"Princess."
Zelda sat up in shock, clutching her blankets to her chest. She looked around, studying her room. It seemed unearthly, the edges of her furniture illuminated by the light of the moon that streamed through her open curtains. Nothing was out of place. She was entirely alone. She sighed. The voice had just been a dream. What evidence did she have that it had not always been a dream? She settled back down, pulling her blankets up around her chin and shutting her eyes.
"Princess."
She opened her eyes, fear screaming through her mind, as it had every time she had this particular dream. Getting to her feet, Zelda hesitantly pulled on a pair of slippers. She exited her room, leaving her door open a tiny crack. Large windows were placed at intervals on the wall, the silver semicircles following the stairs in a downward spiral. She did not need a torch; the light was enough, and even in much dimmer light she would have been able to find her way. Every step was familiar to her feet. Since she could walk, this had been her room, at the top of the tower. Now she was seventeen, and knew the layout of the castle by heart. She started down the stairs. She knew there were one hundred-and-seventy-four steps; when she was eight she had counted. Still, in her dreamlike state, it seemed to take only seconds to reach the Hall of Kings. Despite the name, the portraits she passed were mostly of women. The hall was darker than the stairs, so Zelda pulled the first lit torch she passed out of its metal bracket. She waved a friendly hello to Queen Zelda the II, the one she resembled most of all. Several Zeldas and a few kings later she reached her mother. The portrait didn't resemble wasn't how the mother Zelda remembered; she remembered a happy, laughing woman, not this solemn-looking monarch. Still, she walked over to the picture and kissed it on the cheek. All the paint in that spot had been worn away. Ever since her mother died ten years ago, Zelda had made this a ritual.
"Hi Mom."
"Princess." She knew the voice didn't come from the painting. She turned and followed it down the hall and out into a garden. And there, in the shadow of the hedge, she saw him. He was older than when she had last seen him, but then he always was. He was not much more than a shadow himself; it was his bright eyes that gave his presence away. She sighed loudly, trying to hide her fear. Trembling, she said,
"I don't know what you hope to accomplish."
The shadow was silent. Once a year, for as long as she could remember, the night after her birthday she had heard his voice. Every year, his age had matched hers. There was something different this time, however. Approximately where his hands should be, he appeared to be holding an object encrusted with amethysts. She ignored it.
"I know who you are, Hero's Shadow."
Hero's Shadow bowed his head. He resembled the picture in the book exactly. Zelda took a deep breath.
"My great-great-great-too many greats grandfather defeated you in the Lakebed Temple. Please leave me alone."
As always, Hero's Shadow simply looked at her. Although she couldn't see his face very well, she saw sadness in his bright eyes, the only part of him that she could clearly see.
"Begone!" She knew there was only one way to get him to leave, besides waiting for sunrise. She thrust the torch at him. As the torch illuminated the corner of the hedge, he was gone. When she drew it back, scanning the hedge for his eyes, Hero's Shadow was clearly gone. She turned and slowly made her way back to her room.
…
Karis looked up as the door to the tavern swung open. His eyes widened at the strange girl who walked in. Dressed in a purple shirt and wide purple pants, the clothes she wore were so different from the average girl in the tavern that at first he didn't notice her other peculiarities. Then he noticed that she resembled some sort of bird, with a majestic hooked nose and beautiful yellow eyes. Her skin was a dark tan, and her hair a vibrant blood red, pulled away from her face. She stalked over to the counter. He placed both palms on the wooden counter and leaned forward, attempting to hide his surprise and admiration behind his good-natured smile.
"Can I help you?"
She slammed her hand down between his. He was struck again by the difference in their skin tones. When she pulled her hand away, a purple rupee lay where it had been.
"Don't flirt with me. What can I get with this?"
He looked at her. She couldn't be any older than fifteen, three years younger than him.
"Aren't you a bit young to be drinking?"
The arrogant girl gritted her teeth, frustrated.
"Food. Don't you serve food here?"
Karis decided perhaps it would be best to just give her what she wanted.
"Soup or bread and meat are all I can give you for twenty rupees."
"That's fine. What kind of soup?"
"Only one kind. Noodle soup."
"That's fine. I'll need to take it with me but I swear I'll bring the bowl back"
Karis didn't quite
trust her. The innocent look in her eyes seemed fabricated. However,
he could tell it was urgent.
"It'll cost you five more
rupees." He took his hands off the counter as she slapped five
green rupees onto it. He gave her ladled her a bowl of soup and she
left. He wondered if she would ever come back with his bowl.
"Are you awake?"
Aroon wasn't sure. He felt as though his eyelids were glued together.
"Open your mouth. Beak. Whatever."
He wasn't sure he could move anything. It didn't matter, because he felt fingers grab his beak and pull it open. Something warm glided down his throat. He cracked open his eyes and saw a girl who seemed human leaning over him. There was concern in her yellow eyes.
"Oh good, you are awake. I was afraid you were dead or something. That's a pretty bad bump on your head."
Once more she poured something into his mouth.
"Wuh—" He coughed. "What is that?"
She held up the bowl. "Soup. This nice man sold it to me. And he gave me the bowl."
Instantly suspicious, Aroon asked the girl, "He just gave it to you?"
"No-ooo, not exactly. But he made me pay a deposit for it, which is almost as good as me buying it, right?"
"What? No!" Aroon found the strength to sit up. The back of his head stung. "You take that bowl back right now!"
"But don't you want to finish the soup?"
Aroon looked at the bowl. There was something floating in the broth. "Are those worms?"
"Uh, no. They're noodles."
Aroon wondered what noodles were. "Well… Ok. But after that you're taking the bowl back."
"If you say so."