Rising bile shoved Link into awareness after his drink-induced coma, drove him from under the bear fur to the chamber pot across the room, and he was sad to see the delicious remnants of the evening's meal wasted. Four adults slept on, only one large form stirring at the boy's disturbance. Done retching, Link drank more water than his poor belly could hold, but he did not care, draining one of water pitchers used by the family. Certainly, his stomach of flames no longer rebelled at movement, no, however, his head was starting to feel swollen, and he was sure his brain was going to pop and gush through his ears at any point. Was Kokiri wine ever that strong?
"No, this stuff is brewed for adults," Navi said to him, her voice as sharp as it was muted last night.
Please don't…right now. Sorry.
"It's not even like you had that much," she relayed aloud, parachuting from the rafters to shoulder height on her dragonfly wings. "Malon had at least three cups and all she did was giggle."
There. The fairy was watching for his discomfort. He gave her none but what was already showing, sidling away from the chamber pot. He was impassive, illustrating no inkling that Malon's eyes seemed to hold the answer's to the questions, or her giggles like silver bells of truth…
And that was ridiculous, he scolded himself, and allowed his grimace to accentuate a particularly stabbing throb of his brow. Now sitting on the bed, Link tried to massage the spot, and the pressure relieved for a moment, then redoubled. Well. He staggered to the water jug and poured another mugful. The liquid was amorphous, and quivered like jelly in his stomach, and the gooey lumps of cud flashed in his mind, and back to the pot it was.
"Good for what ails ya, whether belly, head or heart, or two outta three," Gerick warbled sleepily from his bedside to the wretched boy. He held the little clay bottle from the wagon. Link raised his shaking head, and hungrily snatched the nasty vile, downed a swallow. Ahh, the fire turning his belly cool and chasing shadows from his brain. Sweet, sweet relief, he sighed, grateful to Gerick who was dressing for the day.
"Where do you keep this stuff?"
The old man motioned to the table at the head of his bed. "In the cupboard. We got more." He settled the turquoise-studded vest over his shoulders before he opened the door to showcase a wealth of the little earthenware bottles, among other treasures. "Take one."
"I thank you," Link raved, head back and eyes closed, holding the new item to his chest, still savoring the relief of the drink's morning-after welcome.
The leathery old man waved dismissal, cocked an ear and told him, "No rain this mornin'. Care to ride with an olester today? I kin show you some a' the land outside the Walls."
Had he heard about the escape attempt from yesterday? With the others still asleep, and no claims on his time today, yet, a riding tour of the landscape by the eldest Lon sounded like just the excursion he needed. To fly over the grass on Epona's back, spotting for something to track, spoor trails to follow, Link felt a hunter's excitement bubbling under his breastbone. He would not be confined to a ring this morning!
The riding track through the orchards was nice, too, he had to admit, and there was something about this thought that tickled a memory. The orchards. Zephane. He hardly felt like backing out of the tentative peace offering, but the proposal of a dawn ride was nearly irresistible.
"Could we go out a little later? Before noon?" Link negotiated. The rain had stopped, after all.
Gerick considered, mulling, "Well, guess we could wait. Get some coffee, talk up the pards, git some breakfast and coffee…" He mumbled as he shambled away, but he turned back when he reached the doorframe. "See ya at the gate afore noon." His wobbly smile held the same conspiracy as Link and Navi were sharing privately.
Understanding the colloquial time signature, Link pulled a clean, grassy tunic from him stash, tied his belt and small blade to his waist, then dug through his pack, fingers searching fired clay…there! He handled Saria's ocarina carefully, but confidently, and deposited it into his little pouch on his belt, along with his newest acquisition, the bottle of red potion. Navi only eyed him speculatively, but he secretively motioned for her to follow, pausing to push heels into socks and boots, and survey the snoring sleepers again.
He was late, this morning's sunrise beating him by an hour, and he still enjoyed the damp, sunlit world, though the sun was a wan, pale orb through lacey veils. Tendrils of fog had vanished, but left the moisture clinging to grass, and soon, Link's booted feet and legs, and spattering his tunic hem. His heart raced, ever approaching his destination, the soon-to-bear fruit trees.
No sign of the girl he invited, so far.
A few rows into the stately trees, he chose a likely looking peach that was gnarled by wind and time, the blossoms fading, but the smell was pleasant this morning as he sat on a large root, and Navi settled for studying these engineered masterpieces.
Link withdrew the ocarina, ignoring those fingerprints today, and put his lips to the mouthpiece. A rush of air from his lungs rushed through the body, and a fweet echoed. Link held back on another attempt, a more reasonable tone sounded, closer to ones Saria produced. His thumbs found two holes on the back of the instrument, and the next breath made an even pitch that fulfilled him. He knew the finger holes on the top could be covered and released in melody, but just how to do so was beyond him at the moment. Tootling and puffing, and trying not to feel embarrassed at the experimentation, Link was consoled that no one was around to hear his amelodical fumblings.
The sun was climbing higher, and Link had deduced by now that his positioned fingers created the variety of notes, and his steady breath forced by diaphragm was more rewarding than bursts from his upper lungs. Even with the discoveries, Link's instinctual understanding of music was truly just instincts. He needed someone to show him how to…he didn't even have a term for putting the notes in order, and the random assemblage of tweets contained no perspective. There were musicians among the Lon Clan, and he knew if he asked, he would be given their knowledge as freely as the Smiths and Weavers volunteered insights into their craft. But would any of them be familiar with the Kokiri instrument?
The fowlery in the distance was a low, brown shape in the grass, but he could see a tiny red-clothed blonde shape in relief against the dark building, along with the other more-adult shapes of Clan members working. The little figure left the presence of her morning chore, into the diffuse light of a promise, parting the grass as she progressed to the orchards, close enough for Link to notice her studious stare seeking him and his blue spark. He waited, eyes slit, motionless, camouflaged by his grass-colored wardrobe and blond head. She wandered much further than he, scouring the outside trees for him until she came back, abreast with Link's row. Zephane's mouth was tight in a frown.
"Morning," he said simply, relaxing and melting away from his hidden attitude. The girl jumped, accosted that he was right in front of her, and she didn't see him!
"But I was looking for you!" She stomped, surprise turning to fear and loosing tongue. "Was that an invisible spell? Did you cast another one on me?" Zephane accused, righteous, fingers twitching to her brow.
Taken aback, Link ticked until he could object darkly, "I cast no spells, Zephane. I'm not a magician. And the Children of the Forest are masters of Hide-n-Seek." Her hackles were still prickling, mouth twisting. "I only wished to share Lore, as your family has." Her repugnance redoubled in a disgusted eye roll. "I invited you to show you something special to me." Feeling her interest, he added, "You'll be the first Hylian to see."
"Really? Are you sure Malon hasn't seen it first?"
What was this jealousy over the Hylian woman? Navi this morning- "And now her," the fairy commented privately. "Pretend you think of Malon as a guardian."
But why?
"That's going to take a lot of explanation, but for now, try to appeal to the girl's selfishness."
Navi shook his tree of ideals, and made him think that he didn't really know what he felt towards Malon, never having precedent in a forest of children. He was fond of her, and watching her last night seemed…amazing. He wondered what fruit would be born from all this, returning to Zephane from the reverie that took no time at all.
"I would have shown her, but…" He trailed off, a little theatrical for his taste, but reeling in the girl's waxing attention. "The memories were too fresh, and then we were moving, and there were chores to do. After yesterday, I thought you could appreciate my friend's last gift. None of the other kids, maybe not even Mullick would really understand."
Zephane was hooked and netted, now. The latent anger was curdling into curiosity, she snipped, "So show me."
Link nodded seriously, holding the little clay body into the air between them.
With a civilized disdain for tribal craft, she observed the ocarina, and like any person, was intrigued by the different standard of beauty, remarking, "It's a bird. But what is it?"
Now smiling, Link held it to his lips and made the bird sing his one-note slew.
Zephane gasped, unable to can the joy of discovery. "A whistle!"
"An ocarina," Navi corrected.
"Oh! I've heard of them," Zephane shrugged smoothly. "They're popular in the north, I think. I've never heard them. Tin whistles are all we have out here." She paused, a shred of shadow pouncing on her smile. "What's so special about it?"
Secretly choking on her rudeness, he related, "It was the last gift from my friend in the forest. She was the one who taught me how to be Kokiri, raised me."
Zephane's pretty blue eyes clouded, and her sympathy was palpable. "You loved her. Like a mother."
"Saria was a friend. The only real friend I had." Link made the admonition to the bark on the tree, breaking the gaze between his and her blue eyes. "When I left, she told me I would have become her apprentice, and I would have learned music."
"But you must have had other friends!" Zephane snorted, but Link sat in serious silence. "You were different there, too, weren't you?"
"Navi came to be my companion only when I left. Everyone else's fairy comes to them when they are born."
They both paused to watch the fairy hovering in the canopy, inspecting infant fruits and late flowers, the wind in the grass the sole soundtrack for the moment. The dewy grass was dry, now.
"I wish I knew more about my instrument," Link said. "I don't even know how to make its voice change."
"Notes," Zephane contributed eagerly. "Notes in the scale."
"Scale? Like on fish?"
"No, like the…" Zephane trailed off, obviously at the limits of her own secondhand knowledge. "The way the notes fit together, that's a scale. It starts high or low, and they have an order."
"High and low, of course," Link reveled. He removed his thumbs from the back, and produced a single high note. In the middle of his breath, he replaced his digits and the note changed! Excited, he went back and forth between the higher and lower pitches. Link's fingers were covering the other holes, finding new combinations of notes, and discerning where they might fit in the scale. His guest was engrossed in his efforts, and Zephane cocked her head, offering whether a note sounded sour in the scale, and Link would revise his fingering.
"La la la la…" She hooted with him, walking the line from high to low, over and over again, until they both felt the order of positions was correct. It would take Link much longer from this point to memorize those positions, but it was a step down a new path, and the enmity Zephane exuded earlier disappeared in the novelty of a music lesson, stunted though her Lore was.
Navi finished her study of the orchards surrounding the pair, and gave Link a mental reminder that the sun was nearing its zenith.
"Gerick promised me a ride today, outside Homestead. Would you join us?" Link asked earnestly, even as he stowed Saria's ocarina.
"I would like to, but I have other chores to tend," Zephane said responsibly, rising from her place on the short grass and brushed the debris away with delicate motions.
"Thank you, for your guidance today," the Kokiri bowed slightly, and was rewarded with a Lon's sunny smile.
"Until our next lesson, wild boy," Zephane teased as she left him and his peach tree.
Following her footsteps for no particular reason, Link walked till his feet took him to the Longhouse, where the empty room of the Lons awaited. Stomach finally requesting food, Link gratefully prized some bread from the familial box, and a few slices of dried pear from his own stores. He sat happily on the bed, munching a meager breakfast. He would play music, someday, the corners of his crumby lips curling.
"Not just play," Navi floated directly before his face. Her own features were intense, as if she concentrated, trying to remember something. "You're going to invent music."
What? "What does that mean? Music already exists!"
She stared.
"Navi? What does it mean?" Panic was starting to flutter behind his ribcage.
Navi shook her head as if she was shedding water. "It's gone."
Is this going to happen often? The dream, decorating…What is this? He implored, then finishing the forgotten food in his hands.
"Part of being a fairy," she said, though he tasted secret in her admission when he swallowed.
So. He wasn't meant to know. That rubbed against his grain, and the slow simmer of resignation burbled in his liver. There was an excursion waiting for him.
His spear was still leaning against the wall where he placed it on the first night, the long, whippy shape familiar in his fingers. The stone head, chipped of glassy obsidian, was still whole and unmarred, and definitely well set into the shaft by tight sinew, Link decided as he inspected the weapon. He dug a thong from his pack, securing the spear across his back in a twist of the leather string. As an afterthought, Link withdrew his instrument from his waist pouch, replaced it in his pack with only a little regret and left the Longhouse for the stables.
Horse filled his nose, the hay and dung odor he'd come to love, and associate with Epona, the little mare.
"Hi girl," Link hailed when he came to her stall. She whinnied, nosing him for a treat, or reminding him he'd missed the morning ride. "I know I'm late." He stroked her face, and tousled the hair of her white mane. "I'll make up for it." He produced a piece of dried fruit and let her lips it from his hand before he unlatched the stall door, allowing the horse into the corridor, and shut the mechanism with a quiet, well-oiled click. Navi hung in the air beside his ride.
He threw a leg over Epona's back, and the mismatched trio set out for the front gates in a quick, excited trot. Homestead was in full swing, men shouting instructions over horses' noise, the pounding ring of the blacksmith's forge, the treble of the fowlery underlying it all, and many in Link's view waved or gave greeting to the recognizable foreigner, to which he responded with a decorous nod. Appeased he worked no foresty meddling, the other adults outside his circle started to accept the strange sight of a chalk-painted boy on their finest horseflesh, followed by his constant bob-along companion, the fairy.
He would visit the blacksmith later, he decided when he moved too far from the hot shack to hear the slam of metal on metal, imagining the Kokiri sword fawned over, inspected and tested, as he had done many times during his journey, but the sword's secrets would speak to those accustomed to metallurgy. So far, it was silent in his hands, even when he thought about his victory over Gohma, or the moment Saria put the implement into his hands. Before the Lons enfolded him into Clan life, on his duo's journey across the plains, he stood for many minutes, trying to feel something, holding the sword en guarde, and feeling very silly. His tool had no use for him, yet.
At that time, Link began to perceive a truth about his life. Navi's cryptic messages, the omen at the smith and a seemingly infinite exposition into Hyrule's culture were all snowballing together in his heart, but the wave did not quite break, stretching his sense of purpose taut. Tight like a leather string in a pulling match, the elasticity of his reality was tested. What he was supposed to do, or wanted to do or where it was going to happen had yet to be revealed. Navi's plan to visit the Old Ones was notwithstanding, if only because they hadn't planned any part of it.
Link was shifting his view about the events with the Deku Tree, too, and it was no coincidence to him anymore. The configuration of his life made it too easy for a lone Child of the Forest to leave the forest, and have no real reason to look back, armed with a sword of legend and a nebulous quest with his companion. It will be interesting, I think, to see where this path winds. And the onus of his destiny dropped away again, for a time, and the world of the Clan returned to his senses.
The Gatekeeper was still in his chair, though Link was sure he changed shifts during the night. He seemed to remember the frizzy haired, leather-clad Gatekeeper singing bawdy ballads at the fire the previous evening. A few hours between him and sunrise put a night of his imbibe into the past, and it was with a fresh smile he called out to the boy, "Gerick and Ingo are outside, awaitin'." He obviously approved of Link's outing now. "I hear ya tried the Ring. Hope it suited you, and won't hold it against me fer barrin' ya yesterday."
"Of course not. I may have been back before the rain, but I do not know the terrain," Link assuaged, while the man pulled aside the heavy doors. "You must know," he said as he trotted abreast to the doors and man. "I'm Link, and this is Navi."
"I'm Darine." Simply put, they shook hands and Link passed through the other side to the open plains. "Return safely."
"Aye," Link spouted over his shoulder, and let Epona carry him into the grass to where Gerick and his unexpected guest were checking their own mounts for tight-fixed straps and possible dangers, like scratches or cast shoes, as any responsible rider would do before an excursion. They were buffeted by the wind on the hillock, but the men born to it gave no heed to its smells and sounds that were carried on zephyr currents. Away from the ranch, Link was refreshed to put his nose to the breeze, and found the fresh scents of grass and scrubby trees and dirt filling him with the grandiose heart-swell of Hyrule's endless, rolling field. It was good to be out, Link breathed deeply of the freedom before joining the party proper on the Lon lawn. He and Navi were surprised to see the abrasive brother of Talon, even with Darine's warning.
"What kept ya?" Gerick called out good-naturedly as he heaved his aged legs over the back of his dusty mare, groaning with the effort.
What else could he say? "Practicing music."
"Oh? Ya sing?" Ingo seemed to jest, though his signature acid still dripped from the words.
"I'd have to drink more than last night to sing again," Link alluded. "I have an ocarina from the forest."
"You'll have to play us a lick," Gerick requested. Ingo made a noise, but only as he mounted Honey. His uncle gave him a look, but they let it pass.
"I'm only just learning," Link sighed.
"Well, when you're a little more proficient, yew can show off," Gerick chuckled, this youngin' with an inexhaustible Lore of his home, but saddled with an instrument he couldn't play. Ingo managed a satirically magnanimous gesture for them to set out on their excursion.
They rounded the southern stretch of palisade, down the dip in the landscape to a shallow bottom filled by a small, sparse copse of wimpy sycamores. Trilling water bugs and peep-toads sang in the moist place.
"There's 'nother peahat burrow here," Gerick expanded, pre-rheumy eyes searching for the hole in the ground. "They breed in wet spring seasons, shootin' a tiny spore-baby inta the wind, carried on gauzy wings. Where they land, they dig down into the loose, wet earth. Eventually, they get bigger, big enough to need more space, and food larger'n the muddy creepers that slide on past, so they flail and dig out a hole for prey to fall into." He stopped his horse cautiously, pointing a knobby digit at the void in the grass and dirt. "We don't rout 'em out, though. Do a valuable service for the trees. Since they like it a little wet, the water pools in the lil caverns they carve, and tree roots will reach down a long ways for the treat. Even in emergencies, peahats can save ya, or provide a well when a farmer needs one."
Link instantly approved as he studied the surroundings, memorizing details about this peahat's needs and benefits, and indeed, the grove of patchy-barked trees were growing in a radiating pattern that told of the secret water source. "When I first joined you," he began, looking into Gerick and Ingo's faces in equal turn. "I imagined you uprooting acres of fiber plants for the teepee cloth, or running beasts like cattle off cliff sides in terrible waste. I saw Talon taking advantage of a landscape, and I thought the people imagined themselves above it, separated from the plants and animals of the world." Ingo was ready to pounce, but Gerick hushed the impulse with another look. Link persisted, as he and Navi watched the trembling leaves of the sycamores. "You are still connected to your world, through your farming and horses and cows. It's a beautiful relationship."
"And one that a less-connected Hyrule relies on," Ingo spewed.
"Ingo," Gerick's voice no long quavered, but was a threatening bell. "I asked you to come. You didn't have to."
The lean man's angry face was tight, but he let some of the venom drain from his shoulders and he directed Honey away from the little trees. Gerick saw no reason to apologize for Ingo, and the group moved northward through the scenery with a diminished air.
A few hundred yards in the distance, big stretches of lawn were leveled and cleared to the dirt in more rows of vegetation where Link could see some more men and women in protective straw hats working tools. They were the Outer Fields, where fodder and fiber plants extended plumes and kernels to the sky. A neat rill dug into the earth brought water, and boys and brawny lasses ferried buckets at a time to relieve both plants and people from thirst. Though the sun was still firmly behind his shade of clouds, the impetus of summer was upon them. Soon, the Middle of Summer would brow-beat every Lon and child in waves of heat and dry air. For now, the breeze was just cool.
Beyond the fields and over another hill, Gerick stopped his beast abreast with Ingo, and Link dutifully fell into line. It was the horizon, nothing different striking either him nor Navi until Gerick emphasized the slight, shaded hue of the lower sky.
"Another storm?" Navi asked, but Link could tell she was waiting for some kind of confirmation.
"Nope," He yapped. "That's the Death Mountain Ranges. They say that only the Shadow Folk were crazy enough to live in the Big Mountain's lee."
"Shadow Folk?" Link questioned, glancing sidelong to Navi, who shrugged.
"Heh, yew'd be lucky to ever meet one," Ingo grumbled softly. "They all died for the crown in the war."
"And the crown is what rules the Royal Family?" Link unsurely posed.
"That's what the ruler wears, to show he is the ruler," Navi counter-pointed before Ingo. "Get this kid straight, yet." Navi said gently, sending the feeling that she was going to say something and he needed to go along with her. "I mean, the crown ruling?" Ingo almost responded, inhaling as if to gather breath for a statement, but his exhale held a note of finality. She knew to let it lie, and came back to Link's shoulder.
The group on horseback made a sunwise circle around the palisade of the ranch, the Camps of Cattle held in sprawling pens around the western side, and Link was surprised to recognize particular groups of cattle, and not only by the distinctive branding. He traveled with them, after all, he mused, and all animals were individuals. Gerick chose to pass by without much inspection to the cattle they trundled behind, offering a friendly wave to Gellum and his children that spanned a few generations. They stopped their chores to wave, but couldn't bestow too much attention for the sake of the needy beasts. One boy, tall as a man but not yet filled out, was quite enthusiastic, and his eyes were wholly devoted to watching the Forest Boy's procession, jumping his frisky stallion over hillocks and brush.
His horse stumbled. Link gasped, reached out in startled sympathy, but from a distance, there was nothing he could do as the youth flew rump over head and crumpled onto the sod in a tangled, broken heap. His thin moan burbled to a stop almost as soon as it began.
There was no time, no sound, no import to the tasks of men rushing around Link, dazed to the event before him, and the unsettling numbness in his heart bit at his liver. Bile rose again, and with a hard swallow, tears squeezed from his glacially blue eyes, and his bitter throat was tight. They were putting the ragdoll boy on a litter, Gellum lumbering behind them on his twisted leg, his own, luckier badge from a horsing incident, and another set of people followed him, grieving as he was stoic. There were tears on Link's face, hot, heavy tears that burned like the bile in his gullet, but there was no time for him to comprehend. So quickly a life could leave a body, and how unexpected. Suddenly, the horse beneath him didn't seem so desirable.
"You wouldn't show off like him," Navi said quietly in his head. "And accidents happen, Link. There was nothing we could do."
So what can we do? He posed numbly, hunching his shoulders and resting his chin on his chest to relieve the tightness of his esophagus. Nothing helped. Nothing would ever help, he projected darkly, features brewing in melancholy.
"That's enough," she said sternly, but he could feel her consolation too, warming behind the ears. "You haven't fallen in with these people under these circumstances to throw away an important lesson because you were selfish and angsty."
"What lesson?" he blurted aloud.
"Think on it. Suddenly, you're doubting your own horse because someone else couldn't foresee what his actions would cost him," Navi was surveying the party's retreat to Homestead, flapping to keep up when Gerick decided to move the foursome behind the anguished procession. Ingo was with those most troubled, directing his Clan mates as well as Talon would have. "You wouldn't be afraid of your spear because a deer fell to it, right? Irresponsible use of a tool, even a horse – you saw he wasn't being mindful – can spiral out of control. Don't cast your spear when there's someone in your path. Weigh your actions, decide what you want out of the trade. Was it worth it for him to go through all that parading and jumping?"
He seemed happy.
Navi rolled her eyes. "Happiness is a room without a roof until it starts to rain."
Link pondered that, and then gazed at his friend. "Are you happy, Navi?"
"Me? Does it matter?"
"To me."
"Alright." She was silent, and he could make out the pensive shifting of her fingers. "I guess this is the most interesting thing I've been involved with, and a lifetime of forest discoveries couldn't measure up to everything I've seen just this past month." She and he locked eyes. "There are big things starting to take shape, and the world is whispering to us sprites. I'm not sure, yet, how we fit into the big puzzle, but the more we learn, the more we see, the more you experience, we're moving towards an end that, somehow, is going to encompass all of it."
He opened his mouth to object, but she beat him to the punch. "I'm happy, yes, most of the time. When you're not moping about the futility of your options, you can be downright witty and delightful." Her ironic, impish smile didn't diminish the real love radiating from her. "Obedience to necessity is rewarding."
Necessity?
"Always questions with you. A spirit of the world, an extension of the very lifeforce, assigned me a task. There are shades and degrees to his understanding of the motions of time than we will ever comprehend. It must be important."
And while Navi's words were like balm to his less-troubled heart, that peculiar truth and onus seemed a little heavier than before, and it took the whole ride back through the gates of Homestead for the clouds in his mind and in the sky to clear and make way for the brilliant yellow sun.
