Heh... yeah... it's, uh, it's been awhile.

I hadn't looked at this one in awhile when I read it today, and I received a spurt of inspiration. Here's the ahem much-anticipated Chapter Three. Along with my heartfelt apologies. I am sorry.

Chapter Three

Marin was still not entirely convinced. The missing tarp was the only piece of evidence in Link's favor. But his sincerity, combined with what she knew of his character, made her truly want to believe his story, ridiculous as it was. The boy was as honest as the day was long. It wasn't in his nature to lie or make up stories, and he was usually frightfully bad at it. But he wasn't stupid. Why would he make such fantastic claims—namely, a raging storm and a destroyed wagon—unless they were what he had seen? Or thought he had seen, at least. It was possible that he had had some kind of mass hallucination.

There were, of course, multiple explanations for what could have happened to the canvas tarp. Link could have premeditated his truancy, and hid the tarp that afternoon in order to refer to it later. It would have been a strange length to go to, however, unless it were part of other measures he had taken to validate the lie he would then come up with. He could have noticed the tarp was gone when he returned that night, and invented his own explanation, but she thought that equally unlikely. It wasn't something you would notice in passing.

Marin didn't know what to think. Every instinct she had told her to trust her nephew, but her rational side could not accept his explanation. There was no storm. She knew this. And the cart was in one piece. So how could his story be true?

She was alone at the kitchen table. Link had gone to bed an hour ago, and she was about to turn in herself. Maybe she was just missing something. The throes of sleepiness were preventing her from seeing clearly. She would re-examine things in the morning, and perhaps something would fall into place.

Reassured, she stood up from the table, doused the lantern, and joined her husband in their room.


Akda poi ni Link.

Link opened his eyes.

Som so-thissa Farore. Seltha so-nathossu tok?

Link dropped to one knee and bowed his head. "Eha'," he said.

Som issa a'kifa i'a to-abis sta' tok muthossu akis ni Ha'irul. Ip riru ka'notha enassi susis. Tok muthossu abis ni'no Seltha Kil. Ana enassi to-akis.

"Sta' enassi susis?"

Al-muth-abissu. Muth-abissu ni'no Seltha Kil.

"Eha'. Tok enassu."

Tarin jolted awake. Had he heard something? There was a pounding in the back of his head, like he was listening to a drumbeat, or to steady thunder.

As the fog cleared, the drumming got louder. It was accompanied by a shout: "UNCLE TARIN! UNCLE TARIN!"

Tarin leapt out of bed. Marin rolled over beside him, jostled awake. "Where are you going?" she murmured.

Tarin lit a candle and flung open his bedroom door. There was Link, ash-white and trembling all over. He had been pounding the door with his fists, and the momentum carried him forward into his uncle. "Uncle Tarin!" he cried. "Help! You have to help!"

"Link, what's wrong?" said Tarin sharply. "Hey—easy, Link! What's wrong? Hey!" He gripped his nephew tightly by the shoulders.

"Help, please help!" said Link. "Something bad is happening! Help me, don't let it… please… it…" He trailed off, and suddenly the panic was gone from his eyes. He blinked twice, then looked around. "What… where…?"

Tarin, badly shaken, knelt to look him in the eye. "Are you okay, Link?"

Slowly, Link nodded. "What am I doing?" he said numbly.

"Din, Farore, and Nayru," said Tarin, letting out a whoosh of breath. "You scared me half to death!"

Link looked thoughtful. "Farore?"

"You had a nightmare," said Tarin. "You're okay now. You've got to go back to bed. Come on, let's go."

Link allowed his uncle to turn him around and guide him back upstairs as he slowly regained his wits. "No," he murmured. "Not a dream."

"That's okay, Link," said Tarin. He led him into his bedroom. "Go on back to sleep now."

"Princess Zelda," said Link.

"What's that?"

"I have to see the princess."

"Go back to sleep."

As Link climbed into bed, Tarin shut the door. Marin met him on his way downstairs. "What's wrong?" she said.

"He's gonna give me a heart attack one of these days," said Tarin. "He just had a nightmare is all."

"You don't think it had something to do with what happened today, do you?"

"No," said Tarin, "and right now, I don't care if he's prophesizing the end of the world. Nobody's gonna like me in the morning if I don't get some shut-eye."


Link didn't go back to sleep. He sat at his window, staring into the darkness. He felt his eyes growing heavier and heavier, but he couldn't find the willpower to shut them and crawl back into bed.

It had been the strangest dream. He could barely recall it, but what he remembered was garbled and nonsensical. There was a phrase—Tok muthossu abis ni'no Seltha Kil—how bizarre that he could imitate the sounds!—but of course that didn't mean anything. Had he dreamt in another language? That wasn't possible. Was it?

He was starting to rethink the meaning of the word.

Princess Zelda.

That was what he remembered. Find Princess Zelda. It had seemed so imperative. It still did, for that matter. What could the princess possibly want with him? And he had been shouting to his uncle for help… something bad was coming… Would the princess be able to stop it?

Link shook his head violently. He felt absurd. First the business with the storm, then this dream that felt so… so real… and now, apparently, he was going to have to see the princess.

He had to, of course. It wasn't clear why, but he felt certain of one thing: that he needed to see Princess Zelda.

He couldn't go back to sleep. He wouldn't awaken until after dawn, and by then, the household would be coming alive to start on the day's chores. Somehow, he didn't think he'd be able to communicate this sense of urgency to his uncle. No, he would wait until dawn. Earlier, if necessary. He would make his start under cover of darkness, and by the time the sun came up, he would be long gone…

It was all ridiculous.

Link heaved a sigh. He drew his knees to his chest and cupped his face in his hands. How was he taking a dream so seriously? Of course nobody would believe him if he tried to explain. He wouldn't even get to the princess with a story like this. It was a dream. It wasn't real. The gods didn't just appear to people and tell them to go see the princess…

The gods?

Link's head rolled to the side. He couldn't let himself fall asleep. Just a couple more hours, and he would leave. He had to try. He had seen the god Farore—he remembered that, now—and she had told him to see the princess. How could he ignore a sign like that? If she wouldn't see him, fine, but no one would be able to say he hadn't tried. On an errand from the gods…

It's not an errand, you're being an idiot, you'll be in so much trouble if you skip out on chores in the morning…

…But he had to do it. There was simply no other conclusion to be reached. He had to see the princess.

And, from the sound of it, she had to see him.