Chapter Six: Midnight
"Twilight: A time of pause when nature changes her guard. All living things would fade and die from too much light or too much dark, if twilight were not."
–Howard Thurman
Link was grumpy. And awake. How could he not be with all the infernal racket the men-beasts were making? This word Hyrule was spinning about his mind. Where had he heard that name before? Why was it so familiar? Lost in thought, he did not realize that the pup-beast had crawled over to him, holding out her hand so he could sniff her. She smelled like dirt and that weird tree. His lips came back down over his teeth, only to come back up in a snarl when she climbed on his back. He was about to stand and shake her off when he realized how familiar that weight felt. He didn't know why, but he kind of liked it. Kind of. Oh, how he hurt! The pain that was not so bad before came back to him a thousand-fold. He knew he was the most powerful beast around. Why else would all the animals stray from him unless he was powerful? The green man-beast was familiar, but how? Perhaps he should not have attacked so harshly. Looking back, the green thing that did this to him seemed larger than this particular green thing. Either way, it was mean.
He started to rise up when the mean green thing came closer only to calm down as the pup-beast called him by his proper name, Link. She was such a smart pup-beast. He liked her already. He liked the music too, until he began to hurt, worse than he had before. He twisted to slide gently the pup-beast to the floor as pain, pain, PAIN! filled him with piercing agony. He stood on his two back paws, one of his paws on his side, looking at his flesh man-beast paws.
Huh. He could have sworn he was a wolf. Imagine that. What trickery was this? What was he? It really was a strange sensation; Link had to admit that to himself. His worldview turned on his head so many times in such a short length; it had changed yet again. What was he? The man-beast, the mean thing was skilled; he had to admit that. The way he had effortlessly tossed him to the side, as easily as he might have tossed a goat, was intimidating. His alpha instincts had laid him down. In the view of the wolf, power was power and that was that. Although he was not tame. Never tame. Respectful of a better predator, maybe. Wait, what was that thought? A goat? What were those things? Hoof-food flashed in front of his vision—a large one with goring horns. They seemed to follow him into the room, prancing back and forth across his vision. He barely noticed how inextricably tangled in the rope he was.
His world spun around him as he turned his human head, marveling at the increased depth of color in his sight but disturbed by the lack of smell or hearing. The place they were in was such a mix of scents it was beginning to give him a headache. The irony tang of blood filled the room with an almost unbearable stench, even to his human nose. He moved forward, staggering over loose rope on the floor. Everything was wavy. He was bleeding; some of his stitches pulled out from the excitement of his transformation. Not that he noticed, as caught up in conflicting information as he was. A shiny red trail followed in his wake. The beat of his heart felt so loud in his ears that it almost seemed to shriek. The creatures backed away, with the exception of the mean thing that moved closer, trying to determine if he were a threat. His head was spinning, going round and round, as he started shivering. He could bear the pain better as a wolf. Link would figure out what everything meant later. He was on sensory overload as sights, sounds, colors came rushing at him all at once. He could not hold on to the shifting reality any longer. He promptly passed out.
Kafei gently caught the man as he fell. He, with Link's help, placed the man on the bed, untangling him from the rope. While helpful as a makeshift leash and muzzle, it left ridiculous coils around a man. Kafei quickly went to work checking the man for injuries, dabbing the bed linen near his wound in order to clean the excess that was bleeding through the fabric. The unknown man's clothes covered the wound. Link supposed he should be grateful that his shape-shifting magic didn't translate the medical care by sewing the clothes into the wound. Together, he and Kafei worked at undressing him, leaving him in his trousers. Shield, sheath, sword, and bag of holding made their way to the floor. The chain-mail was the hardest part and served to irritate the wound upon its removal. Link tenderly ran his hands down the mysterious Hylian's side, feeling the raised bumps of Cremia's perfect stitches and noting where they had torn. The unconscious man hissed in reflex at the touch. Link rubbed a bit of the blood between his fingertips. It flowed freely.
The clothing style was different from the green Kokiri style that he had known, yet he could see similarities mixed in. Had the forest clothing become fashionable? Honestly though, he found himself to be a bit jaded. After everything that he had experienced tonight, what was one more impossibility? He was more than spooked that he looked like him, though, down to the hat. Even some of the equipment he carried looked like weapons he pulled from the Sages' temples. It explained some things, like the Triforce, but it opened up so many more questions.
"Anju, hot water and towels please." Link said. He rubbed at his eyes. This day was getting better and better, and it was not more than three hours old. His head was throbbing with a tension headache, and his vision was swimming. He was so tired.
"Yes, Link. Right away," Anju quickly stole from the room, making her way to the kitchen.
He sat in silence as Kafei checked the man's pulse, his cheeks, and the top of his brow to make sure the man's temperature was normal. The last thing they needed was for the wound to become infected.
"His forehead is overly warm. We can't do much until Anju comes back with the water," Kafei said. Link nodded.
Link noticed the wound was still bleeding. He moved over to the bed, grabbing the soaked bed linen. He pressed it firmly to the wound, keeping pressure on it to try to stop the blood flow.
Except for the tapping sounds of Link's foot, the silence between them dominated. What could one say to an incident like this? One could only wait for the answers. Link didn't like the inaction, nor did he like being unable to help. They would need to stuff another mattress. This one was useless now, covered in blood as it were. His mind kept slipping to useless things. I suppose I'm trying to find something to focus on. Yet, he had severely injured a man. There was no going around it.
He shuddered. To think he had done this to a human. Never had he raised hands against a human before, to the point of serious injury. He never sank that low. He battled the Gerudo guards with the flat of his blade. Monsters were bad enough—especially those that were sentient. To think that he had done this to a man that looked exactly like him. The parallels to his past did not escape him. He remembered the last time he had faced himself as an opponent. I lost something then, he mused, some part of my innocence. He wondered if he had any left to lose, if it were possible to become so apathetic about things he would turn into what he fought. No, he decided, I know what it means to be human. Every bloody, gory, harsh detail of it.
Death seemed to be all around him. It was as if he were some dark harbinger constantly throwing everything into chaos. He effectively caused the hostile takeover of a kingdom, and no amount of atonement could ever be enough. If he had never opened the Door of Time…Link lived in fear that one day all that he had done here would be taken away as well. What if Majora came back? What if Termina was threatened by some other cataclysm? He shook his head to clear it. There was no need for what-ifs.
He was scared of what the future might hold. He could admit that, at least to himself. Though he no longer bore the mark of the Goddesses, he knew what courage was. Sometimes the bravest thing one could do was admit to being afraid. Was this his punishment for foolish indifference, to see the life's-blood of someone who looked almost exactly like him drain away like water through a sieve, through his own doing?
Kona's voice cut through his brooding thoughts like a knife. "See, Daddy," Kona said, pulling at her father's sleeve. "It's Unca 'Ink!"
"Were you expecting this?" Kafei knelt down and asked her gently. Kona reminded Kafei of Anju's grandmother very much. She seemed to have an innate sense about things, a preternatural intuition.
"No...but he was green! Like Unca!" Kona beamed at this revelation, proud of herself. She pointed at Link's back. He was shifting the cloth on the unconscious man's head so that it would be away from his eyes.
"Yes, but how was he green? Did you see it with your eyes or with your heart?" Kafei felt a little worried. He wasn't sure of her ability, and the distinction was important. It seemed more like half-formed thoughts; the intuition a child has when first meeting people. Clairvoyance like Anju's grandmother had often skipped a generation. If she saw it with her eyes…He touched the Pendant of Memories hidden under his robe as he waited for her to answer. His line...well, that was better left unsaid. If she were free from the influence of his family, all for the better.
Kona's face scrunched up in thought. "I dunno. He's just green, like Unca. But this Unca's orange-y green." Kafei paled, blood receding rapidly from his face. Shadow Magic. "Unca 'Ink's green 'n' red 'n' blue 'n' white 'n' brown 'n' stuff. Lotsa colors."
"But Link has no orange?" Kafei whispered to her. Kafei stared at Link's back. Lots of colors? People typically only had one or two colors that defined them. Anju had one: white, tinged with Kafei's own purple as they spent so much time in each other's company. Kafei had three from birth, orange, purple, and black, now edged faintly with Anju's own white, and that was excessive. To have more was to have had a soul touch your own, but it was more than that. They had to have left something behind. Each color stood for something. Orange was shadow magic. Green was fairy magic, easily explained by his companions. Kafei couldn't even begin to imagine what the other colors stood for.
"Nope," Kona said, popping the last syllable.
"I see," Link said, half listening to the conversation. With his back to them, he didn't see the dark look that crossed Kafei's face.
Why this though? Why now? Why did the man look like Link? Kafei knew there were things Link hadn't told them; he was a private man by nature, after all. What if the man were somehow related to him?
Link wrung his hands They would have to wait until he awoke in order to question him. Link was looking forward to it. Questions were burning through his mind, making quiet paths and twisted scenarios. This whole sequence of events was unnatural and had a way of bringing secrets to the surface. He spilled the secret of his arrival, and they took it well, but what would they say if they knew just how much the events around them had been manipulated? Kafei and Anju were shocked sometimes at how well he knew them. If they knew the reason for it, would they still be so friendly towards him? I hope the three-day cycle never comes up.
Anju's clattering footsteps were a welcome relief for Link's thoughts. She brought the dishpan to the edge of the bed, setting it down on the table.
"Thanks, Anju," Link smiled wearily. It looked more like a grimace.
She nodded. "Is he still bleeding?" she asked, gesturing towards his wound.
"Yes. It's slowed some. You have the boiling water?"
"It's in the kitchen, cooling, ready to be brought up after we stop the bleeding. Kafei, Link, what are we going to do about the guests?" She pointed to the clock. It was late, or rather, early. People would be returning soon to their rooms.
Kafei and Link replied at the same time. "Guests?" They looked at one another. "We'll manage." The indigo-haired man said curtly.
"I can see to them," Link said. "This is my fault. I won't be any use until he wakes up. In any case, it doesn't take three to tend to one wounded."
"Thank you, Link," Anju said.
He nodded and left the room to see to the front desk, calling back as he left. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Will do," Anju replied.
He stepped outside, leaned his head against the wall, and took a deep breath. His head felt as if it were about to split open. He could do this. Link looked down at his clothing. His formal robes were stained beyond redemption. Fitting metaphor, he thought idly. He paused for a moment in the kitchen and dipped his bloody hands in the aqueduct, scrubbing to try to make them clean, using a bit of his robe to clean the excess off his neck. It was impossible, but he managed to do well enough. He made his way to his room in the stables to change. Epona neighed at him softly.
"There's a girl," he said to her, patting her nose. He climbed into the loft. He quickly pulled off his tarnished robes, folding them neatly on the table. He put on his leggings and boots, followed by his usual tunic and belt. He slipped on his boots and made his way back to the Inn, stopping only to palm a carrot, giving it to Epona. She happily accepted the treat.
The lobby was empty. Link knew it wouldn't be for long. It was better that he be there to answer their questions. The Goddesses only knew what the townsfolk would come up with on their own. Better he stop the wild rumors now.
"Teeheehee," he heard behind him. He whirled, trying to find the source of the impish laughter. "Teeheehee!" He heard again, this time loud in his left ear.
"Come on out. Don't make me set you on fire!" he taunted, trying to make him appear. Link knew who it was all right. Only one being ever managed to make that annoying sound. That sound grated on his last nerve and made his fraying patience dwindle rapidly. He wondered what he wanted now. He wasn't sure he had the energy to deal with him. Of course, he was going to make the effort. He was his friend, after all.
Sure enough, it materialized right in front of him. "Oh, come on! Is that any way to treat an old friend, fairy boy?" The Skullkid's beak cracked in a grin under his pale face.
"Sure it is," Link grinned. "Especially since I haven't seen you in so long. It's been what, two years?"
"Something like that," it said, grinning still. "Like my new face?" His new mask resembled Majora's Moon, with large yellow eyes and a wide, evil-looking grin.
Link grimaced. "You'd better not be seen by anyone. Last thing we need is another panic."
"It's harmless. Just a prank. When you'd become so serious?" Skullkid pretended to think for a moment, "Oh, it's when you became a grown-up!" It stuck its tongue out at him. "You should've stayed a kid."
"You say that like I had a choice." Link said dryly. "Remember what happened the last time you thought something was harmless."
The Skullkid blew a raspberry at him in response.
"How're Tatl and Tael?"
"They're doing great. Tatl's been meaning to stop by for a while now, and Tael found himself a she-fairy. More friends, teeheehee!"
"What brings you here?" Link asked, rubbing at his eyes again.
"Oh, a little of this and that, I suppose."
"Do you care to clarify?"
"Nah. Guessing's more fun!" With this statement, the Skullkid started prancing around, leaping off the shelves and seats.
Link just shook his head, massaging his neck to try to clear some of the tension away. "It has something to do with the wolf, doesn't it?"
The Skullkid stilled. "A wolf?" He gasped. "He's here? He's not supposed to be here! Oh, Farore's Wind!" It sat down in a huff. "I messed up! What a mess!" He smiled, a sinister thing. "Teeheehee! What a mess!" It said joyfully. "This could be good! No, great! It's the perfect prank!"
"He's not supposed to be here?" Link raised an eyebrow at the information. "Skullkid, what's going on? A prank? What do you mean?"
"Lost, Lost, Lost, woods. Lost, Lost, Lost boy," it sing-songed. "Farore's little lost one."
"What do you mean?" Link was filled with worry.
"When twilight breaks,
The Kingdom will fall
And down will come Hyrule,
Midnight and all."
The Skullkid closed his eyes as he sang softly in the pale light of the full moon.
"Link," Skullkid said, lifting his mask, his face serious now. "Be ever vigilant. The rising sun will eventually set; a newborn's life will fade. From sun to moon, from moon to sun, fractured—" It vanished from sight.
The bell in the lobby tinkled as the door to the Inn opened.
"Fractured Time stands poised on the tip of your blade. Tatl will be by soon. Keep your eyes and your mind open. All will be well," Skullkid's voice whispered in the wind. His body was nowhere to be seen. Nothing left but a rattle and the rustle of leaves, and the mangled verses of a poem he'd first read at the bottom of a grave in Kakariko.
"Link?" Romani shuffled through the door. "Are you okay? I thought I heard voices."
Link forced a smile on his face. He was doing that a lot tonight. "I'm fine. How are you holding up? Did the Them show this year?"
"You know full well they haven't shown since seven years ago. I came to check up on you, silly grasshopper. I was worried."
"Worried?" Link asked in mock shock. "About me? Never!"
"Don't try to play it off! You faced a wolf the size of a pony!"
"You don't have to tell me that!" Link said exasperatedly. "I know I did. And it wasn't that big," he muttered.
"Well don't act like it was nothing, like you always do! Seriously, how are you holdin' up? Cremia told me what happened."
"She did, did she?" He slouched. "I'm not perfect, but I'm doing fine. Honest. Chances are I'll be better in the morning."
She reached out and inspected his hand. "Your chances never won a bucket of octorock tentacles at Zoran Roulette. There are specks of blood here."
"Not mine."
"Oh Link…How do you get into the situations you do?"
"I guess I'm just a beacon for trouble." He gave a roguish grin.
"I'd think you enjoyed it." She punched him in the arm and then gave him a hug. Link immediately stiffened, his face turning red. He didn't understand why people insisted on hugging him. Besides, Romani looked so much like Malon…
"Come on! You act like a blushin' bride! Why, if I didn't know no better I'd think that you liked me." She winked at him. "It's a good thing I know better."
"Well…" Link really didn't know how to respond to that. He could take a bit of light-hearted teasing, but...
"Link!" Anju's voice was calling from upstairs.
"Hey Romani? Will you do me a favor? Will you watch the front desk for me?"
"Sure thing, grasshopper. But it's gonna cost you."
"Whatever you want. At this point, I'll do just about anything. Thanks." He darted up the stairs.
"Just about anythin', huh? I have the perfect idea," she said underneath her breath, watching his back as he left.
Link went back inside the room and immediately saw what the problem was. "Nightmares?" he asked them quietly.
"He's delirious. He regained consciousness a few minutes after you left, but I wouldn't call it true consciousness. He's hallucinating, talking to people who aren't there. Kafei managed to slow the bleeding, but we can't get him to stop moving long enough to disinfect it."
"Have you tried a red or blue potion?"
"I'm afraid to give him one," Kafei said. "We aren't sure what he is. It may do more harm than help."
"Understandable. He's still muttering something under his breath." Link moved closer to his face, straining his pointed ears to catch what he was saying.
"Midna, I'm sorry. I tried…I can't stop it. It's inside me…burning…twisting…hurting. Can't see…can't help…mumble…"
"That's strange. Something about midnight. I couldn't catch it all. That's the second time in as many moments…Anju, Romani's watching the front desk. Is that okay? She came in while I was down in the lobby. Nobody else has returned." She nodded. "Good. Kafei and I will hold him down. You go get the hot water."
Anju made her way downstairs, seeing Romani standing bored at the front desk. "Thank you for doing this," she told her, watching as Romani's face lit up with interest.
"It's ah, no problem really. You sure an inn in the in-season is the best place to do somethin' secret? Rumors about Link have already started spreadin' again."
"S-S-Secret? I'm not sure what you mean…"
"Shug, just 'cause I talk slow doesn't mean I am. He's up savin' the world again, isn't he?"
"Well, I don't know if I could call it that…"
"Not all of us are blind you know. If Grasshopper, you, or even your cute lil' hubby ever need any help, let me know."
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." She glared at Romani. "Just keep your eyes off my 'hubby,'" First Cremia, now Romani? Who next, Grog? She shuddered mentally at the thought.
"Sure thing, Shug. Not a big loss. With the way Link rides horses…" she trailed off and grinned.
Anju shook her head. Romani grew up to be an interesting one. She brought the pot back upstairs carefully, years as a hostess making their mark as she didn't spill a drop. She held it while Kafei took the pitcher from the bedside table and dipped it in, scooping up the hot water and pouring it slowly on the man's wound.
He moaned loudly in pain, thrashing as Link held on to his limbs for dear life. The last thing they needed was for the wound to become infected. This was an evil—an unavoidable evil, but an evil nonetheless.
Back in the lobby, an elderly couple returning from the Carnival looked at one another.
"It's, uh, the owners' anniversary," Romani said. "Sorry."
"Right," the woman said. There was a long silence.
"Your room is The Knife Chamber, right?" She handed them each a pair of earplugs. "On the house."
They looked at her in visible relief. "Thank you."
Inside the room, Anju was bandaging the now clean wound as Link held it together. "We'll have to check this every six hours or so."
"Has his fever gone down any?" Kafei asked.
"I can't tell. It'll be touch and go as to whether or not he'll survive the night." Anju replied.
"Someone will need to watch him," Link said.
"It won't be a problem for me. You two are tired." Anju said. Link nodded and left the room.
"I have to go make sure the Carnival is running smoothly," Kafei said, scowling.
"Sleep. It can wait."
His wife pushed him down on the bed. He collapsed, taking care to miss Kona's sleeping form. Anju watched and waited for the morning light. Perhaps things would look better then, for all of them.