It's been about an hour or so since the training session, and as expected, Hiccup admitted that I was right in assuming he wanted to go out to the forest again. We made a mutual agreement that I would go with him in order to ensure his safety, relieving a bit of his tension it would seem. The prerequisite to the demand was that he find me some good food.
Clearly, that was a mistake.
I'd manage to stave off his many questions about my eating habits during the actual task, but now that we've begun to make our way towards the forest, he won't let up.
"So, no meat at all?"
I roll my eyes before answering his question for I think the third time now. "Like I said, I'll eat fish, but that's it."
"Chickens?"
"Nope."
"Sheep."
"No."
"...Yaks?"
What? "What are yaks?" I ask, caught off guard for once.
"Oh, we have plenty of them around the village. They're big, really furry... They also give us our milk."
Furrowing my brows, I cast a glance down at the excitable boy. "So, they're like goats."
He shrugs. "Kinda, yeah."
"Then absolutely not."
One would think that a farm hand would accept something as natural as eating meat, but the idea never sat well with me. Granted, I was able to put off the thought for long enough until I'd ended up taking the form of an animal and speaking to others. Kind of changes your world view on eating chicken when you just had a conversation with one hours prior.
"What about fish?"
Why do you want an answer so badly?
Then again, better than the awkward silence from last night I suppose.
"Don't like the way they taste, or smell," I reply with a shrug. I actually was rather fine with them before trying Yeto's soup. "And personally speaking, I would have taken you for a vegetarian too, what with the string bean physique."
"Oh, ha-ha."
I chuckle back at his own sarcastic laugh, somewhat glad that the tension is lifting between us. It helps that I'm started to get a better feel for his sense of humor.
He's quite sarcastic at times, but his humility stands at the forefront of his person. Sometimes, his words have a hanging tone of self deprecation, but that seems to go away when he's comfortable.
We pass the time during our trip with some scattered conversation here and there, but no real topics of importance. As it happens, it's not all that far to the forest as I'd thought. There's a back door in Hiccup's own house that we left through, which goes straight into the heart of the forest rather than the convoluted path I took from the Great Hall.
There's no chance in hell that I'm letting him know I had the wrong path before, but this is good to know, at least. I'm making a mental note of whatever landmarks I can in case I need to get through here without Hiccup's assistance, but I can't say I intend to spend a great deal of time in these woods.
As we make a pass through another clearing, Hiccup starts to speak up. I'm expecting it to be another joke or lighthearted observation, but his tone throws me off.
"Hey, uh, Link?"
"What's up?" I offer him a sideways glance over my shoulder, brows furrowed.
"Thanks for coming out here with me."
I turn my head more to look at him directly, but he's averted his gaze towards the ground. It's not the shy look that you would expect from a boy like him, but almost one of self loathing. Scoffing at his timidity, I give him a strong pat on the back. He stumbles, of course, but keeps up his solemn march.
"Don't be like that," My voice comes out low and a little disappointed, honestly. "I'm here because I want to be, so don't go feeling all bad about it."
Plus, you'd have just gone without me anyways.
"Well, if only everyone adopted your way of thinking..." he mutters just loud enough for me to hear.
I give him an unamused look, but opt to play his game nonetheless. "Come now, I'm sure that your fellow trainees would have come with you if you'd just ask."
He scoffs rather exaggeratedly and turns his head back to me. "Right, because who wouldn't want to join the mighty Hiccup in a Night Fury hunt." A wry smirk crosses his face as he decides to play along with my sarcasm.
"Honestly," I lean forward so that I'm in his face, playing up the performance a bit more. "I fear I'm just ripping away those poor children's chances at gaining good favor with you."
Hiccup chuckles again, just as he was before. My features soften a little bit, relieved at the swift change in mood.
"I doubt you're missing much anyways," I tussle his hair lightly as I lean back again, to his chagrin. "They don't seem like the type you'd want to wander 'round a dark forest, anyways. Well, except maybe that Astrid girl."
Surprisingly, Hiccup stumbles when I mention Astrid's name. He lets out a fake cough before agreeing with me, walking on as if nothing happened. I stare at the back of his head in silence for a bit, likely burning a fine point in his hair with my gaze alone. Thinking back to his behavior around her during the training, I begin to put together a few pieces of the puzzle before blurting out an arguably insensitive question.
"You're into her, aren't you."
The poor boy all but falls over this time, although part of me wonders if he isn't doing it on purpose. He whips around so quickly, his short hair practically smacks him in the face. "Who, Astrid? No, no, of course not," he sputters indignantly.
I can't particularly say I have a wealth of experience with puppy love, but I can see it when it's as obvious as Hiccup's making it.
"You know you don't have to try and hide it. You're a terrible liar, anyways."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." He tries to lean back onto a rock that isn't there, losing his balance once more. He looks back up at me after getting himself together with another innocent smile. I don't say anything for a few seconds, and sure enough, he groans in defeat.
"Okay, fine."
"Thought so."
I walk ahead of him, tapping him on the shoulder to usher him to keep moving, but naturally, I still have a bit to say on the subject.
"So what's the point in trying to be secretive about it?"
"What do you mean?" Hiccup looks up at me with an almost worried expression.
"Well, your options are either Astrid or... what is it, Ruffnut? Can't hurt to be honest with her at that point, don't you think?" I know full well that wasn't the answer he was looking for, but I offer my "advice" with a shrug nonetheless.
He shudders at the mention of a romantic prospect with Ruffnut before retorting. "Right well, I'm sure that's very easy for you to say." He waves his hand dismissively and turns away to keep moving.
"Oh?" I cross in front of him, cutting off his path once more. He steps back a bit, slightly startled, but looks up at me all the same. "What makes you say that?"
He avoids eye contact with me again, noticeably bashful about his own words already. I'm not trying to give him a hard time, but I'd genuinely like to pry into his understanding of me as a person.
"Ah, you know. You're... you." His voice trails off as if all the confidence he had earlier speaking to me just retreated once more. The tone in his voice isn't unlike the self loathing he'd shown thusfar, but it's still different in its own regard.
"You're strong, you're brave, you always know what to do. People must love being around you. You're-"
"Nothing like you?" I cut him off, guessing his answer based on where it's going.
"Yeah." The boy's shoulders slump, like a puppet being cut loose. "I mean, I can hardly get anyone to look at me without scowling, let alone talk."
Just like Colin, huh.
It doesn't take a genius to understand Hiccup's reason for being ostracized. One simple look at the culture of this place tells me that strength is an absolute. Even for those that aren't physically strong, like the kids, having a comparable will should be more than sufficient.
If Astrid had found that dragon tied up, in all of her fervor and ferocity, she'd have killed it without question and presented it as a show of her prowess. Snotlout would offer up its head as a show of pride.
Hiccup, however, did none of that.
Judging by his words and mood, the gift of compassion is one rarely displayed around his village, much less appreciated.
Even in my case, for all the value I see in his warm heart, this boy has seen me take not one, but two lives within the first few minutes of meeting me. The quintessential spirit of a viking in his eyes with a physique no more imposing than his own, save for my height over his.
I haven't even considered the idea that my actions towards him could be seen as not a kindness, but as pity. Simply put, I have no idea how deep his frustration can run, nor who it's aimed at. I can do little to change his thoughts or how the others perceive him.
But, I can at least take a crack at it.
"Let me tell you a bit about myself, Hiccup." I step out of his way and gesture for him to continue on, talking as we approach our destination.
"I've been learning how to fight from a young age not because I enjoy it, or because I was good at it, but because I have to." The sword on my back clinks around in its sheath as if speaking in agreement with my point.
"I'd been so fixated on the task that people around me got worried."
I run my memories back through the sleepless nights of practicing with a wooden sword, rattling the metal fittings on a pumpkin-headed training dummy until the vibrations turned my hands numb.
The sensation echoes in my left hand before I inhale briskly and continue the story.
"I was strong, I was skilled, and nothing else. I thought I had to protect the village not because I cared for them, but because that's what a hero would do. A selfless, staunch protector."
I cast my eyes down towards him, as if to say, "Sound familiar?"
"But," Focusing my eyes ahead, I flip through the pages of my brain to dig up a new, warmer memory.
"I needed more than just that. What do you think a hero should be, Hiccup?"
His eyes bounce around the forest as he thinks, visibly unprepared for having to answer a question as open ended as that. In all honesty, I don't want an actual answer here. Instead, I want him to be forced to approach the idea of a hero that's been hammered into him over time, and therefore, his idea of a viking.
"I... guess they have to be brave, right?"
I may not be able to read his thoughts, but his eyes tell a much more honest story than his words. If only for a moment, he stopped looking all over the forest and instead glanced first at my sword, then at my hands before answering.
"Is that what you believe, or just what you think is the right answer?"
"I don't think I like this game anymore."
"Come on, play along."
He sighs, but starts thinking again regardless. I put my hand up to the side of his head and tell him not to look at me while he thinks, keeping up the awkward positioning while we continue our trek through the forest. Some time passes before he even opens his mouth to speak, but I pay it no mind. After what likely felt like an eternity for him, he finally gives a reply.
"I guess they should be a person everyone can look up to."
A step in the right direction. I drop my hand back down to my side, satisfied enough with this answer. "Tell me, would you look up to a weapon, Hiccup?"
I don't wait for an answer before I continue on. "A hero's gotta be strong, yeah, but you gotta like them. Someone who you feel like understands your problems."
Hiccup's face goes through a myriad of expressions. I can see confusion being washed over by relief and back again with everything else in between. "I... don't see how this helps me."
I shake my head at no one in particular, fully aware that Hiccup isn't looking at me right now. "My point is that heroes aren't made all at once. A person shouldn't be called a hero just because they're strong. And no one's born a hero."
In the back of my head, I scoff at the hypocrisy of my advice, knowing that I myself was born as the descendant of the last divine hero. The irony isn't lost on me, but even so, the boy could do with the idea that he has some growing left to do. He's quite a bit older than I was when I started training, or even Colin was, but I can still see potential shining bright from within his soul.
The son of a chief, scrawny as he may be. No matter what one's personal circumstances may be, a position such as that gives him more leeway than he could ever imagine.
I rest a hand on his shoulder as we keep on, doing my best to channel the older brother that never was within me. "If you're surrounded by people with a false image of a hero, then just show them the right one."
Pulling my hand back, I give Hiccup another pat on the back as a silent message to chin up.
I've never been great at giving advice or motivation, especially when the knights are usually inspired by my presence alone, so this is a new one to me.
Still though, I feel somewhat obligated to try and help the kid out. A few lessons on how to fight wouldn't hurt, for sure, but his own personality speaks for itself. Despite his timid and reclusive nature, he still bears a strong enough will to go against the grain and spare a dragon. Having what I can only assume is no prior knowledge of how it would react, he still took the gamble to not just let it live, but free it.
A coward to the village, and yet braver than any of them could be in such a situation. Hell, braver than I would have been in that situation.
The kid's got heart, I just need to find a way to make him see it.
Our trip continues in silence for a bit before Hiccup speaks up once more. He hasn't looked at me directly since I brought up this subject, but for the first time he's opted to meet my gaze with his own. His dark green eyes quiver ever so slightly as the boy's mouth slowly opens.
"Do you... do this often?"
I scoff at the question. Not for the question itself, but for the tense way he asked it, as harmless as it is.
"No, believe it or not, talking isn't my strong suit. Well, at least it wasn't before."
At this point, charisma has to come with the job. Everyone's always expecting the hero to say the right things, I suppose.
"I just happen to think that everyone has their own comfort zone, and the right person to bring them out of it."
He looks back at me with a set of questioning eyes, silently asking if that line of thinking was to be applied to me as well.
"Another time," I mutter back.
Some distance ahead of us, I see the barrier of trees beginning to open up once more. It's another clearing, but this one seems much larger than the previous ones we'd gone through. I hadn't much time to take in my surroundings last time I was here, but I can still tell at a glance that this is the right place.
Felled trees and scattered logs are still strewn about from the dragon's chaotic attempt at an escape yesterday, littering the forest floor with pieces of wood. Following the trail of scattered debris with my eyes leads me to a massive cove, sinking straight down into the earth. The entirety of the depression is lined with steep walls, adorned by stone and dirt alike. Anything unfortunate enough to fall in would have their work cut out for them climbing out. Hiccup and I share a glance before opting to walk up quietly to the opening.
Peering down into the hole, I get to see more of nature's volatility at work. Not only are the walls lining the cove steep, but there's few footholds one could use for climbing out. I see some, but it's safe to say that it'd be a demanding task. With my eyes, I follow the tree roots and vines extending down to the floor of the cove where a small pond lies, some rocks breaching the surface of the water. As I scan the interior of the area, I notice something just out of my line of sight; a single black creature desperately trying to climb up the walls of the massive trench.
Hiccup notices it around the same time I do, eyes wide with apprehension. I put a finger to my lips with a "hush" before carefully walking up to the edge of the wall that dips down into the cove. I kick a few pebbles down into the opening by mistake, but it does nothing to catch the attention of the beast down there. After a failed attempt at scaling the wall, it vaults off and glides around the cove before landing on the ground, only to try again to the same result.
Beside me, I hear the sounds of Hiccup's scribbling in his notebook, resulting in a crude drawing of the dragon. He scoots closer to the wall's edge, partially ignoring my hushed warnings to be careful. I click my tongue, but turn back towards the Night Fury once more. There's no telling how long it's been at this for or how much longer it intends to keep doing so, but the frustration shows in its every action.
There's scorch marks scattered across the floor of the cove, surely brought about by the dragon itself. Its gliding attempts are elegant at first, but the moment it begins to lose altitude, the reptile beats its wings aggressively in an attempt to gain some more flight time, growling loudly as it crashes back to the ground. To vent its frustrations, the dragon beats its tail against the dirt, kicking up a small dust cloud.
"Why doesn't it just fly out?..." My ear twitches at the sound of Hiccup's muttering, who's still scrawling in his notebook. I glance over at the drawing, now looking a bit more completed. One feature of it stands out to me, namely the tail, though. My eyes shoot back and forth from the dragon before us to Hiccup's drawing before I point out the difference; he's drawn the tail with two wings, but the Night Fury down in the cove only has one.
It strikes me as odd that it doesn't match the other side, especially given its otherwise uniform anatomy, but neither of us make any mention of us.
After yet another failed attempt, the dragon adds a scorch mark to the collection decorating the floor of the cove, venting its frustrations further.
A silent moment passes as the Night Fury halts its attempts at escaping, instead skulking on the edge of the pond. It dives its head into the water like a cat would, looking for some fish before pulling back empty-handed. Hiccup continues to watch it in what seems to be silent awe, already flipped to a new page in his journal and writing down minor notes.
"Should we get closer?"
I shake my head, not wanting to overstay our welcome or agitate the beast. I have to say though, it is pretty interesting to see how it acts when it's on its own. One thing about the whole situation is bothering me though.
"Do dragons not have predators?"
Hiccup looks up a little confused after hearing my question, pressing me to explain further.
"Well, it was tied up for however long, and it's been down there since yesterday. But there's not a single sign of it being attacked since then, is there?"
The missing half of its tail is the only sign of injury, and I think Hiccup and I both know where that came from. Aside from that, there's not even a single carcass in the cove, so it's not like the dragon has just been fighting off all potential enemies.
"I guess dragons don't come into the forest often," Hiccup proposes.
That theory would be perfectly sound if I didn't remember my experience after he left yesterday. That dragon back there was so incredibly aggressive towards me that I can't imagine it'd just ignore the Night Fury as vulnerable as it is. I don't see a chance of it getting pushed back without getting even a scratch in, so that idea's out. So that leaves me with one of two ideas, either the trapped beast down there looked intimidating enough to deny an attack, or I still have quite a bit to learn about dragons.
Speaking of which, where even is the other one?
My pondering is interrupted by the sound of dead leaves crunching beside me as Hiccup shifts his posture, trying to get a more comfortable position as he watches the dragon. Having had its limit with the both of us, the dirt under us sinks in further before swiftly crumbling, knocking off a small segment of the cliff, the very one Hiccup was resting on. I grab onto the back of his shirt before he has time to fall off, but it doesn't stop him from yelping in fear.
I pull Hiccup back quickly to avoid attracting the Night Fury's attention, but by the time I've gotten him back onto steady ground, I end up locking eyes with the beast down below. It's spared Hiccup once before, but that rational thought is absent from my mind in this brief confrontation. There's the same hostility in its eyes that I'd expect, given its position, but also some vulnerability.
The sound of grass stirring under Hiccup catches my attention, but I haven't dared to look away from the Night Fury just yet. I gesture for Hiccup to stay quiet as he gets up off the ground. Naturally, he looks right down at the seemingly stranded dragon as well, catching it's attention now instead. It shifts its gaze over to him and for just a second, I notice its expression change. I can't quite place it, but it looks at Hiccup differently than it did me. Perhaps instead of hostility, it's a sense of wariness.
In that same second, something else grabs my focus. I assumed that the source of the suffocating hostility I was feeling was from the Night Fury down below, but despite the fact that it looked away from me, the heavy aura persists.
I grumble a swear under my breath, but decide to back down from the invisible threat anyways. I tap Hiccup's shoulder and tell him that we're overstaying our welcome. He nods timidly and follows my retreat away from the cove and eventually back into the thicket of trees.
Our return to the village isn't particularly swift or tense, but the feeling of hostility fades away as soon as we made it back under the cover of trees. Perhaps something that was above us lost interest once we left its territory. Either way, I'm in no rush to stick around and find out. I'm not quite worried about myself, but could I really fight off an attack while keeping Hiccup safe?
The boy in question has actually been rather silent on our way out, instead burying his head in his new notes. I leave him be for the meantime, only pulling him here and there every so often to prevent him from tripping over logs or running into rocks.
"..."
"...Link?"
"Hm?"
"Its tail, I..."
"Your village was under attack."
"..."
I know what he wants to say. It spared him. It didn't just run away, it made a decision to let him live. Perhaps it was more concerned about what I'd do if it attacked Hiccup, maybe not. Who really knows?
But he wants to find out.
No, he needs to find out.
He already made his choice to help a dragon. The dragon made its choice to spare a human.
He just needs a little extra push.
"You gonna do something about it?"
I don't look at Hiccup as I ask my question. I don't want a direct response, I want him to think.
"Don't just ask why you cut the dragon loose. Why do you think it let you live? Figure that out first before you start planning stuff."
Out of the corner of my eye, Hiccup cranes his neck towards me in silent confusion.
I'm hard pressed on him answering these specific questions because of how personal they are to him in this instance. If this boy doesn't feel right following in everyone else's footsteps, then I'll push him to tread a new path.
Truth be told, I'd be lying if I said my motivations for helping Hiccup were all noble. I'm as obligated to keep him safe as I am the rest of his village, but I'm particularly interested in his character.
He covers his weaknesses with solutions that only he can come up with.
He's in a new situation, and I want to see how he reacts.
I tell him that he doesn't need to answer my question just yet and leave him to his own thoughts, silently marching on back to the village. Over the course of our trip, he occasionally makes some new scribbles in his notebook. I'd look over every now and then and see some more notes being written, although I can't read whatever script his people write in. It looks vaguely like Hylian, but the symbols are all different.
The notes aside, Hiccup will seldomly flip to a fresh page and begin sketching a design for something. It's very rough and his additions to it are few and far between, but it appears to be the other half of the Night Fury's tail.
I'm not exactly sure what he's up to since I can't read his notes, but I have a good feeling he's going down the exact path I'd expected him to.
The travel time between the forest and the village was actually rather short in all, so we had an abundance of time until the next dragon training meeting once we'd returned. I left Hiccup to him lonesome for the time being to do some training on my own.
I haven't gotten around to setting up a dummy like I have back in Ordon, nor do I have other knights to practice with, but I make do with what I can. For now, I'm simply running through the seven sword techniques that I'd learned from my late ancestor. Sweat flies from my face as I complete another Great Spin Attack. This is my ninth set by now, and just like every other time, there's no magic shockwave that usually accompanies the move.
I'd given up hope of manifesting any magic after the third attempt, but I was still hoping for a sudden success in the back of my head.
I sigh in frustration, swinging my sword a couple of times around me. I glance around at my surroundings, taking in the environment for what feels like the hundredth time, looking for even the slightest natural variation from Hyrule. The trees are still trees, some even being the exact species we had in Ordon. The grass is no more lush than it is back home, nor any less so. Some dead patches decorate the village here and there, but the forests are another story. It resembles Faron Woods so closely, I could have confused it for a hidden section of the grove.
The dragons, however, are a constant puzzle to me. If I hadn't seen a dragon before, that would be one thing, but these beasts look nothing like Argorok, aside from the Monstrous Nightmare. Even then, the resemblance is fleeting. Volvagia, the ancient dragon defeated by the Hero of Time, varied heavily from Argorok, but still remained a far cry to the physiology of these animals.
And then there's my inability to tap into any magic around the area. I'm no mage, that title goes to the likes of Midna, Queen Zelda, or even the tyrant King himself. Even then, I don't need to be a mage to use a Great Spin. That much comes from my bloodline.
Maybe I didn't rest enough, but I know my body better than anyone else. As far as I'm concerned, I'm as lively as I can be.
I'd thrown about the theory in my head that the opening within the Cave of Ordeals had simply transported me to another nation far away from Hyrule, maybe not even on the same landmass. But this distinct lack of the goddesses' presence is bothering me. And yet-
My left hand has been continuously tingling since I've arrived here, the same sensation it offers whenever Zelda or Ganondorf was nearby. The latter being dead, that only leaves Zelda as a possible source of the sensation. A point which only serves to confuse me further, given that it's plainly obvious I'm nowhere near Hyrule at present.
Moreover, what led me here was a source of Twilight but I haven't seen any signs of that same corruption here. Hell, if I did, I'd at least be able to draw on that for some magic.
Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad if I at least had someone to bounce ideas off of. Once again, I find myself envious of the Triforce of Wisdom, at least in this particular situation. Even having contact with Queen Zelda would make this so much easier. If I knew where I was, sending a message to her would be simple enough, but I suppose that would remove the problem to begin with.
I take another few practice swings with my sword, prepping for the tenth set of techniques. My sword hand is starting to get slick with sweat, reminding me of how physically demanding these techniques can become over time. The rest of my body is equally covered in sweat, if not more so. I groan in discomfort as my tunic begins to stick to my skin underneath, and the feeling reminds me that I haven't gotten a chance to take a bath in a while.
An image of Farore shaking her head at me entertains my head as I decide to take a break for now, at least to wash up a bit. Turning on my heel, I walk back into my house to look for something to wash myself with. I haven't made much of any additions to it yet, aside from the block of wood that I've been fashioning into a bow. Progress is still rather early on it, but something tells me I'll have time to continue it. There's still the crates left behind from the building process, so I figure there might be something of use in them.
After a short while of rummaging, I find a slab of soap in the third crate that I crack open. It's absurdly large, likely meant to be produced in bulk and shaved off as needed. The smell of it is incredibly potent, far more so than the delicate soaps Zelda uses back in Hyrule. Even the more basic ones that I came across in Kakariko and Ordon weren't as fragrant. To be honest, the smell kind of irritates my nose a little bit, but I cut off a small bit with my sword anyways, stowing it in my pouch. I toss the rest of the slab back into the crate, leaving the container open so that I don't forget about it.
I know there's a few wells throughout the village that I could use for water, but honestly, it's been some time since I've had a bath in a spring. Even my visits back home were too short for me to indulge in Ordana's healing waters.
"Could do me some good."
Hiccup might know if there's one nearby, given his apparent knowledge of the forest's layout. I know I saw water in that cove where the Night Fury was resting, so a spring isn't out of the question either. I can always just follow a river upstream and hope that it leads to one as well. I'd rather not take a gamble, so I'll just go ask the kid about it.
As expected, the village is still mostly empty and lifeless. There's some more people around than there were earlier since it's later in the day, but by no means is it the hustle and bustle of Hyrule Castle Town, or even one of the smaller villages like Kakariko. Still though, I cross paths with a viking on my way to Hiccup, one that I don't recognize, much like the others around here. Taking a shot in the dark, I ask him about whether or not there is a nearby spring. He offers some rather disjointed directions in return, but explicit enough for me to get the idea.
"Guess I won't need to visit him after all," I mumble to myself after thanking the man.
Part of me is a little concerned for him, but he does have something productive to do this time around, so he should be alright. After all, I can't cover the kid all the time. He sure as hell won't grow like that.
For me, learning the layout of the forest is my own way of growing. It's not as big as Faron, thankfully, but just as dense if not more so. The countless trees everywhere make it hard to map out any real sense of direction via landmarks until I pass by a clearing. I still have yet to reach anything of note, so I cut a notch into a sizable tree every now and then to try and give myself a general track of where I've been, so I'll have to pay extra attention on my way back.
At times, the forest floor appears to be more leaves than grass, and sometimes devolving into a mess of fallen or otherwise discarded logs. There's none of the large boulders that I saw nearby the cove, though, which tells me that this is in another direction entirely.
In fact, this part of the forest has a completely different feeling to it. The fact that I haven't come across a clearing yet isn't anything surprising, more so being indicative of the direction I'm going in itself. The trees, however, are what's caught my attention. The further I'm going, the more they seem to thin out. Thick trunks begin to turn into taller, more slender stalks, bearing a narrower kind of leaf than the ones I'm used to seeing.
"Ugh, these had a name..." I mutter in slight frustration. Maybe I should have paid attention to Rusl's nature talks when I was a kid.
Either way, the trees aren't my primary concern. At least, not directly. I slash an X into one of the taller trees as opposed to a simple notch to mark the shift in scenery. It's not just the trees, but the thick grass beneath my feet is slowly getting shorter and shorter, as well as the dirt beneath it growing harder.
As I turn around another tree, I catch a glimpse of something large in the distance. It looks like a cliff, just barely looming above. I start to put two and two together and assume that I'm starting to come towards my own cliff, especially as I think back to the directions I was given earlier. He said something about following a rock wall to get to a river, or something to that effect. I can only assume that I'm coming up on a canyon shortly, if everything lines up.
By the time I get near my cliff's edge, the environment's completely shifted around me. The swift shift of scenery reminds me a little bit of Hyrule Field, actually.
"Hm. Wonder how Epona's doing."
I come up slowly to the cliffside, and like I guessed, there's a canyon separating the two large crags. I can see the bottom quite clearly, so it's not nearly as deep as some of the ones around Eldin. It's nothing like the orange haze that hangs over Kakariko Gorge and dyes its surroundings, instead bearing a much milder tinge of grey. Through the center of the canyon floor is a long river, extending past my view in both directions- I can take a guess which way is upstream, though.
The bed of grass surrounding the river on either side presents me with a much more peaceful visage than that of the Gorge. The fact that there's even room for life to grow down there speaks volumes on its own, so long as there's no Leevers inhabiting the ground.
The two cliffsides appear to have ledges running down all over their lengths, separating them further from the smoother, more uniform crags decorating Eldin's boundaries. They're actually quite ideal for climbing, so I opt to hop down the ledges one by one after taking a last look at the scenery. My sword clinks against my chainmail and tunic as I continue to vault down the precipice of the canyon.
I don't spend much more time admiring the canyon once my feet hit its floor, instead following the river path immediately upstream. I've only just noticed, but it's oddly quiet out here. Naturally, I still have the idle noise of the flowing stream besides me as well as the wild whistling through the canyon, but it's all but devoid of any animal chatter now. Every now and then, I can hear what I presume to be the distant roar of a dragon. My hand instinctively flew to the hilt of my sword the first couple of times, but now I'm mostly ignoring it as I continue along the path.
It's actually a rather noticeable upward incline, so I can't see much ahead of me. I've actually been on this path for a while now, probably about thirty, maybe forty minutes by now. Of course, I've walked longer distances, so this isn't bothering me all too much. A horse would still help a great deal, though.
Another roar cuts through the sky, this one even farther than the last. It must be moving away from me.
"Maybe I'll ask it for a ride," I scoff to myself.
After a few more minutes of silent marching, I start to notice the air feeling different, damper almost. I suppose I must be getting close. Now that I think about it, it actually feels a little warmer too. I try to curb my excitement at the idea of the spring being warm, although I can't help but speed up a little.
As I make it just over the incline, I'm finally greeted with the sight of the spacious spring. It's not as large as any of the Spirits' Springs, but still an impressive size in its own right. There's a bit more plant life surrounding the spring, but nothing compared to the thicket of trees that I'd waded through earlier. The walls of the canyon hadn't changed much in size over the course of my trip, so naturally they're a bit closer to the ground up on this incline. Despite that, there's still a path that leads further up the trail, presumably to the top of the cliffs, although it cuts through the side rather than straight ahead as I'd been going.
I don't waste any time in taking off my gear, starting with my sword and pouch. I toss them just by the water's edge before moving onto my vambraces, boots, hat and tunic. The chainmail armor underneath is one of the more frustrating pieces to get off, but I've gotten more than used to it with time. Fully naked now, I slip inside the water with my clothes in a messy pile just beside me. Like I hoped, it's a hot spring after all.
An uncharacteristic moan of comfort escapes my lips as the warmth of the waters envelops me, washing away any fatigue the trip here had put on me. My clothes still need to be cleaned, but I can typically do that by tossing them in a fire, since the goddesses' blessing keeps them from burning up. Burns the grime right off.
I let myself sink into the water just up to my shoulders, taking a brief moment to lazily soak in the spring. After a few moments of loafing, I reach back into my pouch and pull out the chunk of soap I'd shaved off earlier. I'm sure my bag will reek of it for the next few days, especially if I take more of these outings, but for now I opt not to think about to for the time being.
Now that I look at it a second time, I actually cut off a rather large piece earlier. Not that much, but I certainly won't use it all at once, and I don't quite want to carry wet soap in my bag all the way back to Berk. Groaning, I lean over to where my sword is and draw it from the scabbard, quickly shaving off thin pieces of the chunk to use instead. I plunge the sword upright into the dirt and toss the rest of my soap on top of my pouch before turning back to my peaceful bath.
Unsurprisingly, it works rather well for all its potency. I let the rest of it dissolve into the water once I'm done washing up, but stay in for a bit longer to lounge. It's probably not great for my skin, but neither is adventuring.
The absence of life around the spring, at least aside from the plants, strikes me as odd, but there's always the chance that I scared any off. If Ilia were here, she'd probably chastise me for spending more time than I need to under the waters. I can't even imagine how Zelda would look at me if she saw me like this.
I scoff at the thought of her offended expression before waving off the thought.
Absentmindedly swishing about the water beside me with my hand, thinking about the distant royal brings another thought to the forefront of my mind; a way to contact her.
I hadn't considered it earlier, but the song that I had hummed before by my lonesome outside the training arena appears to have some spiritual quality to it. I'm reminded of the various songs I had to howl as a wolf in order to form a proper connection with my predecessor, so the same should work for Zelda.
It's worth a try at the very least. I close my eyes just as I had that time in the waiting pit and take a deep breath in.
I still hear the sounds of the water rushing down the river and the wind whistling through the valley, but that too should go away. I begin humming the enchanting tune once more, the low purring of my throat and chest lightly vibrating the water around me. I try to focus on the song alone, paying no mind to the water on my skin, nor the soft chill of the wind on the exposed parts of my body.
Eventually, the sounds of my environment begin to fade away, just as they had that one time. I don't dare open my eyes just yet, in case it breaks my focus, instead continuing the song into another verse.
A faint whistling catches my attention, my thin ears twitching at the new sound. It's just like that time, the sound of a flute-like instrument. The tones it produces are soft, but it's already taken over the sound of my humming, practically erasing it by now. Still though, I opt not to open my eyes, and instead continue through the song. I have no indication that I'm even still humming aside from the fact that the sound of the instrument has yet to leave me.
My Triforce flares to life, burning more aggressively than it has since I've been on Berk. My eye twitches, and for a moment, the instrument's melody wavers. It quickly corrects itself back on course, as if warning me to keep my concentration. I opt to ignore the sensation for the time being, knowing that at the very least, it won't cause me any actual harm.
It's actually a more straining task than I'd initially thought. Ignoring my surroundings is one thing, the trance that I'd been placed in seems to handle that just fine, but ignoring the pain of my divine birthmark while focusing on the song is another matter. Not only that, but the deeper I seem to fall into this haze, the closer I come to passing out. I don't have the time to think about what the right choice is, so I just stave off the feeling of lost consciousness.
In retrospect, letting myself pass out would have been the right choice, especially given my interactions with my spectral ancestor. In the heat of the moment though, the similarity fails to occur to me, and I just continue to thoughtlessly keep myself awake by sheer force of concentration. It's a moot effort, of course, as I eventually succumb to the combined pain of my Triforce along with whatever spell this song has me under.
Suddenly, I'm lying on my side in what seems to be an endless expanse of pure white. Unwittingly, I open my eyes, but nothing happens. The illusion doesn't crumble, nor do I feel my mind slipping out of the trance. I roll onto my front side and push off the ground, looking down. A thin layer of water covers the marble ground beneath me, my reflection wavering ever so slightly as I jostle the water under my hands. It doesn't feel wet or cold, no matter how much it covers my hands. The moment I lift myself from the ground, the water falls completely from my body much unlike a liquid would.
For a moment, I theorize myself to be in the same ethereal realm as when I'd trained with my ancestor, but this is different. The entirety of it is clear and peaceful. In every direction, I can only see pure white stone and a blue sky above me. It's eerily calm, and it unsettles me. It's completely silent too, I can't even hear the sound of my own moving around.
I look down at my left hand to notice that my Triforce has completely calmed down, as opposed to the intense burning sensation it'd brought down on me just a moment ago. If I had to guess, I'd say that this strange dreamlike world is an illusion brought on by its power, not unlike the bleak visions that Lanayru forced upon me once. The Hero's Shade's world is one of his own making, so I doubt this is anything like that. There's nothing in here for me to even try to assume this world belongs to me.
But then- I try to ponder aloud, but no sound escapes my lips. I don't even feel the vibrations of my voice. It's as if I'm completely removed from this illusion, merely serving as a third person.
Then if this isn't for me, who-
That's when I hear it.
"-nk?"
It's muffled and hazy, like trying to listen through a wall, but I certainly heard my name. I look all over the sea of white, finally locking eyes with the silhouette standing gracefully behind me. They're blurry and unfocused, but I would never forget her image.
The face of royalty, Queen Zelda.
Zelda! I try to shout again, but nothing.
I growl in frustration, or I would if I could make any sound. I abandon the idea of being able to use my words and instead opt to run at her, focusing as much as I possibly can on my Triforce.
If it brought me here, then surely-
Surely I can use it to talk to her.
The foolish thought drives me forward, kicking up water as I run. That seems to be the only effect I can even have in this place.
But, I should know better than anyone. I've never been proficient with magic or the supernatural. The divine blessing upon my left hand simply acts out of its own accord, and only in response to other things.
Honestly, my first clue should have been the fact that Zelda was still looking around aimlessly even as I ran at her.
I'm not sure what my plan was even if I did reach her. If I were to touch her, what would it matter?
The logic doesn't reach the rest of my body quick enough, though, as I still try to reach out to Zelda's shoulders in an attempt to reassure her.
I pass right through the royal like a ghost trying to affect the living in any way he can. She shivers as if a chill ran up her spine the moment I "touched" her.
She can't see me... I mutter in my mind.
To call this realm an illusion wasn't entirely accurate. Nor is it accurate to say that it's a created space like that of my ancestor's. It's like its own plane entirely. My Triforce piece probably allows me to come here, but it's not like I have much influence. I can't do anything besides mess up the water a little bit. Zelda can probably do as she wants here due to her greater skill with magic.
I'd probably need something to help me out, then. I'm told that my ancestor kept with him a special instrument passed down through the royal family. Apparently, it's songs has a distinctive magical effect on the world around him. If I had something like that, I could probably play the same song from earlier to bring me back here.
Hell, if I just had the Master Sword with me, that would be something.
I sigh at the state of my situation, or at least I try to. Casting a glance over my shoulder, I'm met with the troubling image of my Queen looking around in a mix of fear and confusion. Of course, I can do very little to console her if I can't speak to her.
Magic. It's always magic. The craft of high society, as the pompous pricks down in Castle Town call it. It's a skill that few can even begin to comprehend, let alone master. To wield it to the capacity that Zelda does is nigh unheard of, but Ganondorf and Midna were freaks of nature in that regard. Perhaps I can't approach those three, but I can still approach it in my own way.
I outstretch my left hand, staring at the place where my divine birthmark would be. As much as I hate to admit it, it'd be a much more difficult task if I was a normal person. But I have the blood of Farore, so to speak. I wouldn't be the first hero to use magic, anyways.
I'll need a teacher, though. Willpower alone isn't enough to break into a domain that normally requires training from birth. Zelda's out of the question, but I should see if I can still establish a connection with the Hero's Shade somehow. Perhaps I'll look out for a golden dragon.
The lack of a corporeal body keeps me from remembering that my hand is still raised and outstretched, which probably would have looked a bit awkward if anyone could actually see me. As I'm about to lower it, Zelda turns around directly towards me.
The motion catches me off guard, despite knowing that she can't see me.
I still have little more than a blurred image of her to go off of, but I can still see in her stiff motions and her darting eyes that she can't see me directly in front of her. Still though, she slowly raises her right hand towards me, as if trying to feel around for my presence. She passes my left hand, but quickly brings hers back to it.
She tries to grasp my hand, of course to no avail. I look at her eyes and I can still infer that she isn't able to see me, instead only clinging to the presence of my Triforce piece. Affirming my theory, our birthmarks faintly glow as they come into contact with one another.
Zelda, can you- Goddesses damn it all, I still can't speak.
"Li- -s th- y-?"
I can hardly make out her words, but I can certainly hear her. That's good at least, this is a step in the right direction. I close my hand tighter around Zelda's, at least as best as I can pretend to. Her arm twitches, which at least tells me she felt it in some way. Every motion I make with my Triforce active seems to be drawing away my consciousness more and more, or perhaps restoring it.
If I keep acting carelessly, I might just end up leaving Zelda with more worries than I'd started this endeavor with. At the very least, she knows I'm here, but she has no way of knowing if it's because I'm dead or some other reason.
Ugh, if I could just speak! My frustration can't really be directed at anyone in this case, but shouting in my mind at least makes me feel better.
"Link?"
My "eyes" open wider at the sudden clarity of Zelda's voice. I try to lock eyes with her once more, but she's still not looking at me. Instead, I follow her gaze downward, towards the ground beneath my feet.
The water. She's staring directly at the water being displaced by my feet. The one part of this realm that I've been able to affect, and therefore the only visual representation Zelda has of my presence here. Still, it's water, so it's not like I can write a message in it.
I need something recognizable. I can't even tell if she's doing this on purpose or not, but I have to try something, I suppose.
I wrack my brain for a bit, trying to think of what could work, watching Zelda's steady expression start to waver bit by bit. Goddesses, I hate making her worry like that. Last time I remember her making a face like that was when I was leaving.
The thought catches in my mind for a second, and I think back to last I saw Zelda. If I remember correctly, she made me make that oath to her, formality and everything.
That'll do.
Every now and then, the Queen feels it necessary to remind the knights of the vows they take, and they then make a big show of renewing their oath, declaring their loyalty to Hyrule, and all that. Kneeling is, regrettably, part of the deal.
Never personally cared for the whole ceremony, but it'll work.
I take hold of Zelda's hand and start to kneel down in the water. Her face takes a look of confusion at first, but she seems to catch on in time. Looking down, I see my knee making small ripples in the endless puddle around us. I start to bow my head down, and a light feeling runs through it and my vision fades a bit. Probably close to running out of time.
A moment of silence passes between the two of us, a miracle compared to how quiet it's been already. A muffled sigh fills the air, one I can only imagine is of relief.
Sorry for worrying you, your highness.
I can only hope the gesture says what I'd like it to, but really I can't do much to confirm it one way or another. I try giving her hand another squeeze, to little effect. It doesn't look like she even feels this one. She says something again, but my senses are starting to fail me by this point. It's just a garbled mess by this point, like she's speaking another language. If I had to guess from her tone, it sounds like she's pleading with me.
I look down and see that even the water which was pooling around my kneeling leg is starting to fill back in. Almost out, huh? I get up off the marble floor with what little strength I have left over my form. I opt to use the last of my time to try and go in for a hug, for however little it'll do. Like I thought, my form just passes through her again. I don't get to see if she reacts or not, because by the time I start to fall through, the rest of my vision blacks out.
It takes some time for my consciousness to restore itself afterwards, but surely, I'm back in the springs where I'd been bathing. The fact that I can feel my skin starting to prune up from the water is more than enough of an indication that I'm back in my body. I shake my head to clear the mental fog from whatever that realm was and focus back on my surroundings. The sudden clarity of sound throws me into a slight confusion for a little bit, but it passes soon enough.
A heavy sigh escapes my lips once I get my bearings yet again. "A magical song, huh?"
Go figure. Being passed down through the royal family, I can only assume that the song itself is what does the work, rather than the person performing it.
Then again, if that were true, then I'd probably be able to talk to Zelda just fine instead of only hearing her.
Of course, if it was the song, then it would mean that she would have had to been singing or humming it at the same time I was, or else she wouldn't have been there to begin with.
Goddesses, hero stuff is so much simpler than magic.
As I'm about to return to my brainstorming, I hear a soft shuffling noise behind me. I turn around lazily only to find the tail end of a small lizard-like being poking it's head through my tunic, probably looking for food.
I watch it dig through my clothes for a little bit, probably far more relaxed than I should be for an animal that I know nothing about. Still though, it's kind of cute. It seems to have determined that there's no food to be found underneath my shirt and pulls its head back out, bringing the rest of its body into full view.
To my surprise, it looks to be a small dragon. Its wings are proportional to its body, so it's not like it's a baby or anything, this just seems to be how it is. It has a rather large head for its size, but when I consider the other dragon's I've seen since I've been here, that's not too surprising anymore. It has some small horns coming out of its head, but nothing that could be used for goring or probably even piercing.
Honestly, it really looks like someone just scaled down a dragon.
It starts to move towards my pouch, probably hoping for better luck there. I casually reach over and pull the pouch out of its view, holding it just above my head with a smirk.
It doesn't like that.
The little beast seems to understand the fact that picking a fight with me directly probably wouldn't go very well for it, at least at this range, so it looks around frantically for something to use as leverage.
"Come on, do your best."
This thing doesn't really seem all that dangerous, even putting aside its size. Curious isn't the right word, but it's not particularly aggressive. I'd probably reach out to pet it if I wasn't so sure that it'd bite me.
It's probably gathered that I'm mocking it by this point, so it speeds up its decision process and settles for my tunic to make use of. It tenses up its body threateningly, like a cat would before pouncing. It's probably waiting for me to concede the pouch in my hand as a trade off for my clothes, but considering that I'm fairly certain it can't damage them in any way, I just stay silent.
After a short pause, the dragon decides to call my bluff and starts spewing fire at the pile of clothes in front of it. The fire engulfs it, even twisting around the garments unnaturally, but as expected, has no effect. The dragon seems puzzled, to say the least, probably being the first time that it ever had an object react like that to its flames.
"Huh, well that saves me some time on burning them later."
Actually, now that I think about it, I have an idea.
I reach over towards my clothes and the small reptile startles a bit, but tries to stand its ground. Really, at this point I'm just entertaining it and myself. Trying not to burn myself, I delicately grab the edge of my tunic and drag it into the water with me, some bubbles rising up as the heat evaporates the water beside me. There's still a small bit of soap shavings on the grass beside me that I didn't use up earlier, so I set my pouch down and rub the soap into my clothes. The dragon's still watching me, trying to wrap its head around whatever it is that I'm doing.
After I'm satisfied with the amount of soap used on my clothes, I swirl them around in the water to rinse them off a little bit before tossing them back onto the grass in front of the small animal. Some water flicks onto it, but it doesn't seem too bothered.
"Go ahead, give it another shot."
There's a bit of an awkward pause as it just looks down at the clothes before it while I'm left waiting for the dragon to do something. Putting on another mocking tone seems to get the point across, regardless of whether or not it understands what I'm saying. Once more, the reptile lets loose another salvo of flames on my clothes, this time evaporating most of the water that had gotten soaked in. A thick cloud of steam rises from my tunic, but that's the only thing to show for its efforts.
"Hey, it worked."
Deciding to cut my lounging short, I climb out of the spring, grabbing my pouch as I do. This time, the little dragon retreats behind a tree, probably assuming that I'm going to make a counter attack against it. I pay it no mind, instead rummaging through my larger pouch for something to dry off with. I pull out a small handkerchief, probably that I took from the castle at some point, and decide it'll do.
It does a shoddy job, but it's better than being sopping wet. My tunic's still a little damp, but not uncomfortably so. I go ahead and put on my chainmail first before throwing on the rest of my garb, keeping an eye on my tiny spectator as the long process continues on. By the time I'm fully clothed once more, the dragon's already begun to lay down instead, mindlessly watching the display.
"...Weren't you looking for food?"
Maybe curious was the right word, after all. Despite trying to torch my clothes twice, it doesn't seem all too wound up anymore. It's entirely docile, just watching me do something as menial as get dressed.
I roll my eyes at its apparently short attention span, given that its already forgotten about its intent on torching me or my clothes.
"Well, it's been a fun few minutes, little guy."
I pick up my weapons and quickly throw the respective straps around my torso before walking off in the direction I came. The sun's rather low in the sky, but dusk hasn't started to set in just yet, so I've still got some daylight. Not even a few steps into my departure, I hear a small squeak behind me. Sure enough, I turn around and the small dragon's popped out from behind the tree and is staring up at me.
I give an exhausted sigh back at the little beast. "Really? You know you can't follow me, right?"
Cute as it may be, I have absolutely no intention of taking on a pet, much less a dragon in a village of dragon killers.
It tilts its head back at me, either out of confusion or silent defiance. I don't particularly care to stick around and investigate which one it is, though.
"Whatever, you're probably hungry still." I open up both of my pouches and go looking for anything that could resemble food. At the bottom of smaller one, I manage to get my hands on something that feels dry, yet somewhat soft and leathery. I pull it out and in my hands is a piece of Kakariko jerky.
"The hell?" I mutter to myself. If I had to take a guess, Renado or Telma probably packed it for me when I'd visited without telling me. That must have been weeks ago, though, since I haven't been down to Kakariko in quite a while. The more I think about it, I'm almost certain that Telma is the one who would be so bold as to go near my belongings behind my back.
Really, I'd appreciate the gesture more if it wasn't goat.
Well, it should be fine for the dragon to eat, it's cured after all. I toss the jerky a good ways past the little thing so that it has to run back for it. It watches the food fly above its head all the way to its soft landing on the grass by the spring. It looks back at me just once before turning tail and going for the food instead, signaling my cue to head off.
I don't plan on overstaying my welcome, in case the little guy calls over more of his friends, so my departure is a bit more hurried than my arrival was. The canyon's size actually makes it rather easy to remember notable landmarks as opposed to the forest, so I find the point from which I scaled down rather easily. Climbing back up is a bit of a chore, but not unmanageable.
Using the marks I made along the way, the trip back to the village actually cuts down on the travel time by a bit. The forest floor doesn't get very much sunlight as is, but I still notice it getting considerably darker on my march back. By the time I make it back to the village, the sun's almost fully down below the horizon, leaving only a pinch of daylight left for me.
My stomach growls softly, reminding me that Gobber had told everyone to meet back up for dinner. He said they'd all be in the Great Hall, so I can only assume he's already sorted out the food situation up there.
"What time do vikings consider dinner, anyways..." I mutter to myself before making my way towards the Great Hall. Worst case scenario, I'm just early and have to wait for the others to get there. Best case scenario, I'm late and I can just grab a plate.
I'm starting to get a feel for the layout of the village, but it's been rather easy for me to start learning the layout of places ever since the Twilight fell. Going place to place, I basically only need to explore an area once to get a grasp for direction. From there, I just need to job my memory a bit if I haven't been there in a while.
It helps that the Great Hall is one of the highest points in the village anyways, so I'd have to be rather short sighted to miss it. It doesn't actually take me too long to make my way over to it, given that the forest is basically on the same side as the giant building. The area I left the village from was just further off from where Hiccup and I left from. Not as far as being on the other side of the village entirely, though.
By the time I conclude my little trip and make my way up towards the Great Hall, the last of the sunlight's already faded away and been replaced by moonlight. The moon is still low, so the sky's a weird shade of greyish magenta. Unsurprisingly, I'm quite early compared to the others. Gobber's here first, being the teacher and all, as well as Fishlegs. I return their greetings with a nod and a wave, but I don't particularly care to start a conversation right now. Admittedly, my brain is a little tired after crossing over to another realm for a bit.
There's a few other vikings scattered throughout the hall, most just quietly eating their food or passed out off ale. The place actually has a much more casual feel to it now that the large roundtable is replaced with modest benches here and there. At the bench where Gobber and Fishlegs are waiting, there's two large cooked chickens in the middle with a knife next to them. Judging by the lack of anyone digging into them as is, I can only assume that's meant to be the trainees' dinner for the night. There's also a few loaves of bread a little bit further down the table, steam lightly rising up from them. They're probably fresh.
I grab a loaf and tear a chunk off it, absentmindedly nibbling on the piece as I look around. It's not bad honestly, if only a bit sweeter than I was expecting.
My eyes glance over various symbols and paintings in the Great Hall, but I'm not paying attention to any of them, really. I'm still thinking back to my short meeting with Zelda. The song worked, or at least it seemed to, but I'm still without an explanation to the specifics. Unfortunately, I'm not well versed enough in magic to get any productive theorycrafting done, but that doesn't stop me from trying.
I think back to my meetings with my ancestor again, trying to draw connections between the two. It's a little different though, since every time I'd meet with him, he'd personally summoned me. All I ever had to do was seek him out. Maybe it's because the realm belonged to him personally.
But if that were true, that'd mean the space back there belonged to Zelda, which only raises more questions than it answers. Was she just sitting there waiting all that time, or did I call her with the song?
Grumbling softly, I take another bite out of the bread.
The doors of the Great Hall open, but I don't entirely register the sound through my mental fog. Gobber starts saying something, probably greeting someone or scolding a recruit about something.
I'm still stuck in my brainstorming, going over a few different thoughts and possibilities while absentmindedly taking more bites out of my bread. I don't even realize that I'm running out of bread until I stop just shy of biting into my empty hand. I look up to grab another loaf and it's just now that I notice my new seatmate.
It's the blonde girl from before, Astrid. She's sitting across from me with her own plate of food. She's eating, but seems more focused on me than she does her own plate.
"You make a habit of staring at people?" I blurt out while reaching for another piece of bread.
"Only the weird ones. Link, right?"
I grunt affirmatively through another bite of bread. It's actually pretty good the more I eat of it. "And you're Astrid, the go-getter of the group." She nods back through her own bites of food.
"Hope you're not still sore from training." The words come off as smugger than I intended, but she doesn't seem to be bothered by them.
She shakes her head and swallows before responding, "It was a good exercise. I haven't seen someone fight the way you do before. Especially not the way you took down that dragon."
Her eyes narrow ever so slightly. She's not talking about the dragon from training, but the nightmare, the one I'd killed upon arriving on the island. She brought it up back outside the arena before, but apparently she's still not over it. Competitive sort, maybe.
"I've got more than my fair share of fights under my belt. You scrap with enough different things, you start to learn how to be unpredictable." I try to shift the subject off the dragon without making it too obvious. Astrid doesn't seem to catch on, instead of just nodding as she follows along.
"I'll be around for a while, I figure, so maybe I'll get to sharing some of my tricks."
"You mean like with Hiccup?"
Her sudden accusation catches me off guard, but all I offer back is an eyebrow raise in response.
"You just seem to be hanging around him a lot. Not many people do, especially not newcomers." She's looking me up and down as she talks, probably referring to my green garb.
She's definitely a lot harder to read than Hiccup is, but I can still catch a hint of jealousy underneath her words. Can't tell on which end though. "Well, he's the first one I met. Seems a decent kid, figured it wouldn't hurt to hang with him."
Before she can open her mouth to retort, the doors of the hall swing open again, rather loudly. This time it's the triple threat of annoying; Snotlout and the twins. They're arguing about something again, of course, continuing their chatter even as they start to grab some plates. I see Snotlout coming over towards my side of the table, so I quickly pull aside a plate in the space next to me. He catches on quick, and settles for sitting next to Fishlegs.
The twins sit across from him, continuing their debate. Now that they're closer, it seems to be something about their performance in training earlier today. I put a finger up to hush Astrid and pretend to be interested in their conversation, as long as it gets me off this topic.
Curious girl, huh. Kinda like Beth, but a little scarier.
Quite a bit older too, actually. I assumed earlier that these kids were on the younger side thanks to their height, but now that I notice, I'm probably only a few years older than they are. Little weird that they're only now starting training, then, if they're a fighting village.
The latest trio to enter seems to be gathering the others into the discussion about now, as they start to review their training under the guidance of Gobber, now. It starts with Snotlout, outlining the parts he'd messed up earlier today. Gobber leads with a question, trying to coax the response from the other recruits like a learning experiment. There's a few callouts, some joking, and some serious.
The target then moves onto Ruffnut, then Tuffnut, although their mistakes were more or less the same. Fishlegs catches some heat briefly, much to his dismay. I try to bail him out a little bit by taking charge of the discussion, preventing any ruder comments from being made. Eventually, it's Astrid's turn. Shockingly, she's doing most of the critiquing herself, although I guess I should start getting used to that. Snotlout tries to offer up some words of encouragement, but it really comes off more like senseless flirting. Towards the tail end of Astrid's self analysis, the doors of the hall open up once more, this time bring Hiccup with them.
His hair is wet, actually. Now that I can see behind him, it's started to rain.
Gobber jumps on the opportunity, though. "And where did Hiccup go wrong?" Oh boy, here we go.
Ruffnut pipes up first. "He didn't get eaten."
Her brother piggybacks with a sneer. "He showed up?"
I think about cutting them off, but I see Gobber circling around behind them with his hands raised, so I just keep my mouth closed and wait.
Once again, Astrid brings the topic back on track with a serious answer. "He's never where he should be."
Hiccup doesn't seem bothered by the jeers, or at least he isn't letting it show. He starts to walk past the group with his plate in hand, but I make sure he takes a seat next to me. Astrid gives him a glance as she makes her assessment, but Hiccup makes no attempt to meet her gaze.
"Thank you, Astrid," Gobber calls out loudly. I catch the brief sight of the twins getting slapped upside the back of their heads, followed by some indignant yelps. He walks off as he continues. "You need to live and breathe this stuff." He wastes no time pulling a large book from underneath his left arm, tossing it onto the table. It makes a heavy thud, kicking up some crumbs as it does.
"The dragon manual." It's a simple leather book with a few symbols at each corner. At its center, there's a coiling insignia resembling a dragon. "Everything we know about every dragon we know of."
I lean in a bit closer to get a look at the book, first checking the pages. It's definitely aged, and if that didn't tell enough about the knowledge that might be in it, then the size certainly would. This thing is big, not unlike some history books decorating the castle. I'd only seen a few dragons between the attack on the village and the caged ones at the arena, but it looks like that only scratches the surface.
I pull the book over to myself and start thumbing through the pages, ignoring some of the protests from the other recruits. Gobber seems to be following my lead, but in his own way, as he's already walking off. I can't entirely drown out the sounds of Snotlout complaining, thanks to my sensitive ears. "Knowledge is good, you know. Keeps fights short and lives long," I say over the complaints.
The boy clears his throat before snapping back, "Yeah, well, maybe I like my fights long." I roll my eyes. It sounds like Fishlegs has started to engage him now, trying to sell him on the book. It seems to achieve the opposite effect though, as the twins, unsurprisingly, have taken Snotlout's side in the matter.
The group starts to disperse on their own, carrying their conversation out of the hall, albeit just as loud. Hiccup and Astrid are still next to me, watching me read over the book. The first few pages was mostly comprised of illustrations, but as I flip the next page over to one with text, I'm met with the unfortunate reality of being stuck in a place that's not Hyrule.
I can't read this text.
It's just as bad as trying to read old Gerudo; the script is entirely different. I thought I would be alright since I can still understand everyone else just fine, but I guess that was just a lucky coincidence. Astrid seems to catch onto my sudden frustrations, and asks, "What's wrong?"
"Turns out, I can't read this language."
"Really? You've been speaking just fine, though," Hiccup replies, the confusion clear in his voice.
I shrug and nudge the book closer to him. "Feel free. I'll just watch on."
He looks back at me with furrowed brows, but grabs hold of the oversized manual anyways. His eyes come back up to Astrid for what feels like the first time since he's been here. "So I guess we'll share?"
Astrid takes a moment to look between the two of us before pushing out of her seat. "Read it," she quickly mutters, already walking away. I watch her as she leaves, taking in the sound of Hiccup's awkward attempt at a farewell while she goes. The loud sound of the Great Hall's doors closing is followed up by a defeated sigh from him. I give him a quick pat on the shoulder before picking up yet another piece of bread.
"Lucky you. Got the whole book to yourself, huh."
"Yeah, totally," He groans.
He puts aside his embarrassment pretty quickly, choosing to finish off his plate before he gets started on the book. It's just us at the table, but the hall hasn't cleared out entirely, filling the air with a bit of ambient chatter. Hiccup's still not a talkative kid, but it doesn't feel as awkward as some of our earlier meetings thanks to the background noise.
Over time, the hall starts to clear out and the lights begin to dim. Hiccup lights a few small candles at our table, now clear of any plates and just left with the book and us two. He'd already started flipping through a few of the earlier pages, although at a relatively slow pace. He's reading the book out loud for me, much to my appreciation. It's mostly just an overview of the book with more illustrations scattered throughout.
"Dragon classifications... strike class, fear class, mystery class..." He begins to read off what sounds like a table of contents before flipping a few pages further. I'd like to take a more detailed look, but I can't complain.
The first dragon we look at is some sort of sea dragon called the Thunderdrum. The book notes some decidedly vicious features of the beast, namely its primary method of attack. It notably doesn't use fire, but rather a concussive sound wave to attack. I make note of the oddity and think back to the lightning based beast I'd fought earlier. The section finishes with the warning, "Extremely dangerous, kill on sight."
A few pages further, and we find ourselves looking at a massive dragon called the Timberjack. The book goes into more frightening detail about its razor sharp qualities, once again ending with the same advice to kill on sight.
More pages. This time, it's the Scauldron. Another aquatic monster, this one fighting with boiling water rather than fire. I make another note of this quality, and again of the dire warning indicating the end of the creature's page.
Hiccup starts to flip through at a faster pace, keeping up the narration, but skimming some more of the dragons details. With each new entry, his voice starts to get a bit more shaky. He seems jumpier too, getting startled by the sound of thunder every now and then. I can't entirely blame him though, the book seems to be making a point of describing only the most harrowing details about each dragon. And of course, at the end of each entry, there's the same warning. "Extremely dangerous, kill on sight."
The illustrations don't help. They're more than just sketches, every one adorned with pencil shading and depicting the dragon both at idle, and in the process of taking down its prey. Sometimes, this prey would be a person. There's various arrows pointing to particularly dangerous features of the beasts, and other points circled to call attention to them. Spines, spikes, wingspans, teeth, they're all drawn out to terrifying detail. I take in the images the best I can, recognizing a few of them as monsters from earlier.
Hiccup's pace quickens again, but I'm still managing to make out the drawings of dragons as he passes by. One in particular catches my attention so I stop him and ask him to go back to it.
Two wings, two small legs, and a long body adorned with spines from end to end. Topped off with the horrifying visage of razor sharp teeth belonging to a flat, almost fiendish head.
"I fought this thing."
Hiccup doesn't say much, he just looks at me before he starts reading off the page.
This nasty beast is known as the Skrill. It's a Strike class dragon, which puts it in a danger level befitting of only the fastest and smartest creatures. He reads over its capability to fire off lightning, which comes as little shock to me. Apparently, however, it doesn't end there. This thing is said to be able to ride lightning bolts to achieve ridiculous speeds, and even channel its electricity to defend itself.
There's no shortage of terrible descriptions of its capabilities all throughout its page, even moreso than the other dragons leading up to it. Some of the abilities being mentioned make me realize how few tools it used against me earlier. Hiccup finishes the page, once again repeating the typical warning.
"You fought off one of these?" Hiccup leans in for a whisper, despite the fact that we're the only ones here.
I shake my head. "I'm beginning to think it wasn't really interested in killing me."
"So what do you think it was after?"
I start to play back the battle in my head, primarily thinking on how it took a stationary position for most of the fight, just throwing lightning at me. The talons could have posed enough trouble for me alone, but combining its speed with those shots would have only made things worse. "Not sure," I reply honestly. "Maybe I stumbled into its territory and it just wanted me out. But a forest seems like a weird home for something that rides storms."
Hiccup puts a hand to his chin for a moment before pulling out a notebook. I can't see much in this light, but I catch a glimpse of some shapes, drawings probably. He opens up to a fresh page and starts scribbling something in it before putting it back.
"Come on, keep going." I move the subject off of the Skrill and decide to press on with the book. I've got all night to think about it, anyways.
He nods and continues to flip through. We see more of the same. Harrowing depictions of various dragons and all the wonderful ways they can kill a man. The same detailed illustrations all throughout, and the same warning on every last page.
Eventually, we get to a page that breaks the mold.
Two pages, no drawings.
"Night Fury." Hiccup's voice drops down to a whisper once more.
"Speed, unknown. Size, unknown. The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself."
My breath catches in my throat for a moment. A brief lapse of tension, but one that fades quickly. I refocus in on Hiccup's words.
"Never engage this dragon. Your only chance; hide and pray it does not find you."
He finishes his reading, and leans back in his chair. He stares into the darkness of the halls for a moment before he pulls back out the notebook and lays it down on the table, open to the two-page spread of his drawing from earlier.
I don't quite know how to respond to this newfound information, considering it conflicts with a lot of what's happened lately. It seems like Hiccup shares the same sentiment, as there's a long silence between the two of us. I end up breaking it first with a sigh before getting up.
"Come on, best you get some shut-eye." I give him a pat on the back and start making my way out of the hall, waiting for him. He follows suit soon enough, blowing out the candles and gathering his things first. It's still raining outside pretty hard, but nothing to be done about that. We end up going our separate ways without another word said, for obvious reasons.
Even once I've gotten back to my room, I still haven't been able to put my thoughts together properly.
Lingering on it isn't gonna do me any good, or so I tell myself. I strip down to my undershirt and hop into bed, ready to be done with thinking for the day. It's not gonna get easier from here, I figure, but hopefully I'll get a better handle on things with a bit of rest and a clear head. I close my eyes and let unconsciousness take me amidst the continued sound of rainfall.
That night, I dreamed of flying.
