Chapter 64: To Faron
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They began their preparations with the first gray streak of dawn, leaving the inn side by side for the stables where Timber and Dinraal patiently waited, already thoroughly groomed.
"I groomed your horse for you," the innkeeper's daughter beamed, staring up at Link. He remembered, smiling, her trepidation about Timber's size when they first arrived. A slight twinge of pride in the child's courage flared in his throat.
"You did great," he praised her, giving Timber's shoulder a pat. "I think you did it better than I could. How's your friend?"
"She won't shy away from a bridle anymore!" the girl exclaimed happily. "And her injuries are healing, and my mother came out to see her yesterday – I think she likes her!"
Link couldn't hold back a wide smile of his own. "Well, I'll have my fingers crossed for you," he assured her. And grinning from ear to ear, the girl skipped off to the next stall, to tend to the piebald mare. Link had given the innkeeper instructions on where to send the mare, and to arrange for the gelding's return to Castle Town.
Impa had kindly topped off their supply of food, stored in one of the saddlebags, with rice biscuits and dried fish. As Link heaved Timber's saddle up over his broad back, biting back a groan at the pain in his shoulder, and began attaching the rest of their gear, Zelda hovered over the Sheikah Slate with Impa over her shoulder. "You should reach the Spring of Courage tomorrow afternoon," Impa was saying. "There's an ancient road along the river, just - just here." She pointed to a place on the screen. "Follow that and you won't have to go through thick jungle on foot. After a day at the Spring, you should spend the night at East Post and then the next night, I believe, you'll reach Goponga Village. So two nights you won't have to camp out in the wilderness - take advantage of them."
Zelda nodded obediently, thanking Impa before hurrying over to the stables and entering Timber's stall, holding out the Sheikah Slate to Link. Its screen bore an image of a map of Hyrule, detailing roads, major settlements, and mountains and rivers. It was at a slight angle, and the words weren't entirely clear; Link realized it was an image Zelda had taken on the Sheikah Slate, like the images she'd capture of flowers.
And the image Groose had captured of the two of them together, he remembered sourly.
"Here's the path Impa recommends we take," Zelda murmured, tracing her finger along the screen. Link nodded, watching carefully, trying to commit it to memory. "If all goes well, we'll be back at the castle in ten days."
Surprised, he looked up from the map. "That… that doesn't sound like much time," he admitted. "I… I didn't realize…" His voice trailed off, and he thought again of her birthday, drawing ever nearer. There's got to be something… something I can…
"It'll feel longer once we get going," Zelda sighed, darkening the Sheikah Slate's screen and hooking it back to her belt. "And speaking of which…"
Link nodded, taking Timber's reins and leading him out into the open where Dinraal was already waiting. "Might as well be on our way," he finished, setting his left foot in Timber's stirrup and jumping up with as much force as he could muster in order to swing his other leg up and over his tall back - always a test of flexibility. His shoulder twinged slightly, but he ignored it.
"Link," Impa called, and he turned to see her still leaning casually against the stable where she'd been speaking with Zelda. "I've been asked to pass along a message: Remember the King's warning. And you should, absolutely, but I'd like to throw in my own two bits as well." She winked, the barest trace of a smile lifting her lips. "Don't take yourselves too seriously."
Zelda looked at him curiously, swinging up onto Dinraal's back, and Link felt his cheeks flushing. "Of - of course," he stammered, dipping his head in acknowledgement. "I'll, er, try not to, then."
Impa chuckled, stepping away from the stable and offering a brief wave in their direction. "Safe travels," she said, heading back towards Imraz's manor. "Goddesses be with you."
"And you as well," Zelda called, a note of gravity darkening her tone. Link nudged Timber's sides with his heels and Zelda followed suit, and they began making their way over the main road through the village, to a dip in the southeastern end of the valley that delved into a deep ravine, and their way off of the mountains.
The sun's light did not strengthen as the early morning hours wound to a close and it emerged fully from behind mountain peaks. Link told himself repeatedly that it was just a natural result of the thin clouds still hovering overhead, clouds that incidentally overlapped with the sun's trajectory and thus dimmed its rays. Yet a small part of his mind couldn't help but reflect on Impa's words the previous day - words of Ganon's growing power, of dominance over the very forces of nature that kept the world alive. He shivered - especially once they had left the warm, rustic atmosphere of Kakariko Village behind, with towering slopes rising up on either side of the road and casting all beneath them in deep shadow, it became easier to believe in hidden evil, and harder to trust in the fortitude of the powers of good.
After about an hour more of riding they emerged from the narrow ravine, and Blatchery Plains opened up far beneath them, with only the tips of a few scattered tall trees protruding from the sea of morning mist engulfing them. Link hoped the mist would lift by the time he and Zelda reached the base of the mountains; his gut clenched at the thought of once again going forward all but blind, not knowing when or where an attack could come from.
He cast a sidelong glance at Zelda, trying to read her expression. She was frowning, no doubt in deep contemplation of something, perhaps their eventual arrival at the Spring of Courage, but she remained quiet, and only the rush of wind and the distant cry of a hawk filled the silence between them. She'd… she'd tell me if she sensed any danger, right? She had on their initial journey to Kakariko. But he didn't doubt that she had quite a bit more on her mind now than she'd had when they first left the castle. How could she not, after two more foiled assassination attempts?
The mist had, much to Link's relief, mostly dissipated by the time they crossed the Kakariko Bridge over Lake Siela, disrupting a pair of herons that took to the sky with agitated squawks. Beyond the bridge, after the recent rains, Blatchery Plains was awash with new green life, fresh grass and ferns poking past musty old undergrowth, trees with dampened trunks and delicate young leaves uncurling to taste the sun. Moss clung to the sides of the small mesa rising up on the eastern side of the trail, just beyond the crossroads where the road to Hateno branched away.
The trees thickened on the distant southern edge of the plains, coalescing into a tangled woods. They were far enough away that Link doubted they could pose - or rather, hide - much of a threat, but nonetheless he squinted into their depths, trying to determine what secrets they held. A flash of movement - and a buck leapt from the shadows, dark grey in the feeble morning light. Link's shoulders relaxed.
They passed the Dueling Peaks stable - larger than others, because of the frequency of travelers making the journey from major Hylian settlements to another - Deya, Hateno, East Post, Gatepost Town… Link gathered that Kakariko wasn't a frequently visited location by outsiders, since he hadn't seen another traveler during their stay, nor had they encountered other travelers on the road, and the inn, as far as he could tell, hadn't hosted any other guests. It was a relief now to encounter the occasional hunter or trader or merchant caravan making their way across the wilderness as well; no longer did Link feel as though they were isolated, cut off from the rest of the world. Yet each person or group they passed bore the same wary expressions of hunted prey, some sporting what appeared to be recently incurred injuries. The gazes turned their way were stony, suspicious, and unfriendly. Link found himself increasingly relieved that Dinraal's saddle, though well-made, was not particularly decorative, and that the Princess herself was wearing relatively simple clothing. They did not stand out.
He kept his right hand loose, ready to snatch his blade at a moment's notice.
They stopped for a brief meal around midday in the Dueling Peaks' shadows, letting the horses drink their fill of the Squabble River cutting through it. Link had passed between the two mountain halves multiple times before, sent to patrol the nearby settlements or sometimes deliver messages. He never failed to feel utterly infinitesimal in comparison to the colossal crags thrusting straight up from level ground to piercing the sky, seeming to touch the very limits of the world itself, and now with the wilds so tense and dark, they felt especially confining.
"According to folklore, these used to be one joint mountain," Zelda murmured, sitting comfortably with her legs stretched out on a stone slab lying against the cliff face. "Travelers couldn't get safely over the mountains and into lush Necluda beyond, so they prayed to the old Goddesses for help - scholars debate whether or not it was Farore, as the creator of life, or Din, as the world's builder. Nonetheless, whoever it was, she sent down a great dragon to carve a way through the mountain, and it split the mountain right into two."
Link shivered, imagining some massive serpentine creature descending from the heavens to crack open a mountain of this size. "It… it would've had to be huge," he whispered, gazing up at the thin sliver of sky above.
Zelda nodded thoughtfully. "Or immensely gifted in magic," she posed. "Din is most associated with fire, so if the dragon was sent by her, it likely would have possessed some degree of fire magic. But you can't burn stone…"
"Lightning can crack it, though," Link pointed out. "I've seen it happen, years ago. It was… well, terrifying, but if a dragon had that power…"
"Lightning - of course!" Zelda smiled at him. "I'd believe that. But then… which Goddess would send a dragon with lightning powers? I mean… if it's a form of shaping the world, I'd say Din, but she's never been associated with that element. It's always fire. Nayru is water, of course. Dwelling in a body of water that gets struck by lightning can be fatal… would that make it more or less likely for her to have lightning under her domain? And then of course she's also associated with order -"
"Lightning couldn't be an… an order thing," Link protested, grinning. "It's random, unpredictable… Unbalanced, with that much power."
"Then that just leaves Farore, but I've never heard a legend in which she was associated with lightning," Zelda said, consternated. "Although… now that I think about it… it's always those three, isn't it? Fire, ice or water, and some form of lightning-generated power… And fire is always paired with Din, and ice with Nayru, so that would naturally leave Farore with lightning, even though it's never explicitly - what?"
Link's grin widened as he looked at her, although he felt his face heating up self-consciously. "It's just so… you get so passionate," he explained with a soft chuckle. "It's… I don't know; it's very sweet. Endearing."
Zelda's cheeks pinkened, and she smiled shyly. "I'm glad you think so," she admitted. "I've met many people that find it annoying." She laughed, but then her gaze clouded and her smile dropped. "Are you… are you just humoring me, or are you… actually interested?"
"I'm actually interested," he assured her at once, his brows lifting. He ran a hand through his hair, breaking eye contact for a moment as he ran through words and memories in his head. "I… I honestly enjoy it, Zelda. Theorizing, or making observations about things, having discussions about the way the world works. Things that really get the mind working." He drew in a deep breath, feeling a spasm of uncertainty racing through his heart - a moment of doubt.
He decided to ignore it and go ahead. "You… you probably thought I wasn't, and I tried not to, since I… was supposed to be focusing on other things, but when you were working on the Great Plateau with that Shrine, and in the courtyard with the guardian, and really whenever you're talking about your studies, I… I do listen. I found it all… fascinating, really. Sometimes terrifying." He chuckled. "My parents were scholars, and I don't exactly know if that's what I would've wanted out of my life if I had a choice, but I do enjoy learning."
Zelda got to her feet, crossing over the pebbly shore to take his hand in hers. "Once the Calamity is defeated, we'll both have the freedom to do exactly that," she murmured, meeting his gaze; her eyes were full of hope - hope that lifted clouds he hadn't even noticed falling across his heart, so similar to the clouds hovering in the sky.
They continued their journey, emerging from the chasm between the Dueling Peaks into relatively more open lands, with stern grey mountainsides rising up far to the east, entirely dwarfed by the Duelling Peaks yet still relatively tall in their own right. A small copse of trees closed over the path just ahead, further serving to block out pieces of the sky even with their meager young foliage. Yet still the air felt crisper, lighter, and the sky wider, in stark contrast to the nearly suffocating, all-encompassing grasp of the Dueling Peaks.
Once through the woods, the hills were bare, and the land rolled away from the trail in grassy hillocks to the north and the south. The afternoon wore on as they passed over Proxim Bridge and entered East Post, a small stone-walled settlement inhabited mostly by mercenaries and the traders and merchants they were hired to protect. A few small market stalls had been set up along the side of the road, where vendors hoped to ensnare travellers with their strategically presented wares - food, both fresh and nonperishable; feed for horses, rope, arrows of varying lengths and types…
Link kept Timber between the merchants and Zelda, hoping to keep her from getting noticed; they weren't stopping here for the night, and he knew she didn't like the extra attention. He prayed that no one would recognize the Master Sword on his back, although Timber stood out like a dark smudge on fresh paper with his immense size. The gentle breeze fluttering between canvas stalls carried the flurried sound of frenzied whispering to his ears after they passed by.
The road turned south, away from the small settlement, once more into relatively untamed wilderness, steep rocky hills to the east and undulating fields to the west, rolling up to the edge of the Great Plateau; the Temple of Time was just barely visible, its ancient spires like needles pricking the sky. The sun was beginning its descent, just as feeble and diminished as it had seemed in the morning, but as it crept closer to the horizon, its light seemed to rally, gaining ferocity and heat as slowly it reclaimed the sky. Where dim, faded blue had once reigned with its entourage of hazy, low-hanging cloud, there raged a veritable inferno, furious orange and malicious crimson burning gloom from the sky - the sun's final hurrah before succumbing to the swift-sweeping shadows of nightfall.
Link and Zelda stopped about two hours after passing through East Post; Zelda set about building a small fire in the shelter of a stony outcropping protruding from the fields while Link set up her tent on the grass, hoping it would provide more cushioning than the rocky soil surrounding the base of the outcropping housing their fire. There was nowhere natural to tie the horses, no nearby trees (Zelda used mostly grass, along with the small pieces of firewood Timber was able to carry) or stumps, so he made do with driving two stakes into the harder soil and fastening the lead ropes around them. The other end of the lead ropes he fastened to each horse's ankle, respectively, further securing them. If it had been Choice, he wouldn't have bothered, and though he knew Timber was just as well trained - and had the strength to pull free of his tether regardless - he didn't fancy having to chase down the horses in the morning. He had learned how to picket and hobble horses years ago; it was a skill that he retained, despite not using it often in more recent journeys.
"How's your shoulder doing?" Zelda asked with gentle concern as they sat down around the fire to share their dinner.
Link resisted the automatic urge to shrug. "It's… alright," he admitted truthfully. "Sore, of course, but not unbearable." Although a horse with a smoother gate would've been a bit more comfortable. He had been jolted around a bit by Timber, who clearly hadn't been bred for pleasure riding. And of course moving my left arm at all isn't great. But he kept those thoughts to himself - it wasn't anything serious, just minor discomfort – alright, it was quite a bit more than minor discomfort - and he could live with that.
Zelda nodded slowly, her gaze boring into his as if she was trying to discern what exactly was going through his head. "Well, that's good to hear," she said at last. "I'll need to clean it, though, as per Impa's orders. I believe she left us a bag of salt somewhere…" She leaned over and began digging carefully through the saddlebags, and Link reluctantly poured the rest of the water from one of their waterskins into a small pot he'd considered using to cook their meal in, before setting it down on the coals of the fire. Zelda straightened, holding a small wooden box latched and bound shut, and carefully opened it to pour a small pile of salt into the pot.
"It's really not doing that bad," Link insisted, as she took his arm and began unbuckling his gauntlet. With his free hand he scrambled at his baldric, reluctantly giving in. "I… I mean… I've been injured before, and didn't go over it this thoroughly. I'm sure it'll be fine."
Zelda raised an eyebrow at him. "Apparently Impa believes there's a need," she countered. "Although I doubt it was a poisoned arrow, since I imagine we would've seen some sign of that before now, I still find it reasonable that we clean it every night." The ghost of a smile passed across her lips. "And anyway, it's about time you had someone to see that you treat your wounds properly."
Link chuckled reluctantly, gingerly pulling his doublet over his head; Impa had suggested that he wear it instead of his Champion's tunic so that they would be less recognizable. Zelda hurried to his other side to help with his left arm. "Fine, fine," he sighed. He paused a moment before starting on his undershirt - stained but otherwise clean and mended, thanks to Impa's efforts - feeling a wave of shame that surprised him upon remembering Zelda's horror at seeing his growing collection of scars. He swallowed and met her gaze. "I - I can do it, if you'd like," he offered quietly. "If it… er, if it makes you… uncomfortable." He forced a smile. "I promise I'll be thorough."
Zelda studied his expression carefully, trying to determine what it was that he wasn't willing to say. He shifted under her scrutiny, at last breaking her gaze, unable to meet her eyes. Because it was a shortcoming on his part - because he was disfigured, in a sense.
"It doesn't make me uncomfortable, Link," she murmured after a pause. "Just… just a bit sad. Sad that people and creatures have hurt you that badly, and sad that you had to suffer."
"Well, I don't want to make you feel sad," he returned, firmly holding the hem of his undershirt down when she reached for it. "I can do it. Really."
Her eyes flashed, with a sudden anger that made him recoil. "This is the only way I can help you," she shot back, her eyes narrowing. "Don't take that from me. Please."
Taken aback, he nodded quickly, hurrying to remove his shirt, accepting her help again - a bit brusquer than usual - in getting it over his left arm. He let her unwind the bandages without resisting, without even saying a word, watching with concern as she stared daggers at his shoulder, her brow heavily furrowed. It seemed, he realized, that she had somehow inherited some of her father's stormcloud aura - without any of the age and intimidating bulk that had led Link to making such a comparison in the first place. It was in the eyes, he realized - such a similar shade of green, almost identical.
He winced when he saw that the bandages had bled through a little, and winced again when Zelda began rubbing carefully at the sensitive stitched-together skin surrounding both sides of the wound with the near-boiling, salt-infused water, but for her sake he did his best to keep quiet. Of course it hurt, and the salt stung like the very fires of Death Mountain, but he didn't want her to think anything she did was hurting him. As he mulled over her words and startling reaction in his mind, he realized that she must have been strongly feeling the disparity in their roles.
It's not a matter of whether or not I can do this for myself, he told himself firmly, resolving not to fight against her attempts to help again. He felt a returning twinge of shame in his gut and lowered his gaze as she wordlessly began re-wrapping his shoulder in bandages.
I… I just wish I didn't… make her sad, because of my appearance. Because of the scars.
At the very least, he decided, it gave him extra motivation to try not to get hit in battle. There was nothing he could do about the scars he'd already gained - but he could still work to ensure the collection didn't grow.
