Ordinary World

Chapter 2

-o-

Faceless

Some birds have the most horrifying cry. One note erupting from that black gap when the beak opens and it sounds as if their eggs have been crushed. I awoke to the sound of a shriek, with a start – even though it sounded distant, and yet in some way close, like from a bird soaring across the open sky above me. My eyes immediately moved to the back of my hand, which looked as ordinary as ever. I did not reflect upon it. The next moment I had jumped out of bed and was grasping for the clothes I had prepared on the chair by the desk. I was out the door without bothering with the boots. The soles of my feet hammered on the beech wood floor as I ran but I was still perfectly aware of that soft sticky sound bare feet makes. No matter, I kept my eyes on what lay ahead of me.

"Keep the kids out of here!" I heard Princess Peach's distinctively high voice from the room that had a whole crowd of people jamming its entrance. Something had to be really wrong if she used that tone. I if anyone knew there was reason for it.

Just as I was thinking about how to get past and inside I was given an opportunity when someone else elbowed his way out. Captain Falcon was dragging Young Link and Ness out of the room to the group of children standing huddled up together, looking smaller than usual and glancing up at the adults. My heart skipped a beat and I could not help but to watch the face of the boy with the pointy ears and the blond hair. His innocent blue eyes had widened but the moment I saw them, and the terror within, I felt my excitement fade. Those flickering eyes, the clenched jaw and uncontrollable quivers signaled the panic and fear of not knowing. Like a child lost at a mall. What was the difference between being left on one's own, wondering where mommy and daddy went, and finding out that they were not coming because they were in an accident? At least there was some kind of difference. I turned and sidestepped through the narrow space that had appeared between bodies that were otherwise standing packed as sardines.

The skin around my eyes tightened when I entered. The morning sun was casting a bright glow over the bedroom, reflecting off tiny particles of dust dancing peacefully in the air, and the wind was playing with the light curtains through the open window. I could make out parts of the long white nightgown spread out on the blanket of the bed. I leaned to get a better view and the saliva that had gathered in my mouth was grossly thrown back in my throat and swallowed when Princess Peach dashed into me. There was no question she had reached a limit, which did not come as too big of a surprise considering what I had heard before – not calming others down before herself was... not like her.

"W-what happened?" I stammered. The faked weakness rung in my ears and clashed with the strength I knew my voice possessed. I let my eyes wander over her upset face as an extra precaution. Her shaky grip around my blue shirt tightened and she called my name before falling against my chest. I stroked her soft sunny blonde hair mechanically while staring straight ahead at the many heads still blocking great parts of my view and hoped to express a convincing image of paralyzing shock.

"Sorry... sorry," Peach excused herself, shaking her head, and broke away from me. I stared after her running out the room – her people stepped aside for – and seized the opportunity to let my confused eyes beg for answers from the many pairs of eyes that stared back – because I had just arrived and knew nothing. I was filled with innocent fear and anxiety. Tell me, had there been another murder? This would be the third one. How much more could we take? What were we supposed to do now?

At last came the moment for me to move to the front. I had to make sure. To them, confirming my worst fears when in reality I wanted to make sure that my work of art had turned out to my satisfaction. I had created it in complete darkness and now it was bathed in a heavenly light. There was one thing alone able to resist this violent pull, and it was also the one thing standing in my way. I became aware of my heart once again. It knew not of any false appearances and drummed wildly when I spotted the green tunic worn by the critic that had inspired this little exhibition. It made me feel warm inside that he had come here without sword or shield. It went to show the value, and the power, of something as diffuse and unfeeling as time; mere seconds against reason and an irrevocable choice of the future one will have to forever live with. In this case, when it was already much too late for what he hoped to achieve, it would only have made me disappointed in his character to find that he had taken the time to arm himself. Now I was numb with anticipation for his reaction.

He was not alone by the bed. There were four other figures there: Fox McCloud, Falco Lombardi, Samus Aran and Ganondorf Dragmire. They all directed their eyes to me when I stepped out from the crowd. Except Link. The one whose face I wanted to see desperately, my critic, did not turn around. I put on my mask of anxious fear, inched closer, and stared, not at them but at my own work. I once read that an arsonist will watch the whole spectacle he has caused while the bystanders will not be able to tear their eyes away from the blazing fire. I did not want to stand out in the wrong way, especially not among people who had had their fair share of crime, death and evilness. In a way it was kind of aggravating, because I really was there to watch the spectacle and that tiny pleasure, the whole point for me to be here actually, could expose me. I tried to strain my ears to listen in on their theories as much as I strained my eyes to stare at the dead body of Princess Zelda.

They said nothing of worth. They were not even sure if the murderer was someone from the outside, someone involved with the tournament or one of us competitors. They did notice that she had been strangled without any struggle but interpreted way too much into the cutoff hair.

"A woman's pride is her hair. Ain't that what they say?"

A few others in the crowd had followed my lead and taken the initiative to involve themselves in the conversation – although most merely moved around to get a better view or looked to and fro. Some could not take it any longer and left like Peach had. The attention pleased me but it burnt me to the core that one person was just standing there like a worthless sack of potatoes. Every time I had taken the risk to have a look on his face it had been expressionless. He had those kind of leaning eyebrows and a stern mouth that made him look more serious than most, unless he smiled and lit up like the sun, but that did not excuse, or explain, this complete lack of emotion. This was his princess. His princess that I had taken from him. Nonetheless, no matter what everyone else around said about what kind of low person the murderer might be, what kind of no-good motive he or she might have or what horrible humiliating reason lay behind Zelda's corpse being left like this, Link remained a blank sheet of paper. Not even my composition, the image of her, which he kept staring at, would move him.

"What's that?" I said, with ill-meaning spite disguised behind the naiveté some people mistakingly saw in me, pointing at the blushing mark by the white neckline of the nightgown. There were a few awkward glances until Falco, who stood next to Fox with crossed wings, said in his typical straightforward fashion, "looks like a hickey to me."

Samus's eyes, which were about the only thing one could see of her in that futuristic metallic suit of armor, moved to Link and I saw that as my cue to do the same. There was not much of a change in him although he looked rigid, I'd give him that. His face was frozen in its neutral grimace and the intensively blue eyes had gone from not being able to move from the Hylian princess to being transfixed upon her chest area. It was only because I had purposefully chosen to position myself close to him that I heard him inhale.

"Nightly affairs, eh?" Ganondorf broke the tense silence. "She must have invited someone here for some fun and this is how it ended."

The Gerudo smirked at Link and this time several more people, if not most, turned to look at the young hero, myself included. It was an effort not to give in to the anger I felt when I found him back to the same unforced neutrality as before, with a serious expression responding to Ganondorf's scorn.

"I've never done anything like that to her," Link said and I ground my teeth behind closed lips at how controlled his voice was. It was a reprimand though, so there was at least some kind of emotion in the Hylian's words, and I liked the way he stressed "like that" while his eyes flickered back to the hickey.

"And you all know she wouldn't invite anyone here," Link added, louder this time to address the whole room. I guess it was no arguing what he said. He did not leave any room to discuss as he whirled around and strode out of the room with his head bent down. Ganondorf chuckled and was given a glare by Samus walking past him. I grabbed her arm.

"I'll go after him."

It was lucky that I had settled for a worried face because I can't say that the look Samus gave me made me feel calm. I was under her scrutiny for a good ten seconds before she straightened up and thanked me. There was a pause before she added my name. It was probably something expressing warmth or closeness, at least coming from her who was always sparse with these things. My relief must have come across as a friendly smile. We had to stick together during times like these. I nodded at her and chased after Link.

My hands were sweaty. I had to take a deep breath and clench my hand into a tight fist to stop the shaking before I knocked on his door. He opened up right away, a narrow creek through which he looked at me. There was no sign that he had let any emotions out even in his loneliness and I realized that it made me too upset to speak without coming across as suspicious

"What?" he said and I scratched the back of my head. I heard my nails tear away the cells from my oily scalp.

"We thought someone should check on you," I said.

"Thanks. I'm fine." He tried to shut the door but I grabbed it with both hands and pulled it open.

"What I meant to say..." I kept holding on to the side of the door took a moment to stare down at my feet before I added, "are you okay?"

I felt the resistance give in but Link did not open the door wide for me. He just looked at me as if I had woken him up in the middle of the night and all he had in his head was going back to bed.

"I'm no good at comforting. I can listen but I won't ask you to talk or anything. I thought just maybe it'd be better if you knew you weren't alone right now," I said.

"Come in."

I was lucky that he was quick to turn around and lead me inside because I could not hold back the wide grin that spread on my lips until my facial muscles screeched in protest. My shoulders trembled as though I was laughing when I followed him into the room.

(A/N)

This chapter seems different to me. I feel that I am back to my old self and my old writing. I also feel that this might be a little bit of a shame. I was stuck, I let go, and for once there was something happening in a story of mine. Now I am back to finding that I am thinking ahead and that what I have in mind will not make it into the end of the chapter I am working on. I shamelessly ask you to please bear with me.

...

Dear reviewers, whenever I receive a review I feel that my thanks are not enough - often they are silly and exaggerated. This time I feel like making a bow and I hope I am not being too pompous. For being an author (well, at least an author on this website) I feel that words fail me far too often. I might be the kind who cares way too little, who only writes for myself and when I feel like it and shares with an unknown space in hope that there might be to someone's liking (at least a little – or make you react and want to write things the way they should be). And while I am being this horrible and selfish I feel such a strong gratitude and happiness that you are there. It helps me to see how I made characters out to be, where I was being too vague and where I could have held back. Reviews are also inspirational because every comment on the content should say something about that reader's likes or dislikes and that is quite fun to think about. Hmm, as usual I find myself talking too much. Thank you for making me happy.

Even if you do not review. I am happy and it is very reassuring that you are there on the other side. Thanks for reading.