The sun-beaten procession of rolling shelters creeping along the dusty prairie left its signature wide swath in the grass extending west from Homestead, but the train picked up a well-established road half way through the day of their departure, turning north. Countless wheels, hooves and feet had worn a bright yellow dirt rut through the dry sod, and clouds of dust followed the caravan like wraiths. Riders and runners splayed out in front, the cattle plodding along the western side in their sinuous river of bodies.
Link and Navi were settling in the back of the Lon wagon, comfortable for the day's coming progress and watching the green and gold grass pass by when a jogging figure drifted behind their ride.
It was Mullick. "Haloo! Mind if I hop in?"
Link smiled, but looked at Navi.
"What? He's your friend," she thought at him with a shove to his mind.
"Come on," Link gave Mullick his grip, pulled him up into the moving wagon, and they flopped down in the carpet-padded space between the storage crates of the family. Together again, Link reflected, the beginning and end of another circle. "I'm sorry."
"Huh? Fer what?" Mullick cocked his head.
"Well, we hardly saw each other in Homestead, and Zephane told me-"
"To hang out with the kids?" he finished smugly. "We heard. And I, well, the rest of us, really wanna see yer ocarina, but there was other stuff for you to do at the ranch. They kept us busy with chores anyway."
They both smiled widely, though neither boy mentioned Mullick's habit of disappearing once work was found, or having this last week of travel to bond.
It was two creaking leagues outside of the Lon territory when they began to see small, private farms dotting the open fields, plowed rows checkering the prime-soiled swells of land. Stringy herds of Lon stock ranged behind fencing, though the brandings on their flanks were decidedly different than the symbols Link knew. They were the purchases of past Market sales, or personal deals. Pigs, the unseen sources of the smoky, salty bacon were kept in pens and compounds far from the road.
Children of all sizes ran to the fences alongside the highway as the Lon caravan passed, ogling the fine mounts of the ranchers and the laden trucks of food and houseware. Many pointed when they saw Link's foreign painted face emerge from the lead wagon, but a stoic nod or half-smirk and wave were all he was willing to lend. Unless they were passing through open country, Link did not ride his young mount that trotted easily behind the trestle. He had since been gifted with cow tallow and ground chalk to make new paint for his applications, his identity as Kokiri and Hylian proudly displayed. Swipes of white flared across his cheeks, stark against a Lon-like tan, a stripe on his forehead, and matching lines across his forearms. His hair was nearly tamed, pulled into a horsetail, though most of the strands at the front of his scalp escaped the binding and hung to his temples. A single braid over his left eye bore a tiny green bead secured at the end.
Mullick revealed to Link they were chugging along the Northern Track, and the Lon's map was procured. The boys and the fairy spent the lurching hours studying the paper and began to learn the lay of the land.
The sweeping plain of Hyrule was the largest area on the map, illustrated in half-moon undulations. A pinky-nail sized space near the center of the field represented Homestead, and the bottoms and dales of their territory radiated from the ranch. Despite the prescribed three weeks of travel from Cottonwood Camp to Market Town, the Lons occupied only a tiny fraction of the prairie's resources, and much more of the land was endowed to farmers under the guidance of landlords or baronies. It was the scale of the Lon Clan's extended family, their prestigious tract of land, and massive herds of cattle that truly made them the crowning jewel of the agricultural heartland.
The main road to Market was peppered with the dots representing little towns, like Farmington, Gondo and the Caravan Flats directly to the north. Smaller roads split away from the Northern Track, and Mullick showed them spiderleg traces that spread to the west through the hamlets of Stonesdale, Iza and Henya, and the conventional eastern boulevards trickled past Upper Cawlin and Legumetane.
The squiggly line of the Zora River, the main water source for many villages, including the Market and Castle District, was a very loose, soggy banked course that hemmed the northern border of the plain until it collided with the western tail of the Death Mountain Range. It cut into the stone, turned south and seethed through a narrow canyon and drained into the basin of Lake Hylia, forming the natural boundary between Hylian and Gerudo territory.
"And here, northeast of Town is Kakariko Village on the Dead Plateau," Mullick said ominously, and pointed to the soft hill-shapes toward the top of the map. "It's at the foot of the Death Mountains." His finger swished over the jagged triangles dominating the northlands.
"They couldn't pick a nicer name?" Navi pondered, not for the first time, absorbing the patterns of the mountains that represented the hat of Hyrule.
"Well, nothin' grows on the mountains themselves and no Hylians have ever lived up there for long," recounted the boy who could read. "Plus, it's a active volcano, and I hear lava's so hot, you'd burst into flame 'fore it even touches you."
"How can the Gorons stand it?" Link asked, bracing for a particularly jostling bounce of the cart on the hard-packed dirt road.
"My dad says they're stone people, so they don't melt," said Mullick.
"But lava melts stone. It is melted rock," Navi punctured his theory from her frictionless station in the air.
"They're magical," the Lon boy countered.
"That's particularly convenient," Link muttered softly. "So why is it called the Dead Plateau? Does the lava reach this place?"
"It's where all the Royal Family members are buried," Mullick told them. "The village is very far from the volcano, and I think there were also stories about people who worshipped death or something."
"Huh. Creepy," Navi brushed the air with her fingers and tiny feet landed on the left side of the map, resting her dragonfly wings. "What about the west?"
"The field goes on and on until the canyon," Mullick slicked back his hair, grateful for the breeze of motion. "The Gerudo live in the desert on the other side. There's lots of sand and no water, except for oasises. Talon might be able to tell you more, but there ain't too much on that side of Hyrule."
The southern reaches of the world were populated by numerous lakes, the largest of which being Lake Hylia, the massive catchall for the Zora River in the western corner of the wet county. Marsh Borough was one of the few towns that straddled the distance between the lakes and Kokiri Forest. Another set of gentler mountains snaked around the lower lands and made an impassive barrier, except for a few choice passes, to the South Sea. No one in living memory knew what lay beyond the sea despite the sleek sailing vessels built of tough, northern wood.
Suddenly, Link perceived the folly of this map: it was indeed a woefully incomplete picture of the territory outside of Hylian settlement. The desert of the west and the forest to the east were vast, unmarked swatches on the parchment, showing little aside from the designs demarcating sand or trees. He could shed light on the inner trails of Kokiri, but the west would have to wait. Even the mountains of the north were a jumble of escarpments, with no identifying characteristics or settlements, labeled only as Goron territory.
Link pulled the lapboard from a crate and settled the map on the hard surface, and dug back into the box for the ink and quill. He secured the little black bottle in the crook of his knee and dipped the tip of the quill into the mouth, hoping the wagon would stay steady enough for him to work. Then, unconcerned about scale, as he doubted anyone with this map would actually have reason to go into Kokiri, he made a keyhole shape in the very center of the woods, extending the tail southwest. He would get Mullick to label the Deku Tree's Meadow and the Old Forest, though he chose not to mark the resting place of the Kokiri Champion. The Stream crawled past the Clearing, and he also filled in with the other waterways in the northern forest, memories flashing. Homesickness reared, and the dwellings of his estranged Brothers and Sisters, the smell of undergrowth and loam, and the rustling of boughs were as clear in his senses as the landscape he was passing through now. He made some more changes, sketching the hunting grounds of the south and the thin strip of beach at the far east. The remainder of the blank space that skirted the domain of the Zoras at the northwest corner of Hyrule represented the dangerous miasma of the Lost Woods. He knew of no landmarks worthy of note, and marked the border to delineate its difference from Kokiri proper.
The map and lapboard were passed to Mullick, and Navi watched as he set down the characters to make Link's designs identifiable. Carefully, the fairy's eidetic memory picked up the symbols' meaning, though how they made it so was beyond her skill. She communicated to her partner, "We need to learn to read. You know what a disadvantage it is to have to rely on the literate to tell us what words mean?"
Link sighed with the weight of assignment. Of course he needed to read. He'd been amongst the civilized long enough to realize how important stationary words were to these people.
"Can you teach us, Mullick?" Navi asked from behind the strawberry blond boy.
"What, letters? Sure," he promised in an instant. "If yer tired of this wagon, we'll round up the kids and teach you the alphabet. That's where it starts, so you know what letter makes which sound."
"Well, we did go over everything on the map," Link acknowledged, ready to get up and move. The carpets were soft enough, but did little to ease the ruts and rattles of the road.
In childish whim, the trio hopped from the bed of the vehicle, and let Mullick skim the following wagons for his troupe. He and Navi waited by the side of the road out of the caravan's path. Pino and Pina, the young auburn twins, Gernum, the dark little boy, and Dilly, the round girl, came to help their estranged companion, mewling greetings excitedly.
"Link! We miss playing plants with you," Dilly said as soon as she approached. "I like flowers, but I really want to find eatable plants again."
"Edible," Link corrected, absently detaching Pino and Pina from his arms. "Well, I can teach you more, but I need to learn something from you first,"
"What! What can we do?" came the disjointed chorus.
The Kokiri settled to one knee, conferring with the youngsters on their own level. His heart warmed with the kids' obvious affection shining in their eyes. "Will you help Navi and me with our letters? I told you, we didn't read in the forest."
The troupe around Link exploded into a whirlwind of data about the characters and noises of their language.
"Hush for a minute!" Mullick shushed and the flock parted around Link as the older boys took charge. "Now, as we walk, we'll run through the alphabet, and Link, once you know where things are, you jump in line." The row of unruly chicks assembled and marched sloppily beside the wagons, each singing a letter in turn. Bemused and paying attention, Link marveled again at the uninhibited Lon largesse, and the ping of homesickness lessened by a few degrees. Who could tell where he'd eventually make a home?
"You'll be quite the decorator…" Navi's words seared across his brain, and just as quickly disappeared in the corner of things to be remembered later as the children's chanting extracted his concentration.
At the end of the day, when the protective pen enfolded the cattle and balance of horses, family fires were lit with the plentiful dried dung and collected firewood, and Link was reciting the sequence of consonants and vowels backwards at Mullick's behest. He swallowed back a nervous smile while Talon and Malon listened attentively as the Kokiri spun the sounds from his mouth into the cloth of the night.
"That is amazing," Malon said, chewing her herb-rubbed steak and suckled a fingertip. "You learned it only a few hours ago, and you can recite it any which way to the new moon."
"It's like a story, but in sounds, and next, I'll learn the picture that accompanies the story. And once I know those, words will be mine, and no one will have to read for me." Link delivered his promise gravely, though his heart felt lighter as his brain took in more and more information. He hoped he would never stop learning, grinning openly, and dug into his plate supplemented with fresh-harvested vegetables.
In Navi's private heart, she shivered, and ached for the trials that would surely teach him the lessons only he would have to learn.
Link was helping himself to a seasoned steak and reciting the Hylian alphabet again when Allain Dyer and her sister Weavers stood at the edge of Talon's family fire, each bearing a brown leather package. The young brunette was smiling ear to ear as Link bid them to join the family at the hearth.
"The Weaver Clan has completed the fabric you requested, and we took the liberty of constructing garb for your journeys, with a little room to grow, I hope," she added and began unwrapping the package she held, barely containing her anticipation as she fumbled a bit. "Malon told us you don't like breeches, so the cut of the tunics will be a little longer." Allain unveiled a lush green tunic that flared at the hips and half sleeves hung in lovely folds. The rest of the ladies revealed an array of tunics in similar shades, some trending towards deep evergreen and others fading to a willow-leaf silver, each cut in varying styles, from light summer-wear to long sleeved and heavy wool for colder seasons.
Absently putting his plate on the ground, Link held out his hands and his fingers could feel the fine weave of the flaxen fabric, and when he inspected more closely, he saw the seams had been embroidered in tiny curling vines and leaves.
"They're perfect!" He breathed, the half a dozen garments overwhelming in their finery, and his stomach knotted. All this effort on his behalf was a new and sharp sensation, and he wanted to be gracious, but the hard lump beneath his liver pressed against spine, and seemed to chew him from the inside.
"To accompany your new tunics, we have a few other gifts."
"Allain," Link complained. "I can't pay you, and you didn't need to-"
"Pfft. You'll be a walking advertisement for Lon fabrics. Just tell everyone where you got your fancy clothes!" she winked. "Now, here's two belts, one light and this one is dark, tooled leather." Both thin whips of leather were gorgeously embossed with strong square lines, the contrasting designs far more apparent on the darker belt. He snaked the belts through his hands until he reached the glittering silver buckles and his heart was in his dry, dusty throat as he imagined wearing the corners smooth and letting the clean notches farther out as he grew. Growing was a concept new to him, but the menagerie of Lon youngsters gave him a glimpse at what the future would hold for his body.
"Thank you," he croaked sincerely, wishing she would stop.
"Oh, but you haven't seen the best of all!" Allain gushed, producing one more package and handed it to Link. He slowly pulled a leather lace from the dark hide and knees shaking, handled the single most exceptional silk shirt he'd ever seen. He was sure the sun would make the emerald tunic glow like the summer afternoon beneath the Old Forest canopy, and the shadows matched the deepest hues found in the undergrowth of the Lost Woods. Embroidery exploded from the collar across the chest in fern and spiral patterns, too symmetrical to be natural, but indicative of Lon fashion. Trees, swirling, bushy shapes and roots extended to the bottom hem in a balanced distribution of design.
Allain picked the leather up from the ground, brushing a few bits, and held it out to the young man who was still entranced by his gift and his amorphous discomfort. "This is a cape for your shoulders. This brooch will keep it closed." A final offering of Lon craftsmanship, she gave him the dark dyed hide and a bone medallion carved with a miniature horse against similar tree shapes like those on his tunic.
"This isn't necessary, Allain," Link told her plainly. "I've survived thirteen years in the Forest on my own, and this is…" He couldn't force himself to compare it to the last ritual he witnessed in Kokiri.
"Would Saria agree with that?" Navi pierced from her habitual place at his shoulder. He gasped, stricken.
"I didn't mean it like that, it's just," Link fished for a rebuttal. "Maybe I'm not used to people giving me things, and so much at once." He pulled away, embarrassed and he quivered with a tremor of panic. The adults were closing in, and despite their compassion, all he wanted was to fade into the background again, to not relive these circular moments, but they were determined to comfort him. He straightened with a shakier breath than he felt inside, and announced, "Thank you, Dyer Clan. Thank you, uh, Tailors and anyone else who worked to make this fantastic gift of clothing. I am grateful to you, and all of the Lon Clan for your generosity."
Talon stepped up beside the youth. "Allain, you are a credit to the Lon name, and the gifts spun from your family's hands require no debt from their receiver."
Link looked from patriarch to dyer, the secretive grins on their firelit faces and felt the rehearsed rhythm of Talon's line. "You knew about this."
"Of course we did!" Malon clapped. "Glad you figured it out, but we couldn't let you go out into the world without proper gear. There'll be a lot more to come, too." She was there beside Link, carefully embraced the Kokiri boy to her side and kissed his painted forehead. Link's eyes popped open, his stream of consciousness dammed.
"You're so diplomatic, Link," Malon giggled, still holding him near. "Call it a soft spot, or maybe Talon's going senile, but our gifts to you can never outweigh the truth you've revealed to us."
"You mean, my Lore from the forest is enough?" They broke apart slowly.
Hesitating, the red head bobbed in silent affirmation. "More than you know."
Navi sensed something more behind Malon's words, and she was glad for Link's unease with charity, meaning he probably wouldn't probe the Lon's reasoning deeply. But she was not so easily satisfied with their munificence, and resolved to have those conversations with Malon she'd been putting off for too long.
Talon was next, and he grabbed Link in a bear hug, patting him with a meaty hand. "You've become a son of the Lon Clan, Link." He pulled back, locking his brown, weathered eyes with Link's hard, blue eyes. "You will always have a place in Hyrule to call your home, whenever you may need it."
This was too much, and Link was wrung out with happiness, but these people accepted him despite all differences, and celebrated those very things that set him apart from the people who raised him. He could no more look away from Talon's gaze than stop breathing, and he just wanted to run out into the starlit prairie.
Farmington was the first town on the list of the Northern Track the Lon caravan passed through on the journey to Hyrule's Market Town, and aside from Homestead's grandness, it was the first town of paved roads, two-story buildings and steeples raised to Nayru which Link was going to see. When they traveled for two days, it was a grey smudge on the horizon, then a small thunderhead perched on the cusp of the world, and finally grew into a tangle of aging wood, a hulking mass of wooden buildings that loomed on the prairie in the distance. A stubby palisade of timbers topped with multicolor pennants surrounded the village. Taking advantage of a singular upheaval of the landscape, the largest and most ornate edifices sat atop the rounded hill to overlook their flock, houses spreading in concentric clusters and mildly terraced roads were worn into the rise.
"They must be taller than trees!" Link snorted to Navi beside his ear, neither smiling nor frowning as he traced the spindles and weathervanes of the skyline. "How do they build them so high?"
"With strong frames," came Talon's answer from the front seat of the wagon. Taking his own turn at driving the placid team of horses, he was more than happy to chatter on about the upcoming visit. "They start with a basement, a foundation, and build a hollow box with tall timbers until it's as high as they need, and then put facing planks and frills on the outside, so it looks nice. The insides are like two platforms within that frame. You'll see when we get there. Most of them buildings have a stone base, rocks dug up from clearing the fields and imported from quarries. I told ya about quarries, where they pry away huge chunks of rock. Used to be a Goron industry, but they ain't been sellin lately. Farmington has been here since before the war, but these structures are new, since the drought and those fires of war ate the original settlement." Talon itched his nose. Link imagined he could still smell the smoke of the malicious flames. "Recovery went well, though. There's enough good farmland around to support so many people and a healthy trade network, and that helps our business, too. They usually buy the last of our stock when we pass back through at the end of the season. The Lons have married some of the Officers of Farmington, so we have a little say on prices for the year, but uh, that's between us, huh." He bounced his gut, and knew Link wouldn't mention such a fact anyway. The boy was shrewd with his secrets.
The vehicle trundled peaceably on the maintained roadway, and the clopping of hooves signaled a switch from dry clay to grey stone beneath them.
"They'll have seen us by now," He imparted more as activity flourished atop the surrounding wall. "I sent some runners ahead, and uh, the Officers will have quarters prepared for me and mine. And you. In fact. Um." Talon seemed to cough, though he gazed at Navi with such intention.
What were they planning? Link couldn't help but worry, and he too, looked to his fairy companion for clarity and relief for Talon's coughing spell.
"I'll just say it: you are going to be received as the Emissary of Kokiri."
"A what?"
"A representative for the population of the Forest."
Link felt his face purpling as he clenched his jaw to keep from shouting. "What have you done? I can't speak for them! I'm never going back, and trade wouldn't work, Hylians can't find the Clearing!" His volume escalated without his notice. "I'm no Wisest. I won't speak for them, not if the Kokiri will never know what is said! And I will not speak for Saria, when it should be Saria herself-"
"Who will not leave the forest?" Navi came directly before him, and instantly saw the barrier of his anger shadowing fear. It was glistening in his blue eyes.
"You're the only person this side of history who knows what the Children are truly like, and you can't be greedy with that Lore. Look at the stories the Lons knew when they met us. This is what we're facing. We're going to be like the Wisest and set some feet down the path of Truth."
Their wills met, not for the first time, and he implored her with his soul-deep feelings of unworthiness, and she showed him her wonder that he could even believe such a thing. Their words were silent, and their hearts were more understanding of each other's, and the images and feelings they passed were sharper and smoother than ever before.
He still thought of himself as the Outcast, the stigmatic outlier of the tribe, for even among the Lons, his link with Navi was proof enough of his difference. And then she bombarded him with glowing recounts of his survival, the sure knowledge of his Lore, the strength of his will, and only when she reminded him that Saria, Talon, Malon, Gerick and Mullick, all had nothing but love for him, and Navi projected her own undeniable, unshakable and tender devotion to him did an answer glimmer. Unworthy? No. Eager to prove himself, absolutely.
"We're all here for you, Link. All of us."
Heart splitting and eyes burning with unshed tears, Link drew a shaky breath, realizing Talon was watching their silent exchange with concerned curiosity. "I just didn't expect…"
"Of course not. It was a surprise. You needed a real occasion for those clothes."
"How long have I been the Emissary?"
Navi glanced at Talon, and both projected nothing but innocence. "About a week."
Link rolled his eyes. "Talon, when did she decide I was doing this?"
"Uh, well, really, I suppose it was sometime about…Er, maybe…the third day you were with us?"
"For nearly a moon, then," Link had to admit Talon's sincere chagrin was refreshing, so it was all clearly Navi's fault. After their communion, he couldn't deny she cared for him, and he accepted this duty she was intent on bestowing upon him, but only so he could plan some kind of revenge.
Kokiri boys and girls must live for the day, as you never know which path your feet will travel. That didn't prevent them from planning elaborate ruses and pranks that were designed to bring the perpetrator around the circle to face him or herself. All of Link's pranks, though, had been failures, and the other Children disdained his efforts to trick them. Navi's pun-ishment would have to be a long, subtle con, not overly complicated, but easily concealed. It would take some serious planning, and he immediately dismissed those thoughts so she wouldn't pick up on anything through their link. Instead, he thought about the forest, and what representing it meant.
When he reflected on his life a little more deeply, Mido was the only Kokiri to pay attention to Link, and taught the Fairyless about strength in a way none of the others could bear. The teasing, ridicule and ostracism were powerful tools, and while it would take many more seasons for the scars left by Mido's tempering to fade, the love and generosity of the Lons was the equalizer in his life's balance. Both were sources of great Lore and lessons, and his path to understanding was ever unfolding.
"What if they ask me about the Story? Which Lady is the Mother of the Forest again?" Link blurted suddenly, an imaginary conversation playing out in his head with some Officer.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it, maybe pretend to misunderstand, and tell them more about the Deku Tree," Talon suggested as they neared the outer barricades.
"I'll be there to help you," Navi assured him. "I know enough Hylian lore now that I'll be able to make a convincing argument."
"Why haven't you told me yet?"
"You're not ready for the knowledge yet. But keep your ears open, and you'll learn a lot, I promise."
Like a newborn calf standing for the first time, or the virgin flight of a scrubby fledgling, trusting Navi came to him faster than it ever had before, and he took it as some kind of control, or derision, accepting it all the same. She knew, however, it was just maturity settling over him like a first snow.
A/N: Thank you for your patience. I have been working on my geography and the scale of my Hyrule. I revised some travel speeds and mileage to keep some kind of consistency. Some towns bear familiar names, and one is an easter egg for a later chapter. There is a map coming, too.
