Link looked down. He seemed troubled by the question hanging in the windy air. Rowark saved Miro Miro's life because he had a genuinely good heart. She could not say the same for Link's character. What possible reason did a ruthless ruffian have to save a fairy and keep her alive? "Because," he took a deep breath, "A memory came back to me. When I saw you." He looked into her eyes, like he was trying to recreate his memories and trance-like state during the fight.

All of a sudden, Miro Miro was no longer looking at a vicious criminal, only a Kokiri trying to remember his past, "What did you see?"

He closed his eyes to better focus the picture in his mind. "The Protector," he answered with a whisper.

"What was happening?"

With his eyes still closed, he described, "We were fighting in the forest right by the Lost Woods. I was holding a wooden sword, and she was holding the legendary Kokiri blade."

"Why?"

"I wanted to be the Protector. I wanted to hold her sword and wield it to protect the village. That's where I was from, wasn't I?"

"Yes, Link. Go on."

"I could smell the flowers. I could feel the summer wind. I could feel the freedom of knowing no one was trying to kill you," Link looked too relaxed to comfortably perch over a six story fall to his death. "What's that called again? That feeling?"

"Home."

Link smiled, "That one." With Link, it was hard to tell if his smile was genuine or not. His eyes opened. The hard, noon sunlight fiercely bounced off his green pupils and pierced through Miro Miro's soul with a strange feeling of familiarity. Topah had blue eyes, she quietly reminded herself.

"It wasn't her, though," Link's damaged eyes had a seriousness that could not betray his cold, dead voice, "I knew I was fighting that dung headed dunghole."

"How?"

"The Protector was right handed in my dream. But she was really left handed. I'll never forget that."

"What happened next?"

Link took a deep breath of the crisp air and exhaled, "I killed her." He hung his head and looked down the wall. "I killed her…" he repeated again with a quiver in his scratchy voice. Was he crying? Was that even possible for him? "I killed her…"

"In, in your dream?"

"Yes…," he croaked, "And… and… and she's gone..."

"Gone, as in, actually gone?"

Silently, he slowly nodded.

Then the stomach she never knew she had sank. Not the Protector. She was too kind and too pure to deserve a cruel fate. Miro Miro needed to let her "tummy" settle before she could ask any more questions, but the nausea turned into turned into overwhelming tears. She could only sputter out single word questions in between sobs, "How? Why? What happened?"

He turned his head away from her again, removed his black hood and his face mask, and revealed his ugly, scarred face to the sun. The sun's light was strong enough to catch glimpses of gold hidden in the grime and blood that covered his short hair. Tears began welling in his green eyes. He sighed and paused for a long time. Link's brow furrowed, debating on the answer mentally. "No," he finally said, "I can't. It's… it's too painful of a memory."

Miro Miro could not tell what emotion she felt exactly, but she could feel incredible sadness weighing heavily in her body and in her mood. "It's okay," she whispered back. It would be inconsiderate of her to ask Link to relive a traumatic moment in his life.

"But it's my only memory of her now," he said as he wiped a tear from his eye, a tender reminder that he had a heart underneath his damaged exterior, "What was she like?"

She hesitated for a heartbeat in order to digest all of her welling emotions. She supposed the best way to honor her memory was to talk about her, "Do you remember anything about her?"

"I have a terrible memory," was Link's sensible answer. Memories were things that mortals clung to so that they could live on through their friends and family. She spent one hundred and fourteen seasons and counting away from home. It seemed very likely that Link could have been living in Hyrule Castle City for an even longer period of time. She could not feel angry at him for forgetting the people he grew up with in the forest.

"Well," she started, "She was the Protector, so she had a big responsibility placed on her shoulders." Link nodded and smiled, "She had a very bright and cheery personality, and she was loved by all. I could go on."

"Please do," he sniffed. Link's encouragement surprised Miro Miro.

Armed with his approval, she perked up and began her rant, "For starters, all the girls didn't like her. They would make fun of her behind her back for having a boy's job, but really they were jealous that all the boys wanted to spend time with her."

"She was beautiful," Link chimed in, "and she could swing a sword better than anyone." Miro Miro delighted in the fact that Link was giving some effort to remembering his Kokiri past.

"Oh most definitely!" Miro Miro laughed, "She woke up early every morning to begin her training. And then twice a day she would teach a one hour class of 'sword art'. When half the boys were all missing from the village, we all knew what time it was. Topah was always the first to arrive and the last to leave her daily classes. And the Protector was always so patient with him when they trained together. She used to guide Topah's every step and correct every mistake, all while I chatted with the Protector's fairy guardian."

Link smiled and nodded, like he was happily absorbing the information. "What was her name?" he asked.

"The protector's fairy guardian was named Renna."

"No. Her name," Link corrected, "The Protector's name."

"Oh." She had to pause and think about that for a second. Just as she could not remember what Topah looked like, she could not remember the Protector's name. What was it? She felt so embarrassed for not knowing.

"It's fine if you don't remember, I don't think anyone called her by her actual name. I was just wondering if you remembered it or not," he said disappointedly, but the scars on his face made it hard for Miro Miro to see through to his emotions altogether. "Tell me more about... the Kokir-whatever-they're-called," said Link as he yawned.

"The Kokiri?" she corrected.

"Yeah, them."

Where to even start? "Well, the Kokiri are children from the forest. They are born from the Great Deku Tree, and they never get old."

"They don't age? They stay children forever?"

"That's correct."

A little light twinkled behind his eyes, like he had just connected a bunch of dots in his mind, "Huh… I always wondered about myself. All the other Links grew up, except for me." Other Links? Did he mean to say other children? Were there others that shared his name? As informative as Link had been thus far, each answer only produced more vexing questions. "How old am I exactly?" he asked her.

"Well, you must have been alive before I got lost in the forest," reasoned Miro Miro, "which means you must be at least twenty eight years old."

Deep thoughts ran through his mind, at least that was how Miro Miro interpreted his long silence. "Twenty eight years," he muttered quietly to himself, "Twenty eight years. I'd forgotten so much. It's good to know for sure I wasn't born here. I must have came to the city many years ago, but I don't remember why though." How in the world did a Kokiri find himself so far from home? More importantly, who was he? Miro Miro searched through the faces in her memory bank and attached each name with a face as best as she could. But there was no one she remembered named Link. The name had a familiar ring, but it seemed to be attached to memories from over fifty years ago. "So before I lived here in this dump, I lived in a village that followed a big talking tree?"

"He's NOT a 'big talking tree', he is the Great Deku Tree!" Miro Miro fired back passionately, "A 'big talking tree' does not give counsel when times are dire, nor does he protect you from the dangers of the outside world! The Great Deku Tree was the nicest father you could have ever wanted. His heart overflowed with kindness even for those who wished him and his children harm. He was our protector and our provider."

Link huffed, "Sorry, all right? Sheesh."

Tears streamed out of Miro Miro's eyes in anger, "He's your father! I know not which Kokiri you once were, but no matter what, I know he was your father! He once gave you shelter, gave you food, and gave you love! He loved each and all of his children equally! He loved you, and he loved me like he loved the Protector, and Mido, in spite of his foul disposition at choice times!"

"Who is Mido?"

"He was leader who ran the day to day duties of managing the village…"

He was the leader of the Kokiri Forest, or the supreme overlord, which was what he preferred to be called. He had five close friends who helped him run administrative operations. He was kind of a bossy person and a jerk, but he also had a great responsibility placed on his shoulders, even more so than the Protector did. Kokiri Forest's population had risen to over three hundred. Not only was he responsible for their well being, but he and his close ring of friends were the only ones who were allowed contact with the outside world to protect the secrecy of the forest.

Miro Miro took no notice of Link as she continued babbling about Kokiri Forest's open and free society, the playdates, and the festivals. Completely oblivious to Link's dozing off, she continued her lengthy lecture, "Every beginning of the tendo, everyone in the village would gather to the village center and celebrate with a big bonfire. And then there was a great big festival at the beginning of every season! The children would spend the entire previous day preparing for the festival, and then they would celebrate with dancing, music, and the best smelling food you could ever think of! The seasonal celebrations were always my favorite! Do they celebrate seasons here in Hyrule Castle City? Well, I hope they do…"

At least she was having fun babbling on. Miro Miro eventually found out that Link was carelessly asleep while sitting on a window several stories up. She gathered a deep inhale and unleashed a scream, "HEY! Are you listening?!"

Link jolted awake and then turned his head downwards to examine how close he was to death. And then turned around with a deadly glare in his eye, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to kill me."

Oddly, Miro Miro knew she would feel bad if Link had indeed fallen to his death. She quietly apologized, "I'm sorry."

Link's body pivoted around and retracted back into the room. The cone shaped ceiling combined with the extensive diameter made the room seem gigantic. Beautiful and colorful tapestries were draped along the room's perimeter. Part of the circular wall jutted outwards and created bench space for Link to lay on and pass out. He curled into a ball, back facing away from the wall, on the soft, pillowy cushions covering the stone bench.

Miro Miro continued her lecture about the beautiful home they came from until she noticed Link was lying still, unresponsive to her lecturing. Maybe even asleep.

Link looked like he needed the rest, and Miro Miro now had a chance to examine the boy more closely as he slept. He sure liked to be dressed in black for some reason. His black cloak was completely shredded, but it seemed like he continued wearing it because he liked the hood. A stretchy black cloth extended over his nose and mouth. Upon closer look, there were blood stains crusted over the mouth area.

She felt creeped out for examining Link as he was sleeping. Since she figured Link was fast asleep, she had all the time to pick apart all the features and details of each tapestry. The one she stopped in front of depicted a Gerudo King standing above dozens of women groveling before him. The sun behind his back had the facial features of a Gerudo woman, was she a Goddess of some sort? Sand dunes highlighted the barren nature of their desert home. Was this man Ganondorf? Red beard with brownish, grayish skin, it had to be him.

To quell any doubt in her mind, the tapestry to the right depicted Ganondorf holding his hand up with a glowing Triforce in his left hand. The Triforce of power chose him to go forth from the desert and conquer. But he was not alone in this endeavor. The rest of his Gerudo followers were shown standing guard in front of a fortress looking building. Ganondorf's ambition was his and his alone.

The next tapestry showed Ganondorf doing battle with the Hero of Time outside the castle. The weaved depiction of the master sword and the Kokiri hat was unmistakable. Everyone knew this story, or history rather. There was a Gerudo, wearing pink Gerudo pants and a white crop top, standing behind the Hero against Ganondorf. Was this the Sage of Spirit Nabooru? And if so, why was only she depicted and not any of the other sages?

In the next tapestry, Nabooru stepped up to lead the Gerudo after Ganondorf's demise, and she stood with her left foot leaning on the edge of a cliff overlooking her new crowd of followers. But there was something amiss. Some of the women in this tapestry were colored gray, but in all the tapestries before, the Gerudo were depicted as having one skin tone. In the tapestries afterwards, this division in skin color apparently became the theme. What started as skirmishes between the two groups eventually turned into war.

Until finally, the gray skinned group was forced to leave the desert. That was the last tapestry of the tale. What became of the Gerudo was unknown. The tragedy evoked much sadness within her. Did people truly fight and kill each other over the difference in skin color? The idea of killing for survival was a matter she could grow to handle. But the idea of killing over a difference in skin color left a rotten feeling in her gut.

Link tossed and grunted as he slept. "Link?" checked Miro Miro, to which there was no response. He continued tossing and turning violently and began muttering with each breath,

"Four hundred. Three hundred. Four fifty. Three fifty. Five hundred. Four hundred…"