"The insolence of it all, Father!" hissed the younger Goriyo. "I can't stand them, lying through their teeth-" He was slurping down another glass of orange liquor, snarling from his armchair as he glared at the fire.
"As I've said, barbarians rarely know they are lying. You must master your emotions," the Elder chided sternly from beside the wide bay window overlooking the rolling plain. His arms were locked behind his back. "If we want him to gather the stones under our watch, we must foster the boy and teach him the truth. Work to endear him, my son." The light outlined his solid robed body, blocking his expression from the Younger's view.
"Well, I don't have to like him," the young one pecked.
"As you wish," He gazed into the window. "These next few months will test us all. We must be prepared to make decisions that clash with our instincts if we want to achieve anything. The Hierarchy should have shown you that by now. But above all, you are the one to become the Hero's Shadow."
From his place, he could see the emphatic, tightening smile on his son's thin, sour face, though his own was still darkened. He pressed on. "We've both read the signs of your candidacy from the texts." As if the pages were beneath his fingers, he imagined leafing through the Book of Mudora, and his heart raced with excitement as he recited: "'Young One, from the city atop the hill, thy Soul bears Mark of the Goddess, and thou shall help the Orphan of Farore to seek the Three Stones. Friendship is prodded by the Antagonist." He crossed the plush rug to grab the arms of his son's chair, and his eyes bored into the Youngers', with all the force of prophecy. "It will be you who must escort him to the Gorons, and guide him up Zora's Delta for the Stones. You must attach your spirit to his and fulfill the words in our Mudoric tomes. Play the Mentor, and I shall provide the Antagonist."
"I know that!" He crowed and twisted a fist over the heart of his navy robe. "I know. And I'll win him and his fairy with ease. As soon as Sterling sent his first letter, and I Dreamed of Nayru, and she charged me-" He pushed his father away. He drained his glass again, and at once the young serving boy who stood at attention brought the appropriate bottle and topped off the empty vessel. The Younger smiled cleverly. "I have been reading up, as you asked me, on survival in the mountains and I have plenty of navigation charts to the domain of the Water people. I'll lure him with, ah, what does he call it? Lore?"
The Elder accepted his son's acquiescence, but sneered at his excess. "Our silver brother will be joining us before long, as soon as he's done making an appearance at the Temple, and then he shall tell us all he knows of the boy. I think we should consider ourselves lucky Sterling did not reveal anything more during Bipson's introductions."
"I know you mean me, as well," Chudley chimed in from an armchair set back from the fireplace. The man with auburn curls was placing glass beads on a little board in an old, one-player table game. He removed a few, setting them aside, making a face. "I was merely providing a more central platform for the Practicing Goriyo than either arguments you two put forward." He swiped a few more of the flattened marbles from several intersecting lines. "You will have to recant your vehemence, if you want Link's trust."
"Feh," the Younger brushed the Scholar off. "My allegiance to my father and the shock of a legend come to life will smooth over any heated words."
"You obviously didn't observe him and the Lon woman when Jono said his piece. His eyes could have set fire to the blockhead," Chudley moved a final marker to the center of the board. "You'll need a better excuse than that. And you certainly can't agree with me. You'll have to get creative."
"We got it," slurred the younger man. " 'Oh, youth of the forest, we were mistaken! You are so important, we decided to look past your continuing disrespect for the Goddesses, and we'll show you the light!' There."
"Perhaps the next time the Players come into town, you should have them give you advice on how to monologue. I don't think a brain-damaged pigeon would have taken you seriously," Chudley teased, taking advantage of Goriyo's incendiary mood.
"Are the children done fighting now?" Goriyo barked. His son instantly controlled his verbal tantrum, though the fire held his glowering attention again.
The Younger swirled what was left in his glass. He raked patch of hair under his bottom lip with his teeth. After many minutes of Chudley's game pieces clacking and the fire devouring wood, he said, "Getting back to the woods for the Spiritual Stone of the Forest will be easier than expected."
"You must also realize the power likely to come of his trials." Chudley warned "Farore is generous with Her material gifts. Why, the first Hero was given a veritable arsenal of weapons and magical items! Though, without the Sheikah, this time around may be meager."
"That is true, but he'll have to prove himself to earn each Stone," said the Elder, back at the window. "I wonder if the sword wasn't his only gift for proving himself to be a 'Champion.'"
"My niece already checked his belongings, and did not find the Stone in the pack," Chudley admitted without guilt. He added another piece, and Goriyo was having another glass and mumbling darkly.
"That doesn't mean it is not in his possession," growled the Younger. He drained his cup. "We'll know for sure soon enough. Once he understands I mean to help him to greatness, and the unlimited Lore of the Books to sweeten the covenant will bring him to our breast. In return, I'll learn to use a sling and get some rabbits or something woodsy."
"How barbaric," the Elder complimented with a little levity.
"You'd better hide the bottle, sir," Chudley suggested, and set aside his game, ended in an obvious stalemate. "Before your son decides to practice this new skill and breaks your precious window. See anything interesting?" He came to the Elder, and peered over the man's shoulder, but there were only their reflections on the glass.
The Elder's mustache warped in a sneer, and he chuckled. "The boy is getting a history lesson. So, he did not know of his roots. His fairy must have more knowledge than we thought. She's cunning, the little pest." He shifted to the next pane. "And Bipson is indulging Ballon again. Disgusting. Ah. Carlo is coming."
They turned and with a wave of his hand, Goriyo opened the door for the patiently waiting captain. He knew their ways, and the crafty spell laced in the glass of the building allowed them a unique gaze into the privacy of any room. Why bother announcing himself?
"Welcome, Carlo. Enter," The Hierarchy of Farmington bowed slightly.
"Dinner is going to interesting," Captain Grand purred as he helped himself to a buffet jeweled with bottles. "I'll enjoy the sergeant's misery at being separated from her heart."
"There's no shame to her will," the Younger agreed with liquid, feigned empathy.
Carlo stiffened as he realized Goriyo's inebriation, halting his own glass in midair. "Do you think you'll be presentable for this evening's meal?"
"I've enough time, but you can't fix your masochism, Carlo," He said it with as little respect as he could muster as the serving boy took the glass.
"Curb your son, Elder," Carlo ordered. He drank, and sighed in deep satisfaction. "We all have the same goal, and this opportunity seemed a blessing unto me and my wits. You all know how I've detested my little cousin's corruption by that female, and to send her on the road where bandits and mercenaries roam, well, I'll sleep easily enough once I know Agitha is free from that sinful bitch."
"Won't we all," mocked the intoxicated one.
"Son, calm yourself. We have no quarrel, and Carlo is right: our goals are the same, ultimately. There is little time to prepare before the Claiming can occur. All three Agents are in the midst of their Tests, and we must ensure the Emissary's readiness, so that we may follow into the Sacred Realm, and then-"
"Another age of peace will await, and we shall oversee its creation," Chudley finished softly.
"The embers of the war will finally go out, and we will kindle a new, purer flame from the ashes." The Elder was caught up in an ecstatic, martyred glow.
"Haha, your allegory is getting better, old man," Carlo patted the Elder on the back. "Once those sanddogs are gone from the world, we'll be safe."
"It is fortuitous as well that the boy said his mother claimed to be from an Eastern settlement, one that was attacked. Who else but those westerners would have done such a thing? And the Goodman's daughter, Malon, her mother was outcast by her own people. The hatred should be easy to kindle. He feels strongly, and he masters his emotions quickly. Knowledge of other atrocities will help to fuel his opinion, I'm sure," The Elder swiped at the glass again, and watched the very boy he spoke of as the Sergeant told him of the Hylian Legend of the First Hero.
"And then, the Hero and his fellow Knights lived on High for the rest of their days, as the Goddess Incarnate ruled the new Age of Peace."
Jessel finished her masterful tale with relish, grinning ear to ear. She waited for her audience to soak in the final words, the traditional ending to Hylian legend. All through the story, Link probed for the truth and clarified the workings of a heroic ques, and instead of relief and a sense that all was falling into place, he was at a loss, sitting in the parlor room of a house he had no desire to stay in, and everyone in that house was somehow counting on him to be like the subject of the Lore. There was simply no way anyone could surivive all that.
Had there been a goddess called Hylia, and how did she send a small village in the sky? How would you even muster the will to leap from a tiny, skyward island when the surface world was but a myth? The giant birds they rode sounded exciting, why didn't they just fly to the surface? Swords did not have spirits of their own, as far as he knew, and the melted rock of lava should have fried the hero. And the desert full of rusting, metal men with wills, the secret passages, goddess-sent weaponry and unlikely friends in just the right places seemed too perfect. Traveling through time was an impossibility as well, though the mechanics of magic were yet beyond him, so that might be the only lick of truth in the ridiculous account. And dragons?
"So what do ya think?" Gerick asked. "Somethin' else, isn't it? Hard to picture Hyrule an abandoned, people-less place."
"Where did the Sheikah come from, then? How did they survive?" Navi was resting on the back of Link's chair, upside down with her legs hooked over the wooden trim.
"It's said they lived underground or even in the Dark World, but nobody but a Sheikah could really know," Talon was still in his languorous pose on the mustard yellow couch, but with a heave, he sat up and stretched.
"Well, they were obviously protected if the Guide of the Goddess knew so much about Hylia's reincarnation," Navi surmised, returned to an upright position and tapped the back of Link's head with her tiny foot. "You alright?"
Was he? Link blinked a few times, rubbed his fingertips against his palm, and tried to slow his flurrying thoughts, and unravel the parallels.
What lay before him? What unimaginable dangers awaited him? Who would help him, and who was going to hamper his efforts? Was he really going to save Hyrule? And from what? There were rumors of darkness looming from the west, but he could not imagine there was anyone willing to break the peace of the last decade.
It was the courage of the First nameless Hero that tipped the balance of the struggle between Wisdom and Power's Vessels, and that string of actions became the basis of Hyrule's formation and golden peace when he claimed the Triforce. Did the Goddesses expect the same of him in this age? Was he going to collect the pieces of Destiny and make a wish upon the complete relic that would propell the world into another idyllic era? At this point in his upturned life, Link couldn't be sure where the winds would take him, or what the roads would lead to if he followed them. All he knew now was his need to see the Royal Family, for it would be their Lore which would reveal his true path. That much he could devise from the unbelievable story, and the clues in his past that directed him to the Chosen rulers. Navi must have known her instructions from the Great Deku Tree would fit into this cosmic archetype, too.
"I see," Link finally uttered solemnly. "I see. I have no choices in my actions. Whatever paths are open to me are ones that the gods and spirits of the world have constructed, and everyone I meet and receive help from are destined to do so. Aren't they?"
In turn, Talon, Malon, Gerrick and Jessel wore chagrin, each searching for words to dispute his absolutism, but it was Navi who defined his guess.
"Like I said back at Homestead," she popped into the air, facing Link. "You make ripples in the fabric of reality even when you don't mean to, and it is because you are Courage's Vessel that you alone can change the balance. Wisdom and Power will clash, and it will be your choices that determine Destiny. It's not that you don't have choices; the path you take is not set in stone. All this legend stuff is important, but it IS your life, Link. You have the choice to stay out of all this, to go back with the Lons or just wander Hyrule until you find what it is you want to do. Going to the Royal Family will change that, however. One of them is an Agent of Nayru, and eventually, you will meet them. That is how strong the ties of Destiny are, and the world does go out of its way to ensure those meetings. But you will always have a choice as to which path takes you there.
"The Goriyos and Sterling were frothing at the mouth to follow you on your journey, just for the chance to be a part of the legends. Rumors are already flying about the Forest Emissary, and while it seems that you have no choice, being embroiled with the Lon Clan and the Hierarchy, it is still entirely your decision what your path will be. We don't have to go to Market, nor meet the Royal Family." She sent him a little wave of encouragement. "We can leave."
But Link was shaking his head. "I don't think I can. Like you said, if the world really does hinge upon my meeting these Hylians, then I should just go. What else could I do? Talon, you and your family have been so good to me, and now Jessel is helping us by telling me what I was ready to hear." And then a beautiful sentiment occurred to the young emissary. "The First Hero could not save the land by himself. Farore and Nayru are generous in the assistance they provide to offset Din's ultra-powerful Agent. Some people offer sage wisdom," He inclined his chin towards Talon, then Gerick. "Or a useful item. Or a horse." Malon beamed her appreciation. "And others have the right to pass on Lore, the Legends and Words of the Past. Jessel, you have my loyalty. Thank you for this legend."
The sergeant studied the intense youth before her, and felt the burn of tears. She blinked several times, smiled and averted her eyes. "You're okay, kid." Jesselia looked into his cobalt gaze. "I'm blessed to have the Agent of Farore on my side." She slapped her thigh. "I can't wait to tell Agitha we have a tie to the Hero!"
"So that's it?" Malon was tentatively hopeful. "Link, do you really accept all this?"
He smiled in his heart as he intoned: "The boy from Kokiri is no more. The tag-along of the Lon Clan is behind me. If the Goriyos want to escort Courage's Vessel to the Royal Family, then that is who I am."
It was then that all those present for Link's pledge felt a fundemental force, as though the world shifted slightly, locked into place after an upset, like a shattered pot seamlessly and instantly repaired.
Malon burst into tears.
Talon's jovial grin turned beatific.
Gerick's wrinkles were soaked by his own tears.
Jesselia lost her battle-hardened smirk and became infinitely femine and soft.
Navi glowed ultra-marine, and said this: "So it shall be, Courageous One."
Ingo stood in the bedroom doorway, silently weeping.
Link watched them all.
And so did the Hierarchy and the Captain of Farmington's military.
The Elder Goriyo sneered at the image in his sunset soaked portal. "So it shall be."
A/N: Welcome back! Moving and adulting is hard, and I haven't had a good place to sit and write.
I've been hung up on this chapter for such a long time, trying to portray Skyward Sword as a proper fireside tale. And then, I asked myself why I needed the whole goddamn thing, and it's going to all come out eventually, but for now, Link's little synopsis is all we have.
Let's get ready for dinner, cause the meat of OoT is imminent.
