Sharp didn't stop. He ran through the streets at breakneck speed, skidding to a stop and narrowly avoiding knocking into the tightly packed huddle of people on the street corner. Impatient, he shoved through the crowd, forcing his way through the indignant murmuring sea; when Meryl emerged from the alleyway at last, the last she saw of him was a silver ponytail disappearing amongst the onlooker's heads. She shook her head and grumbled to herself, cursing the silly creature she was chasing and her thigh-high boots for being so ill-suited to the job, before diving in herself.
"What in Nayru's name is going on, you -" she began to explode when she had reached his side, but he silenced her with a wave of his hand. His green eyes glinted in wonder as he nodded toward the corner. She followed his glance - alone on the corner a girl was standing. She had short black hair which framed a small, good-natured face. The girl's eyes were elongated and almond-shaped, altogether different from any Hylian she had ever seen; combined with her short, turned-up nose and a mouth that seemed perpetually smiling, she appeared altogether fairylike, a strange but thoroughly benevolent and joyous form of life. She wore a headband from which a red pom-pom floated in midair, a smart blouse and a pleated skirt with a sweater tied over it - the uniform of a University student.
The strange girl bowed to the crowd, and from the restaurant situated behind her, the sound of a bow being drawn across strings prompted her to action; she drew up and seemed to vibrate with the sound, as though she were a string herself, and arched her back, reaching one arm skyward while the other descended gracefully along an outstretched leg. It was then that Meryl caught sight of the wings upon the girl's back: tiny and draconic, they were arched now like the rest of her, ready and waiting for their cue. Meryl caught her breath - this girl was strange, strange beyond all reckoning… she had never seen any race in Hyrule like her.
"Who - What…" she began, but again the cardsharp simply lifted a finger to his lips and went on watching, with the expectant eyes of someone awaiting a miracle. His gaze did not leave the girl for a second.
At that moment, from the interior of the restaurant a melody began, harp strings quietly plucking out a melody as the girl tensed and released, one arm reaching upward to join the other, then spreading her arms as she delicately stepped forward, entire body fluid. Cello and bass, then viola, and at last violin mingled their notes with the prologue; the audience was hush, the anticipation palpable, and at last the music burst free in a quick and deft melody which raced along like a dancing flame. The dark-haired foreign girl abandoned herself to the music utterly, her feet tapping out an alien pattern, her arms weaving and intertwining with the air. Raw spirit and raw energy flanked her with the music as she spun and whirled, her graceful, light body spiraling around and outwards as she traversed the circle of bystanders in leaps and bounds, captivated by the passion of the music, ever and effortlessly constrained to the rhythm.
As the crowd's enchantment grew, the tune checked itself to a more complex pattern, and the dancer reacted in kind by spreading her arms, as though to encompass the entire throng of bystanders, and letting her feet beat out an intricate dance of their own between her turns. Murmured exclamations were given; a girl standing behind Sharp and Meryl whispered, "This is her best dance yet!" Meryl's eyes were wide; she had been to the Gerudo Valley, where dancing and grace were a way of life, but this girl topped them all, easily. But such considerations were left for later - the music built to a great and sweeping crescendo, and the girl leapt forward, utterly immersed in the drama and life it imparted, moving on to a series of steps and movements which seemed to grab hold of the bliss within her and fling it helter-skelter into the crowd as the dance became wilder.
She leaned back and arced her arms around as though to trace the path of her wings; in the next moment she had sprung up like a wild crane, to spin through the air and land, gracefully sidestepping, eyes intense and movements full of a softened chaos. Her arms twirled upward toward the heavens as she turned, clenched her fingers into fists which she drew to her chest, and gazed with sudden import at the audience, as if to ask if they felt the potency of this moment as much as she.
And the music changed once more; the violin screeching higher, the key changing, the girl darted forward through the air, landing and pounding out again the complex and energetic rhythm of the dance, raising her arms slowly, slowly as the energy built, until they were directly above her head. The crowd gasped in awe as her feet lifted from the pavement - she was free, the deva of dance was free, free of gravity and all bounds of the world, and as the music leapt toward conclusion her movements seemed to encompass all of Hyrule, she leapt through the air with a wild and formless grace, a dancing flame which suddenly drove downwards into the ground like lightning, arms out, face flushed, and shining eyes full of the victory.
The crowd took several seconds to catch its breath and come down from the glorious high which had enveloped them; the cheers were so loud that they might have broken Meryl's eardrums, had she not been screaming herself hoarse with them. Sharp looked at her in surprise, his eyes dancing a dance of their own. "You liked it, I take it?" he observed wryly. Meryl grinned and punched him in the arm in response, still watching the girl as took off the sweater she had tied around her waist and placed it on the ground, kneeling down to gather the rupees that the crowd had showered her with.
"Who is she, Sharp?" Meryl asked. "She doesn't look Hylian at all. No race of ours could dance like that."
Sharp smiled a little. "She's not from around here. I was never too sure myself where she came from. One time she told me she washed up on the shores of Lake Hylia; another time she told me the lake scientist made her… out of what I don't know." He shrugged. "Really, I'm not sure she knows herself what she is… but she doesn't seem to mind, does she?" He sent a teasing grin at Meryl, who seemed discomfited by the idea of having no heritage, no race to call one's own.
Meryl continued to watch the girl as she digested the story; the dancer had straightened from her collection and held the makeshift rupee bag with tight knuckles as two men approached her. She spoke with them momentarily, her posture taut, their voices indistinct, rapid mutters; then one of them took a step toward her, reaching for her. She smacked his hand away, dark eyes flashing in anger as the other drew in -
Meryl's curt tone froze the entire tableau. "Oh, get the hell away from her, you pigs!" she snapped, stepping toward them with a fist raised, a formidable picture in her black leather. "If you need to go bother some broad that bad, go find a working girl. And stop looking at me like that, I'm off duty," she added scathingly. The pair fidgeted, but stood firm against Meryl's forbidding glare, not quite sure they wanted to run off yet. A voice interrupted the staring match.
"Blackjack…?" the dancer breathed incredulously.
Cardsharp's smile was wide. "Gwenna!" As a smile broke out over the girl's face, they rushed into each other's arms. This proved to be the last straw for the would-be assaulters - they took the opportunity as a convenient sign to scuttle away. "Goddesses, I thought I would never see you again!"
"Ever sorry to disappoint," she smiled, pulling back to look at him better. "But goodness, Jack, what've you been up to? I thought you'd come visit me every once in a while… we haven't moved still, Dad still has the cabin at the Lake…"
Cardsharp chuckled. "All the way to Hylia just to see you? Great as you are, Gwen, us poor kids can't afford a trip like that." Glancing around quickly, he ducked his head and added, "and don't call me Blackjack anymore. My name's Cardsharp from now on, got it?"
"But… why…" Gwen's words died on her lips as Meryl cleared her throat, impatient to reclaim her part in the dialogue. Gwen flushed a little. "I'm sorry… I haven't been introduced to your friend, Jack."
"Sharp!" he hissed, then nodded his head informally as the prostitute approached. "This's Meryl, met her a couple of hours ago, and she's already gotten me out of a bit of a tight spot."
"She must have a knack for it," Gwen smiled, her slender eyes only briefly taking in Meryl's revealing costume before shaking her hand. "Thank you, by the way - although it was nothing serious. Those guys always hang around - it's pathetic, no appreciation for art in the slightest." Her smile was joyous, though, and Meryl, despite her instinctive rebellion, felt herself warming to the girl. Gwenna was too friendly to dislike for long.
"Your dancing's incredible," Meryl said, awe still lingering in her tone. "You've not studied it formally, have you? I've never seen anyone dance like that."
"Have you studied dancing formally, then?" Gwenna breathed, her eyes glowing in zeal. "I would love to, but Father is…" She trailed off.
"No, unfortunately… But believe me, from what I've seen of Gerudo dancing, they have nothing on you."
"Of course," interceded a smooth voice suddenly. "Only the Goddesses are capable of granting such a talent."
A man, dressed in blue from head to toe, had appeared, and was now striding toward the three of them.