The Bleeding Effect
Chapter XIX
"Holy Hyrule," Link whispers.
The modest house is stuffed to the rafters with ooccas. The floor is layered with molted feathers. At Link's words, all the avian creatures swivel their heads to look at him. The sight is so jarring, he's tempted to just close the door again, but then the baby oocca detaches itself from his side.
"Momma!" It chirps, cuddling close to an adult oocca that, to Link, looks just like the rest of them. He wonders, fleetingly, how they manage to differentiate each other—smell, perhaps? As if the chick's cry was a switch, the rest of the race erupts into chatter. Some caw loudly in their native language, trying to get the hero's attention. Other turn to each other, paying Link and Midna no heed. A handful of them all but shout Hylian at them, asking questions and demanding answers. Link can only hear snatches, though, as the rest is swallowed in the din.
"Quiet!" Commands Midna, her voice a louder volume than Link ever would've thought possible with such a tiny body. He winces, grabbing at his sensitive ears.
Some of the ooccas here and there continue to mumble and murmur, but the majority of the flock heed Midna and fall silent.
"I need to speak with the village leader," Link says, slowly, so the few ooccas that speak his language can translate for the others. "About all of you living here permanently."
"What happened with the dragon? Does it yet live?" Burst out someone from the crowd.
"The dragon is gone—it won't terrorize you again."
"So why can't we go back to our city?"
"Didn't Ooccoo explain everything to you?" One look at their anguished expressions, and he knew that she had—like Ooccoo, the rest of her tribe is reluctant to accept the truth for what it is.
"Skyloft is gone." Link says, and actually speaking it aloud draws a chorus of hisses, accompanied by several whimpers and wails. He voice climbs to be heard over their discontent. "But you're still here. You can always rebuild your home. I'm sure the villagers will be willing and able to help."
Link steps back, heading for the door. "I'll be back as soon as I am able."
As he climbs back down the wooden ladder, he hears conversation start to pick up in the house again. It's loud, but at least they don't sound panicked.
Link elects to jump down instead of climbing the last few rungs, and once he hits the ground he wipes his hands off on his tunic and looks around. There are a few practice dummies, a horse stall, and two paths. Midna directs him to the one that leads him into the village, and she vanishes. He stares down at his shadow.
"What are you doing?" He asks, voice hushed. They haven't gone far enough into the village that they've run into any Ordonians, but he still doesn't want to run the risk of them seeing him openly talking to himself.
"What does it look like?"
"It looks like you're leaving me here to convince them on my own that I'm their Link."
"We've been over this kid, remember? These people were attacked by Zant's forces; they're wary when it comes to any of my kind."
Link makes a noise of begrudging agreement and continues further into the village. At his arrival, people look up and bid him hearty hellos. He waves back at them, a bit sheepishly. They thought they knew him—should he perpetuate that? Or should be honest with them? Both options have their risks. If he pretends to be his descendant, as he and Midna planned, they might trap him in his lies. If he is honest, they might believe he's gone mad, and lock him away.
Link, busy weighing his options, lets his feet carry him over a small bridge.
"Loose goat!" A man's voice rings out.
Link jerks up to see a strange blue goat barreling towards him. He spreads his feet apart and brings his arms up to halt the animal in its tracks, but he hasn't got the form right and the goat easily knocks him out of the way.
Winded, he sits up, rubbing at his now-sore stomach. That thing is as strong as a Goron!
"Link?" Bellows a new voice from behind, causing him to jump. "What're you doing down there?"
Link feels a large hand grab the back of his tunic and lift him up into a standing position again.
"Thank you," Link says, trying not to look wide-eyed. The man is huge. Wedged under one arm is the goat. No longer rampaging, the beast is content to stay limp and pliant in the man's hold.
"Frankly, I was surprised you needed help—you tried to stop the gal like it was your first time catching goats!"
Link gives an unsteady laugh. "I suppose it's just been a while."
The large man squints at him suspiciously, and Link, like a child who knows he's about to be punished, nearly blurts out the entire truth.
The man places a hand on Link's forehead, with surprising gentleness. He rests it there for a few seconds before it slides off. "Not running a fever."
Link stares at the man critically. Judging by his stature and strength alone, he would assume this man is the leader. But then again, Mido is hardly a powerhouse. In the Kokiri Village, Mido became the leader due to his ability to rally others to listen to him and do his work for him—he never had to physically prove himself. Link curses himself for not asking Midna much about Ordon beforehand.
Link takes a gamble. "Is there somewhere more private where we can speak?"
"Of course," The Ordonian says slowly, frowning at Link. He sets the goat down and gives it a pat, and the animal, without protest, begins back up the hill to where it ran down from. Then the villager opens wide the door to the house beside them, and they both step in. He gestures for Link to sit at the table. He does so, the chair squeaking even under his slight weight. The older man walks past him, disappearing from Link's view for a moment.
"So what is it, lad?" The man returns to the room, carrying two mugs. He plunks down one in front of Link. Some of the foam off the top dribbles down the side. Link's face crinkles as the smell of the drink reaches his nose: beer. He's smelled it around Hyrule Castle Town often enough to recognize the stench of it; in all honesty he'd prefer a glass of Lon Lon Milk right now. But the man across the table is watching him with expectation, so with revulsion he brings the mug to his lips. However, before he can take a sip, the man reaches over and covers the opening of the mug.
"That's enough." He says, grasping the mug. Link lets him take it from him. The villager then proceeds to tilt his head back and drink deeply, draining the beer. He wipes the excess foam away before returning his attention back to Link. "I'm sure I needed that for whatever you're about to tell me."
Link feels himself freezing up like a spooked deer. The man smiles, and his hands ghost over the second mug. "Is it such a great tale to tell that I need to drink them both in preparation?"
"I don't understand what you mean."
"You haven't been bowled over by a goat since you were thirteen. But there's a first for everything. Perhaps you were just feeling ill." The Ordonian raises his mug slightly before taking a sip. "But then, I saw your reaction to the brew. As a lad you always wanted a taste; when Rusle deemed you finally old enough to drink you got dead drunk on the stuff that very night. So I ask you again. What is it?"
Link takes time to form his response. He could tell the man the truth—he seems kind enough. But beneath the hard muscle is an equally hard intellect. He could potentially respond in a way Link isn't prepared for.
"I've had some tough battles lately." Link does his utmost to make his voice sound strained, as if he's recalling something particularly horrifying. "They've taken more of a toll than I would've imagined."
"Is there anything I can do?"
Yes. Link wants to cheer—that was the only question he wanted to hear from the Ordonian.
"There is something." Link drums his fingers on the table, feeling a sliver more comfortable in the conversation. The other man leans towards him eagerly, the strong painted tusks on his cheeks contrasting with compassionate eyes. "In my travels recently, I was unable to stop a city from being destroyed by monsters. I was able to save the people, but not their homes. Could Ordon possibly take them in, give them time to come to grips with all they've lost?"
"Link, you know we'd love to help," But Link can hear the refusal in the man's tone. "However, we simply don't have the space and resources for an entire city's worth of people on top of the villagers we're already caring for, absent children or no."
"I can't imagine space being much of a problem."
The man sighs. "Link, I know you want to help them, but—"
Link stands. "Just come with me. You'll understand."
The Ordonian casts his gaze around as they near Link's house.
"I don't see anyone." He comments.
"Up here." Link starts to climb the ladder.
"An entire village in one house?" The man mutters, half to himself.
When Link throws the door open wide, the Ordonian's face is almost comical. His eyes bulge so much they appear about to pop out. He takes half a step back, and Link has to steady him, lest the man tumble back off the ledge.
One oocca pads up to the Ordonian, bowing slightly.
"It is a great pleasure to meet you."
The man desperately looks to Link for aid. He says to him, lowly, "What in the name of the Goddesses are they?"
"Ooccas," Link informs him, trying not to snicker. "A tribe from the sky."
"But you said…"
"I never said they were Hylians."
The man blinks a few times, coming to grips with the bizarre situation, before bending down on one knee to better address the oocca that first spoke to him. Clusters of ooccas gather by the door threshold, waiting to see what the newcomer will do.
"My name's Bo, the Mayor of Ordon." Bo says, finally giving Link a name to address him by.
"Ooccoo, at your service," She replies.
"I've been told you need a place to stay. It would be my pleasure to welcome you to Ordon."
This news causes Ooccoo to jump up and down with excitement. She scrabbles over to the doorway and eagerly speaks to her kind rapid-fire in her tribe's own dialect. She hardly finishes speaking before ooccas are surging out of Link's house, fluttering down into the open area below.
"Holy Hyrule." Mayor Bo whimpers.
Link claps him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine."
Link waits until Epona keeps at a steady trot before he lets his mind start to wander. He couldn't stay to watch the greater introduction of the ooccas to the Ordonians; Midna whispered to him it was time to go. Once he slipped away from Bo, he brought out the horseshoe shaped grass he stashed away what felt like ages ago. He hardly expected it to work, but gave it a try. And sure enough, after five or six times of whistling on the grass, the descendant of his faithful mare came galloping up. Once atop the horse, Midna came out of his shadow.
"Before we go to my realm, you need to resupply. There's no telling what Zant's done to the place."
So she's been guiding him to Hyrule Castle Town, ordering new directions for him to turn Epona every now and then. The few enemies they spotted were quickly outpaced.
Link takes this lull in action to muse over Castle Town. This will be the first time he's entered the new and improved version of Hyrule's central hub—and he cannot deny his excitement at the idea. Before Ganondorf's takeover, the town was jam-packed with all sorts of wonderful game to play, sweets to eat, and people to meet. There's no telling how much greater it will be now.
"We're here." Midna announces.
Link pulls gently on Epona's reins, and the mare nickers as she obediently slows. He dismounts, and leads his horse by the reins over a drawbridge. He spies a grand castle in the distance as magnificent as the one in his own time. At the edge of town are stables for travelers. As Link approaches, a boy walks up to him. Link places the reins in his hands, and the young Hylian leads Epona to a watering trough, where a black stallion is already drinking. Link gives her a pat on the flank, content that she'll be looked after, and enters into Castle Town.
He's hardly five steps inside when a man is grasping the cloth of his tunic.
"Rupees," The Hylian pleads, open hand shoved under Link's nose. "Rupees for the sake of peace in Hyrule!"
"I…" For such an old man, his grip sure is strong. "Alright." Link relents. He digs around in his wallet under the old man's beady, unflinching stare. Link has his hand around two red rupees, but the old man gives a dissatisfied noise, so the hero grabs a purple rupee in addition. Link places the rupees in the man's waiting hands.
"Many thanks, many thanks, warrior. You will be surrounded, yes, I can see it now! Surrounded by love!" The old man is so enraptured at the thought of it that he doesn't notice Link slip past him.
"Ninety rupees!" He hears Midna chide. "Ninety rupees you just gave away!"
"What was I supposed to do?" He hisses.
"You ignore the old smelly strange men that come up to you."
"He said he was going to use them for peace."
"So were you! When you bought arrows with them."
Link snorts at the contradiction.
"It would bring about peace eventually." Says Midna.
Link reaches the middle of town. A fountain bubbles up in the center. It's so reminiscent of his own Castle Town, he half expects a twirling couple to be dancing next to it.
Midna directs him onto a side street, where the street is lined with rows of produce and other wares. Hylians and Gorons alike hawk their products. It's strange, seeing the Gorons of this time—they still have the same hard, rockish skin, but their bodies look to be covered in patterns made by clay paint.
"Link!" Calls an unfamiliar voice.
The hero glances around at the large crowd surrounding him, searching for the speaker.
"Link!" She calls again, and now Link sees a rather busty woman pushing her way towards him.
"Telma." Midna hisses in his ear, the only warning she's able to give before the woman squishes his head to her chest. Blush rising in his cheeks, he pulls away from her.
"Telma." He says, weakly, in greeting.
She gives him a once-over, frowns, and pokes his side.
"Hey!" Link yelps, rubbing at the now-sore spot.
"You're far too thin! What have I told you?"
She grabs his wrist and starts to forcibly haul him down a side street.
"W-Wait a second!" He stammers. He vainly digs his heels in. "I'm sorry, but I haven't the time for this. I must—"
"You haven't the time for a proper meal? Nonsense! You're coming with me, young man, and that's all there is to it."
She takes him down a flight of steps, the noise of the marketplace fading slightly. Dread settles in his chest when she pushes him into the building: a bar. If he wants to keep Telma fooled, he'll have to drink beer. A large white cat, upon seeing him enter, jumps down to wind between his legs.
"Don't look so stressed, now. Some food won't kill you." With a wink at him, she disappears into an adjoining room.
Link gingerly settles onto a bar stool, and glances around the place. In contrast to the bustle of the streets, the bar is rather subdued; there are only three others beside him, spaced out around the bar and quietly nursing their tankards. Link supposes the place is much livelier at night, as opposed to midday. The cat jumps up on the table before Link, purring, butting her head against Link's hand. He idly scratches her between the ears.
"Midna," He whispers. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Just choke down the food and make an excuse to leave. We need to get moving."
Link briefly considers darting out before Telma returns with the meal, but decides against it. It would be too rude for him to feel comfortable with.
At last, Telma emerges again from the back room, balancing a plate on one hand and grasping a tankard in the other. She plunks both down in front of him. The dish is a scrambling of meats and vegetables in a sauce Link is sure he's never tried before in his time. And the drink…Link holds back a sigh of relief when he spies frothy white dripping down its side.
"Milk?" He says, with as much disgust as he can muster.
That was the right thing to say. She pushes the tankard closer towards him, some milk slopping over the edge with the movement.
"You try this argument every time you come in here, and I won't hear it. Beer won't grow your bones, boy."
He does dig in then, and he does enjoy it; riding to Hyrule Castle Town left him a bit peckish. Telma, once sure that Link was actually going to eat what was set out for him, busies herself with her few other customers. Only when Link is polishing off his meal with the last dregs of milk does she come over to him again. She props her head up on her threaded-together hands and stares at him. Unnerved a little, Link's gaze darts away from hers. He wipes off his mouth though he knows there's no milk there.
"Is something wrong, Link?" She asks, the levity that had been in her tone moments ago weighed down with seriousness.
"Of course not."
"Rusl has been looking everywhere for you since you ran off."
"Rusl…" Link's mind churns. The name is vaguely familiar, but he cannot place it.
"He was worried for you, him and that girl of yours. You shouldn't have left Kakariko, not in that state."
Oh. Now Link remembers. The girl and the man he had encountered when he first awakened in the future. He hadn't known then what had happened to him, and they thought he was ill or mad. They didn't have the chance to figure out which before he and Midna escaped.
"I'm fine now." He says lamely. "They needn't worry."
"I have half a mind to hold you here until Rusl returns." Link starts at that. She notices. "But I won't. I know you have much to do." She gives him a pat on the shoulder. "Best get to it."
After restocking on arrows, potions, and other essentials, Link makes his way back to the stables. The stable boy springs from his seat at Link's approach.
"I'll fetch your horse right now, sir."
Link motions for him to sit back down. He presses three purple rupees into the boy's hands; his eyes grow wide as saucers.
"Sir?"
"I need you to keep her here for me for a little while longer. If you take great care of Epona, I'll give you the other half of your pay when I return."
"Other half?" The lad nearly chokes with astonishment. Link eyes the boy, notes the prominence of his bones and the poor quality of his clothes.
"Make that the other two thirds."
The boy looks near close to fainting with joy.
Link leaves the stables, and walks for a time in Hyrule Field, putting distance between himself and the town. Once they're far enough away, Midna emerges.
"Ready?" She asks. He nods.
The imp snaps her fingers. His body shudders as it undergoes its transformation into his wolf form. Before he knows it, the soil beneath his paws turns to sand. The air changes from pleasantly mild to dry and hot. A few seconds more, and he's back in his human body. He shields his eyes from the sun and sees the desert stretching out for miles around him.
"Welcome to the Gerudo Desert." Midna perches on his shoulder and points to a faintly visible lump on the horizon. "That's the moblin camp, where we're headed. If we're lucky, the camp will be empty. But knowing our luck, there will probably be ten times the numbers the other Link and I encountered there last time, so be on your guard."
Link starts to trudge through the sand towards the camp. He knows his wolf form would be faster, and Midna undoubtedly knows so too. Still, neither mentions it.
"Where are the Gerudos?"
"You couldn't bring Epona here, obviously, but the moblins have these giant boards that tear through the sand as if it's nothing. We'll have to find one."
"Midna." Link is firm. "Where are the Gerudos?"
She bites her lip. Eventually, she says: "They're not here anymore."
Link knows what she means, and it makes his heart ache.
To distract himself—and Midna—he begins to whistle. He goes through several bars of Zelda's lullaby, but it only makes him miss his dear friend more keenly, so he transitions into the song he and Malon often play for Epona. It's a soothing, earthy tone.
Then comes the trotting noise of hooves over ground. Link draws his sword, but just as quickly lowers it. A solitary boar draws near to him. With no wicked moblin guiding it, the beast is relatively harmless. Link extends his hand slowly towards it, letting the massive boar sniff at his hand, getting used to his scent before he comes any closer to it.
When the beast starts to nuzzle at his hand Link approaches it, and the boar grunts happily as Link climbs atop it. With a few words in its ear, the boar takes off gamely towards the moblin camp.
"I must say I'm impressed," Says Midna, the wind whipping her hair back from her face.
"Why's that? You said the other Link rode boars too, yes?"
"Yes, but for him, getting onto one was an ordeal. Once on, they barely listened to him, but just rampaged around. He had to hold on for dear life."
Link frowns at that. His skeletal self should have taught their descendant this. Knowing how to fight is important, yes—but it's far from the only knowledge needed to be a hero.
Riding the boar shaves hours off the time it would have taken them to reach the moblin camp. Link slows the animal to a gentle stop as they reach their destination. The camp is barren. All is quiet.
"Are they gone?"
"It seems that way." Says Midna. "But I certainly doubt that's true."
The boar stomps its foot. Link shifts his weight atop it uneasily. He is too out in the open. If the camp truly does house moblins, he can only imagine how many of their archers already have their arrows aimed at him. If he is fortunate, he can back up behind the pillar he just passed and start hurling bombs.
Wait.
Midna is speaking to him, but her words are muffled by the cold realization washing through Link. The moblins have archers. And they haven't shot him. They don't want to fight him.
"Midna," He beings, slowly. "When the other Link came here, what was the camp like?"
"Swarming with moblins—that's why I keep saying you need to find some cover now."
Instead, he taps his heels lightly into the boar's sides. With a snort, the beast trots forward into the compound.
"What are you doing?" Midna all but shrieks. "You're walking right into a trap!"
"It's not a trap."
"I'm warping us out of here." She snaps, and he feels the telltale signs of her magic beginning its work. He snags her wrist and pulls her close.
"Don't you dare." He snarls.
Midna's eyes widen at his authoritative tone. Only when he feels the pull of the magic ebb away does he release her.
"Link…"
"Just trust me, alright?"
They stare at each other. Finally, reluctantly, she nods. They continue on through the camp, silently.
Link's sharp ears pick up a small scuffling noise. He fights the instinct to jerk his head in that direction; instead, he looks from the corner of his eye. A small green head, two glowing red eyes peep out at him. The creature makes no threatening moves, but merely watches. Not violent, but curious. It's not long before a hand reaches out and shoves the moblin's head back down under cover.
Link is near the exit of the camp when a moblin darts in front of him, its club raised. It looks young, as far as Link can tell; the creature's slimy green skin is free of wrinkles. The creature must hate who he thinks Link is. What is he, to this creature? He's sure his descendant killed the moblins in the camp cleanly, but he killed them just the same. Which of those moblins were kin to the one that stands before him now?
The solitary moblin intends him harm, but Link will not draw the Master Sword.
"Link," Midna starts, voice taut with warning.
"If we fight here, we'll lose more than our lives." Still, he can feel the warmth and thrum of magical energy gathering around his companion. She's bracing herself for battle. The moblin edges closer with its club.
"Midna, don't do it." He knows she's burning with the need to act, just as he is.
Link can't be sure how it happens. It was probably caused by a moblin leaning closer to get a closer look. One way or another, a crate falls from a high watchtower. It collides with the ground in a mighty crash. The noise spooks Link's boar; it squeals and rears. Link, far from expecting such a thing, is thrown roughly from the animal's back. The boar, in its blind panic, runs straight, barreling right into the moblin, and Link knows it's all over.
The moblins perceive it as an attack by Link, and in the space of seconds a volley of arrows is launched toward Link. He knows he won't be able to scramble upright and dodge in time, so he curls up, tucking his head behind his arms in a meager attempt at self defense.
He hears the thudding noise of arrows hitting their target, but feels no pain. Confused, he looks up; Midna extended her hair into a giant orange hand to shield Link.
"Midna…" He breathes.
"Get on your feet!" She snaps.
By the time Link has peeled himself up off the ground, he and his companion are surrounded on all sides by an ever-growing hoard of moblins. Gone is the curiosity; present is the hate.
"Get us out of here!" A moblin lunges at Link; he parries. The hoard presses in tighter, and Link knows he will have to kill if Midna doesn't get them out of here right now.
"There's no point! We need to get to the mirror. And the only way there is through this camp!"
There's always another choice, he wants to say. But here and now, the only choices he has are to fight or to die.
So he does what he must, but nothing more. He only slays the moblins impeding his forward motion. Each time he steps over a body he's one step closer to getting out of this mess.
By the time he breaks free of the camp, there's an arrow stuck in the space between his shoulder and back, and the Master Sword drips with blood.
"Alright, stop." Midna says, once they've gone far enough. Link does. She drifts over to his shoulder, inspecting his wound. "The good news is the arrow went through you and out the other side. We don't have to worry about digging inside you to look for the arrowhead." Midna points her finger at the protruding end with the arrowhead. A small crack of black-orange energy snaps out and cuts the arrowhead off. It jolts the whole arrow, but Link doesn't flinch or cry out in pain. It is when Midna is about to yank out the rest of the arrow that Link finally speaks.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" She gives the arrow a hard, quick pull. Once it's out, she tosses it away and starts to tug down the cloth and mail around Link's shoulder so she can treat the wound.
"We should have done it your way from the start."
"Link, no. You were right."
"How can you say that? You saw—"
"Let me finish." From his pouch she grabs a roll of bandages, and winds them around his injury. "You were right. They didn't want to fight. Neither did you. That would have been enough, if the boar hadn't been frightened."
"I'm good with animals." Link mumbles. "I should have been able to calm it down before it ran."
She's wrapped the wound sufficiently; she tears the end of the bandage with her teeth before tucking it into the other layers of bandage.
"Link, it all happened so fast, the Goddesses themselves couldn't have stopped that animal." Roark could have—but then, he can manipulate time itself, and that's cheating, really.
Her comment was meant to lighten the mood, but Link shoots her a glare. She berates herself. The boy's from an earlier time, where saying something as she had bordered on blasphemous.
"Come on now." She lightly pats his bandaged shoulder. "We're almost there.
-TBC-