Miro Miro knew something went wrong when she made eye contact with the boy. He released the grip of his left hand to hold his head. His right hand, unable to keep the blade lifted, let the heavy metal fall to the ground.
Suddenly he relaxed his body. His left hand drooped from his face and dangled at the end of his arm like a pendulum. His torso was bent over, but his legs were active and bent, keeping him in balance even though he looked mentally absent.
Miro Miro was afraid that the Zola would attack while the boy was seemingly unconscious, but at this point she had no idea who to root for: an ugly bully or a demon child. She still could not fathom that the blood stained on the boy's shirt came from a living, being only moments ago. The goat's throat being cut open made Miro Miro feel nausea. The murder of the two man-at-arms made the problem worse. But the brutal execution of the poor, red-haired child had truly sent Miro Miro over the edge.
Fairies did not have stomachs. The were given bodies resembling the form of the goddesses, but these balls of energy were never given any of the physiological features. After all, they never ate. So she was in for a surprise when she wretched after watching the execution take place. She did not know fairies were even subject to vomiting, but something liquidy escaped from her mouth. A droplet of, something, forced itself up from inside and expelled downward toward the ground. The droplet produced its own white light that radiated as strongly as Miro Miro's natural light did. It splashed like a water droplet upon hitting the ground and dripped down the pile of garbage.
That boy wasn't a Kokiri. She refused to believe it. The Kokiri of the forest would sometimes pee whenever they listened to a scary story, and most would instinctively cry at the sight of a droplet of blood. Miro Miro had just watched the lone boy repeatedly stab a child, only slightly older than he, multiple times in the face. What kind of Kokiri, let alone a young child, was even capable of such cruelty?
Right when both she and the Zola thought he indeed was out cold, the boy bent over to pick up his sword off the ground and held the tip pointed to the Zola's heart.
"I will be the Protector of the forest!" he cried out with a terrifying, dried up, croak. His declaration sounded like Ganondorf had possessed the body from beyond the sacred realm's seal.
No way, conceded Miro Miro; only a Kokiri would know who the Protector of the Forest was. It was like the child living back in the forest. His relaxed and unfocused look resembled the calm and looseness in his body. The child and the Zola circled each other clockwise; Miro Miro was unsure what either one would do. The boy toyed with the weapon and twirled it like it weighed nothing. The Zola was clearly afraid of that sword, but because the Zola's face had that eternal, cursed grin, it was hard to tell what exactly he was feeling.
His two cheek fins flared outward like a bird stretching its wings, and then the Zola jumped forward for the attack. For a heartbeat, it looked like the boy was not going to do anything at all.
Then, before a mouse could finish blinking, the boy raised the sword high into the air, separating the Zola's hand from the arm and, subsequently, the nailed club from the hand. Miro Miro instantly felt her stomach turn.
And when the sword plunged downwards, separating flesh and bone, Miro Miro wretched again.
It was the sight of the sword buried in the Zola's body that made the reality of the city full of violence finally settle in Miro Miro's mind. It was a completely different Hyrule from the one that the stories the Fairy Mothers would tell. Another drop of glowing goo fell onto the ground.
She heard a whisper escape from the boy, who was kneeling on the ground and clutching his bandaged hand, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Was he apologizing to the victim? It was hard to tell once the boy picked his head up to survey his surrounding. He then stood up and yanked the blade from the body, and then wiped the blood off on a part of his shirt that was not yet stained with red.
That only left the two remaining teens, whose expressions were nothing short of fearful. The younger one trembled uncontrollably, hoping the safety of his dying companion would calm him down. The older blonde struggled to gasp for air, but he was succeeding at the very least.
Their eyes looked upward and saw the victor walking toward them with his sword resting on his shoulder. As soon as the boy came within striking distance, Miro Miro looked away as he brought down the sword quickly.
The boy's croaky voice was low pitched like an adult man's voice, "Do I have a reason to kill you?" Miro Miro turned around and saw that the sword was extended until the tip was a finger's length away from the younger one's nose.
He quickly shook his head, "No! Leave us alone! We'll never see each other again!"
The boy moved the sword's steel from their faces, "Good."
The sight of mercy baffled Miro Miro. Where was the mercy for the slain? Perhaps what upset Miro Miro the most was the child's power to dictate who lived and who died. The boy wielded this power frighteningly with the utmost authority and arrogance in his every swing. Many years ago, The Great Deku Tree warned that once a person killed, that person was always willing to do it again. This corrupt power of determining life and death was as deadly as a raging forest fire.
That was why the Great Deku Tree entrusted the Kokiri forest's most sacred weapon with one who understood the consequences. If the sword was used to kill someone for any reason, The Great Deku Tree would strip the humanity from the Protector and banish him or her into the Lost Woods as a wandering, wicked spirit that roamed the darkest parts of the forest, otherwise known as a Skull Kid. All who lived in the forest knew the legend of Majora. But as cruel as Majora's fate was, all the Great Deku Tree ever wanted was for the Protector to find new, nonviolent solutions to solve conflicts.
Just as the boy turned around, a glass bottle shot upward, and a metal lid closed as soon as Miro Miro's body came into contact with the bottom. A bald and wrinkly old man smiled exuberantly as his two hands clamped onto the glass jar, "Gotcha!" That blood curdling voice belonged to the same shopkeeper who tried to capture Miro Miro earlier.
Miro Miro tried to fly out, but the solid glass painfully reflected her off. She tried to burst through the metal lid to no avail.
She did not want to consider the possibility of asking the cold blooded murderer for help. But she also valued not being trapped more than risking interaction with the ruthless killer. With no other options, Miro Miro pressed herself at the edge of the glass and yelled, "Help!"
The boy rolled his eyes and sighed, as if choosing to save Miro Miro's life was his absolute last priority. His hands lifted the blade again. "Sorry," he said before charging at the shopkeeper.
Clutching the jar like it had a lot of value, the frail, old man unleashed a high pitched shriek. The man's skinny legs worked as hard as they could to get away from the incoming maniac. Miro Miro bounced around the jar, unable to keep up with the jar's unpredictable movements and unable to see anything outside the jar clearly. She could only hear her kidnapper's rapid footsteps and breathing.
It was not long that Miro Miro could hear a second set of footsteps quickly approaching. "AH!" the shopkeeper yelped as he tripped forward. The jar slipped through the man's arms and crashed upon the dirt ground below. Miro Miro flew towards freedom, and turned around to see the child catch up to the shopkeeper trying to get up to his knees.
Miro Miro squealed as the young boy swung his sword, with control and strength resembling those of a full grown warrior, and stopped the blade as it pointed at his next victim's neck, the tip barely grazing the sweat running down his wrinkly jowl. The blade lifted up, and gently guided the shopkeeper upward, until he was supported by both his bony knees.
"Please," the shopkeeper clasped his hands together and began trembling as his eyes welled up, "Please." A tear fell down off his cheek bone, and left a moist, circular mark upon the dirt.
"Please!" Miro Miro spontaneously exclaimed, "Please spare his life!" She had seen enough loss of life for one lifetime, as big of a jerk as the shopkeeper was.
The boy smirked. Then he pivoted on his foot, winding his torso, and unleashed a powerful swing. It was a fast swing, so fast that before Miro Miro could scream, "NOOO!" the body and the head were already in the midst of falling to the ground separately.
Miro Miro violently hurled once again and continued hurling as blood escaped from its once living source. The longer the body was left there, the bigger the pool of blood. After Miro Miro recovered from vomiting, she and the murderer shared an uncomfortable silence between them. He turned around and gave her a frightening stare down.
Scar tissue had turned the boy's face into a misshapen figure. The green eyes, the nose, and the mouth were all in the wrong places, and the scars holding those parts in place looked like it was digging ditches across his face. The nose was almost sickeningly crooked. The right side of his mouth had a scar that ran from the corner of the lip to his mid cheek, probably the most distinguishing scar. The years and years of fighting had permanently painted an evil smirk on his right face. Mud, muck, and blood covered his entire body, even on his open wounds. She wagered this boy had not seen a bath in a very long time.
All the scars on his body could not hide the incredibly chiseled body the boy had. Divots and ditches of scar tissue also ran along his arms and cut into the muscle. Even though his muscular frame was larger than the normal frame of the Kokiri, wielding the sword the way he did still seemed improbable for a child his size.
His tunic was as red as a rose. She wretched again. The evil grin looked even worse when he actually smirked, "You fairies puke this stuff?" He bent over with the bloody blade resting on his shoulder and touched the gooey liquid with two fingers.
"Ew! What are you doing?" Miro Miro yelled with futility. The boy wiped the goo across his evil scar on his cheek. It glowed even brighter when it came into contact with the scar tissue, and then it melted into the concave space. When the glow disappeared, his scar was healed, skin as good as new. His clean, healed patch of skin was now the only part with no grime and muck.
"Neat!" he said as he bent down for another helping. After he applied all that was left on the ground, the boy still looked, ugly, but not as sinister.
"Wh- Wh-" She wanted to say "Who are you?" but instead it came out as, "Who, why, why did you kill those people?"
Without giving his answer any time for thought, the boy replied, "Because I needed to." He started walking back towards the scene of the fight.
Miro Miro froze at his cold answer. Curse me! She had twenty eight years in the forest to plan exactly what she would say to the first Kokiri she ever laid eyes on. But here he was, standing in front of her with a bloody sword in his hand. What could she say to such a menace? "You're still a killer!"
"HA!" the boy laughed out loud, "No dung, you dungbrain!" his laughter continued to echo throughout the quiet alley. "You know what's the best part about being a killer?" he asked as he wiped the blood off of his pants. Then he walked back to the scene of the battle.
After a long silence, Miro Miro asked, "What is it?"
"I get paid to do it." His cold answer sent chills into Miro Miro's body.
"That's," she did not know what "getting paid" meant, but it clearly meant that he was encouraged to do so, "that's no justification for taking the life of another! Y-you were taught better!"
"By whom?"
The response shocked Miro Miro. He forgot about the Great Deku Tree? How could he forget? "You know, your father, the Great Deku Tree."
"Now you're just sounding like a cult leader."
"No! You are a Kokiri!"
"I'm lost."
As they passed by the boy with stab wounds in his face, Miro Miro pressed further, "You're a Kokiri! You were taught by the Great Deku Tree that all life was precious!"
The boy picked up the sword's large scabbard and began wiping the muck off, "A Kokir-what? And what in Din's Hearth is a Great Deku Tree?"
Miro Miro wanted to cry right then and there. How could a Kokiri forget his own parent, the very one who created his life? "How, how can you not know who He is? He gave life to you!"
"Did you come all the way here to tell me I was born from a tree? Did my deadbeat father send you here to judge to me to death? Because I am an ungrateful child? Or are you trying to spread the good word of this 'Great Deku Tree'?" his insolence towards the father he probably had not seen in many decades was unprecedented, and it made Miro Miro more furious and less understanding. He sheathed the oversized sword and began walking down the alleyway.
"Wait, where are we going?" Miro Miro asked as she followed him.
"It's 'where am I going'. There is no we. And I'm going to lay low for a while."
"What do you mean, lay low for a while?"
The boy sighed, "I'm going to a place that will shelter me for the night. Hopefully." At least the boy did not drive her away.
Because she did not know whether she would ever come across another Kokiri, she reluctantly followed the demon child. Miro Miro did not want to let silence make the cold, clammy atmosphere any more frightening than it already was, "You mentioned before that you had a method to killing." Her loud voice echoed through the shadowed alley, but it did not bother her. If it were to attract trouble, it would be nothing this murderer and his sword could not handle.
"You wanna know why I killed those three and spared the rest?"
It was hard for her to say yes. But her desire to explore the Kokiri's mind pestered her to continue asking questions she would never imagine asking in her lifetime. After all, he could have been the only person who knew where Topah could be, "Why did you kill the first one?"
"To scare off the first three."
"Did you have to brutally kill him like that?"
"Like what? Stabbing him in the face over and over again? He was dead after the blade hit his neck. A wound like that can end the strongest men in several heartbeats. All the extra stabs were just to scare off the new guys in the gang." Miro Miro hated to admit it, but the logic of killing one person in order to avoid killing three others was sound. With little experience in the way of fighting, she had little alternative scenarios to propose.
Miro Miro was disgusted at herself for being satisfied with his answer, but she continued her probing, "Then what about the Zola?"
"He was their leader. If I left him alive, he would have ran off, recruited another gang, and then hunted me until either one of us breathed our last breath."
She wanted to ask how the boy knew the Zola would do such a thing, but he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Miro Miro moved on, "And why did you show mercy to those two boys?"
"I meant to kill the older one, but I accidentally missed his vitals. But so long as they stayed out of my way, I did not have to kill his younger brother."
"How did you know they were brothers?"
"I just do okay?" the boy's impatience raised the level of his voice, "I didn't survive in Hyrule Castle Dump by swinging a sword, I did it by knowing things. They looked alike, and the older bigger guy was acting protective of the smaller guy, something only family would do. And if the older brother died, I would have had to kill the younger one too in case he decided to avenge his only family." Once again, Miro Miro cursed herself for having no rebuttal for his logic.
She had to press on to the last victim, "And, what about the shopkeeper?"
The boy did not immediately respond, "I needed the practice."
"What!" the answer shocked her, like she actually expected a reasonable answer from a heartless murderer, "How could you be so heartless? Just because he was not a nice person does not mean he deserved to...!"
The boy came to a stop and swiveled around quickly to interrupt her, "He was about to sell your blood for five silver rupees!" What did he mean by that? Miro Miro reluctantly listened in silence. "If his life was truly worth something, next time escort me to a slaver so I can make some rupees off him," the boy turned back around and continued walking down the endless alleyway.
What was a slaver? Why were people after her blood? Questions about Hyrule in its current state swirled around her head so violently that she could not figure out which question to ask the boy first. But at this point, she also did not want to know the answer to any of them.
"Let me ask you this question," he broke the hanging silence and then used a mocking voice to ask her, "How come you do not ask why that guy tried to capture you? How come you do not ask why that gang attacked me? Why do I strike you as the villain?" the questions struck Miro Miro dumb. All the previous questions she wanted to ask him vanished; instead, she pooled all strings of thought together to try and answer him.
Although Miro Miro was unable to summon an immediate answer without looking like the judgmental mother that the Kokiri so desperately needed, she could not leave the boy's flawed opinions, or his bad manner, unchecked, so she squeaked out the most uncomfortable response to counter what were probably the hardest questions she had ever faced, "Because, you, you committed sin?" Deku nuts! She did not mean to make that answer sound like a question.
"Ha! Sin is just some stupid thing that changes whether you're this person or that person," the cold hearted words sent a chill down Miro Miro's soul.
She had to fight back against his evil! "Killing is a sin! There is nothing to be debated about it!"
"Says who? This Great Deku Tree that you're so fond of?" Miro Miro was quickly getting tired of the Kokiri's rhetorical questions and his clear disrespect of the Father of the Forest, the being that was responsible for giving her purpose. She could feel the boy's condescending tone fuel the fire that made her blood boil, "If you are not aware, this is not the forest. In fact..."
The boy turned around once again, but this time he drew his knife and pointed the tip right at Miro Miro. She gulped loudly. Without any caution, the boy raised his voice above a level that seemed wise, "If you're so disgusted by everything I do, why you are even following me!? If I were you, I would fly straight back to whatever forest you came from, where a gigantic tree can tell you what is right and what is wrong, and everyone lives happily ever after like in all the stories! Because this reality is much different, and I don't think you're ready to find out how ugly this city can get."
Up until that moment, everything Miro Miro had witnessed confirmed the boy's inconvenient truths. After seeing numerous people die in the past two days, she felt like Hyrule Castle City was trying its best to force her out. Seeing people kill each other made her feel sick. Seeing people suffering made her feel helpless. And it felt like Hyrule Castle City only offered those two feelings to all her forsaken guests.
"No", Miro Miro steeled herself, this harsh place will not break me! Silence ensued as she mentally battled against the anguish that was slowly trying to settle in her being. She spent twenty eight years wandering the Lost Woods looking for Topah without any sign of hope. This Kokiri in front of her, despite his evil persona, was the first Kokiri she had seen in years. If a Kokiri lived in the city, then there was a chance that Topah could be in the city as well.
"No," she said again. She prayed to Farore that this was not the case, and not for the obvious reason of cutting her time spent in the city as short as possible.
"'Scuse me?" the child lowered his dagger.
"No! I came here for a reason!"
Silence. His eyes seemed to dig into her soul, her very fiber of existence. It was like he was trying to pry the truth out of Miro Miro. "And what reason might that be?" asked the boy.
She resolutely declared in the middle of the decaying alley, "I came here to the city to find my lost companion, Topah. Maybe you know something about him?" It was stab in the dark, but it felt better than aimlessly wandering the endless, dark forest.
After several more heartbeats of the one sided staring contest, the boy finally responded. "No, don't know the guy," he said as he turned around and continued his way to his intended destination, "Follow me."
Miro Miro felt relieved. She still held contempt and distrust for this Kokiri, but she was somehow confident that this boy, like Rowark, was at least not trying to kill her. Something in her gut told her that she could trust him that much. As he neared the end of the alleyway, the ray of light at the end of the path felt inviting.
Before he stepped into the open space, she felt obligated to ask the most important question, "What is your name?"
For three long heartbeats, Miro Miro prayed to the Great Deku Tree and the Golden Goddesses that the answer was not Topah. "Link," he finally replied.