Tetra:

My mother sang me a song. When I was young, before I could move over the rough boards of the ship, she sang it to me. The words are gone now, but the melody is here, a lullaby from somewhere deep. I think I hear it sometimes, when the ship groans, the sails smack. My mother is here, in the wood and rope of the ship.

I was doomed to be a captain. My mother taught me only the duties of a leader. How to love my crew, even when sending them into battle. How to present both mercy and cruelty in my manner. How to speak. How to hold steady. I'm always steady. She taught me how to grin, but not how to smile.

"Lift the sword."

I was six. We were in her cabin. Her bed beneath the chart, mine shoved into a niche in the left wall. She sat on her bed, the chart with its red etching hovering behind her, drawing out the pattern I see in every angle upon the ship and every corner of the world. On the other wall, the pictures of the legend of the lost Kingdom. Mother lined her room with the weight of ages. Before her, on the floor, her sword. It too carried the heavy weight of legend. Not the single handed blade with the large, cupped guard that her crew would at times carry, but a broad sword, taller than my body, a wide guard, straight with rounded ends. It shone in the light, the handle like dipped gold, the blade polished stone.

"Lift it," she said. "Grab the handle, hold it firmly, both hands. Lift it."

I gripped the handle. It was warm, almost hot. I tried. The sword's tip gauged the floor. My arms ached. The sword twisted in my hands.

"Lift. Lift."

I said I can't.

"Lift."

I pulled on my arms, digging the sharp tip into the boards, tearing out flakes in the polished wood. I held my breath; I buckled. The tip left the ground. I lifted the sword up to the level of my eyes. Then it grew too heavy and I dropped it. The hilt landed on my foot, pain going up my leg, but I did not notice for the ache in my arms. My mother bent, took the sword by the handle, lifted it with one hand.

"This," she moved the sword before her. The light from the candles caught the emblem in the middle of the hilt, a small pyramid of three triangles, one resting on top of the other two. The same design on the chart behind her. "This is the weight of a leader. This is the weight of a captain, a queen, a goddess. You've lifted it Tetra, but lifting it is not the goal. Bearing it, guiding it, that is the goal. That is duty."

I am a captain. Since my mother died, I've not only lifted the weight she left me but bore it on. The men she left behind have made the burden an easy one to bear. Senza, Mako, Nudge, Zuko are dedicated, I believe at times more to my mother than me. Gonzo, he follows me I know. Niko is Niko.

But I am still Tetra. Though they add "Miss" to my name, beneath that title I am still only Tetra. I am my mother's daughter, left a ship to sail and something to find. But I do not even know what.

When she grew sick, mother told me to come to her cabin. I had begun to make my bed among the crew then, becoming, like mother, one of them, learning their manners, learning their ways. I stepped into the cabin. It was always hot. No windows, only vents in the corners for the smoke. She often had many candles burning, besides a small fire. I never saw my mother sweat until she grew sick, and that night the perspiration was thick on her brow. It stood out in her lashes, on her lips. She was sitting up in bed, reading sheet music.

I sat beside her and she grinned at me.

"Amateurs," she said, tossing the music on the floor. Some of it whipped under her bed, a few sheets fluttered out of the door. "Amateurs, all of them. Composers these days are in love with flutes and fiddles and there are no drums. No good music lacks for drums. But despite that. Here."

She undid the leather strap around her wrist, the one on which hung her golden medallion. She handed me the trinket, dropping it in my hand. It felt light, so light for a moment I thought I had dropped it, but when I checked it still sat between my fingers.

"It's ugly, I know," she said, "I had to make the leather myself after my mother gave it to me. Useless woman never took care of anything. The strap had gotten dry and cracked and would have broken. But it's ours and you need to start wearing it. Get used to the weight of it. You must guard it with your life understand?" She gestured at the chart behind her, the portraits of the hero of legend and the lost kingdom on the wall. "It's something old, something of worth beyond the monetary value we place on these things. Don't ask me, I don't know what, exactly, it is, but it is something worth keeping. Else my fool of a mother would have sold it long ago."

Mother didn't believe in stories or gods or legends. Neither do I. So I was compelled to ask, "Then why is it special? What's its worth?"

"I've been looking for an answer for that," she said. She was watching one of the loose sheets. It had floated down into the fire and was catching, curling up. "Not very actively, I'll admit. The thing about antiques, about legends and old talismans… you get used to them. Assume they'll be around forever. Don't worry so much about them. I just never really bothered trying to find where it came from."

"Why now?" I stretched out the leather strap. It was long for a bracelet strap, long enough to be a necklace instead. Mother always wore it knotted several times to fit her thin wrist. "Why are you giving me this now?"

A silly question; we both knew the answer. It was only a few weeks after that that mother dropped on the deck, finally overcome by age and toil. Even then, we knew it was coming. But a daughter is obliged to ask. I have always some duty to fulfill. A captain's alwaysunder obligations. A captain, a daughter. A woman.

It was obligation that made me listen to the boy from Outset. Had I not awoken to see him in the forest myself, I probably would not have really believed a boy that young was responsible for helping me. While he does have a steadiness about him, he is still only a child. An island child, not one of the sea. But I saw him there in the forest, killing those strange creatures gathered around me. I saw him run headlong off a cliff to try and save his sister after that monstrous bird returned and snatched her away. Steady, hard beneath his child's skin. But stupid. So blisteringly stupid.

I accepted him because I do not refuse an obligation. Besides, Niko is always in need of assistance, so having him onboard would make unloading our freight easier. We still had those crates to sell to Beedle, who, in the confusion, had left Outset and sailed north. We'd have to catch him at Rock Spire Island instead.

I despise Beedle as an individual. He is a conman. I know this because I deal with his like among my own crew. Yet he is a success and wide spread too. That man has set up shop in seas few dare to sail, bravery either stemming from some superior knowledge or some inferior idiocy. Either way, he is much wider sailed than the merchants of Windfall, many of whom are nothing more than glorified peddlers, hawking whatever washes up on their shores. Beedle has been places. And, I feel, has likely done business with individuals who may be of use to me.

Once we were out of sight of Outset, I put Link to work with Niko below the deck. I did this to give the boy something to do. It was pathetic watching him as his home receded, that scrawny body clinging to rope, waving to people who could no longer see him. He did not shout any goodbyes, but then again, he never speaks a word of any kind. A mute, I suppose. A blessing since that meant I would not have to hear him whining.

I did not feel like seeing him mope around the deck of the ship; depression and home sickness build from inactivity. I told him "Go down below and help Niko. We earn our bread on this ship and since you'll be with us for a few days, you'll be in need of food."

As he could not speak he did not make any reply against me, but his looks expressed his thoughts clear enough. He gave me a firm glare, showing his distaste for being ordered around. Likely, my reluctance to let him on board also fostered his dislike of me.

I asked him if he had something to say. He turned and went below, his feet making soft sounds against the moist wood of the ship.

Gonzo was beside me, at the helm. He said, "Very nice words Miss. The boy ought to remember his place as a guest on board this ship."

"Do you know what I think of when I look at him Gonzo?"

"Me when I was that young?" Gonzo laughed. I couldn't help but smile as well.

"No. Niko, if he couldn't talk."

"Now that would be quite the blessing."

I was surprised when Niko came on deck later, telling me the boy had already finished reloading and fixing the damaged crates. I dismissed Niko at the time, but went down a few minutes later to see for myself. Just as Niko said, the boxes were all restocked, orderly, unlike that slovenly manner Niko has of shoving everything in as he grabs it. The boy was nearby, mending a worn bag with some old thread and needle. He looked up at me, grinning.

"You put everything back in order? The furs, the spears, all of it?"

He nodded.

"What is that?" I pointed at the bag in his lap. He lifted it to give me a better look. I recognized it from my mother's effects, a worn bag she used to keep her spoils in, small valuable trinkets she often took off opponents in battle. Then I understood. "Niko gave that to you?"

He nodded, smiling like a fool.

"For getting done so fast?"

He nodded.

"Well, that's good. I'm happy for you. You've earned the respect of the ship's swabby for moving some stolen goods around. Congratulations."

Link stopped smiling. I left him to his mending and returned to the helm. The next day was much the same. I put Niko and Link to work mending the damage done to the ship by the large bird. Again, I found myself unable to stop taking jabs at Link during his work.

That night, over dinner, Senza provided entertainment with a story of some drunken fishers who crashed their ship on the shore of one of the fairy islands and how they suffered the fairy's wrath for their crime. While we passed around wooden plates of fruit and salted pork, scrambling over each others' hands for the choicest picks, Senza leaned back, dripping his drink on his shirt, looking quite red in the face.

"The fairy said to the captain of the vessel 'As captain, you ought to lead your crew with wisdom. Therefore, go and learn the wisdom of leadership amid the leaderless packs of the Gyorg.' And with a wave of her hand she turned the old captain into a hideous Gyorg right there on the shore and he had to flop his way into the water and swam off!"

The table sounded with low chuckles. Niko howled with strained laughter. Link smiled, alone at his corner of the table, staring at Senza.

"Then she turned to the captain's mate and said, 'It is from you that the voice of reason is expected. When a ship's captain cannot lead, it is you who must act as its compass. Therefore, learn you the power of direction amid the spinning, directionless Seahats.' And with a wave of her hand she turned the mate into an ugly, spinning Seahat, and he twisted his huge body down the shore and flew out over the sea!"

"Best watch out Gonzo," Mako said, "You're closest to mate on this ship! If you start walking in circles soon we'll know why!"

Nudge and Senza bellowed and patted Gonzo on the back as he blushed. Niko nearly fell from his chair. Zuko had rose to check the deck and to get himself some more drink. I patted his arm, handing him my cup as he walked by. I watched my crew.

"Anyway," Senza waited until we'd calmed down to continue. "Anyway, anyway, the fairy then turned to the last crew member, the lowly swabby of the ship. She said, 'You are not more than an extension of your captain's will are you? Only a tool upon the ship, little more. Therefore, you shall learn the courage necessary for independence and responsibility amid the featureless Chuchus of this island.' And with a wave of her hand she turned the poor swabby into a slimy Chuchu and he bounced off into the grass, never to be seen again!"

Gonzo pounded the table, upsetting some drinks and spilling a plate. Mako giggled. Niko was red across the face, mumbling something. As Zuko passed by me to his seat, he said "Clear skies."

Once the laughter had run its course, Senza looked at Link and said, "You have any stories from back home boy? I know you can't tell them to us, but I'm sure your family has some legends from old times, right? Any good fables?"

Link smiled, nodded emphatically and jumped up, walking across the room. We watched him go to the ash bin for the oven and remove a small lump of coal from the bottom of the bin. He returned to the table, pushed aside his plate and cup and began to draw, using the coal as a stylus. Mako looked at Nudge and laughed. "Our little artist. A little scholar."

"Give my shrimp his space!" Niko said. "Just you watch. My Link's going to tell you something even Senza doesn't know about."

I took a sip from my cup, watching him, waiting. His arms moved rapidly. He's left handed. He sat back, grinning, gesturing at the table. We all leaned forward to look. Nudge grabbed the lantern over the table and angled it to light the tabletop.

There was a line of crude drawings, difficult to make out at first given the darkness of the coal. The first one was a picture of a castle and a figure on horseback in front of it, a sword held over its head. I recognized the image instantly, both of those elements having sat framed in my mother's cabin all my life. The hero and his kingdom of legend.

The next image was of the castle without the hero. Instead, a dark cloud was coming down on the castle. Smaller figures of people were fleeing the castle to a large boat at sea. In the next image, the boat was sailing upon the ocean, then, the final image, showed the boat beside an island shaped roughly like Outset, with several figures grouped together, smiling on the shore. Some of them wore the same hat as the hero from the first image. Then, after that image, there was simply a large arrow pointed down at the end of the table, to Link.

He sat there grinning, eyes running over us all. Waiting for us to get it.

"Well well," Mako said, clicking his tongue. "Would you look at that. Link's of royal birth."

Senza sat back and laughed softly. "That he is. We've got a royal guest on board this ship. You're quite lucky Miss Tetra. Not every girl gets saved by a hero's offspring."

"Hey, don't pick on my boy Link!" Niko said, patting Link on the shoulder. "I've seen him work and, trust me, he's of royal stock alright. He's tough!"

They laughed, chattered. Link smiled. I let them go on. It felt good, hearing simple talk. Simple talk is what makes a crew. Even Mako and Nudge began to include Link in their discussion.

The third day we came in sight of Rock Spire. I had Link and Niko move the crates onto the deck. Zuko was in the crow's nest, but we also had Nudge standing with Gonzo at the helm, keeping an eye on the horizon. None of us could shake the uneasy feeling that the bird might come again.

"Perhaps it would be best for you to wait below deck Captain," Senza suggested to me. "At least until we're anchored."

I shook my head.

"You're forgetting your own stories Senza. A captain must possess the wisdom of leadership. Cowering in my cabin is not leadership. If that bird comes again, I will be ready this time."

The catapult was loaded, Senza and Mako manning it. I stood on the deck, watching Beedle's frightfully colorful ship come in from the horizon. Link came beside me. He had a bottle of water in his hand, from which he drank as we watched Beedle come closer. He offered me some, which I accepted.

"Have you ever done business with this man before? On your home island?" I asked. Link nodded. He was wearing the bag Niko had given him and he removed a small fruit from it, giving it to me. It was a Hyoi Pear, a favorite of sea gulls. I handed it back to him. "I did see a lot of gulls on your island. I suppose they flocked there because it is good resting ground for them."

He shook his head and took out from his bag the piece of coal from the night before. He scratched on the railing of the ship "My Sister."

"They come for your sister?"

He shrugged then nodded.

The bird did not come. Beedle pulled alongside us, our two ships bumping lightly. Niko and Link threw down lines and locked us together, tossing over a step ladder. Beedle came out on deck and watched Gonzo and Nudge cart the boxes down. It's always so odd to see him standing up. It's a wonder his legs actually work; normally, he is inside his ship, sitting with his legs bunched up next to him, never standing even to accept payment. As they brought the crates down to him, Beedle opened each one, checked the contents, and then let them take it inside. If I must say one thing for the man, he is quite friendly. He did not stop smiling the whole time and whenever he told Gonzo or Nudge to go in, it was always, "Thank you! Go ahead."

I dropped down to speak with him. The deck of his ship is surprisingly steady. In fact, when coming from my own ship to his, it's like stepping on land. Inside his ship he has a sparse "merchandise stand" with only a few selection of items. Odd considering how much he buys. It's a wonder there's room on the ship for him at all. After the last crate was loaded, Beedle gave me an estimate.

"For all of that I think I'm willing to go, say, 800 rupees. A fair price, don't you think?"

I didn't. I had hoped to clear a thousand for those furs, but at the moment, I needed something more than money. 800 would be enough to pay everyone their wages. My payment was to be in information. I followed him into the dark of the ship, out of hearing of the crew

"Sure, 800 is good. But I was wondering if you could inform me on something."

"Anything!" Beedle said, digging out a small purse of rupees from behind his stand. He had the bag locked with an iron ring, despite the fact that the bag itself was made of simple fabric. "I'm always willing and ready to help a valuable customer!"

"I'm looking for an expert on maps. I have heard that such a cartographer exists on the Great Sea, a strange man with peculiar habits who is quite hard to find." Our two boats continued to clap together, making a hollow tapping. I could feel the vibrations from the tapping in the bottom of my feet. "In your travels, have you ever met this man or heard about him?"

Beedle had his hand in his rupee bag, counting out orange rupees on the table. Now he stopped. He set his bag down, rested his hands on the table. His voice was shockingly quiet without that salesman energy.

"A cartographer? I had heard of someone like that actually, yes. Can I ask what you need him for?"

"I need him to decipher a chart for me. A very old one." That wasn't giving away too much.

"I might be willing to buy the chart from you. If its price you are concerned about, I can guarantee I'll aim for the highest lot."

"No. Price is not the object here. It's just a family heirloom. Old, musty, hard to read. It's not even worth anything." I wanted him off the salesman pitch. I needed him to have no interest in the matter. "I just need an expert's eye to go over it is all. The language is old, badly written. It's just a curiosity."

"I see." Beedle nodded slowly, thoughtfully, over and over. Someone on my ship shouted, "Niko for the gods' sake!" There was another yell and a few distant thumps, likely Niko falling into something. Beedle took out a sea chart and spread it over his merchandise table.

"It's been quite a while since I was last there," he said, moving his finger over the chart, searching for something. Finally, he landed his finger on a blotch of land not too far from Rock Spire Island, just a little ways south. "There. That's where he last did business. I saw him only once. A frighteningly strange fellow. Always moving, hopping, jittering about fairies and magic words. But, if what he says is true, when it comes to charts and maps, there's no one with more knowledge than him. I can't remember his name but you'll know him when you see him. A weird green imp of a man. Lives there, in a tower of his own design, just as frightening looking as its builder."

I memorized the island's location so I could mark it on my own chart. I'd seen that tower before, in the distance, but had always assumed it was an unused fortification, possibly one built by the Forsaken Fortress gang before they fell apart. I thanked Beedle and collected my money. As I left he screeched that awful "Thank you!" We disconnected the two ships and my crew seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as the colorful ship sailed away into the east.

A tower to the south. I finally have my lead. The necklace mother gave me, the chart left in her room, now the resources to understand what they mean. The only thing to take care of first is Link.

Link…. There is something familiar about him but the more I try to make the connection, the further it slips from me. He's nothing to do with my mother's chart or my necklace, but I can't help but feel that there is something. I do not know what. That not knowing is what worries me.

While he was writing on the railing of the ship, I took that moment to slip something into his bag, another trinket left behind by my mother, this one of more immediate use. A small green stone, a twin to one in my possession. Whoever possesses one of these stones will be able to communicate with the possessor of the other. But, more importantly, I will be able to keep taps on what this boy is doing.

He is nothing but a brash, stupid boy, but I do not trust that. I trust this feeling inside of me, this captain's instinct. I know I must remember my duty to my crew, and I will try. But I am Tetra, beneath it all. And I must remember my duty to myself first. I will answer these questions. For me. Me alone.