Second chapter (finally). Tell me what you think--all (polite) criticism is welcome.

...and so is praise. Heh. Heh. Neh.

Chapter 2

Sunrise, Sunset


Two years ago...

Beyond the swaying canopies, the sky grew lighter and lighter, and the easternmost stars faded out. The magnificent sun replaced them, first peaking over the canopies, then displaying its full might to the waking world. Tarun loved that fire; he absorbed it like fuel, allowed it to break through his body and electrify his blood. He remained perched on the branch for some time, executing this cycle of spiritual photosynthesis. Silently, he promised to seize the day, remembering well a platitude that had found its way into one of his grandmother's countless stories: seize your life, for it is the dust of the Earth, the light of the Sun, and the sweat of the Gods. And, as the soil beneath stirred with its myriad of inhabitants, and the clouds stirred overhead, the promise became so strong that it seemed basic prescience. He would seize the day, and all the days following that, surely for the rest of his life. It was as certain as the sunrise.

But the day could not be claimed up in his lonely perch, and, spiritual fervor aside, there was work to be done, so Tarun climbed hastily down his tree and sprinted through the sparse underbrush of Fagorn Forest, where the music of the waking world was fading in. Birds sung sweetly as they mingled amongst the trees, undisturbed by the monkeys, who, taken in by the fresh spring air, chuckled more than usual. Tarun inhaled with easy breaths, his body well accustomed to the exercise, his feet certain of their destination.

Then, coming upon a gravel road, Tarun halted to find that certainty erased, to find his previously vacant mind now occupied by the thoughts that had often haunted his ordinarily cheerful existence as of late. He stood, heart thudding in his chest, staring both ways down the road, unable to decide which way to travel, as if he had forgotten the correct direction even after taking it day after day. Unable to decide, his imagination somehow sailed down both.

To the South, Tarun knew, the road led to his home and its people--a simple place with simple folks, who were just stirring from their undisturbed slumbers. They stretched and yawned and fantasized about all the things they would accomplish today: milk the cows, exchange some rupees, send a letter to a relative in Ordorn or Kakariko or Hyrule. And all the while, Rizo was already awake, probably subtracting rupees from Tarun's wage for each minute the lazy-ass teenager was late to a job that was a complete epitomization of busy-work.

To the North, though, Tarun knew a whole universe of adventure awaited his curious step. The boisterous Gorons danced in their mountains, while the Zora dived into their realms of crystal water. He could see them before him: two burly gorons, engaged in an epic match of sumo-wrestling, then a smooth, curved Zora woman diving through a sparkling waterfall and into the large basin, where many more of her kind frolicked in the deep. He had never even seen a Zora, but from what he had heard from his grandmother, each possessed a regal kind of beauty. And, beyond them--these characters of Tarun's well-trained imagination--the sparsely populated lands of sand and ice awaited a pioneer's step, harboring ancient secrets just waiting to be unlocked in the name of curiosity.

Yet the most magnificent aspect of all thrived in the center: a glorious woman--too youthful to be ordained "queen"--a heart imbued with ferocity of the Gorons, a mind touched by the serenity of the Zora, a legendary soul more mysterious than any enigma within sand or snow. Tarun saw her now--that brilliant emerald glinting from her tiara, that Triforce blazing upon her pure dress: symbols to which all brave soldiers would rally when the princess, herself a symbol of wisdom and hope, was threatened.

Tarun's grandmother had told hundreds of stories about these heroes--Marth the Swift, Rauru the Wise, the White Knight, and, most memorable of all, the Hero of Time, along with countless other embodiments of valiancy that designed the eternal world of bravery, camaraderie, and triumph.

The world of heroes.

And it all dwindled down to a simple decision. Tarun possessed no dissenting valuables, no dependent family members. It was just a single step in the other direction.

As easy as going right instead of left.

I could do it. I really co--

"You're late, boy," the man said, tossing a hoe at Tarun.

Tarun was so startled that he barely caught the tool without cutting himself. "Bwa--I mean, what?"

A bulky, bearded man looked at him quizzically.

"I mean...sorry."

"Nice catch, though." Rizo chuckled at him and walked back to the farmhouse. Tarun watched the immense man go, still somewhat lost within his fantasies. He had almost done it this time--gone right instead of left. He might have done it, too.

But there was one thing that held him back.

As usual, Tarun's work was accompanied by serious contemplations, but these eventually devolved into assessments of the fruits. Tarun felt his fantastical imagination calming as he slashed the weeds and hilled the shoots. This simple, mundane work occasionally proved as refreshing as the luscious red tomatoes it yielded, for it was easy, amidst the fresh air, cooling breeze, and bright sun, to dismiss his plans as mere whims, to question how he could possibly want to leave this place that was his home, where his friends surrounded him, where the sun was guaranteed to be bright, the rain always fell soft and abundant, and the tomatoes grew so large that they bore down their own stalks.

But, when he saw Rizo's daughter on the porch, waving, he realized that not every aspect of his life in Selorn was so frustratingly basic--no, everything about Ruth was invigoratingly complex: that flowing, raspberry blonde hair flowing with the breeze, a complexion that belittled the sunflowers in the fields.

"Tarun?"

Ruth's beauty had been planted within his fertile heart many ages past, and there it had been nourished by her empathy and pathos, had flourished even amidst his immaturity and incomprehension. Now, in a time when he could finally name it, it was blossoming.

"Tarun!"

But to what end? He asked himself. Marry her? Stay in the village forever? Hoe the weeds and chop the wood and do all the little mundane tasks that Rizo assigned, and, afterwards, resign to examine the same firmament, wake to absorb the same morning sky?He wished nothing more than to depart from this prosaic existence--nothing more to see the sun ascend over windswept sands, gleaming ice, or auburn rocks! But most of all, he wanted Ruth to look upon those same landscapes, experience the breathtaking world by his side! Would she be willing to go with him? Could she be willing?

"Dammit, Tarun! What do I pay you for? Stop eying my daughter and get back to work!"

The tomatoes were jealous of his blush.

------------------------------------------------

And so, Tarun labored deep into the afternoon free from thoughts regarding his departure. Unfortunately for him, not only had such thinking become ingrained within his daily mental cycle, another villager--his coworker and best friend, no less--thought similarly.

When he saw the grim look on Aro's face, Tarun knew that Rizo had assigned them to another job that brimmed with apparent pointlessness. "He needs us to chop down ten or so trees," said Aro.

Tarun gave him a quizzical look. "What for?"

Aro shrugged. "Do you think he tells me? All I know that is that this probably means a lot more work for the both of us. After this, he probably wants us to do something with the wood--build a cabin or something, who knows?"

"Great. Just great. Well let's get started."

They retrieved hatchets from the shed, sharpened them, and, arriving at the edge of the forest, put them to use on sturdy trees, each boy working on his own with occasional, albeit brief, conversations, which dwindled as exhaustion grew.

As sunset drew near, they stopped working to view it. Around them, the world turned to gloom as the weary white orb trickled down the firmament. Aro exhaled. "Haven't you ever wanted to...go somewhere?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"To...leave Selorn?"

"You mean to see the world."

"Yeah."

Tarun nodded. "All the time."

"Tarun...I'm doing it."

"What?"

"I said I'm leaving! I'm tired of these mundane chores, tired of this mundane life!"

Tarun couldn't believe his ears. "When?"

"Tomorrow, right after work."

Tarun gawked at him. "Where do you think you're gonna go?"

"I don't know. My sister lives in Hyrule, and I haven't seen her in years. I imagine that would be my first stop."

"And then...?"

"Who knows? Kakariko, the desert. I'd really like to see a Goron."

"What about a Zora?"

"Yeah, ever heard about the girls?"

Tarun laughed hard. "Galavanting around naked all day, right?"

"You got it, bro. Who could pass that up?"

They laughed as the twilight approached. But, amidst all the lightheartedness, a terrible feeling snagged Tarun's heart. "What about the people here?" he said, more to himself than to Aro.

"I don't know, man, I don't know. My parents would probably like to see me go, to join my sister. My dad would definitely be proud of me if I joined the Royal Guard, but they only allow the best of the best."

"What about..." Tarun voice trailed off. He could not speak it, could not bring out the tabooed subject that had been wordlessly wedged between them.

Aro smiled at his hesitation. "I know, I know, Tarun," he said, exhaling heavily. "Look...she loves you. She obviously made her decision, and I can accept that--I have learned to accept it, and there will be plenty of opportunities for me in the future. Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"You'll marry her someday, you bastard."

Tarun laughed. "Only if you promise me that you'll get a Zora-girl," he said.

The last drop of sun slipped from the horizon.