Chapter 4: Victim of Circumstances?
Darkness circled about him predatory and dangerous. It swiped and tore at him as he struggled to free himself from its enigmatic domain. The fear and panic propelling him through the brush were familiar companions that urged him on. Thorny branches reached for him, clawing at his face and ripping at his clothes as he ran. He couldn't see the creature behind him, but it was unrelenting in its pursuit. Trees continued to lash out at him, roots in the very ground tangled at his feet. He kept upright, and he kept moving. The foliage above had knitted together, blocking out almost any light. Blood trickled down his face, his arms, and legs. He knew from experience how this would end, and that realization suddenly made him very angry. It was a game that sickened him to his stomach. His body was shaking when he came to a dead halt. He turned to face the creature.
He was startled to find an unusual little girl staring back at him, looking concerned and empathetic. She had hair like starlight and skin as pale as the glowing moon. Oddly, the forest seemed more inclined to frame itself around her rather than reach to devour her. Her voice was small and gentle. "I'm not him. You have nothing to fear from me, Florian," she said with a sad shake of her head. Her large dark eyes radiated compassion.
It was irrational, but Florian let his guard down and felt himself flood with relief. He was so tired. The young man had no reason to trust the girl, but he didn't resist when she stepped forward and took his hand. He let her lead him out of the forest and into a small open area with a gently flowing spring. She seemed unbothered by the blood dripping down his hand and onto her own. A starry night sky hung above with a full moon set in its center. Somehow along the way, he'd become a little boy again, and the little girl had suddenly become a young woman.
"You need to heal," she said in nurturing tones while stepping aside and beckoning him forward.
Florian knelt down to look in the pool and saw the moonlight gleaming off his copper blonde hair. Light reflected off the surface of the water, illuminating the gold in his brown eyes. Blood from the cuts on his face dripped into the water and rippled the surface. The water further reddened when he put both hands into the pool. It felt so good he kept going until he was in up to his elbows. He closed his eyes to take a calming breath. But when he leaned back, he quickly found he couldn't. Dread and fear made him turn to call for the strange woman-child… but she was gone. His body jolted when he heard her speak softly to him from the surface of the pool, mere inches from his face. For a moment, she had been monstrous and pig-like, further startling him. In the span of a heartbeat, she was her lovelier self once more.
"There's a special place for thieves, murderers, and monsters… A place filled with others just like you," she said oddly as though to reassure him, even though her words did nothing of the sort.
The moon and the water of the pool began to darken. The woman's moonlit skin and starlight hair also became like the night.
Florian attempted to pull away without success. The world flipped, and it was him in the water and the woman sitting on the edge of the pool. She pushed his head down beneath the dark water rough and hard. Two hands, unlike any he'd seen among the five races, began to reach for his forearms and pull him down. Florian fought hard until he managed to pull the lower half of his body out of the water and freed one of his arms from the monstrous grasp. His head and right arm remained submerged. Lungs burning for air, water rushed up to his nose and down his throat.
He awoke suddenly, coughing and sputtering for air while cradling his right arm from a burning sensation. His body jerked upright but not for long. He felt something large and heavy slam into his chest, forcing him to bash the back of his head onto a thin cushion. A low growl, a massive paw on his breastbone, and the glint of canines warned him to lay very still. His surprise wore off, and Florian let out a breath of exasperation through his nose. The dog returned the gesture with a spray of saliva and more growling. It took a moment, but he realized he and the unfriendly hound were slowly rocking back and forth inside a small covered wagon.
The confused young man looked around as best he could in his current position and took in his surroundings. He was lying on a small bed with a quilt pulled over his legs. There was a metal storage compartment and a chest of drawers next to one another, lying parallel on one side of the wagon. There were more storage compartments and sacks filled with unknown items on the other side. A small lantern, several dried herbs, and cooking utensils were hanging from wooden braces secured to the wagon bows.
"Hey, hey, hey back there," chided the voice of an older woman. "Is our guest awake?"
"Yes! Yes, I am!" Florian called out urgently. "And, I think your dog wants to eat my face!"
Just then, a head covered in thick, snowy white hair appeared directly above his own, followed by a leather-gloved hand shoving the dog's face away from his. The end of a long, white braid thick as rope landed on Florian's face. Apparently, the bed was propped against the wagon's driving seat with only a curtain to separate the two.
"Pay her no mind. That's just Rooster." The older woman said, laughing brightly from the driving seat while whipping her braid back over her shoulder. "No need to worry. She's mostly vegetarian."
Florian sat up slowly, keeping an eye on Rooster and rubbing the dog slobber from his face. "Mostly?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, unless I say otherwise," the older woman answered playfully. "Of course, judging from the saliva on your face, maybe she took just a nibble."
Rooster was a large hunting dog with long, ruffled, white fur splattered with reddish-brown markings as though someone had dipped a paintbrush in mud and flicked it at her repeatedly. Her brownish head also looked like a bucket of muck had been dumped on it. The menace displayed only moments before was replaced by her mistress's easygoing manner. The dog's tongue lolled out her mouth as she sat back on her haunches.
"And this is Silkie!" the old woman continued with introductions, while further moving aside the curtain to show another large hunting dog sitting next to her on the spacious driving seat. Silkie had long, smooth fur as pure white as her mistress's. The old woman shifted her body to show what looked like the oldest hen he'd ever seen sitting on her left shoulder. "This right here is my Daisy In March!" The chicken let loose a string of strangled clucks and blinked one cloudy eye. "And the steed pulling this hen house is Cappie," she finished proudly pointing in front of herself at a black horse wearing a long, red stocking cap.
Florian waited for the old woman to introduce herself, but she continued to smile at him with expectation. He noticed, unlike the chicken, the old woman's eyes were clear, bright, and blue.
"My name is Fl-" he started initially. Then thinking better of it finished, "My name is Flinn."
"Well, I'm sure you are darlin'," she responded as though this had been obvious. She returned to staring at him pleasantly.
"Oh, and… thank you…for helping me," Florian added awkwardly. "I think?"
She nodded. "Believe me, it's better if you say thank you first. And you're welcome," she exclaimed, finally seeming satisfied. "You can call me Linny." She turned to face the road she was driving on but continued to speak with him. Her long braid returned to trailing down the back of her dark green cloak. "You still look a little peaked; otherwise, I'd ask you to come to sit up here with me."
Florian was about to argue but realized Linny was right. He still felt drained and tired, but definitely better than he'd felt in the underground chamber. He glanced down at his hands and rubbed them together nervously. He was surprised and relieved to find they looked the way they always did - except for his left hand, which had healed but had a large, nasty scar.
The look in Florian's face went far away as he thought about his dual shot knife plunging down through the center of his palm. The memory caused him to jolt. He continued to clench and unclench his fist. There was a stiffness that hadn't been there before. The burning sensation on his forearm from earlier had subsided, but he wanted to roll up his sleeve to inspect his arm. When he noticed Linny giving him a sidelong glance, he quickly lowered his hand from her view.
"Hmmm," she assessed. "Well, you seem sane enough. But you also look like you got a story to tell. How about you start by explaining why you were trying to boil yourself to death in the hot springs near the Maw of Death Mountain?
Florian jolted at the old woman's directness.
She shrugged, "Well, there are quicker ways, you know."
"Hot springs?" he said, caught off guard. "I wasn't trying-"
"You could have fooled me," she interjected. "I was coming back down Death Mountain when I found you floating as well as a stone in soup. I had to kick off my flamebreaker armor so I could pull you out. It would've done no good if I sunk and drowned with you… The pair of us would have been like a couple of over boiled potatoes."
Florian thought about everything he knew about the hot springs on Death Mountain, the most important fact being that their healing properties were renowned.
Linny continued on, "The Goddesses only knows how long you'd been floating, but you still looked worse for wear. I had to use several fairies on you just to make sure you'd make it, which is never a good sign and almost always means one thing." She made a slicing motion with her finger across her throat. "So, the Three must favor you."
Florian bit his lip in unease and then laughed bitterly. "Actually, I'm pretty sure it's the other way around." The woman was surprised but she didn't get a chance to press him further. Florian jerked to attention when his thoughts went immediately to his satchel, or rather its contents. "Did you find anything else when you found me? My traveling bag?" He blurted out. He couldn't help hoping even though he could guess the answer.
Linny paused for a moment at his sudden forcefulness. "No hon. Just you. You and those rags you were wearing, which of course I had to change you out of… Well, all but the boots."
"What?!" Florian sputtered, looking down to find himself wearing a tight pair of pants and a flowy, loose white shirt. The shirt had embroidered birds and flowers. The pants had several feminine embellishments as well.
"Just remember you already said thank you," Linny laughed. "I had to try a couple different things on you to find the right fit. I felt like a little girl playing with dolls again. Luckily, you have one skinny keister. You have on one of my favorite traveling trousers."
"You saw me naked?" Florian's face reddened. "All of me?"
"No need to be embarrassed, chickpea," she reassured, her eyes sparkled with mirth. "You weren't exactly a feast for the eyes. But, if you must know, you were looking red and raw like a starved, plucked chicken. A little more rest and good eating will take care of that. As for the rest of you, I'd say the bird was safely in his nest, and the eggs intact. Check yourself."
"Never mind! I don't want to know anymore," Florian groaned with a shake of his head. "Can you please tell me where we're going?" It was his awful luck continuing its sweet reign of terror. The only other woman to see him naked in his life besides his mother just had to be someone's crazy grandmother in the middle of nowhere.
"We're actually very close to Goponga Village," she responded, a note of mild amusement still evident in her voice. Florian was familiar with the place. It was a swamp community that mostly traded in fishing goods. Most of the village's buildings sat on little isles throughout the swamp connected by wooden bridges. Linny went on, "A few merchants there paid me to transport some goods to Goron City on account of me owning fireproof armor. There's also an inn for travelers. So, while I attend to some business, you can rest some." She smiled. "And over dinner, you can tell me more about your story."
Florian smiled back, halfhearted and confused. He was sure he had yet to tell her any of his story, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to even if he wanted.
A few hours later, wagon parked at the Goponga Inn, Florian found himself standing in front of the stall of the second merchant Linny had decided to visit. It was the middle of the day, and they had visited a clothing vendor earlier. Linny had left her hen and two dogs at the inn's stable, but for whatever reason, she insisted on bringing Cappie.
Florian insisted on tagging along instead of staying at the inn as planned when she offered to buy him some new clothes. "Fine, I'll book the room when we get back," she'd said, giving in. "The wagon would be a tight fit for all of us." He was grateful and touched by her generosity but wanted to pick out his own outfit. He was determined to repay her kindness someday. In the meantime, he was wearing a spare hooded dark green cloak Linny had given him to cover his current ridiculous attire. He'd change once they'd returned to the inn.
Before starting their errands, Linny had handed Florian a bag of swamp fruit to feed Cappie as they walked among the hustle and bustle of the swamp island village. He knew swamp fruit was considered an acquired taste, and he was surprised to see the horse gobble the stuff down so quickly. "Quirky. Just like your mistress." Florian smirked at the horse as he fed it another piece of fruit.
"The price we agreed on was 200 rupees plus extras, Graeti," Linny said coolly, staring down a large, portly man standing to the side of the stall. The man had a beard the color of a bird's nest and cheeks that looked stuffed. A sleeveless tunic exposed thick arms, and an apron that barely covered a robust belly was tied around that.
Linny herself was a petite, slim woman who, despite her age of about 60, stood firm and straight-backed. Florian suspected that white hair of hers had probably been more of a pale blonde in youth. She held Cappie's reigns who happened to be blocking the view of the stall and making it difficult for interested customers to walk up. "I delivered a large jar of your pond apple jam to the Goron chief. He wanted to use it as a glaze for his rock roast. It was easy to sell the rest of the jam after that. Anyway, I have the rupees I was promised, but I want the other part of my delivery fee. Or should I just take the rest out of the profits still in my possession?"
Florian noticed the fruit on display at the booth was the same green, funny shaped fruit he had been feeding Cappie. The stall keeper looked down his nose at Linny, ignoring Florian. "You should have charged more for the remaining jam after the Goron chief bought one. You're short," he sniffed derisively as he folded his arms over his broad chest.
"And you're being a greedy, fat flying rat," Linny retorted.
"And you took longer to return than you said you would," the stall keeper raised his voice. He uncrossed his arms, lowering his meaty hands into balled fists.
Linny glared unblinkingly at the stall keeper, but a smile quickly brightened her face when a terrible stench began wafting around them. The stall keeper's young son began calling out in a high pitch voice. "Father! Father!" The large man hurried to the other end of the stall to find a huge, fresh pile of horse dung.
"Don't mind Cappie! It's his nerves. He gets a little stressed out at business dealings," Linny called pleasantly to Graeti.
Red-faced, the merchant stomped back to Linny, sputtering to find his words. "Your Cappie has… has…"
"Taken a crappie," Florian offered offhandedly with a wrinkle of his nose. He averted his hooded face to hide his amusement when the merchant glared at him furiously.
"And right in front of my fruit stand!" Graeti bellowed, no longer able to contain himself. "Move this foul beast away now!"
"You don't say?" Linny asked, feigning innocence. Still holding Cappie's reigns, she moved him forward just enough to have him stand directly in front of the stall. Cappie gave a grunt, which was followed by the sound of further plopping. "Oh, dear me, I'm so sorry." Linny pulled Cappie forward again only to leave behind a trail of more foulness. He swished his long tail as he walked forward, knocking over several pieces of fruit that fell in the mess below.
"You disgusting old crone!" the merchant roared. "You will pick up every last piece of filth deposited by this mangy creature!"
"Oh, I think not," Linny replied sweetly. "As a matter of fact, I think we'll hang around to shoot the shit a bit longer."
The stall keeper angrily grabbed a parcel from behind the booth and shoved it at Linny. "Now get away from my fruit stand!"
Linny handed the merchant a heavy leather pouch containing his part of the profits. He snatched it away roughly. As they moved away from the booth, they could hear Graeti yelling at his son to grab a shovel. Florian grinned and chuckled from under the hood of his cloak. It had been a while since he had laughed. Linny gave him a wink. "That saggy bearded tit didn't know who he was dealing with," she smirked. "It'll be the last time he tries to short me."
She tossed the bag of the remaining swamp fruit to one of the onlookers parting the way for them. Florian was alarmed when he noticed a few people taking more of an interest in him than Linny. It made him think of the scrutinizing look that had been on Yuzu's face when his face covering had come off. Florian paled at the thought. His reaction didn't go unnoticed by Linny.
"Are you feeling alright?" she asked, concerned.
"I think I'll head back to the inn," Florian said, feeling uneasy and pulling the cloak closer around him. "I'd like to change and rest for a bit until dinner."
"You do that chickpea," she said sympathetically and then handed him the parcel from the clothing vendor. "I haven't actually reserved our room yet. So, wait for me in the wagon."
Florian kept the hood of the moss colored cloak over his head as he walked back to the inn. He did his best to avoid looking at the faces of anyone he passed. Once inside the wagon, the young man changed his clothes. He exhaled in relief at the looser fit of the new trousers. The ends were shorter, but still long enough to be tucked into his sand boots. Apparently, his shoes were the only part of his previous clothing that had held up. The tunic was like the one worn by the merchant they'd encountered earlier but longer sleeved, ending mid-forearm.
It was then that he felt the strange burning sensation just below his right elbow again. Inspecting his arm, he noticed the mark of a hand with three clawed fingers that seemed to be grasping his forearm. He hissed in pain as the outline glowed molten gold. Then the light and the strange handprint seemed to sink into his flesh and disappear.
"What in Din's Flaming… Asshole was that?!" he blurted out in shock, wondering what the mark meant for him. He thought of his deal with the Dark Goddess, the specifics hazy in his mind. He'd had no choice but to agree to her terms. Florian cursed himself for his foolishness and the Goddess for taking advantage of it. He could only assume the mark wouldn't mean anything good in the long run.
The bewildered young man sat on the bed but hesitated before lying down.
In truth, he still felt fatigued, and running errands with Linny had been an excuse to avoid resting. He didn't want to think about the dream he'd had and worried about having another like it. He also didn't want to think about everything that had happened to him up until this point. He needed to focus on his next move.
He needed to find Princess Zelda.
But if you should speak of that which you shouldn't, you will… And not well…
Florian startled when he heard a knock on the side of the wagon.
"Hey, chickpea," Linny's voice suddenly called through the wagon cover. "If you're done blaspheming in there, I have something for you."
Florian startled but was grateful for the interruption to his thoughts. He could only hope the older woman hadn't seen the bright light that had filled the wagon moments before. The young man rose quickly from the small bed and walked to the back of the wagon. Linny was looking up at him with a warm smile that deepened the lines around her mouth, seemingly unaware of anything amiss. She still had on her dark green cloak and had rolled up the long sleeves of her shirt, which was still neatly tucked into her brown trousers. Her leather gloves hung from the belt around her waist. She gestured for him to take the tray of food from her hands, which he kneeled down to do.
"Unfortunately, it looks like the inn is out of rooms. So, I guess we'll have to sleep one to the wagon bed and one to the floor," the kind-hearted woman replied sheepishly. "I brought you a little something from the inn's kitchen." The plate had roasted fish, local swamp greens, and a slice of fresh bread. She pointed to a hot steaming mug. "I think you'll be partial to this. It has a good dose of fermaberry liquor. I added just enough to make your sleep a dreamless one, so you should have a good rest."
Once more, Florian felt embarrassed and shifted uncomfortably, feeling undeserving of her kind attentions and observations. "Thank you for this. You can't know how much I appreciate your generosity. If you come in, I can try to explain everything."
Florian wasn't exactly sure what would happen if he tried to tell his story, but he felt like an attempt was owed. He was surprised when Linny declined. She insisted on needing to finish running a few more errands first.
So, he ate his meal alone and drank the liquid in his mug. It was warm milk mixed with honey and cinnamon. He could taste the sweet spicy bite of the fermaberry liquor. It didn't take long for him to drift off. Florian slept deeply and, like Linny promised dreamlessly. He was rocked awake close to sunset the next day, still heavy with sleep. He fought his way through his fogginess when he realized his hands were bound with rope. The furry heads of Silkie and Rooster were resting across his torso lightly snoring.
"Linny! What's going on?" He yelled, struggling against his bindings and startling the two sleeping dogs placed as sentries awake.
The dogs jumped to attention next to the bed and growled a warning. He managed to cautiously prop himself up to a sitting position but made no other movements. The wagon halted and rocked for a moment before he heard feet hit the ground. Moments later, the old woman climbed inside through the back with Daisy In March perched on her left shoulder again. A somber and regretful look appeared on her lined face. Florian was surprised when she pulled out a rolled piece of paper from the back pocket of her pants with a sketched likeness similar to his own. "Wanted," it read. "Murder and Theft."
"From the look on your face," she replied," I'd say this is you…Florian of Lurelin."