Chapter 10: Dreams and a Milk Café
After safely depositing Epona in the nearest royal stable, the Hero of Time and Termina alike journeyed to his quarters, surrounded by the mineral walls of the castle of the great Royal Family of Hyrule. The stones in the wall were nostalgic and triggered past phantasms of long-lost ventures. Each brick was a face with pits and edges; a crude caricature of people he once knew. Their movements past him were a rough blur; an error in his judgment of what was forward. The torches hanging in their iron prisons winked at the shaded figure wearing a thin cloak, a green hat, and a musing expression wandering down their hallway's throat with purpose. At last the wooden door, smooth in its frame, greeted Link with something close to anticipation.
Link turned the doorknob and pushed inward. The hinges giggled a faint squeak and the door sighed as its guest pressed it back into its frame, making a thud that expressed welcome. Steel and flint sprayed sparks at the fireplace in the hands of the hero as he brought the fire to life. Taking off his cloak, Link attacked his bed, beating it with his form until comfort was achieved. Fuzziness was still in his head, clouding his thoughts and warming his disposition. Wearing his cloak like a blanket, the man dressed in green found sleep, gazing into its very sky.
The sun shone with a brilliance unmatched by anything else. Its rays were intense and beautiful, gracing the land and its hills, caressing the towering trees, embracing the purple mountains, and skipping across the glinting lakes and rivers. Far away, the shy ocean rolled onto the shore, where it retreated just as quickly. Life was just peeking its head out of the soil, opening its eyes and looking to the heavens, where the noble and brilliant orb surveyed it all.
On top of the most peaceful hill, surrounded by budding flowers and eager grass, perched a beam of light, coming from the azure skies themselves. The beam illuminated everything in a split second, at the end of which it dissipated, revealing a shining golden monument, more beautiful and fearsome than the land it chose to rest in. A power radiated from it, wise and courageous, almost omnipotent. The artifact was mysterious and calming in harmony. It was the gravity in this realm, the thing that the very clouds circled about.
Time persevered in this paradise, the sky aged and spied itself in the sluggish waters of the once swift rivers, also engulfed by the laws of progression. The trees grew, matured, reproduced, and eventually fell. Their children took the charity of their ancestor's gift of life and breathed it into the air. The mountains were carved by the river's offspring. The smell of sweet fruit drifted through the sacred land, where the golden guardian sat and observed.
The clouds became heavy with the protests of the bodies of water, which had been sunbathing for untold ages. The trees rocked back and forth in the wind with excitement. The behemoth mountains braced themselves. The land equipped a dark and gloomy face. The gray clouds descended deeper into a much darker shade until the flowers themselves feared they would burst. The angular keeper of the realm did not sway in the fierce gusts of the storm. The gargantuan blankets ominously hovered over the land, making no move for what seemed like an eternity.
The entire landscape of this paradise was now gloomy and dark. No playful drops gracing the waves of grass or the thirsty trees. The only thing unphased was the centerpiece of this universe; the golden triangles that occupied the once tranquil terrain. Atop the resilient figure cut a beam of light, through the skies that had lost their soft blue. From the clouds opened a ring of golden light, from which a dark pulsing hand reached longingly towards the sacred triangles, closing its fingers around them. The metallic artifacts shone with much force, turning the nocturne storm into day. The realm was bathed in the light, shadows nonexistent. The light continued for a long while until finally, the light stopped. The dark arm disappeared without kidnapping the realm's guardian from its position. The clouds unleashed a torrent upon the realm and order was restored.
Link awoke to catch himself in the act of drooling on his pillow. Wiping his mouth absentmindedly, he stretched and yawned. The hero went limp at the end of his stretch and thought about his dream, which was now a hazy phantasm. Convincing himself it was nothing, Link pushed himself off his woolen covers and untangled himself from the cloak he was previously occupying. Feeling a tad unkempt, he decided to wash his clothing. Link removed his clothing, placing the bronze chain mail over his chair, and clothed himself in the red tunic from his dresser.
. . .
The washboard leaning expectantly against the stone wall was snatched from its resting position as Link started putting it to use with the tub of water extracted from the washing basin. Link scrubbed thoroughly, washing the dirt off the back of his tunic. After awhile he had trouble with the hat's stains, but eventually, the imprint of dirt was defeated. While reflecting upon past events, the hero was glad he did not have to worry about grass stains. Calming the flames of his hearth with a small pan of water, Link hung his clothes to dry over the fireplace.
- - -
After meandering through the hallways in his newly washed garbs, Link finally arrived at the door of his newfound Zola acquaintance holding a Hylian Guard cloak and baggy linen shorts on top of a white shirt. He knocked on the door, which was in the region of the castle where the doors were made of low quality wood. The thud of Link's knuckles was followed by a rustling movement from the other side of the hinged barrier. The door opened to allow the fragment of a gleaming eye to be seen behind an artificial purple-haired visage made of carved wood. The face backed away and a faint voice greeted Link. "Thank you for the clothes. Please, come in before someone sees."
Link picked out his Keaton mask for his latest disguise, wearing the cloak he had arrived in Hyrule with. With his companion following suit, the guards were developing curiosity. At the exit gate, a guard stopped them. "Greetings, Link... Who is your friend?" Link explained that his friend had a throat illness and couldn't speak very well, but was trustworthy. "Oh yeah? Tell me, stranger, where are you two headed, if I may ask?" The Zola cleared his throat nervously and spoke as fluently as he could.
"We're going to the milk bar." The voice was raspy and dry, almost scary. The guard raised an eyebrow.
"The milk bar?" The Zola seemed to jump slightly.
"I'm sorry, I mean the milk café. I might be running a fever, I haven't been talking right lately." It was Link's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Alright. Both of you have a good one." The guard nodded and signaled the gate to open.
At the milk café, Link and the Zola drank their milk under their masks quietly. The crowd that day was jubilant and noisy. The Zola nudged Link in the ribs. "Same as always, right? The people who come to get milk get a bit carried away, correct?" Link laughed nervously and took a sip of his milk. Why was he being so friendly? Link stated that he knows the owner of the girl who advertises and sells the milk. He pointed at a framed painting of her on the café wall. The Zola in the Kafei mask almost spat up his milk. Wiping the inside of his mask, he spoke awkwardly, "Ah, Malon, correct? She's very pretty." He broke into a coughing fit and Link started pounding on his back. "Kh-echhh... Thanks, Link. You know, I think it's time for us to leave, or at least, me. I have to sort my thoughts."
The Zola pushed his chair away from the table, leaving a few Rupees as a tip for the waitress. Link sat alone, staring at the glimmering Rupees on the desolate wooden table, wondering whether or not the Zola would be able to get past the guards.
Link downed the rest of his drink and ordered another.
-Chapter End-
