"Ilia tells me your dreams have been troubling you."
Link stared at the shaman in disbelief. "Does the whole village know?"
He laughed. "Well, considering the entire village consists of about ten people, counting the Gorons who come to the hot spring…probably." He ignored the sour look on Link's face and asked, "Well, would you want a bit of help? I can't tell you what your dreams mean…only you can do that, regardless of what a fortune-teller might say. But I know a way to examine them while awake, so you have more control over what you're seeing."
Skeptical, Link scuffed his boot toe into the dirt. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt…they're becoming even more frequent, not to mention vivid. Sometimes I feel I can't tell if I'm asleep or awake."
The shaman nodded with deep seriousness. "Come inside, and I'll see what I can do."
He bid Link sit on the floor of his house, close to the fire. After rummaging around in an ornate chest in the corner, he brought forth some herbs Link had never seen before. One he set aside while the other he began brewing in a teapot.
"I want you to try to relax as much as you can," he instructed. "Don't fall asleep, but try to clear your mind of everything, as much as possible."
"I thought we were going to examine all the stuff that's going on in my head," Link countered. "Why do you want me to clear it out?"
Pouring the steeped herbs into a small cup, the shaman explained, "When you are asleep, your mind is most vulnerable. I want to replicate that, with a few aids here that will help you focus."
He handed Link the cup, instructing him to drink slowly, and then seared a bit of the other herb and placed it, still smoking, into a small bowl. It gave off a sharp, pleasant scent, and Link felt his muscles relax.
"Now," the shaman began, once Link had finished the herbal tea, "I want you to relax completely, clear your mind completely. Don't fight the medicine. The more open you are, the more you will be able to control what you see…"
Still skeptical, but glad of a break from the chaos that had now become commonplace, Link did as he was told. The shaman continued to speak to him, conversationally, of nothing in particular, and soon his voice began fading away.
For a long time, there was only blackness. He gradually realized that he was standing up, and no longer in the shaman's home. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and as they began to focus a large room came into view.
It was a magnificent anteroom, like the foyer of a castle, with marble pillars, chandeliers made of wrought gold and crystal, and polished floors of granite. It seemed strangely familiar, but he could not place it; he did notice that the royal seal had been placed repeatedly in the walls.
But more magnificent than the walls or the chandeliers were the mammoth, intricate tapestries hung all about the octagonal anteroom, each one as detailed as if a thousand weavers had taken a thousand years to complete just one. They all depicted breathtaking landscapes and elaborate battle scenes. Some featured places Link had been in Hyrule; others looked alien, but were strangely tinted with the familiarity that had pervaded throughout his nightmares.
As he stepped up to one in order to examine it closer, he noticed there was a young man dressed like himself that showed up repeatedly in not just that one, but all of them. Or at least it seemed like the same person. Sometimes he was older, sometimes younger. In one he was playing a funny-looking round instrument Link had never seen before.
There was a young woman in every tapestry too, though she didn't appear as frequently. In one she could only be seen small in a corner; in another she was always beside the young man and even appeared to be related in some way, perhaps his sister. She bore a striking resemblance to Princess Zelda in most of them, and the royal seal usually accompanied her.
Link began to examine them from beginning to end, piecing together the stories that they told. They were only pictures, so it was hard to put together any details. At the end of each tapestry was a battle scene, after which was usually a castle or landscape in brilliant sunlight, and the ubiquitous royal seal.
But a few of them, apparently, didn't end well, and their ends were shrouded in darkness, its hero slain. Link stepped up to one to examine it further, and caught his breath. The hero's bane had a grotesque face, like a pig.
Link backed up and turned his face away. His gaze came to rest upon another dark tapestry, with the enemy this time more human, but still monstrously disfigured. He had thrust his sword deep into the fallen hero's chest.
The room seemed to flash before him and suddenly he felt himself down on his knees, staring up at the all too real hideous face above him, which smiled in evil glee, the sword in his hand stained crimson. Excruciating pain lanced through Link's chest and he doubled up in agony.
As he gasped for breath, the pain slowly ebbed away and he looked, with some surprise, to find that the hand clutching his chest was not covered in blood. He looked up and realized he was in the anteroom again.
Rising unsteadily to his feet, he began wondering how to get out of this place – he didn't remember coming in a door – when he saw in the corner, a large loom. Irresistibly drawn, the walked slowly toward it, dreading what he might see.
His eyes widened in amazement as he saw the beginning of the tapestry, displaying a young man – now he knew it must be himself – herding goats in Ordon Village. As he followed the tapestry, he saw intricate pictures of all the things he had experienced in the past few months; the kidnapping of his friends by monsters, his own curse, meeting Midna, meeting Princess Zelda, his travels to the four corners of Hyrule and every single person he had met in between. At the very far end, in the part still stuck in the loom, he could see an image of himself sitting before the shaman's fire.
He sank to his knees as a myriad of images overcame him, a thousand times more powerful than the ones in the temple, accompanied by fear, ecstasy, hatred, love, and mourning. Battles, funerals, images of loved ones as well as enemies from a thousand lifetimes flashed before his eyes. He clutched his hands to his head and screamed with madness as his head pounded until he felt it would burst.
He was knocked to the floor and his eyes flew open. The shaman was standing above him, one hand open, looking both concerned and apologetic. "I'm sorry…but you were screaming, and I couldn't rouse you…"
Link shook his head and struggled to his feet. The shaman tried to help him but was waved off. "What did you see?" he demanded.
Silent, Link stared into the fire, trying to piece together what it all meant. "Do you know," he asked, his voice low and gasping, "the story of the ancient hero?"
Blinking, the shaman replied, "Just bits and pieces…it happened so long ago, it's devolved into myth. Just the simple fact that a hero chosen by the gods erased a great darkness from Hyrule…Wait, where are you going?"
"I'm tired of myths and stories," Link stopped at the door, his voice hard and flinty. "I want some real answers to what's going on."
-&-
"Hello, dear," Telma greeted Link as he walked in the door. Her smile fell as he walked past without even looking at her, heading straight for Shad.
Shad looked up genially. "Hello, old boy, how have you…"
"Do you have any books on the ancient hero?" Link demanded.
Startled, Shad replied, "No…I don't believe so…even my father wouldn't have had something that old."
Link slammed his fist down at the table, ignoring the others' angry shouts. "Did this hero even really exist?"
Shad clutched his book to his chest and his words tumbled over themselves as they came out. "I….of course he did, I mean how else would the story….I don't know who else…maybe the royal family…"
"The royal family?" Link's frustration reached its boiling point. "A pox on the royal family, and its symbols and its members, most of all Zelda!"
Everyone in the room was staring at him now, slack-jawed, so quiet they heard the sneeze of a mouse in the corner. It was Telma that found her voice first. "Do….do you know what you just said?"
Link stood, silent, fists clenched. Then he ran out of the bar and slammed the door behind him.
-&-
"You didn't really mean that," Midna said.
"Of course not." It was pouring rain in the southern town courtyard and Link was soaked to the bone, but he continued to let the rivulets of water run down his back and shoulders. He was calm as stone now, watching the rain over the fields with half-closed but watchful eyes.
"You can't blame Zelda for the trouble she's in. We're supposed to help her, remember?"
Link nodded. "I just wish I could talk to her…she must know what's going on…"
"Now that we have all the mirror pieces, let's go back to the desert temple. We can straighten things out there, and once we're rid of Zant, I can help you find her and fix things here. Agreed?"
He stood. "We'll go…but I've got to know what's happening, what all of this means. Something tells me that if I don't figure it out in time…" his voice trailed off.
Midna put her hand on his shoulder. "I'll give you whatever help I can, all right?"
"All right." He steeled himself for the next leg of his journey. "Let's go."