly following on lightly swooshing wings and Saria dragging her feet behind the both of them. He kept the rising sun behind him, following the shadows cast by the boles of the beeches, crossing a few surface streams, new each year depending upon the spring melt. Soon, the familiarity faded as Link strayed farther and farther away from the place he had once called home. Meadows began appearing in the thinning trees, the landscape a more rolling and hilly sort than either Child was used to, but both were studying the landscape in intense subconscious concentration. Living in a world where their survival depended on their ability to find food had honed their knowledge of the living world to a keen edge. They knew the family traits of plant species as well as their own feet, cataloguing possible harvests instinctively, but not just for food. It was also good to know where a plant could grow, the ratio of plant to space to estimate the harvest, the conditions that were beneficial for harvest, what parts of the plant could be used, how to process them without destroying the essential properties, how the plant reproduced, and how to help a dying breed make a comeback. There was very little about their world they did not know, or at least how to deduce the answers from the unusual. New plants were always treated with care and caution, many Children testing small bits of the leaves, stem, roots and fruit, if applicable, to document by careful observation the effects, if any at all. If there were any effects, the plant was taken to Laria for medical research to put into her curative potions.
During the early days of Learning Lore, a Kokiri was taken by his fairy partner and friends into the different environments around the forest: west to the sunny, open copses of the Middle Forest, southeast to the Meadow and Old Forest, east to the infinite, rocky and sandy beaches that butted against the Ocean, north to the southern reaches of the Mountains Where Nothing Grew and far to the south were the stinking salt marshes and swamps adjoining the Ocean, fed and bloated by a massive lake and river system to the extreme southwest. Link had visited these ecosystems, and learned his Lore well. He wistfully passed groves of apples, pears, cherries, crabapples and some feral grapevines, promising their fruits for a later season, but somehow, he didn't think he would be back in a season for any produce. Woody stemmed herbs like little thickets of coralberry dotted the hills at the edge of the Kokiri's world.
The grass was a pale green, splendid in the rising light, barely dry from the dew that settled during the night. Grasshoppers flung themselves skyward, more chirped from the unseen, filling the morning with a drowsy casualness that Link strove to match. It was just an outing, another trip to Learn. He might even come back someday with new knowledge to Share. Link tried to invent more reasons not to be sad, but it was getting harder with every hill and gully conquered.
Suddenly, there were no more trees. Knee high grass and sky were the only notable features of the landscape before Link and Saria and Navi. Ahead of them, the great, green rolling prairie stretched to the horizon, offering no overhead protection at all. Link was almost uncomfortable with that much blue, cloudless sky above them. The only home he had known was beneath a thick canopy or at least within sight of a few trees. Out here, though, so far away, so much space and open ground to explore almost had Link excited. Hylians lived on this plain. Somewhere. He would find them eventually, he hoped. The world was only so big, right? He took another step forward onto the grassland.
"Wait," Saria said, her voice tearing from her sob-tight throat. Link turned to see his Wisest in dejected tears, on her knees, clutching her head. "I…I always knew you would leave."
Link nodded, silent.
"If you…if you would have stayed, I would have taken you as a Musician's apprentice, to teach you ocarina Lore and if you had been able to Grow Up, I believe you would be a wolf."
Two succinct blows to his heart, Link bit back on the bawl that ached in the back of his windpipe, leaving him breathless and stiff. He could not bear to part with his only friend, the one who had raised him, guided him, taught him the wisdom of the Kokiri when no fairy could do so.
Saria crumpled for a moment, still and noiseless, wringing the leather of her short cape in her hands and then teeth, and Link could sense her frustrated scream through bitten leather. Then, she dug in a pouch on her belt, holding something dear, whispering comfortingly to herself and got to her feet.
"Take this. Remember me."
Without another word, the wise green-haired girl thrust a small object into Link's hands and disappeared back through the copses of the meadows.
Link stared after her for a while, hoping to glance her again through the growth, but her woodcraft was too good for that. Nut-brown skin tanned by the elements was the same shade as sunlit tree bark, blonde hair (depending on cleanliness) that matched the many hues of sun-dappled bushes, Children of the Forest were perfectly adapted to their environment, with or without camouflage.
"Ahem," came a tiny cough from above Link's head. He glanced up at Navi.
"I forgot you came with me," he said, no apology present as he studied the vista of his Childhood home.
"I figured," Navi shrugged. She paused, and then asked carefully, "What did you get?"
Link looked down. His prize was none other than Saria's ocarina.
He had not cried when he packed.
He had not cried when Mido seemed to publicly forgive him.
He had not cried when the Deku Tree's spirit left this world.
He had cried when he found out how different he was, and how Saria had lied to save him.
And now, he caved in again, falling to the ground and wept with all the abject misery of one who has lost all they know. He dripped his bitter, burning tears onto the pink clay body of Saria's most personal possession, pressed it to his lips, and blew a loud, sharp long fweet into the still air of the empty grassland, louder and more piercing than his voice could ever be. Every breath he took in he expelled through the little ocarina, a long, wailing dirge that did not echo filled his ears, his heart, his soul, his world, incessant and hollow, sounding for all the world like a possessed owl.
Navi sat on a little rock nearby, waiting for the boy's outpouring of grief to subside.
